Rachel looks uncertain. “I don’t know. It’s so late already.”
I pull my phone out of my small clutch. “It’s only nine forty-five. And I don’t even have pajamas to change into here!”
Rachel bites her lip. “I’d say you could come back to my place but the guy I’ve been seeing has been staying over a lot and he’ll be there tonight…”
And now I feel like crap. “Oh Rachel.” I grab her hands. “I’m such a shit. You’ve got your whole life going on and a new guy and I haven’t even asked you about it. I swear I’m going to start being a better friend.”
She squeezes my hand and smiles wanly. “It’s okay. Really. Don’t worry about it. The new guy isn’t that serious.”
“But he’s staying at your place all the time?”
She waves it away. “Let’s go get your stuff. One drama at a time.”
I frown at my friend. Usually whenever she’s got a new man I can barely shut her up, she wants to analyze and dissect every single thing he’s said and done. But she’s bailing me out big time helping me tonight so I won’t push it.
“Come on,” she says, “I’ll told my cabbie to wait for me. I didn’t think you’d want to stay here.”
I nod and we hurry downstairs. I feel a little ridiculous running around town in my elaborate ballgown and updo, but whatever.
I’m taking back my life, dammit, and it starts now. With me sleeping on my own bed, with my own sheets and my own pillows.
Rachel’s quiet on the ride over. And again I feel like a crappy friend for monopolizing our friendship lately and not paying more attention to what’s going on in her life lately. I’ve been taking her for granted, and if there’s one thing I want to do better in my new life, it’s to value the people in life who matter.
Adam’s high-rise is next to the Crown hotel, and built to match the hotel’s famous white and gold style. All the Who’s Who of New Olympus have a permanent residence here.
“Wait for us, we won’t be long,” I start to tell the cabbie, but then Rachel jolts and says, “No, don’t wait.”
I frown at her but she says quickly, “We’ll just catch another cab. It might take awhile to gather your stuff together.”
Okay, fair enough. And cabs aren’t too hard to find in this part of town so we pay the cabbie and then walk into the lush white marble-lined lobby. My steps falter at the line of beefy security guards blocking the elevator. But Rachel knows just what to do.
“Can I help you, ma’am?” the doorman asks.
“We need apartment 32D,” Rachel leans in and flutters her lashes. “Adam Archer’s residence. He’s expecting us.”
“Of course, ma’am. One moment.” The doorman puts a phone to his ear. If he’s wondering why we’re in ballgowns with opera gloves, he doesn’t comment.
I sidle up to Rachel. “What are you doing?”
“Buzzing Adam. He’ll let us in.” She seems so confident.
“Is he here?”
“The party broke up soon after you left.” I can see she wants to ask me more questions, but the doorman interrupts.
“Apartment 32D. Right this way,” he escorts us past security to the elevators and types in a code with a white-gloved finger. Rachel thanks him prettily, but I’ve fallen silent. The mirrored elevator wall shows two disheveled debutantes.
I gnaw on my lip for thirty one of the thirty two floors. Will this send the wrong message to Adam, me coming here right after I broke off the engagement? Whatever, I’ll set him straight soon enough. He’s pulled multiple dick moves and it’s time to start setting things straight. Or rather, continue setting things straight. I started things off right at the ball and it’s time to continue taking back my own life.
Besides, Rachel’s here so it’s not like he can try anything funny. I shake my head even at the thought. Adam’s harmless. I know Logan hates him and has the elaborate conspiracy theory about him having some part in Logan’s terrible accident, but Adam’s like a tamed house cat—all the lion has been domesticated out of him through millennia of careful cultivation.
Adam opens the door with a wide smile on his face that doesn’t even dim when he sees Rachel beside me. “Ladies, welcome.” He gestures us into his apartment.
I steel my spine. “Adam, I’m just here to get my stuff back. It wasn’t cool that you moved it without even telling me.”
He nods but just keeps gesturing us inside. “I understand. I was just trying to make everything special for you when you were under so much stress, but I can see how it could be considered overstepping. I’m sorry. Look, Daphne, I’m sorry for everything. Please. Come in.”
I blink. Okaaaaaaaay, wow. I didn’t expect a genuine apology. For the first time all night, the plastic mask of his boyish good looks has cracked and I feel like there’s genuine emotion shining through his eyes.
I nod slowly and step inside Adam’s apartment.
My stuff is everywhere, mixed in with his. My lamps are artfully nested amongst his modern, angular furniture, giving a softening, feminine touch to the place. My art is mounted along the walls.
I don’t know whether to be flattered or creeped out.
Maybe if we were a real couple, genuinely in love… But we never were. Never even close. Did Adam think that was real love? A real relationship?
Compared to the intimacy I’ve found with Logan, that’s sad if he did.
Logan. Even thinking his name makes my chest clench. He hurt me tonight by not believing in me when he said he would. If he can’t trust me, then how can we ever—
“Here, let me get you a drink, and then I’ll help you gather your stuff together.”
“No, really, Adam, you don’t have to—” I start, but he’s already disappeared into the kitchen. But he doesn’t come back with champagne or anything like that, just two glasses of ice water, one for Rachel and one for me.
It’s thoughtful and I actually am really thirsty, so I take a long, deep sip. “Thanks, Adam.”
“Here’s the suitcase with your clothes. You can change while we start packing.”
Wow. He’s actually being decent about this. I nod and roll the suitcase he pointed out to the guestroom. As I close the door, I hear him and Rachel start to make small talk.
Unzipping the suitcase, I sort through the clothes, frowning when I see all my underthings among the other clothes. Good gods, did he pack this? The brief image of him in my apartment, hands in my underwear drawer sends a creepy chill down the back of my neck.
But then I shake it off. That doesn’t seem like the kind of manual labor Adam Archer would be into. No doubt he had some assistant do it. Let’s just hope it was a female assistant.
Quickly I unzip my dress and step out of it, slipping on some yoga pants and a loose t-shirt instead.
Rachel and Adam’s voices immediately quiet as soon as I open the door again and come back out into the living room. Adam’s assembling a cardboard box and Rachel has plucked a couple of paintings off the wall that she knows are mine.
“I won’t be able to get it all tonight, obviously.” I look around. “And what did you do with my couch and my mattress?”
“Storage,” Adam says, looking up.
Son of a—
“Why would you do that without talking to me, Adam?”
He straightens up after taping the box. “I was trying to be romantic.”
I huff out an exasperated breath. Okay, so we’re going to finally have this out. “Romantic would have been talking to me. Planning an engagement party with me. Not going behind my back and doing all this stuff when I didn’t even want it.”
“It wasn’t behind your back. I would have done it with you. If you’d been here.”
“Ever think there was a reason I wasn’t here?” I retort before I can think better of it. But screw it. Why should I have to walk around on eggshells just to protect his fragile ego? This is bullshit.
I run a hand through my hair and sigh. “Look, I’m just saying that if two people aren’t c
ommunicating, then that’s a big red flag. You should have tried harder to talk to me before things went as far as they did.”
Adam’s mouth tightens. “I was worried about you.”
I’m about to balk but then he comes close. “What are you doing, Daphne? I was trying to give you a way forward to keep Belladonna. This is what you’ve wanted your whole life.”
I open my mouth, then frown. I mean, yes, Belladonna has been my life. But is it the life I chose?
Wasn’t I just thinking that I’d be willing to sacrifice anything if it meant moving forward in this new freedom?
What if…what if I let Belladonna go?
I freeze at the impossibility of the idea. The thought is like a huge chasm yawning before me. But a few ideas immediately take form. Even without Belladonna, I can still pursue research. I’d be leaving Rachel, but we could still be friends. We could hang out—gasp—outside of work! And I could get more friends. For the first time in my life, I could have a life.
No more board trying to dictate my actions.
No more of Logan’s second-guessing my motives. It hasn’t been about the patents for a long time for me but finally, he wouldn’t have to doubt that. It might remove the last barrier to him trusting me.
I could do what I love, which is being down in the lab doing research, not the grind and glad-handing of being CEO, all of which I hate.
If tonight’s proven anything, it’s that I’m a new Daphne. The old one doesn’t fit the mold anymore. That’s what I’ve been learning in my time with Logan—that there’s more to life, more to me, than just the quiet, obedient daughter who does what she’s supposed to.
It’s all on the tip of my tongue. I’m a new Daphne, I want to say. But I feel myself shrinking under Adam and Rachel’s stares.
Not to mention that the room is strangely blurry. I put a hand to my head. I haven’t taken out my contacts yet, but the shadows on the wall seem to stretch, swallowing everything up.
What was I just thinking about? Right, Belladonna. “I don’t know if I want that anymore.”
“Really? What would your father say?” Adam asks, brow still furrowed in concern. “Battleman’s was his life’s fight. For the sake of the gods’, Daphne, what would your mother say?”
His words hit me with the weight of a freight train and I stumble back a step.
“Adam, that’s not fair,” Rachel starts but he holds up a hand to quiet her.
“I’m serious. Daphne, you’ve fought your whole life to save others like her. Are you going to give up on everyone else who’s sick just because, what?” he scoffs. “You don’t feel like it anymore?”
I shake my head, but everything that was so clear only moment ago has started to become fuzzy. “No, I- That’s, I- I would never give up on Battleman’s—” I put a hand on my hand and blink hard.
And then, as I’m looking at him, suddenly the world swoops sideways as a wave of dizziness hits me out of nowhere.
I grab for the wall, only barely catching myself as Rachel rushes to my side. “Daphne, are you okay?” she cries.
I blink hard but when I look up, there are two of her, then three, all dancing around. The dizziness only gets worse the more I blink and try to get my bearings. “I don’t feel so good,” I mutter as she helps me to the couch.
“How much did she drink at the ball?” Adam asks, sounding appalled.
I open my mouth to say I barely drank two sips of champagne at the ball but no sound comes out. Everything’s gone so blurry and liquid around me.
“Here, help me get her to the guest bedroom,” Adam says. “She can sleep it off there.”
The world goes even crazier, dipping and swooping, as Adam lifts me up in his arms and Rachel hurries near, her voice murmuring low words I can’t quite make out.
* * *
Everything’s moving so slow but when I blink and look around, I think it’s a long while later, maybe even an hour or two.
Loud voices make me blink to alertness. I don’t think I was asleep exactly, more like just really, really out of it. Something’s wrong. Really wrong. When I try to sit up or move my arms, they don’t respond right.
It’s like I’ve…like I’ve been drugged.
Holy shit. Holy shit…
The thought should be scary. It means I could be in danger. But it feels really detached. Far away.
Rachel’s here. She won’t let anything bad happen to me.
The door of the bedroom bursts open and a giggling Rachel comes in, her arms wrapped around Adam’s neck. What?
I blink puffy eyes, sure what I’m seeing can’t be right. The only light is from the window and the hallway, casting long shadows.
“Come on,” Rachel says. “It’s enough that she’s spending the night. We don’t have to do anything more.”
“Don’t be a bitch. Help me get her clothes off.”
That voice doesn’t sound anything like the Adam I know. It was mean. All his careful gentility is gone.
“Fine,” Rachel sighs, “but just her top. That’s all you’ll need for the pictures.”
“Whatever,” Adam says as they both move closer to me.
Run. Run. Escape.
But my arms and legs barely respond and the only thing that comes out of my mouth is a low groan.
“You hear that?” Adam laughs nastily. “She wants it. She’s practically begging for it.”
“Don’t be an ass.” Rachel comes over and shoves Adam out of the way, sitting on the bed beside me. I try desperately to make eye-contact with her but she studiously avoids looking at my face as she lifts me up enough to pull my t-shirt off over my head.
I’m left in the red lingerie I was wearing under my ballgown as she settles me back onto the pillows.
“Fuck, her nipples are pierced,” Adam mutters. “I knew she was hot, didn’t know she had a wild side.”
I can’t move my hands to cover my breasts but my shoulders hunch.
“Let’s just snap some pics and then leave her alone.”
“Don’t be such a buzzkill.”
The bed dips again and thick, cloying cologne wafts over me. Shivers crawl down my spine. It’s him. Adam. The man I completely misjudged. The monster behind the handsome prince’s mask. Gods, how could I have been so stupid as to come here tonight.
And Rachel… I search her out with my heavy eyes. She’s got her back turned as Adam climbs into bed with me.
When she finally turns around, she’s holding her phone.
“Okay, let’s do this.”
My confused brain takes a second to make sense out of the obvious, and it’s not until Adam pulls me against his bare chest, settling my hand against his too-pale skin and a camera flash goes off that it finally clicks.
They’re taking pictures of me. Naked pictures.
I want to scratch Adam’s eyes out and kick him in the balls. And then tear Rachel’s hair out by her pretty blonde roots.
Instead, all I can do is give confused, disagreeing moans as Adam moves me this way and that, moving my hair to get the best shot of my face, sometimes cupping my face, all the time making me want to barf on his overly waxed chest.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Rachel announces. “Let’s go back to your bedroom.”
“I don’t know,” Adam murmurs, running his hand down my chest and squeezing me. “I think we could have a lot of fun right here. You know how much I like them quiet and willing like this.”
“She’s not willing, she’s out of it.” Rachel’s voice is sharp, but then it softens. “But baby, I’ll do anything you want.” She moves behind Adam and starts to massage his shoulders. “I’ll suck you off. And I know you’ve been wanting to stick it up my ass. I’ll let you tonight. Just leave her alone.”
Finally Adam moves and his weight disappears from the mattress beside me. “You’ll let me? You’ll fucking let me?” His angry voice fills the room, echoing around my pounding head. “Have you forgotten how this arrangement works? You do what I fucking ask. An
d yes, I’ll take your ass. I’ll take it right here where she watches.”
But at that point, finally, blessedly, I pass out.
Twenty-Eight
Present Day
Daphne
Oh fuck, my head. I wake up, grabbing my head in my hands and squinting against the sunlight. What hellacious things did I do to my body last night?
Which is when I look around.
Wait up. Where the hell am I?
I jerk out of bed and get to my feet.
Mistake, mistake!
I grab my head and double over, feeling so nauseous I’m shocked I don’t lose my stomach right there by the side of the bed.
When I finally manage to make it to the attached bathroom, I sit hugging the toilet bowl for another ten minutes, and finally splash my face with cool water when the worst of it has passed.
Bits and pieces of last night come back to me, but most of it is a huge blank.
I remember Rachel and I coming over to Adam’s place. Adam and I were arguing. He said I was letting my Mom and Dad down. I cradle my queasy stomach as I try to remember what happened next.
I started feeling bad and Adam asked how much I’d had to drink at the party. He and Rachel helped me to the bedroom…
Then there’s just…nothing.
Nothing till I woke up a few minutes ago.
I brush my teeth with a spare toothbrush and throw on a t-shirt, then head out to the rest of the apartment to see if I can make more sense of what happened. “Adam? Hello? Rachel?”
But the place is empty. When I wander into the kitchen, there’s a note. Didn’t want to wake you, sleepyhead. There’s coffee in the carafe and some bagels and muffins. Help yourself to anything. I meant what I said last night. I was just trying to make your dreams come true. I hope we can talk more soon, Adam.
I stare at the note for a moment longer. It’s so friendly and fits in with everything I know about Adam…but something feels…off. I can’t explain it.
All I know is I don’t want to be here anymore. I shake my head and slip into my athletic shoes, then pull two heavy suitcases of my clothes behind me as I hit the elevators and head downstairs.
Beauty and the Thorns Page 14
