by Emma Roberts
"I believe I get to make that determination," I growled. "And I've already made my decision. Whitney is mine. I'm keeping her for as long as she wants to be in my bed. And if you lay a finger on her, I'll make sure you're arrested."
She grinned. "Well, I'm afraid you're a little late on that count. From what I saw in the hospital, that little accident I arranged for her knocked her around pretty good."
I stood frozen for an instant as her words trickled into my consciousness. Then I was moving forward. I wasn't sure exactly what I was going to do to her, but it was not going to be good.
Vanessa's arm shot out as though she was going to put a hand on my bicep to stop me. Something flashed in her hand, and then there was a sharp sting in my arm. I got one good look at a syringe sticking out of my arm before my vision began to blur.
"What did you...stick me with...you bitch?" I slurred. She went a little blurry around the edges, and my knees finally gave out. The hard smack of my head against the tile was enough to finish the job the drug had started.
The last thing I registered before I passed out was a gentle hand on my arm and Vee's voice whispering into my ear. "I don't think you're going to make that party, lover. Don't worry. I'll take good care of Whitney while you're gone."
14
Whitney
Jace didn’t come home Friday morning. Or Saturday. By five o’clock, it felt like someone had lodged a golf ball in my throat. I couldn’t breathe. I could barely swallow. My chest felt tight, and I just wanted to scrape my skin away.
I ascended the the stairs up to the guest bedroom that Jace had assigned me. It felt like each step grew heavier until I was just dragging myself down the hall. I stopped halfway down the hall with its ridiculously plush carpeting, braced my back against the wall, and slid down into a crumpled heap.
He wasn't coming. He'd lied to me. I only had an hour until I needed to be at Brandon's party. If Jace had planned to meet me there, he would have told me.
I was going to have to go it alone, just like I’d had to do before he'd swooped into my life to save me.
A very small and petty part of me told me to skip it altogether. By now, Vanessa would have spread the fact that I was dating Jace around New York's upper echelons. To show up without him, besides being devastating on a very real and personal level, was going to cause gossip that I just didn't want to put up with.
James paused on his way past and peered down at me with concern evident in his dark eyes. "Are you alright, Miss Farbridge?"
"Do I look alright?"
He flinched. "I suppose that was a stupid question."
"Have you heard anything from Jace?" I asked hopefully. From the few interactions I'd seen between the two, James and Jace seemed friendly. Maybe Jace had sent him with a message from me. But my hopes were dashed the next second when he shook his head.
"I'm afraid the last communication I had with Master Jace was the same as yours. He bid me farewell before his trip to Long Island, and I have not heard from him since.”
I drew in a shuddering breath. I couldn't get up. I couldn't get up and face this without him. It was going to be an absolute disaster. But if I didn't go, my parents were going to assume accurately that I'd blown through my savings and didn't have the stones to show up empty-handed. The cufflinks in my purse were the only thing that was going to save my position in the family. And I had to hold onto that. What else did I have? Jace was gone. No doubt he'd come back and tell me to clear out. I wouldn't have my boyfriend. I wouldn't have a home to go back to. I wouldn't have the job I had worked damn hard at.
"James, could I ask a favor of you?" I asked in barely a whisper.
"Of course, Miss Farbridge. What do you need?"
I pointed a shaking finger down the hall. "I need my purse and the first dress you can get your hands on in my closet."
He gave me a searching look but didn't ask questions. He nodded and strode past me, down the hall to my room. He emerged a few moments later with my purse and the silver dress that I'd worn on my first day here. A watery chuckle escaped me. How ironic that the dress I'd started this whole mess in would be the one I would exit in as well. He set my purse down next to me with care and bowed slightly at the waist. "I will be downstairs if you need me, Miss Farbridge. Would you like me to pull the car around? As I understand it, you'll need to leave soon."
"If you would."
James nodded again and disappeared back the way he'd come. I barely had the energy to strip off my clothes in the hallway and shimmy into the dress. I padded over to the nearest gilded mirror and examined myself in its surface.
I was a mess. My blonde hair hung lank and a little woebegone. My eyes were red, and my face was flushed blotchily. Where had the cocky woman who'd worn this dress gone?
Oh, right. I'd had my heart shattered into a million pieces by the first man who'd actively seemed to care. It's probably what I deserved for trusting anyone. Everyone left eventually.
So that left me with one question. How did this night play out?
I had a gift. There was no reason at all I couldn't just get completely smashed and take some willing man home to the high-rise apartment that my parents rented for me. But my mind immediately rejected that course of action.
Jace may have abandoned me. But he had taught me a valuable lesson before he'd gone.
I could be a grown up. I could and would face this trial by fire, even if he wasn't going to be there when I did it.
So I'd be on my best behavior for my own sake. I'd smile and I'd dance and I'd be a damn saint. And when it was done? I was clearing out of here, and I'd visit that club Alma had mentioned to me.
When I was free, I was in the market for a new daddy.
“Oops!” Vanessa said, stumbling into me almost the moment I came in the door. My purse was knocked from my arm in the resulting collision, and things went spilling everywhere.
Vanessa dropped to her knees to help me pick everything up, giving the men behind her a very appealing flash of her backside. She helped me stuff all of my things back into the Gucci bag haphazardly.
“Sorry!” Vanessa hiccuped. “I think I might have had one too many Appletinis.”
“It’s fine,” I grumbled. “Have you seen Jace?”
Traitorous hope flitted through me. It would be abominably rude not to tell me he was coming and leave me in the lurch, but I’d take it if it meant he hadn’t run.
She shook her head. "Nope. Sorry, sweetie. But I guess it really isn't a surprise, is it? He's gorgeous and richer than God. He's a real catch, and you're...well, you're you."
If there hadn't been witnesses, I would have hauled off and smacked her in the face. As it was, I was running late, I hadn't worn makeup, and I hadn't wrapped Brandon's present. I was going to get enough of a dressing down from my mother already without assaulting a guest. So I contented myself with a snotty, "Fuck you very much too, Vanessa."
Her tinkling laugh followed me into the next room. My parent's ballroom was easily the size of the apartment I rented. Mom had decked out the big, well-lit room in shades of red and white. Every table had a huge centerpiece of red and white roses. The tablecloths were all embroidered linen bought specifically for this occasion and would never be used again.
For the first time, I really saw the extravagance. All the waste. My parents spent more than a person's average annual income for our birthday parties every year. Each. The sour taste that had filled my mouth since leaving the McCarthy Mansion Jace-less intensified. I just wanted out of this place as soon as possible. I'd give Brandon my gift, a hug, and a kiss, and then I'd get out of here. Maybe I'd dial up Alma and see if I could find a new daddy for the night. I was craving the feel of a man's strong hands on me. I wanted a strong, masculine voice in my ear, and I wanted to be punished. I wanted someone to hurt me until it dwarfed the aching wound that Jace had torn into me with his absence.
Just an hour. I only had to play nice for an hour.
There was a throng of well-wishe
rs gathered around my brother's table. He had a stack of gifts about as high as my BMW. More extravagance. More waste. When would he possibly use all of it? I bet half of this would be returned or sold for cash. All of the money would go into improvements on Club Tanière.
I approached the table. Brandon smiled broadly when he saw me. "Hey, sis. Glad you could make it. Mom was convinced you'd decided to skip."
"Nope. Just got caught in traffic. Sorry about missing the opening festivities."
He shrugged. "It's okay."
My father sank into the chair beside Brandon and scowled at me. "It is not 'okay,' Brandon. Your sister needs to learn to grow up. I notice she's not brought a date."
His eyes narrowed, and he glared at me. "Do you have a gift for your brother, Whitney?"
"Of course, I do," I snapped, digging a hand into my purse and groping for the box that contained his cufflinks. Honestly. The sooner I could get this over with, the sooner I could leave. Instantly would not be soon enough.
My fingers made a complete revolution of my bag. Ice dropped into my stomach when I realized the familiar shape of the box was not inside.
"I...it was right here," I stammered. "I swear. I dropped my purse in the foyer. It's probably out there."
A shadow seemed to cross over my father's face for an instant before the thunderous rage eclipsed him. He stood. Though he wasn't much taller than I was, he still seemed to tower over me.
"I warned you, Whitney," he hissed. "I warned you at Christmas time. I lowered the budget on your card. I did everything I possibly could to prevent this. But you don't leave me any choice."
"Daddy-" I began weakly. Even saying it felt wrong. This man wasn't really a good father, was he? He didn't deserve the respect that word conveyed.
He cut across me in an instant. "What happened? Did you spend it all on yourself? Were you being selfish, as always?"
I waited for the tears to come. This was exactly the sort of thing I'd been trying to avoid. It seemed like it had always been inevitable. It didn't matter that I'd earned the money or bought the gift. All of the bad behavior in my past had come back to bite me in the ass. Time to reap what I had sown.
"Yeah, Dad, I did. I guess I'm just a selfish, bratty disappointment. I'll go now."
I turned on my heel and walked out. Each of my steps echoed in the suddenly still room. Of course, everyone had stopped to listen to my moment of disgrace. Fuck them. Fuck all of this. I was a grown up. Jace had made me into one. I only had about four hundred dollars to my name and no plan, but I walked out of there with my head held high.
Brandon would let me sleep on a bed at Club Tanière. I'd figure out the rest in the morning.
15
Jace
It was a good thing the police had Vee in custody, or I’d have throttled her and not in the way she liked.
I’d woken in a pile of trash missing everything but my clothes, and even some of those had been stolen. My phone, my wallet, my suit jacket, and my rings were stolen. It had been a bit of clever thinking on Vee’s part to place me where the homeless could pick over my possessions. When I’d stumbled into the police station in the wee hours after coming to, no one had believed that I was who I’d said I was.
It had taken grueling hours to get anyone to take me seriously and still longer to get someone who could pick me up. By the time someone had arrested Vee for assault, I was spitting mad.
Devlin cringed away from me when I hurled myself into the front seat of the car and buckled myself in. He was still recovering from the crash, but he had insisted on returning to work as soon as the doctor had cleared him.
“Where’s Whitney?” I demanded. “What happened to her?”
His eyes showed too much white. He looked like a horse that was about to bolt. I tried to modulate my tone so that I wasn’t shouting him. He didn’t deserve that.
“Please. I need to know.”
He licked his lips nervously. “I don’t know all of the details. Just what I heard people saying. She claimed she lost the gift she had for her brother, but in light of what happened to you, boss, I’d say it was stolen.”
I nodded grimly. “Sounds like Vee. What happened?”
“Daniel Farbridge made a big production of tossing her out. But she took it like a champ. She wasn’t crying or anything when I dropped her off at her brother’s place.”
"Take me there."
Devlin hesitated. "I don't know if you should, sir. She was really upset with you. She was talking about going to that club you like."
The thought of Whitney wandering alone in the Vault, making herself available to whichever dom wanted her, made my blood heat a few degrees.
"Give me your phone. I need to call her.”
"What happened to yours, boss?"
"It's in the hands of a homeless man, no doubt. Now give me your phone, Devlin."
He rummaged around in the compartment next to him until he produced his phone. He tossed it lightly into the backseat without taking his eyes off the road. I unlocked the phone and took several minutes to undo the safety precautions that would normally keep the phone from working while the car was in motion. Then I pulled up his contacts and dialed Whitney's number.
The phone rang three times before she picked up. Her voice was thick, but I couldn't tell if it was from sleep or from tears. "Hello?"
"Whitney. Are you okay?"
There was a moment of frosty silence on the other end of the phone before she exploded. I held the phone away from my ear, but I could still hear every single word she was saying clearly.
"Am I okay? Am I okay? You don't have any right to call me up and act like some concerned parent, you fucking asshole!"
I bit back my instinctual response to the disrespect. I'd earned this. If I hadn't left her side in the first place, none of this would have happened. I'd promised to protect her. I'd promised to make sure she was taken care of. And when she'd needed me the most, I'd been passed out in downtown Rochester, being pawed at by a homeless man.
"Whitney, if you'll calm down, I can explain."
"Calm down? How the hell do you expect me to be calm? Everything is ruined. And it's your fault. If you had been there, my father might have...he might..." She trailed off, and I heard the distinct sound of a sob.
"I know," I murmured fervently. "I know. I am so sorry, baby girl."
"You don't get to be sorry," she snapped. "You ran away from me. You lied to me. And I'm done with that shit, Jace."
"Shut, up," I finally snapped, slipping into the familiar, demanding role of a dominant. When I used this tone, people rarely argued with me. I wasn't sure if it was going to cut through the haze of Whitney's rage, but it was worth a shot.
For a few seconds, all I heard was heavy, labored breathing. "Bastard," she finally hissed.
"I deserve that. Stay put, baby girl. I'm coming to find you. And then, you and I are going to talk."
"You don't even know where I am."
"Did you not check your caller ID? This is Devlin's phone. He knows exactly where he dropped you off."
"Too lazy to use your own?"
"Mine was stolen, actually, much like your cufflinks. When Vanessa Marfont dumped my ass into a back alley."
Whitney's breath caught. "Vanessa did what? Why were you with her? Was she the reason you-"
"Calm down, baby girl. We're pulling into a space outside Club Tanière. If you want to hear the whole story, then you're going to have to let me in."
The phone beeped twice, signaling that she'd hung up. It wasn't a very promising sign, but I supposed the response could have been worse. She could have just said, "Fuck no."
Devlin pulled the Mercedes into a spot outside of Club Tanière. The place was pretty much deserted at this time of day, with only one or two people moving around inside. Probably the cleaning crew. I pushed past the crowd of pedestrians making their way down the sidewalk and strode purposely up to the door. It swung open before I could raise a hand to knock.
&nb
sp; Whitney was framed like a model in the doorway. The silk nightie she wore looked like it had belonged to someone a little chestier than she was, but otherwise, it fit like a glove. Her long creamy legs were on display, and even with her face free of makeup and her hair in snarls, she was the loveliest thing I'd seen all day. Her pouty pink lips opened, presumably to give me the lecture of a lifetime.
I cut her off with a kiss.
Her hands came up to my chest as though she might push me off of her. Instead, they curled into my shirt and pulled me closer as she made a muffled, heartbroken sound in the back of her throat. I pushed her back a few steps into the club's interior and then pulled the door shut behind us.
The darkness of the place was almost total. Only the neon lights that backlit the bottles at the bar provided any illumination at all.
She broke away from me with a ragged gasp and finally pushed me away.
"Jerk. And you smell like a garbage heap. What happened to you?"
"Drugged and left for dead. You're right, Whitney. I shouldn't have run. And I'm sorry about what happened at the party. Your friend stole the cufflinks, I'm almost sure of it."
She crossed her arms beneath her bosom and glared at me. "Yeah. You said something about that. What on earth were you talking about?"
It was finally time to be honest with her, I supposed. I'd been dreading this moment because I knew it would end in a fight. But as a fight appeared inevitable, I might as well tell her.
"Do you remember the day I had you help me with my inbox?"
She squirmed, and the flush of color high in her cheeks told me she did. "Yeah. What about it?"
"The last name I had you code? Vee M.? That was her."
The blotchy color in her cheeks spread until her whole face was flushed. "Are you telling me you were seeing her while we were together?"
"No. That's what I'm trying to tell you. She was a casual play partner I had months before this. We met at a party at the local BDSM club. She wanted more. I didn't. I've been telling her to get lost for months now."
