by Rebel Wild
It’s this place. It has to be this place. It has me too laid-back. I’m slipping up with her, allowing her to get too comfortable with me. The sooner we get back to LA and I get her back into the playroom, the better. We need to re-establish boundaries and forget about all this spur-of-the-moment bullshit that has me opening up to a goddamn submissive.
Fuck!
I wake up early, packing all my belongings so that we can head back to LA. I notice the first collar Mr. Garrett gave me mixed in with my clothes and take it out before I zip up my bag. I look around the room one last time before I meet him in the foyer where he’s waiting for me.
“Got everything?” He asks me as he takes my bag and gives it to who I’m guessing is the driver.
“Yes, sir,” I tell him, handing him my collar.
I turn around and hold my hair up so he can put it back around my neck. He kisses the spot where he fastens it on.
“Let’s get out of here,” he says. I take one last look at the house and follow him out the door.
“Are you feeling less closed in?” he asks me as we get settled on the plane.
“Yes, but I’m sad to leave. It’s a very enchanting place.”
“It does have a strange effect on people.”
Mr. Garrett has his hand on the small of my back, leading up the walkway to his house. I feel him stealing glances at me and I look down at myself, wondering what he keeps looking at. I have the collar with the silver bell on and the other one is in my bag with the leash so he can’t be mad that I’d forgotten them. Maybe it’s my outfit. I’m just wearing a simple yellow sundress. It is somewhat bright now that I’m looking at it, but I’m not the one who packed it, soooo… whatever.
He pushes open the door and allows me to enter first. Taking my hand, we walk into the great room where Joe’s talking to Brianna.
“Hey,” Joe says when he sees us, but he’s interrupted.
“Tristan is that you?” an older woman with dark hair, dressed to kill in a business dress suit comes out of the kitchen. “Joseph was just telling me he wasn’t expecting you back for…” She stops mid-sentence when she sees me standing next to Mr. Garrett. “Oh,” she says, clutching her hand to her chest. She’s so shocked, I have to stop myself from running over and checking on her.
“I had no idea you were here.” Mr. Garrett says to her. He seems to be just as taken aback as I am that she’s here, but he covers it well. He glares at Brianna and Joe and they slink out of the room.
She looks at me, our joined hands, and then up at him.
“Tristan,” she says. After a moment of us standing around looking stupid, I guess she decides to take the lead. “Where are your manners?” She bypasses him, holding out her right hand to me, and I let go of Mr. Garrett’s to take it. She smiles so warmly at me that I can’t help but smile right back at her. “Hello,” she says, as I shake her hand. “I’m Beverly, Tristan’s mom. And who might you be?”
Chapter Sixteen
What am I to say to her? “Hi, I’m Sydney, sir’s ‘friend’ who he likes to do naughty things to?” Or, better yet, “don’t mind me, I’m just his submissive. I’ll be heading up to his torture room in just a little bit.”
I stop thinking to myself when I realize my hesitation is about to get awkward.
“I’m Sydney, Sydney Warren,” I tell her. It seems the safer choice.
“What a lovely name, Sydney. And how is it that you two know each other?” she asks, but I’m sure what she wants to know is who am I to come strolling in here holding her son’s hand? I see a little glimpse of a momma bear in her.
I look for Mr. Garrett to answer. He’s failing to hide that he’s not happy with our exchange, but his mom doesn’t seem to be affected by his obvious bad mood.
“A mutual friend introduced us,” he tells her.
“How lovely,” she says, and I can tell that being vague is doing nothing to stop her curiosity. It’s having the opposite effect. “So, you’re dating?” She asks me, probably thinking she’ll get more information that way. Her eyes drift down to my neck. “What a pretty necklace.”
I touch my collar.
“Thank you.”
“It’s quite unique,” she says, smiling at me before giving a classic mom-look of chastisement to Mr. Garrett. “Wherever did she get it, Tristan?”
“Mother, please,” he tells her.
I can almost hear the whine in his voice, and I secretly love it.
“I’m just curious. You two are very friendly. How long ago did you say you met?”
“I didn’t say,” he tells her before turning to me. “Will you give us a moment?”
Oh, hell, where am I supposed to go?
I look at the stairs then at him and he nods in confirmation.
“It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Garrett,” I tell her.
“Call me Beverly.”
“Beverly,” I correct myself and then head upstairs.
I pretend to disappear into my room, but I hide against the wall and listen.
“She’s a very lovely girl,” Beverly says. “A bit young.”
“Yes, she is,” he says and I don’t know if he’s agreeing to the lovely girl part or the bit young part.
“You looked very happy when you came in.”
“What brings you by?” I hear him ask, completely redirecting her. I wonder if this is how he is in the courtroom.
“I stopped by to ask you to dinner tonight, but when your brother said you went to the beach house I was concerned.”
“Why?”
“You haven’t gone there alone since we buried your father. I thought something might have happened to drive you away, but imagine my surprise when I saw the two of you.”
“I just wanted to show her the area…” he tells her, but I can’t hear the rest of what he’s saying. Why isn’t she saying anything? Ugh, I want to peek, but I can’t risk being caught. “Mom, please, we’re just friends.” His voice is louder now. “Don’t make too much of it.”
“Of course,” she says. “I didn’t mean anything. Anyway, I want you at dinner. Aunt Rosemary is returning to Martha’s Vineyard first thing in the morning and you and your brother are mandated to say goodbye. I want Sydney to attend as well.”
“Absolutely not. I’m surprised you’d even suggest it. That’s highly inappropriate. It’s a family dinner.”
“I won’t take no for an answer,” Beverly tells him in what sounds like her no-nonsense-mom-voice. “We need someone to help us eat all that food and it’ll be nice to have another girl at the table.”
“What about Bree?”
“She’s not invited.”
“Mother—”
“Stop calling me mother,” she says and I slap my hand over my mouth to muffle my laugh. “I expect you all at eight o’clock sharp.” I hear her heels click on the floor as she walks away so I go to my room.
Dad used to get on me about eavesdropping, but I’m glad I never listened to him. I learned a lot about Mr. Garrett from his mother. She seems nice and friendly but controlled. Maybe that’s where he gets it from, but then again, Joe’s not that way. Then again, why do I care?
I hear him coming so I sit on the bed. I grab my phone and pose myself like I’ve been looking at it the whole time. I steal a glance at him as he stands awkwardly in the doorway after just being told the deal by his mom. I turn away as I laugh. Even Mr. Big Bad has a mom that can tell him what’s what.
“My mother asks that you join us for dinner tonight,” he tells me, coming in.
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re going to have to drop the sir. You may call me Tristan.”
“Really?” I say, almost bouncing off the bed.
I tried calling him Tristan once, not to his face, but to Daddy. He told me not to, that Mr. Garrett only wants to be called Mr. Garrett.<
br />
“For today,” he says. “Don’t get too comfortable with it.”
“Yes, sir,” I tell him and he raises an eyebrow at me. “Tr… Tristan.”
“Good. Joe’s waiting to take you to Twin Towers, then shopping for school supplies.” I have to force myself not to laugh at that. I swear I’m ten years old again, talking to Daddy. I frown in worry when I think of him. “Do you not want Joe to accompany you?” He asks, studying me.
“No, sir, I mean, Tr… Tristan. Joe’s fine.”
“Sydney, if you stutter my name one more time, I will punish you.”
“Sorry,” I say. “It just takes some getting used to.”
“I can always fuck it into you,” he says, and I’m not sure if I’m supposed to object to that or what. “Be downstairs in twenty minutes,” he calls back over his shoulder as he leaves.
I walk through School Depot with Joe in tow, pushing a shopping cart. I just came from seeing Daddy and my mood is borderline depressed. He told me that they moved him out of isolation and into a new cell with three other guys. He didn’t say much about it after that, but I know he’s bothered by it.
“Joe?”
“Yeah?”
“If I ask you a question, will you promise not to get mad and blow up at me?”
“You’re thinking of the other Garrett.”
“Right.” I laugh. “I know you’ve had run-ins with detectives, but have you ever been in jail?”
“I got caught up in a lot of bullshit that landed me in a few holding cells.”
“With other guys?”
“Fraid so,” he says before looking over at me. “You worried about your old man?”
“They moved him into a new cell and I think he’s scared.”
“It’s rough, kiddo. I’m not going to lie to you about that, but if your dad’s anything like you, he’s tough enough to handle it.”
“I hope so,” I say, turning back to the row of writing instruments. “Seriously,” I tell him, looking at all the different types of highlighters.
“I thought girls your age would be into this type of shit.”
“I usually am but right now I don’t see the point of all of this stuff.”
“I say that every school year,” he tells me and I give him a look.
“You go to school?”
“My son.”
“You have a son?” This man is as mysterious as his brother.
“Jonathan’s ten and I dread back to school shopping. The only thing that makes it worthwhile is I get to do it with him. Why don’t you buy one of each? You can never have too many highlighters.”
I laugh as I put all the colors in the cart.
By the time I’m done shopping, I have enough notebooks, folders, and pens to last until I graduate. Not to mention all the cute stuff I picked to decorate my desk. Joe was no help in persuading me against getting all this stuff. He even found this ruby red stiletto tape dispenser with a matching sticky note holder purse and I just love them.
I’m feeling better again, and by the time he and I make it back to Mr. Garrett’s place, I’ve talked the poor man’s ear off. I ask him a lot about Jonathan to keep him talking as I’ve discovered his son is his Achilles heel. He’s in the middle of telling me a funny story about his first experience at the water park when the front door opens. He stops talking and I quickly stop laughing when we see Mr. Garrett standing there glaring at the two of us.
“I’ll take all this up to your room,” Joe tells me and I thank him.
“You really went shopping,” Mr. Garrett says as he eyes Joe and all the bags.
“I went overboard. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m pleased you got everything you needed.”
“I forgot to get a backpack.”
“You still have time. Have you eaten?”
“I ate at the food court in the mall.”
Pleased with the knowledge that I’m not starving, he leaves me to my afternoon. The closer it comes time to leave for his mom’s place, the more nervous I become. I don’t know why. I’m sure her liking me has no bearings on him wanting to tie me up in his torture room. Still, I want her to think well of me. How mortifying would it be if she knew?
Or maybe she does know. Joe knows, so maybe it’s just no big deal. But then why would she be so surprised to see me?
I put it out of my head and hurry and get dressed to meet Mr. Garrett downstairs.
“Tristan, Tristan, Tristan,” I say to myself to get used to it. Whatever you do, don’t call him sir, Sydney. “Is this okay?” I ask him about my white dress as he watches me come down the stairs. I have on very little makeup and I managed to put on one of the pink lipsticks I know he likes.
He didn’t instruct me on what to wear. His only request was that I not wear the collar tonight. I guess having his mom mention it put a kink in the kinkiness.
She’s beyond “okay” she is breathtaking. That white dress is going to kill me. She even has the nerve to have on hot pink lipstick. How the hell am I supposed to get through this dinner watching that gorgeous mouth painted in hot pink and not want to fuck her?
“You look good,” I tell her.
I lead her out the door and what happened earlier today happens again. I steal glances at her while my cock presses into my pants. I thought it was just the way she looked in that yellow dress that had me feeling this way, but here it is again. I have to resist the urge to hike her dress up, rip off her panties, and fuck her on the steps of my front porch. She glances at me now, sensing my discomfort. Damn her, she seems not to be affected.
You are the goddamn Dom, Tristan. You don’t get affected.
Just when I couldn’t take it a moment longer the gods take pity on me and Joe pulls up in his SUV. I take her hand and yank her down the stairs and push her into the back seat. She sits quietly, looking out of the window at the darkening surroundings, wondering where we’re going. I can tell the moment she feels my eyes on her as she sits a little straighter and breathes a little faster. I smile at the way I affect her too.
“Hidden Hills,” I tell her, and she finally looks at me. “It’s where my mother lives.”
“Of course,” she says.
“You have nothing to worry about. Everyone will adore you,” I tell her, knowing that my mother already does.
It’s not every day she invites people to the family house for dinner. Bree’s still waiting for her invitation, but hell will have to freeze over first. In Mom’s mind, two ex-drug addicts aren’t right for each other.
I catch Joe looking at us in the rearview, and I want to give him the finger when he smirks at me. I ripped him a new ass for not giving me a heads-up about Mom. I can’t believe she showed up today of all days. Realistically, it was bound to happen. She has full access to my house and she doesn’t have to call first. I suppose it could have been worse. She could have walked in on me fucking her.
“Uh, how many people am I meeting tonight?”
“My mother, ex-model/actress, Beverly Garrett, her sister, fashion designer, Rosemary Moreland, and her son, Tyler.”
“What does Tyler do?”
“He annoys me.”
We pull up to the drive and I spot Tyler coming out the front door, grinning like an idiot waiting for us to get out of the car. I know he’s just itching to get a look at Sydney. If I know Mom, she ran right back here and started running her big mouth to her sister. I get out first and give him a look of warning before I help her out. I take her hand and lead her up the walk.
“What’s happening, cousin?” He says to Joe and me the moment we’re in earshot.
“My ass,” Joe says, walking past him into the house.
Tyler pays him no mind. He’s still grinning like a damn fool at Sydney.
“Well, damn, Triscuit,” he says and I have to stop myself f
rom popping him in the mouth for calling me that in front of Sydney. I can barely stand when Joe does it and I like him. “I can’t believe she’s real. I swore Aunt Bev had gotten hold of Joe’s meth when she told us. You must be Sydney. I’m Tyler, Triscuit’s older and more handsome cousin.”
“Hi,” Sydney says much too fucking enamored by him and I pull her to me possessively.
Of course, Tyler notices. He purposely eye-fucks Sydney to get me pissed and it works.
I’m just about to tell him to go fuck himself when his girlfriend comes slithering out of the door like the snake that she is. The girl is like a cheese grater on a chalkboard. It makes sense that Tyler would go for her. Sydney and I have to watch while she rams her forked tongue down his throat.
“I’ll see you later tonight,” she tells him and he nods. “Hello, Tristan. Nice to meet you Sydney, I’m Tyler’s girlfriend, Tiffany.”
She holds out her manicured hand for Sydney to shake and I almost snatch her away. Who the hell knows where she’s been? And thank fuck, she’s not staying.
“See you later, alligator,” Tyler says, watching her go.
The instant those words are out of his mouth, Sydney looks at me, biting her lip as she giggles and I shake my head in amusement at her. My cousin’s catchphrases haven’t changed since preschool.
I lead Sydney into the foyer.
“Breathe,” I tell her. I can feel her nervousness from here.
“She’s here,” Tyler yells as he comes in behind us. All I hear are the sounds of people moving as they come in from all corners of the house.
Mom approaches her first with her arms out ready to hug her. She introduces her to Aunt Rosemary, who slides her bifocals down her nose to get a good look at her. Her approving smile says it all.
“Tyler,” Mom says, “why don’t you offer Sydney a drink while I talk to Tristan.”
“Sure thing, Aunt Bev,” Tyler says, pulling Sydney away from me before I can object. “What do you have a taste for?” He asks her. “We have everything here. The old ladies love the sauce.”
