Green Broke Woman

by Zoey Marcel

  “I don't understand. I thought you liked me.” Why the hell couldn't she get her voice up to a decent volume right now? All this hushed pleading would likely get her nowhere, not that arguing with him would either.

  His eyes hooded, and his head dropped. “I do like you, Kayla.”

  Her heart swelled with happiness and ached with need when he took her hand in his and caressed his thumb over the top of hers.

  The words that proceeded from his mouth killed her. “But we can never see each other again.”

  Her eyes brimmed with tears. She had to wipe them away to see his beloved face again. “Why not?”

  “It doesn't matter why. What matters is that I trained you to be the perfect slave or sub, depending on what your cowboy wants.” Master Hugh seemed beside himself, and the mature lines in his face only deepened with each frustrated twist of his sad features. “If he's good to you, don't let him go, but don't you settle for anything less than you deserve. I taught you to be submissive, not stupid.”

  Her eyes flooded with tears. “I want to stay with you. Please don't send me away. I'll get better with practice, and you can even stick your junk in my trunk.” She squeezed his hand tighter. “Just please don't leave me.”

  The way he stared down at the cup-holders with a look of complex self-examination made her wonder if he was strongly tempted to give into her.

  “It's fucked up,” he murmured, half to himself with an incredulous shake of his head. “It's so ironic it's staggering. Just my luck.”

  “What is? I can change if I'm not enough for you. Please, Master.” She plastered her lips to the top of his hand and wept onto his skin like it was going out of style.

  He let her kiss him, but after an all too short moment he pulled his hand away. The retreating motion of rejection scourged her somewhere deep in her chest. It was like being spurned by Travis Langley all over again, only this time the pain was deeper, so much worse. Was it because she'd actually slept with Hugh Randall and submitted to him for two years?

  “I put some money in your wallet last night after we made ... screwed.” He looked almost as depressed as she felt.

  Kayla choked on a sob, feeling small and stupid that he saw her cry and wasn't in tears himself. “Is that what we did—screwed?”

  “What else would you call it when two people fuck?”

  Her soul shattered. This was out of character for him. True, he was blunt, but he was never cruel with his words and he'd always been sympathetic to her tears. Now she was drowning in them and falling apart in front of him, and he didn't care.

  She brushed away her tears and peeked into her wallet, trying to be brave. “Thanks. How much did you give me?”

  “Five hundred dollars. Spend it wisely.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Why so much?”

  “You might need it.” He paused for a moment, looking straight ahead. “I saw that picture last night while you were in the shower—the one of you with three men. Who are they to you?”

  She exhaled in relief. “Is that what this is about? Master, you have nothing to worry about. Those are the Langley brothers. They've been friends of mine since childhood.”

  Master Hugh gave her a knowing look. “Which one of them is the cowboy I trained you for?”

  “Travis,” she said quietly.

  “But you have feelings for all of them? Be honest. I won't judge you.”

  “Yes.” Her eyes closed in shame.

  What must he think of her? Even if she found the courage to tell him how she felt about him now, he'd never believe her, not after she admitted to caring for three men at once, brothers no less.

  “If you had to pick one of them, who would it be?”

  Kayla glanced down at the picture of the three men she'd loved since childhood. Finally she shook her head, tears of frustration pouring down her face. “I don't know. I can't. You pick for me, Master.”

  He took the photograph from her and studied it. His lips twitched into a mildly interested half smile before misery lay claim to his complexion again. “This one is trouble. I can tell. What's his name?”

  She smiled weakly at the handsome, dark-haired cowboy he pointed to. “Jake. He's kind of a player.”

  Master Hugh's crooked smile was genuine this time before his expression turned grave again. “This one looks like the youngest.”

  She nodded when she saw the sandy-haired hottie her Master pointed to. “Yeah, he is. That's Keith.”

  “What is he like?”

  She felt a stirring in her chest when she looked at the picture and spoke of each Langley brother. “He's part dreamer, part bad-boy, and part sweetheart.”

  Master Hugh looked down at him for a long moment in silence. “Is he happy?”

  She thought back. “Yes and no. Sometimes he seems lost like he doesn't know what he wants out of life.”

  “Or maybe he does know, but is miserable because he can't ever have it,” Master said quietly. He shook himself out of his tragic trance and pointed to the cowboy with long brown hair. “This one looks like the oldest.”

  Kayla smiled big, feeling her chest constrict. She'd been in the middle with their arms around her as they posed for the picture the Langleys’ mother had taken that day. Kayla had done her absolute best to behave normally and not faint in their arms or make out with them like a boy-crazy fiend.

  “That's Travis. He's the oldest and my best friend.”

  Master Hugh studied the photograph for a minute in silence. “He probably has a good head on his shoulders and a good heart in his chest.”

  His keen observation of each man surprised her. “He does. I envy the woman he marries.”

  She searched Master's eyes for jealousy. Hugh handed her the picture again. “Don't. That woman can be you if you get on that plane in time.”

  He clicked the button so the locks popped up. A feeling of desolation set in. “Will you kiss me goodbye?”

  His eyes squeezed shut. “That's not a good idea.”

  Tearstains soaked her cheeks. “Why not?”

  He looked around the parking lot before sighing. “It just isn't. You'll never get on that plane if I do.”

  She ran her fingers through her hair, digging into her scalp in tearful aggravation. “Damn it, Master. This doesn't make any sense.”

  “Don't swear at me.”

  “I'll fucking swear if I want to!” She pounded the dashboard and glared at him, though her air quickly turned back to begging. “I gave you my virginity and two years of my life in perfect obedience to your will, and now you're sending me away.”

  “We agreed from the beginning that this was only temporary.”

  “But I thought things had changed between us.” The tears froze as she grappled for his hand, cursing her desperation. “Last night the way you looked at me, the way you held me and the things you said…” She couldn't stop the tears from falling faster as she took a napkin from the glove compartment and wiped her fogged up glasses clean before putting them back on. “No, I don't believe it. If this was only about sex to you, you would have taken me sooner, but you didn't. You gave me everything last night. I felt it.”

  He looked as depressed as she felt. “We had a deal, remember? Now do the honorable thing and hand over your training collar.”

  Her eyes burned, and her jaw clenched in anger. She lightly touched her black collar, feeling a dull ache in her throat at the thought of relinquishing it. “No.”

  “It would be disrespectful of you to keep it when our relationship is over.”

  “And whose fault is that?” she shrieked, storming out of the car.

  “Kayla.”

  “What?” she growled, yanking her luggage from the backseat and slamming the back door shut.

  He waited until she lowered her head near the rolled down passenger's side window. “Pick Travis. He's more husband material than the other two. He's stubborn, but he'll stand by what he believes in and he'll always do what's right by you. Jake needs to learn to commit before
he settles down, and Keith probably needs therapy before he can learn to take care of a woman.”

  His insight was mind-boggling, but she was still ticked at him. “How would you know?”

  “I'm good at reading people, remember?”

  “Well, read this, you bastard!” She flipped him off and lugged her suitcase away, cursing its weight that inhibited her from storming away in an epic, kick-ass manner.

  “Kayla!” Master Hugh yelled for her.

  Curse her submissive body for turning and going back to him. “What?”

  His voice lowered to the tender hush she was starving for. “You were always my favorite, cinnamon.”

  Kayla's throat ached, and a fresh wave of tears streamed down her face at the beloved pet name he'd coined her with once he'd started training her. He'd always likened her hair to the fragrant spice. “Your favorite slave or lover?”

  He started the engine and gave her a loving smile as he began to pull forward. “Both.”

  She choked on a sob as he drove away, leaving her standing there alone. He loved her. She knew he had to. It was there in those magnificent eyes of his. They wouldn't lie to her even if his mouth had. Her Master loved her.

  Then why did he leave her?

  Chapter Two: Down On Her Luck

  Hugh took a casual, inconspicuous glance around him as he approached the messenger at their rendezvous. It was a public place, so the odds of him getting shot in the back in broad daylight were pretty slim.

  “Did you bring the money?” the man asked.

  “You'll get your money,” Hugh snapped. “First tell me what I want to know.”

  “Master!”

  He tried to remain calm as he looked over his shoulder and saw Kayla Sanders wave at him and pick up her pace.

  The man next to him looked pissed and nervous. “I told you to come alone.”

  “I did. She's just the hooker I nailed last night. She probably wants more money. Excuse me. I'll get rid of her.”

  Hugh's heart galloped furiously in his chest as he strode swiftly toward his foolish, happy-go-lucky slave. She had no clue what kind of danger she was in coming back to him like this, and he'd never been more afraid for anyone in his life. If anything happened to her…

  She was beaming when he reached her. “I couldn't get on the plane. I need to tell you something.”

  “We had a deal.” Hugh raised his voice so the nearby man would hear him. He hoped he couldn't hear Kayla talk as well. “You gave me sex, and I gave you money. Now quit harassing me for more.”

  Her eyes bugged out, and her jaw dropped. “That's what the five hundred dollars was for? Is that how you see me—as a whore?”

  This charade killed him, but it was the only way to protect her … from him. “That's exactly what you are. Look, it was fun, but I'm done with you, so buzz off.”

  Her eyes welled. “You don't mean that. Master, I ... I lo—”

  “Here.” He raised his volume in faux aggravation, scared to death that the other man would hear Kayla's confession. Hugh rummaged through his wallet and handed her some bills. “That's more than we agreed to, but it's worth it if I never see you again. I have to at least try to keep face, you know.”

  The words ate him alive. He hated himself for saying them to her, but it was the only way to get rid of her and consequently, to protect her.

  Tears dribbled down her face. “Master, you're breaking my heart. Please, just listen to what I have to say. I think it will make a difference.”

  “It won't,” he growled and turned his back to her, fighting the natural expression of devastation that threatened to invade his countenance as he made his way back toward the man.

  Hugh turned when he heard a clink on the cement. His slave had taken off her black training collar and thrown it on the ground. The gesture ripped his heart in two. He met her saturated hazel eyes and watched in anguish as she stomped off with tears pouring down her pretty face. God, he wanted to go after her, but that would put her in danger.

  He turned back to face the man seated on a bench, observing all of this. Hugh threw up his arms in a feigned act of frustration. “Hookers. Nothing like a tramp threatening to ruin your reputation unless you give her more money.”

  The man tilted his head sideways, looking past him to the place where Kayla had thrown down her collar. “She looked upset. Why did she throw her choker on the ground?”

  “Like you said, she was upset. Don't tell me you're the rocket scientist of the bunch.”

  The man still appeared suspicious as he stroked his chin, deep in thought. “It looked like a collar to me.”

  “Is that what that was? Well, she is a bit of a Gothic freak.”

  The lech smiled. “A freak, huh? Perhaps I should call on her.”

  “Go right ahead if you want to be stalked and blackmailed into emptying your bank account on her. She's a decent lay, but not worth the price. I've had better for free.”

  He'd never fully understood the logic behind love making sex better, but last night he'd learned the meaning fully. His precious cinnamon-haired slave was young and inexperienced, but she had his heart in her hands in a way no one else ever had. A cautious night of gentle lovemaking from her meant more to him than the rowdy romps of his past.

  And she was the one woman he could never have. Well, that just figured.

  Kayla could be in danger now that she'd been seen with him in such a critical moment. Why hadn't she had the good sense to board the damned plane? He couldn't stay with her or she'd likely end up dead, but she needed protection now more than ever. He wouldn't leave her hanging. If he couldn't be her protector, then he'd find someone else to do the job for him.

  ****

  Travis Langley answered the ringing phone. “Hello?”

  No answer.

  “Hello?”

  Silence continued from the other end. Only “Need You Now” by Lady Antebellum played on the other person's side. Who the hell was it that kept ringing their number every once in a while and not answering?

  He hung up and got ready for his date, knotting the tie around his neck, but his thoughts weren't on Veronica. They were on another woman.

  Kayla Sanders had been his best friend since they were kids. He was about eight years older than she was, but he'd always looked after her like a big brother when her father was too busy with ranch work and trying to pay the never ending pile of bills. Her mother had died when she was little.

  Then Kayla turned eighteen, and he finally admitted that everything had changed. He realized he loved her, but she'd been so young at the time.

  Travis still smiled at the night she'd climbed up a ladder and into his bedroom window a few months after she turned eighteen. She was always pestering him late at night, climbing up his window to chat about something or other. She reminded him of a little cricket in that sense, doing most of her talking at night when he was trying to sleep. On that particular night a few months after her eighteenth birthday, he'd woken up ready to shoot the intruder's head off, but her sweet voice had stopped him. She'd climbed onto the bed with him and professed her longstanding love for him, offering to give him her purity.

  As much as he cared for her and as tempted as he'd been, her youth and innocence had given him cause for reserve. He was deeply into BDSM, and the little virgin sitting doe-eyed and innocent on his bed with him hadn't had a clue the sort of things that he'd need from her.

  Moreover she had dreams, dreams of an acting career in California. She'd always told everyone how she'd shake the dust from her cowgirl boots and leave the country behind for good. She wanted to see the bright lights and make a name for herself.

  All he'd wanted was to be her everything, to make a life with her and raise their kids on the ranch. But their dreams had been conflicting. He wouldn't hold her back only to have her resent him or leave him and their kids later in life. He had let her go, and he'd regretted it ever since.

  He hummed while he readied himself for his date. Not bad looki
ng for thirty-two. He paused for a moment with a smile, realizing he had that song he’d heard on the phone in his head. It always made him think of Kayla. She'd been on his mind since the day he discovered that he loved her. No woman would ever be her.

  He pulled the small box containing Veronica's engagement ring out of his suit pocket. She was a nice girl. Vanilla, but that was fine by him now. Maybe his expectations had just been too high in the past. She was attractive and enjoyed some things he did, but somehow it wasn't enough. He needed more. He needed Kayla, but he hadn't seen or heard from her in six years.

  Her father didn't even know where she was since they'd parted on less than satisfactory terms.

  Travis figured as the oldest it was his duty to settle down first and maybe his two younger brothers would follow suit and stop living on false hope that someday Kayla would come back to them. He needed to move on with his life. They all did, but the thought of waking up next to another woman as his wife made his chest hurt even more than having to wake up alone each morning.

  Was he doing the right thing? Veronica wanted kids ... someday. Kayla had been on the fence—another incompatibility, but that was years ago. Maybe she’d since changed her mind.

  Veronica was vanilla. Kayla was ... well, he doubted she was still a virgin, but what were her tastes?

  Ah, who was he kidding? He'd get a vasectomy and turn vanilla if Kayla was the one he got to share his life with. He would miss BDSM and the dream of having children, but he'd realized too late that he missed her more since she'd left.

  He heard his little sister, Miranda Langley, coming down the stairs.

  “You'll regret it,” she drawled in a sing-song kind of tone.

  “Veronica's a good woman,” Travis said, debating whether or not to propose tonight or keep putting it off.

  Veronica deserved a whole heart, not to be second best. Of course, he figured he deserved a shot at healing, but deep down he knew he was requiring a task of her that she'd never be able to accomplish. No woman could erase what Kayla had meant to him, what she still meant to him and probably always would.

  Miranda pulled out a chair and kicked her heels up on the wooden table, looking confident that their mother wasn't around anymore to remind her to be a lady. “She is a good woman, but she's not the right woman for you. Don't settle, brother.”