by BL Mute
“You’re on time,” he bites out.
I push down all the uneasiness I feel and act like it’s just another day and flip the switch to the feisty bitch, as Carter calls it. “Of course I am. Would hate to piss you off even more.” I roll my eyes.
His top lip raises with a snarl. “Oh? And why would I be pissed off, Lydia?”
I walk further inside and plop down on the chair in front of his desk. “Because you think you saw something. Key word: think.”
He lets out a low laugh and stands from his chair. Now that he’s standing and walking around his desk, I don’t feel as brave as before. I don’t know if I can keep this shit up with him looming over me like some sort of gray cloud.
“Think? No, baby girl. I know what I saw.” He leans against his desk and crosses his arms over his chest. “It was crystal fucking clear.”
Before I can spit back a reply, he leans forward swiftly and snatches a piece of my blonde hair between his fingers. The motion makes me jump, but I erase my unease and try to feign bored instead.
“I’ve always loved your long hair,” he muses. “Does Carter like it too?”
I push his hand away and sink further back into my chair. “Just because you make something up in your mind doesn’t mean it’s real, Mac. Carter is nothing to me.” My words hurt coming out, only because I know they aren’t true, and I’m not sure who I’m lying to at this point: Mac or myself.
“It’s not in my head. So, tell me…” He trails off and looks around his office before snapping his eyes back to mine. “Do you enjoy fucking my son?”
I shake my head with a laugh. “You know what? Believe whatever you want, but I’m not going to sit here and be grilled when my answer won’t change. Carter. Is. Nothing. To. Me.”
I stand and turn my back to him. Bad idea.
Before I can make it out of arm’s reach, he grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks me back. “You’re still in debt to me, Lydia, so I’d tread lightly.”
I want to scream at the pain in my scalp. It’s like a thousand tiny needles poking me at once. “Fuck you.” I spit the only reply I can muster through the pain.
“Not today, baby, but maybe tomorrow.” He leans close to my cheek and licks the side of my face, then pushes me forward, releasing my hair.
I make sure to wipe his saliva from my face and look at him in complete disgust before walking out of his office and slamming the door. When I move my eyes from the ground and look to my left, I see him. A sense of relief washes over me at the thought of holding him and venting about what just happened, but it has to wait. We were dumb to think doing shit at home was a good idea, but doing shit in front of Mac’s office? That’s just insane.
I dip my head in a nod, trying to tell him I’m fine and everything went as well as it could. I guess he understood because he returned the gesture, then disappeared into the elevator.
Once he’s out of sight, I slip my phone from my pocket and dial Carmen’s number. After one ring, her voice flows through the speaker. “Lydia, you okay? I was just reading your message.”
I shake my head, knowing she can’t see me. “Can you pick me up?” I can hear her moving around, but before she can spout another question, I say the three words I know will light her ass on fire and get her here. “911, Carmen. Just hurry up.”
“I’m on my way.” Click.
Carmen drives like a bat out of hell and scares me shitless, but I’ve never been happier to be in her car than I am right now. Knowing I’m away from Malcolm and heading somewhere I know he won’t be makes me feel at complete ease. But it doesn’t last long when I remember I have to ask Carmen for help. More specifically, ask her to have someone plant some really incriminating shit on Malcolm’s computer.
When we pull into her drive, she kills the engine and starts to exit the Bentley, but I catch her by the wrist and pull her back down. “Can we talk in here, please? I don’t want William or any of your dad’s cameras hearing this conversation.”
“Girl, you know I found all the bugs in my room not even a week after he installed them. And William won’t be a problem. He’s the best at keeping secrets.” She winks, but it does nothing to make me feel better.
She settles back into her seat and starts the car again so the AC will keep us cool. “Fine. If it makes you feel better, we can talk here.”
I reach over the console again but this time to squeeze her hand. “I need something from you,” I start.
“Anything.”
She’s so enthusiastic, and I’m scared that will change when I tell her what my something entails, but I nod and continue. “We’re going to need Bradley’s help too.”
She cocks her head to the side with confusion. “Bradley? For what?”
“I need him to plant some shit on Malcolm’s computer. Like, some dark web, get-you-life-in prison type shit.”
Her eyes grow the same way they did yesterday. “Whoa, Lydia. What have you gotten yourself into?”
At this point, I know she knows I haven’t told her the whole truth, and I feel I owe it to her if I’m asking her to put her neck on the line for some fucked-up shit like this. “I think I love him, Carmen I mean maybe. I don’t know,” I admit to her before I can even admit it to myself.
“Love, what? And you’re wanting to put shit on his computer to get him thrown away forever?”
If it wasn’t such a serious situation, maybe I would laugh, but I don’t. Instead, I clarify what I mean. “No, not Malcolm. Carter.”
I let the words hang in the air between us. For a moment, I almost take them back, but when she opens her mouth to speak, they disappear, and I know I’ll never be able to take them back. “I don’t understand, so I’m going to need you to put this in dumb bitch terms, capeesh?”
“I need to get out of this shit with Malcolm, you know that.” She nods. “But I’m not the only one knee-deep in shit with him.” I go silent again, thinking of the best way to word everything.
“Okay… Are you going to explain or make me keep asking questions?”
I hold up my hand. “Sorry. Carter. I mean Carter. It isn’t my story to tell, so don’t ever breathe a word of this to anyone else, okay?”
“Are we really going to have this conversation again? You know you can trust me.”
And she’s right, I can, so I continue. “Malcolm hits him. No—” I shake my head. “He beats him.”
Carmen’s brows furrow together with concern as she hangs on to my words. “Is that why he always looked so rough in middle school?”
Thinking back, Carter was always sporting a new bruise, or cut, or split lip, but no one ever questioned it. He’s always been a badass with a badass temper and attitude, so it only made sense he looked that way. But now it all makes perfect sense.
I nod. “He blames his mom’s suicide on him too.”
Carmen shakes her head lightly like she can’t believe what she’s hearing. “Fucking prick,” she mumbles.
“I know. And the only way Carter can get away is if Malcolm is gone for good. I know it’s a lot to ask, but you know I wouldn’t ask unless I felt it was necessary.”
“No, I know, and I get it. I’ll do it.”
Now it’s my turn to look surprised. “You will?”
She lets out a sad laugh. “He’s not the only one who has a shitty dad, okay? I’ll do this for him, but you have to tell him he owes me.”
I nod, then stretch over the console and hug her neck. “I fucking love you.” The tears start before I have a chance to even feel them coming.
“And I love you. Now let’s go see Brad.” She throws her car into drive and speeds out of her driveway.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
LYDIA
When I make it home after Carmen and I went to see Bradley, it’s dark outside. No lights shine through the windows of my house, and I’m not sure if that makes me feel relieved or scared. Everyone knows all the scary shit goes bump in the night, and Malcolm won’t be an expectation.
I c
reep inside slowly, making sure the door latches closed as quietly as it can. I tiptoe up the stairs, then go straight to my room. I don’t bother going to Carter’s room from the hall—too risky. Instead, I walk straight to my bathroom door when I clear my bedroom threshold and slip into his room. He isn’t asleep like I assumed he would be. He’s up, freshly showered and dressed, and sitting on the edge of his bed.
“Hey.”
When he hears my voice, he turns his head to meet my stare. “You ready?”
“Ready for what?”
“Pleasers.”
He says the name like I know what it means. “Pleasers?”
He nods slowly. “The place where I can get dirt on Malcolm. Since he isn’t home and not at the country club, there is nowhere else he can be. Not at this hour.”
“Oh.” I look down to my body. I’m still in my shorts and polo from work. “Let me change.”
“I’ll help. You need to look sexy.” He stands from his bed and walks past me, through the bathroom, and into my closet like he’s on a mission.
My confidence falters as I follow him. Him saying I need to be sexy makes me think he’s never seen me as sexy before. Like I’m some everyday plain Jane.
“This.” He holds up the exact red dress I wore when I seduced Mac for the first time. “I remember seeing you in this sophomore you, and I swear I had to hide a semi all night.”
His confession makes me smile, but then the thought of shimmying back into that fabric makes me squirm. “I can’t wear that.”
He lowers the dress so he can see my face. “Why?”
I shake my head. Please don’t make me say it.
“You fuck him in this?” I guess he connects the dots I’m giving him from my face.
I don’t want to answer him. I don’t want to hurt him. We’re finally to a point where things seem okay, as okay as they can be anyway, and I don’t want to ruin that.
But I guess my silence is answer enough because in one swift motion, he grabs either side of the dress and rips it in two from the seam. “You’ll never wear it again, then.” He throws the ruined garment at my feet and disappears back into my closet. “Anything in here you haven’t worn to fuck him?”
His words sting and make my chest ache way down deep. It’s not like I knew Carter liked me, or that I would end up liking him, so why is he so fucking angry with me? All the shit with Mac was in motion before he even dared muttered his feelings to me.
“What’s your deal, Carter? Why is everything okay one second and then the next, it isn’t?” I ask, ignoring his question.
He emerges and stomps in front of me. “It’s never been okay. The fact he had you before me makes me sick. It makes me see red and nothing else, and I have to act like it doesn’t bother me around him. You know how hard it is to hide something like that?”
“Actually, I do.” I push past him and snag a basic black cocktail dress from its hanger.
“Lydia.” His voice sounds apologetic, but I ignore him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“No.” I hold up my hand. “You meant exactly what you said, and I don’t care. Let’s just get this over with.” He lets out a huff with a nod, then turns around as I dress and let my hair down.
As it tumbles around my shoulders, I’m reminded of Mac’s words from earlier that day. I look around my room but can’t spot what I’m looking for. I ignore Carter’s confusion-painted face and walk to his room. Right on his bookshelf, my old bookshelf, next to a clear crystal paperweight, is exactly what I’ve been hunting for.
I grab the scissors and step back into the bathroom. I gather all my long blonde locks into one hand with a deep breath, then use the other hand to cut through every last strand as I release the same breath. I chop with zero care until my hair rests a good inch or more above my shoulders. Instead of my hair bearing a resemblance to Heidi Klum like it used to, it now looks more like a do on Marylin Monroe, and it makes me feel sexy. The kind of sexy Carter definitely didn’t make me feel a minute ago.
I run my fingers through it and fluff it before swiping on some red lipstick from inside the drawer. “Let’s go,” I bark as Carter stares at me, amazed.
He hurries behind me as I start down the stairs. “Why’d you do that? I mean, it looks great, but I don’t understand.”
Not worried about hurting his feelings anymore since he clearly doesn’t care about mine, I tell him the truth. “Your dad liked my long hair.” That shuts him up.
I smile as we make it outside and slip into his car. Two can play this game, Carter.
I’m not sure what I was expecting a place called Pleasers to look like, but what I’m staring at isn’t it, that’s for sure.
There is no indication of what’s inside or even its name outside the run-down-looking building. It’s tucked into the back of Bexley Falls, hidden from the public, with other industrial brick structures. It doesn’t surprise me because no one in Bexley would want to look at such an eyesore. Everyone here is too good for that. All they want to see is white picket fences, manicured lawns with extravagant bush sculptures, or marble fountains.
As Carter shifts into park, I glance at him but make sure not to stare too long. I’m still upset with how he was acting. I mean, I get it, I guess. Because if it were me, I’d probably feel a little hurt too, but I wouldn’t let that push to hurting someone I cared about.
“You ready, Bunny?” he asks.
I keep my eyes pointed outside as I open the door. “As ready as I can be.”
I wait for him to round the car before I force my feet to travel to the entrance. Some clubs let you in at eighteen, but most are twenty-one, something I didn’t bother to think about till now.
“How are we supposed to get in?” I ask when we’re a few feet away from the door.
“Just let me handle it.” I nod in response and let him take the lead.
He walks with such confidence it’s hard to believe he doesn’t belong. I’m convinced he’s a regular just by his powerful swagger alone, but unfortunately, the bouncer doesn’t see it how I do. He shoves his chubby fingers into Carter’s chest before he can reach for the handle of the door.
“Can I help you?”
Carter chuckles—he fucking chuckles—before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a stack of cash. The same cash I’m almost positive came from his stash under his mattress. “How much to get me and my lady in? One grand? Two? What about three?” He flips bill after bill at the man.
It isn’t until the stack of cash in his hands hits about four grand that he rolls it up, sticks it into his breast pocket, then steps aside.
“Did you know that would work?” I question, the smell of jasmine hitting me in the face as we breach the inside.
“Nope. But I had a good feeling. Everyone in this town speaks the same language. Money.” He rubs his thumb across his other fingers with a smile, then drops it and reaches into his pocket. “Take this, and don’t let anyone see it.”
I grab whatever he’s handing me, then raise it enough to see it but still be shielded by Carter’s body in front of me.
“Every picture or video you take with that will automatically sync to my cloud and be safe. So even if we are caught and they take them, we still get the evidence.”
I nod and slip the old iPhone into my other hand. “Where do you think he is?”
“Not sure, but he can’t be too hard to find.”
I want to agree with him, but the place is pretty open. There is a bar on one wall, a sitting area on the other, with nothing but empty space between the two. Bouncers are scattered across the entire club, with two standing in front of the only thing that seems out of place: two silver double doors in the center of the back wall.
“We should check in there.” I point over his shoulder to the sketchy-looking dudes.
He doesn’t reply. He just walks right up to where they stand and pushes the door open.
At first, I wasn’t thinking this was much of a club at all. There is no
music pouring through speakers, nobody dancing, nothing. But once you step to the other side, I see why they call it a club. The layout is the same. Bar on one wall, sitting space on the other, but what makes it different is the crowd. People fill the leather couches as others perch themselves on barstools. Some look like normal joes, while others look like latex is their kink.
Instead of a single set of double doors on the back wall like the area in the front, six doors line this one. Each door identical. Metal. Cold. Intimidating. But another difference is the tiny window adorned on each.
“You take the right; I’ll take the left. We’ll meet in the middle,” Carter whispers.
I nod and head for my side, trying to look as discreet as possible. I snag a stray drink from the bar just so my hands look busy and I look less suspicious. I make it to the last door on the right, then linger on the wall for a second before peeking inside. Empty.
I move to the second. Three men and one woman occupy this space, each naked and feeling one another’s bodies. It would be cool to watch if we weren’t here for a reason—you know, like live porn or something—so I keep myself moving along.
When I hit the third door, I forget the drink in my hand wasn’t mine at all and take a sip. Sweet alcohol hits my tongue, and I smile, but then the bitter aftertaste comes, and I shiver. Swallowing some of my own spit, I try and wash the taste away as I look at the last door on my side.
Bingo!
When I make it to the last door, there is just enough light in the room to see a man with Mac’s build standing in front of a woman strapped to an X contraption. Her hands are tied to the top points and her ankles to the bottom ones. It’s erotic and sends tingles straight to my center.
He stalks around her with something in his hand before he moves quickly and strikes her chest with it. A whip. One with numerous ends, to be exact. I wince for her, knowing that hurt, but her legs go weak as she moans. She likes it.
I shake my head and raise the old iPhone as he turns, and just as I suspected, it’s Malcolm. I make sure the flash is off and snap a few pictures of the scene playing out in front of me as Carter lingers to the side. I’m sure this isn’t something he wants to see. I don’t even want to see it, but it needs to be done.
