Lock & Key Collection

by Rebel Rose

  “I was wrong for doing it, and you’ll never know how sorry I am for breaking your trust in me.”

  A month—four whole weeks—that he’s known. And he said nothing. Not a fucking word. “You were wrong, and you have broken my trust, but what’s worse is how long it’s taken for you to tell me.”

  “I’ve been afraid, mon bien-aimé. So fucking afraid of losing you.”

  “I don’t know how I go forward with you after this.” Because what do I really have with Tristan if I can’t trust him?

  “Please don’t say that.” He rises to a sitting position and pulls me against him. “This is what I’ve been terrified of—your leaving me.”

  He should be terrified because I’m not sure how I’ll get over this. And where do we go from here if his plan has been successful? “I may be pregnant, Tristan. Pregnant! With a baby!”

  “I don’t want there to be lies between us, mon bien-aimé. And I’d be lying if I told you that I didn’t want that.”

  “I wanted that too but not this way. Not by deception and trickery.”

  I wonder how he’d feel if the situation were reversed. What if I’d been the one to pull out the IUD in an attempt to get pregnant? He’d be furious.

  He wraps his arms around me and presses his forehead to my chest between my bare breasts. “Please tell me that I haven’t ruined everything between us.”

  “I can’t tell you that right now. But I can tell you that I won’t be coming home after Michaela’s party.”

  His hold on me tightens. “No, mon bien-aimé. No. You can’t leave me.”

  I push against him, but his hold remains firm. “I actually can leave; my freedom has been earned.”

  “I wasn’t implying that you couldn’t leave. I just meant that I need you here with me because we can’t work this out if we’re apart.”

  I look down and shake my head. “I’m not in a place right now where I want to hear anything you have to say. I need space, and for once, I need you to respect the boundaries I’m giving you.”

  He’s still holding me tightly, as though he doesn’t plan to let me go.

  “Rouge.”

  The hitch in his breath is unmistakable, and a moment later he releases his hold on me. “How long do you need, mon bien-aimé?”

  “I can’t answer that. I can’t answer anything about the present or the future because I don’t know right now.”

  I only know that my heart is shattered.

  Trust is essential. It has the power to make something beautiful or destroy it. And right now, its absence feels like it’s shattering us.

  I’ve been so busy with Michaela’s party today that I haven’t had time to think about Tristan and what he has done to me. But the party is over now, and he’s all that I can think of.

  I’m glad that I was with my family today. I needed to be with people I love and trust, but now I need girl time. And girl talk.

  Avery meets me at her front door with a bottle and two shot glasses. “Fireball okay?”

  I’m still a little nauseous from last night, but I need a stiff drink after the shit Tristan pulled on me. “Fireball is great.”

  “You aren’t driving back to New Orleans tonight?”

  “I’m definitely not going back to New Orleans.”

  Avery makes her oh-shit face. “Uh-oh. That doesn’t sound good.”

  “It’s fucked up is what it is.”

  We go into Avery’s kitchen and she fills both shot glasses, pushing one across the island until it’s in front of me. “What’s going on, girl?”

  “Tristan…” God, I don’t even know what to say about what he’s done. “I’m not sure if it’s because Tristan is a Dom or because he’s always been a rich-as-fuck-spoiled-brat, or if there’s some other reason that I’ve not yet discovered, but he’s very different from other men. When he wants something, he gets it at any cost. It doesn’t matter what it is.”

  “And that’s one of the things that you find so damn sexy about him, right?”

  She isn’t wrong. Although I’ve never told Tristan, I actually liked that he saw me in his casino and wanted me and made it happen without any regard for the consequences. Once I got over my hating him so badly, I thought that what he did was hot as hell. I’ve never felt so desired by a man.

  “I love his determination and persistence, but he’s taken it too far this time.”

  I blink rapidly because the tears forming in my eyes sting.

  “Oh, girl. Don’t cry. Whatever it is, it will be okay.”

  “No man has ever betrayed me this way, Ave.”

  “Has he cheated? Because I will go to his house and kick his ass and hers too if that’s the case.”

  My pal, Avery—always willing to open a can of whup-ass on my behalf.

  “It’s nothing like that. It’s quite the opposite, actually.” I reach for a napkin on the countertop and wipe my eyes and nose. “Tristan and I had a deal.”

  “The one where your debt with him was clear after you pulled the right key?”

  “Yes, but our relationship has been morphing into something else for a while now. It’s become so much more than I ever dreamed it could be.”

  Avery lifts a brow. “You mean something more like his putting a very expensive necklace around your neck?”

  I touch his collar around my neck. “This isn’t an ordinary necklace. He has collared me.”

  “Oh wow. That’s very significant in the Dominant-submissive world, right?”

  “It’s the symbol of a very serious commitment that we have made to one another. And I was so happy about it, Avery. I wanted this. I wanted to be his, but then he went and fucked up everything.”

  I breathe in deeply, gathering the words in my head to explain what happened so that her non-submissive mind might understand.

  “Tristan is a control freak, and he doesn’t deal well with situations where he isn’t in control. And such an occasion happened about a month ago. He got some really fucked-up news about his parents, and he didn’t know how to deal with it.”

  “I hate to break it to you, but most guys aren’t great with losing control or dealing with serious issues,” Avery says.

  “Well, this was especially bad. He found out that his maternal uncle who has raised him since he was a baby is actually his biological father. Which means that his mother’s brother raped her, and Tristan was conceived as a result of the rape.”

  Avery’s eyes widen. “Holy shit. I can see why he wouldn’t deal well with that.”

  “No one would. And I understand his not being able to deal with that. I can only imagine how he must have felt when he found out, but the way he chose to handle it is unacceptable.”

  “Well, come on, Em. Tell me what he did before I die of curiosity.”

  “He is my Dom, and I knew what he needed from me that night. I also knew that he was going to push me beyond the limits we’d already reached. I was prepared to give him any-and everything he needed.”

  Avery is leaning over the kitchen counter, completely engrossed in what I’m about to spill.

  “First, he turned on this song. It was really loud, so loud that it was all I could hear. And I immediately recognized it as ‘The Sound of Silence,’ but it was a rendition that I’ve never heard. It was dark and gloomy… and oddly sexy and erotic at the same time.”

  Avery reaches for her phone. “Hold on. I want to listen to this while you tell the rest of the story.”

  She thumbs her phone’s keyboard. “It’s by Disturbed?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  The song begins to play from her phone, and I’m immediately sucked back into that night. “Fuck yes. That’s it.”

  Avery puts her phone on the counter and leans in again. “Continue.”

  “He tied my arms to the bed.”

  “Uhh, I’ve always wanted a guy to do that to me.” Avery leans closer, her mouth slightly parted. “What happened next?”

  “He cuffed my ankles to a sp
reader bar.”

  A huge smile stretches on her face. “I assume that a spreader bar is what it sounds like?”

  “It’s exactly what it sounds like. You can’t close your legs.”

  Avery grins bigger. “Holy… shit. Okay. Keep going.”

  “He applied nipple clamps next. And those fuckers were tight.”

  “Nipple clamps? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  I laugh inside because I can easily imagine what I would have thought about nipple clamps in my pre-Tristan days.

  “No joke, Ave. And then the blindfold came.”

  Avery closes her eyes and holds up her hand. “Hold on. Give me a second to absorb all of this.”

  She sits there for a moment listening to the song and then puts her hand down. “Okay. Tell me all about that man’s devil-penis magic.”

  “He’s a Dom… and a sadist.” I’ve never told her about the sadist part. “I expected him to inflict pain and push me harder than ever before, but that’s not what happened. He was gentle and loving, and what we shared that night was like nothing that we’d ever experienced together. It was magical and I loved it.”

  Avery’s face tenses. “It sounds like a great night. I don’t understand the problem.”

  “Tristan told me he realized that night how desperately he wanted to stop me from leaving him. And he made a decision about how he was going to ensure that I didn’t.” Forming the words to tell Avery is more difficult than I thought it would be. “While I was tied up and blindfolded…” I point to her phone. “…With that song blaring, Tristan put his hand inside of me and grabbed the string on my IUD… and he pulled it out.”

  Her eyes narrow and her head tilts to the side while her mouth forms a wide O. “He pulled out the only thing preventing you from getting pregnant?”

  “Yes… a month ago. And he just told me this morning.”

  “Oh fuck.” I see the realization form on her face when her eyes nearly bug out of her head. “Oh… fuck. You could be pregnant. Have you taken a test?”

  I thought about it on the drive to Biloxi, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop and buy one. “No. I’m too fucking scared to.”

  “You have to take a test.” Avery walks out of the kitchen, moving toward the front door. “Come on, Em. We’re going to the store.”

  I can’t move. My feet feel like they’re bolted to the floor. “I don’t think it’ll do any good. I had a period right after he took it out and it’s not time for my next one yet.”

  “What’s it going to hurt to take a test?”

  “I just don’t see the need in doing it if it’s too early for it to be accurate. I’m not in a place where I can afford for my emotions to be jerked around with a false result.”

  “I guess you’re right. Getting inaccurate results would make this even worse.” She shrugs. “Sorry. I just got a little carried away, I guess.”

  “Ave, what am I going to do if I’m pregnant by him?”

  She sucks in a deep breath and blows it out through compressed lips. “Well, I know that you’re really pissed off at him right now, and you have every right to be, but you love this guy. To me, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to have a baby with a man you love and adore.”

  “It’s really hard to remember how much I love him while I’m so pissed off at him.”

  “Well, that’s definitely understandable.”

  I think Avery could be getting caught up in the romance part of the story—the whole have-a-baby-and-live-happily-ever-after thing—while forgetting about the betrayal part. “He swore to me that he’d never make a life-altering decision without my input, and he’s gone and done it again. He lied to me.”

  “By your own account, Tristan is a control freak who doesn’t stop until he gets what he wants. And he wants you. Are you really that surprised that he would do something like this?”

  She does make a good point except for one little detail. “Actually, I am shocked. He was determined to prevent a baby. I mean, look at the extreme measure he took so I wouldn’t get pregnant. I never fathomed that he would remove the IUD without telling me.”

  “From what you’ve told me, everything Tristan does is extreme.”

  “That ain’t no lie.”

  “Well, it sounds to me like you have to decide if what he has done is enough to end your relationship.”

  I don’t want to live without him. “The thought of not being with Tristan wrecks me, but I’m not a woman who will allow a man to manipulate me.”

  “Definitely not. So what’s it gonna be?”

  Staying with Tristan feels like giving in to a weakness. And I’m not weak. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  How can I stay with a man who would lie to and manipulate me?

  But how can I walk away from the only man that I’ve ever loved?

  I don’t know.

  37

  Tristan Broussard

  Emma Lia is gone. She has left me.

  My biggest fear has come to pass, but what hurts the most is that it was entirely preventable. I did this. Me. My ruthless, selfish act is what has driven her away. I am my own worst fucking enemy.

  She left our house, driving toward Biloxi, and so did I. I understand that she doesn’t want to see or hear from me, and I’m going to respect her wishes, but I can’t bear the distance. I need to at least be near her even if we aren’t together.

  Being in the same town, but apart, is brutal. I want to go to her so fucking badly. I would crawl on my hands and knees, begging for her forgiveness if that was what she wanted. But I know it’s not. My girl needs space and time to think about this dreadful, selfish thing I’ve done to her.

  I told her in the beginning that I would violate her a hundred different ways before she walked away from this. Even I had no idea that I would be this ruthless.

  The hotel kitchen staff brought dinner for two tonight with all of Emma Lia’s favorites. I understand the mistake; she’s been with me every time for the last several months whenever I have stayed overnight. But that didn’t stop my outburst at the staff member who delivered the food.

  There’s no fucking way I can eat. So tonight, my dinner will consist of whiskey. Lots of whiskey.

  I lean back in my chair and stare out the window at the gulf. I recall all of the times that I’ve fucked Emma Lia against that window. I enjoyed it physically at the time, but I didn’t truly appreciate it the way that I should have. But I swear to God that if by some miracle she comes back to me, I will appreciate everything about her. Every. Little. Thing. Even her snoring and her habit of stealing the covers.

  I take out my laptop and try to work on the Vegas project, but it’s useless. I can’t concentrate and fuck, I’m not motivated. It’s impossible to care about making money when the only thing I truly love has walked out the door.

  I take out my phone and flip through the pictures I have of Emma Lia on my phone. Some are selfies I took of us together, but my favorites are the ones of her alone—some with clothing, some without. A few are downright pornographic-looking. Nude or not, I love them all equally, but I think my favorite is one of her reading in the garden. I snuck that one while she was so engrossed by The Thorn Birds that she didn’t hear me come out of the house. She was just sitting there in a tank top, shorts, no makeup, and sunglasses being her naturally beautiful self.

  One whiskey. Two. Twelve. I drink glass after glass in an attempt to numb the ache in my heart. And enough that when I lie down and close my eyes tonight, I won’t see the pain in Emma Lia’s eyes when I confessed my sin to her.

  My beautiful girl. The only girl in the world that I’ve ever bent for.

  I may have lost her forever.

  38

  Emma Lia Grant

  My favorite Within Temptation song, the one called “Forgiven,” comes on as Adam shuffles the deck of cards. It’s a dark and melancholy song, much like my mood.

  “This song sucks.”

  “Shut up, ass monkey.”
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  Tristan and I have been apart for a week, but it feels like a lifetime. I can’t believe how much I miss him. I can’t believe how much I miss his dominance. I’m not talking about the sex, although I do miss that. I’m talking about his guidance and instructions and control. Pleasing him pleases me. And nothing about being here without him makes me happy.

  Adam slams the deck on the table. “Again. And do try to stop wasting my time and concentrate on what you’re doing.”

  My card-counting skills are out of practice after being away from the tables for months while living with Tristan. I need to polish my craft before hitting the casino tonight.

  I push the thoughts of Tristan from my mind and watch the cards carefully. It’s taken days of practice to even get back to this point. Who knew I could lose my skills so quickly?

  “What is tonight’s goal?”

  “Ten.”

  “Ten thousand? That’s all?” I could win that in no time.

  “I’m more careful since Broussard caught us; my daughter can’t afford for her dad to be sitting in jail.”

  Michaela has a severe seizure disorder. Her condition is brittle and often uncontrolled. Just when one medication seems to be working, it suddenly stops and the whole regimen must be restarted with a different kind of medication. She has seen countless doctors and no one has an explanation for why her condition can’t be controlled.

  Adam is a good father. He’s always looking out for his daughter’s future, constantly putting money into savings for her to live on in the event of every what if in life. What if she doesn’t grow out of her condition? What if she is never able to hold a job? What if she somehow loses her health insurance?

  And then there’s my what if: what if I’m pregnant?

  “Are you going to tell me about it?” Adam asks.

  “Tell you about what?”

  “Your fight with Broussard.”

  “I never said that we had a fight.”

  Adam doesn’t miss a beat as he deals. “You didn’t have to say it. I can tell.”

  “Fine. We had a fight, and it’s a big one, but I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “I can’t believe that I’m about to say this, but he treats you better than any of the fuckers you dated before him.” Adam shrugs. “I like him.”