Chapter 18
Zorie
Sandra was at a table when I arrived at The Blessed Cup, a briefcase propped by her chair, her auburn hair perfectly held in a bun, and her red designer glasses a bold fashion statement over her eyes.
“Where have you been, Zorie?” She scraped back her chair and half-climbed to her feet to give me a quick hug. “Let’s get you something sweet and fattening. All that swimming is making you look positively too fit.” She squeezed my biceps. “God, muscles! I’ll order a whole selection of goodies, STAT. Latte?”
Then she raised one eyebrow and smirked gleefully.
“Latte.” It was impossible not to feel some joy around Sandra. She was a welcome dose of happiness. “What have you been up to?”
She shrugged, making her ivory blouse bunch at the shoulders. “This. That. Redecorating the house in the expectation of attracting a male of the species.” She peered over the top of her spectacles and winked. “No luck so far. You?”
“Uhhh.” Downer. My stomach lurched, everything lurched. Oh yes, I’d only been off being fucked by several “males of the species.” The bad ones Sandra would find as her clients, if she were still practicing criminal law.
Now was the time to use my new-found resistance and edge out some clues.
Tell her.
“I had ... I –”
“Spit.” Sandra leaned in, eyes bright.
As before, my tongue and brain jammed. I couldn’t say a thing. Grimm? Couldn’t say we were together either. In case one of us...murdered.
Oh what a tangled web we weave.
I pulled over my glass of icy water and picked up the napkin, then pretended to be fascinated by something across the other side of the bustling café.
“Zorie? Are you hiding some hunk from me? You had a date with Grimm. The gossip has been going around. Tell!”
That Sandra knew already freed me somewhat.
“Sorry? Grimm Heller? No luck there. I know you drool on him every time you see him at the library, but it fell through.” I wrinkled my nose.
For a heartbeat, I thought Sandra might push. Luckily, she only subsided in her chair and tsked.
Well then, scratch that so-called improved resistance. It didn’t mean I couldn’t shoot him. That was a whole other ball game.
The latte arrived, along with a platter full of tiny delicacies – mini cheesecakes and other desserts, before Cherie came to our table.
A lean, dark-haired young man was at her shoulder, a man with a backpack, a serious demeanor, and deep amusement lines around his mouth, despite his age. A smile edged onto his lips whenever he looked at Cherie.
“Hello, Cherie. You wanted to talk to me?”
In her faded, body-hugging jeans and sweet, manga-themed T-shirt, Cherie almost looked too young for a boyfriend.
“Yes, I did. This is Jacob.” She indicated the man behind her and he said hi. “He’s finishing a medical degree this year, but...” She glanced at him again and grinned. “We’ve both decided to defer for a year and go overseas with Medecine Sans Frontieres.”
“Oh.” My eyebrows had risen high. Volunteering for a charity overseas was something I could easily imagine Cherie doing, but Doctors Without Frontiers... “Don’t they go to war zones?”
“Not always, Miss Brown,” Jacob cut in, politely. “I wouldn’t take Cherie anywhere like that anyway. We’ll be going to London soon, to see my parents first. Then leaving from there for, we think at the moment, Thailand.”
“But neither of you are doctors.” I cocked my head.
“We’ll be doing other assistant work.”
“Ahh. I see.”
Was marriage on their horizon? I dearly hoped so. From my brief assessment, he seemed a lovely man and suited to Cherie. For some silly reason, his British accent only made him seem more of a catch.
“I hope you both stay safe and I’m sure the people there will appreciate your sacrifice.” A little stiff, that speech. I added, nodding slightly, “I really do wish you well. The world can do with more people like you.”
“Yes.” Cherie took his hand. “The thing is, this is quite late and close to university starting. Do you think I’ll be okay deferring?”
So this was the reason for wanting to talk directly.
I thought for a second. “It’s not really up to me to decide, but I don’t see any problems. You may lose some fees but that’s it. I can put in a good word for you commencing again next year. Is that what you need?”
“That would be excellent. Very helpful.” After a second of hesitation, Cherie leaned forward as if to hug and I met her halfway, gave her shoulder a squeeze, and kissed her cheek.
“I’ll be very sorry to not see you this year.” My face set in place as reality slammed in. I would likely be in prison, or dead, or worse.
“I’ll be back. Thank you, miss.”
“My pleasure. Absolutely.” Then I stood, teary-eyed, and gave them both a cursory hug, to their surprise. “Take care of her, Jacob.”
“I will. Now I know why Cherie wanted me to meet you.”
So that was what this was about.
The glow faded as I watched the girl and her boyfriend weave around the tables and leave, his hand around her waist now and then, as if she needed steering around obstructions. Strange how much that affected me. They were beautiful together.
All the signs pointed to bad things in my own future.
How bad I would discover very soon. I sighed and wiped under my eyes with my finger.
The gun was in my handbag, on the floor, beside my foot. If bad things came in threes, did good things? Sandra, Cherie...what next?
“Where were we?” I sat again and turned to the bemused Sandra.
“Stuffing our faces?”
My giggle was forced. Threes. I’d forgotten about Grimm. I had my quota of good.
“You okay, Zorie?”
“Yeah, just feeling a little overwhelmed for some reason.”
“I understand. Seeing them together like that, wonderful, yet you want to hold them still and make them be safe.”
“Yes. Yes, you do.”
On the way home a text came, and again, and again, when I did nothing. After pulling over, I read them.
Drive to my house, now. Same message, three times.
Reuben was waiting for me.
Chapter 19
Zorie
Nearly midday and cars were parked up and down the street near Reuben’s stonework-and-white, modern two-and-a-bit-story mansion. As I left the car and shut the door behind me, people waved from the rooftop, with flutes of wine in hand. Laughter filtered down.
How many people were here?
The thought of anyone else seeing my degradation was horrifying. Except, I wasn’t letting that happen, was I?
The heaviness of my handbag spoke volumes as I neared the front door.
Dirke opened it and stripped me with his eyes, as per usual. “Into the study, to the right. Remember it?”
I swallowed. “Yes.”
“Take off all your clothes and put on what’s there, then go up to Reuben. Top story, above the birdcage.”
At my hesitation he grinned. “Don’t worry. Someone else has that privilege today. You can watch her.” I turned and had taken two steps when he added, “Put your hair in pigtails! Orders!”
His laugh followed me down the hallway. The study was empty and I closed the door with my palm, quietly, leaning against it as I checked out what lay over the chair and on the long glass desk. The outfit was skimpy, as I’d thought it might be – a leather harness, a leather collar with blunt chromed spikes. When I padded over for a closer inspection, I found a dog tag that said slut attached to the collar. Plus there was a see-through, pink, baby-doll dress.
A foot-square mirror propped on the desk let me see my apprehensive expression.
Take off all my clothes. That would mean my underwear as well as my skirt and top.
“Damn.” I toed off my shoes and eyed it a
ll again, nibbling my lip. Did the dress go on over the harness? It must.
If I didn’t wear this, I’d never get near him without Dirke spotting me coming out of the study in the wrong clothes. From past experience I knew he had permission from Reuben to chastise me.
I donned the collar then the leather harness, with some difficulty, doing up buckles and cinching things so they fitted. How quaint to be preparing myself for defilement. The collar went round my neck and the harness connected to it by clips at the side of the collar. A mirror helped me figure everything out. Straps circled my waist and my breasts. Two thin straps delved from the waist between my thighs and up again to the back of the waist strap. Silver rings, here and there, would allow for me to be attached to other things.
The baby doll dress, when slipped over the top, barely concealed anything. All the leather was visible as well as the strip of hair on my mound and the dark circles of my areolae.
A swirl of lust washed across me, so unexpected I staggered, and making me instantly wet and my nipples jut out. I closed my eyes, shivering. Reuben had detected me. His use of will was as subtle as a slap in the face compared to Mister Black. I prayed Reuben wasn’t as perceptive as the other man.
There was no way to conceal the gun, unless I took my handbag. If Dirke thought to take it from me he would surely notice the weight. If that happened I was done for.
Courage. I removed the shoulder strap to make the bag less conspicuous and clutched the top of the bag. If I kept it at my side and my arm long, it would look casual. I needed to get close. The man might be drunk already, or something.
“Let’s go,” I whispered to the mirror.
My journey seemed so obvious, and the weapon in the bag so like a snake in my hand, that I waited for discovery all the way as I marched along the hall to the spiral stairs. Up I walked, passing men and women, most of them blatant in their appreciation of my see-through clothes. Laughs, murmured sexual insults, and growls followed me. Two men cornered me in an angle of the stairs just to smirk and lift the baby-doll dress high enough to show my pussy.
“Hey,” I spat. “I’m Reuben’s.”
“We know, slut.” He flicked my dog tag but backed away. The skirt of the dress floated down again. “Off you go. We’ll come watch, later, while he has you fucked.”
Their dark glowers were on me as I turned and began to climb the stairs again.
“Nice fucking ass,” one of them murmured. “All the better to fit two cocks at once.”
“Or three.”
Their laughter made my grip the handbag tighter.
Everyone was in on this. Where did he get these people? None of them were mesmers, I was sure. Being Reuben’s slut for en-masse fucking was not happening today.
If I pulled out a gun, they’d be witnesses though? If I failed and he did something to me, a court of law wouldn’t look kindly on his actions either.
What was I thinking? I was going to shoot him, no, I’d kill him. Fuck the consequences.
Each step I took, as I rose to the level of the roof, summoned ominous, stomach-clenching moments. Through the open, Mediterranean-blue doors I could see his back. He leaned on the edge of the breast-height wall, looking down at whatever festivities were going on in his birdcage garden. Someone getting gangbanged, I guessed from the hoots of guests also looking down, but from the opposite side of the house. To the left a little bridge spanned from this rooftop to theirs. A profusion of small trees and large-leafed plants in pots broke up the lines of the white building.
I took it all in as I stepped onto the paved roof. Shady gazebo to the right, chairs for lounging in, chairs for sitting, a cane-framed blue lounge, and a long, low table with wine bottles and trays of snacks. Men? Only Madoc, over near the footbridge and a truck-sized, hulk of a man standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Reuben. No one looked my way. I set my face, slipped my hand under the cool leather flap, and seated my fingers and thumb around the butt, with my forefinger nestled on the trigger.
If I blew off my foot, so be it. The decocker on the Beretta was off. I only needed to aim, and squeeze, and put all ten shots into Reuben’s back.
The breeze whisped my dress about my thighs and curled between my legs, cooled the light sweat on my brow.
My ears heard nothing but the shush of wind and laughter.
Don’t get close. You know...
I knew.
Feet apart, I began to draw the gun from my bag. When the gun was halfway emerged, his will smacked into me.
I rocked in place.
In that instant I recognized the bleak pall of failure but also that the man beside Reuben was a mesmer. A strong one.
“You have a problem?” the stranger drawled in a posh British accent that reminded me, poignantly, of Cherie’s boyfriend, Jacob. He didn’t bother to look away from the courtyard spectacle.
“No.” Slowly Reuben turned, locked eyes with me then leaned back and put his elbows and forearms on the stone top behind him.
He looked at ease, while I was desperately frozen and awaiting Armageddon. My heart belatedly began to race, as if trying to catch up with something I’d lost. Myself...
“No. I have this one in hand.”
“Good.”
“Yes.” Reuben smiled. “This was going to be our day of celebration, Zorie. Don’t you know we’re getting married soon? This is our engagement party, and here you are being naughty.”
Chapter 20
Zorie
Married? What? He couldn’t do that to me.
Instead of discarding me, he was going to bind me even closer to him?
No!
The more I strived to resist, the more rigid my body became. Side step.
I expected him to get me to put down the gun but he only whistled and beckoned Madoc over. His footsteps grew louder and halted somewhere behind and to my left.
Side step. It was too late. Why bother. Nevertheless, weeping silently, I thought of how pretty the sky was, of cartoons, of the dragonfly that hovered beside me.
My forefinger ached.
My muscles refused to obey. Perhaps because lifting out a gun, aiming, and pulling a trigger was a complex operation. Perhaps, simply because he had me, he had me calibrated somehow, down to my last molecule. And I was way too close.
Giving in was not an option. I struggled, twisting my thoughts every which way, until my eyeballs seemed ready to pop. Do it. Resist. He must not win.
But then my resistance stretched and stretched and ... something snapped inside of me. It left no barrier, at all, between me and him.
“Stay there, while I think. Put the safety on.” With my thumb, I fumbled for the decocker then shifted it over to the safe positon.
Second by second, the blue eyes of Reuben began to dissect me, breaking me down into little pieces.
The gun seemed there, in my hand, and yet far away. After a minute, two, the metal numbed my fingers. I gasped, and every breath afterward had to be strained in and out through lungs that barely wanted to expand. I’d had asthma and this was as agonizing.
If he wanted to marry me, he wouldn’t do anything terrible, would he? He couldn’t stop me breathing?
The pieces of me seemed to float slowly, ever further apart, until I wasn’t certain if my brain knew the way to my arms or my legs. Soon I’d forget how to talk, how to walk, how to think.
Everything ground down. To a halt.
Black specks rained before my eyes and my head expanded. I swayed, knees weakening.
A touch on my chin had me jerking my head up. “Don’t faint. Remember to breathe, dear girl.” It was Reuben, and he was close enough to kiss my ear, softly, and whisper into it, “How can we all enjoy this if you’re not feeling it and knowing what’s happening?”
My mind cleared and I could think again.
I could hear the footfalls of many people coming nearer, from the direction of the footbridge.
Reuben backed away, his small, evil smile taunting me.
“Show
off that fake gun, Zorie.”
Fake? He wanted people to think it a fake?
While I was semiconscious, the bag must have slid off the gun and to the floor, because my handbag lay at my feet. The pistol was by my side, dangling from my hand. I held up, letting the sunlight caress the gun metal. I was a robot, again.
Not all of the party-goers had arrived. There were some still over on the other rooftop, but four men and a woman were here, as well as Madoc, Reuben, and the stranger who was fascinated by the lower cage activities. Two of the men were those who’d passed me on the stairs. All of them wore wolf-like expressions, as well as expensive, carefully selected clothes, cologne, and hair styles – wealthy people with cushy lives, no doubt. Yet here they were, waiting to see what nasty games Reuben would do to me. If they’d grown long, canine teeth I’d not have been shocked.
“Lift up your dress, and show them your pussy, pretty wife to be.”
I shut my eyes, but did what he asked me to, with my left hand, grabbing a fistful of the cloth and lifting it to my waist. When instructed, I took a few steps toward the gazebo and chairs then turned so they could see me better.
Only one woman had come to watch the entertainment. She was with her man, whose waist she clutched. Though her glee was more obvious, I didn’t doubt the men were anticipating something juicy and erotic also.
Reuben couldn’t just marry me without notice. Was he planning some orgy where he did a mock ceremony? Then I realized how twisted my life had become. I’d rather be fucked in public than that he truly marry me. A mock ceremony left me hope of freedom, one day.
“My Zorie has a taste for exhibitionism. She’s going to put on a show. Madoc.” He tossed some metal chain to the man. “Chain her to the lounge then get her to sit on your lap while she shoves that cannon up herself and pulls the trigger a few times.”
The safety was on. Nothing will happen.
The glitter in his eyes was terrible.
He just wanted to make me wonder how far he might go.
Wicked Ways (Dark Hearts Book 1) Page 10
