by Roxy Harte
There is no suitable in this situation. I am Kitten, Goddammit. Kitten. Not mommy material.
Defeated, I follow Master inside and discard clothing as I walk. I am shedding the layers that define me as Celia Brentwood. Jacket. Blouse. Skirt. Shoes. I leave a littered trail not caring which server has to pick up after me. By the time I drop to my knees, I am Kitten. Sex pet extraordinaire. Owned. Collared. And for a little while I do not have to think about anything.
“Do not seek the because—in love there is no because, no reason, no explanation, no solutions.”
Anais Nin
Chapter 16
Garrett
The day’s special arrives, crab cakes with a succulent orange and brandy sauce, fried green tomatoes, and salade du jour. It is Kitten’s favorite, and I am quite surprised when she shakes her head the moment it is delivered.
“Eat.”
“I told you I’m not hungry.”
Hearing her voice here in The Oasis is unexpected. A single meow, a double meow, but not words, not here. It is one thing for her to violate protocol at home and quite another… Something rips inside of me and I am going back on my promise of no punishment in her immediate future. With all that is available to me, I can think of only one safe-for-her-condition solution. A hand signal brings security tableside. “Isolation Sphere.”
She gasps, meeting my gaze for the first time. It is too late to change the outcome. She can cool her heels until she is willing to obey me.
As she is led to the sphere she doesn’t struggle like she normally would, no hissing or baring teeth, no feline antics at all, and that worries me. Eddie, one of my men, positions her in the center of the sphere, secures her ankles and wrists in cuffs, leaving her spread eagle, arms over her head. She looks defiant as a ball gag is shoved into place. Once she would have cried, but that time seems an eternity ago.
As the sphere rises through the levels of the building, interior sphere lights come on so that all Kitten sees is herself, naked, bound, gagged. As it descends, the interior lights go down so that she can see her audience. For a while she is the main event.
Some slaves abhor isolation, Kitten loves it. For a moment I think I screwed up, in essence rewarding her bad behavior, but then I remember it will only take time.
Four hours later, she hasn’t cracked and I am beginning to question my choice.
“I was told an intervention is required.”
I startle, hearing Thomas’s voice behind me, and give him an evil look over my shoulder. “Great. Now you’re here.”
He watches the ascent of the sphere, his eyes widening when he sees her. The interior lights are on so that she can’t see us, but we can see her. Using the remote, I pause the sphere at our level.
“God, she’s thin.”
“Yes,” I agree.
Stretched out, metal cuffs binding her wrists above her head, her feet pulled wide, her ribs and pelvis bones are painfully visible. It is hard to believe the slight swelling below her belly button is a baby, two babies.
I catch Jackie’s waggling fingers from the other side of the dining room. Astonished, I ask, “Jackie called you?”
He shrugs. “She called George and suggested he call an early end to his vacation if he wanted a job to return to. She made it sound like you couldn’t hold the place together on your own. George sent me to investigate since he feels my presence bedside is less necessary than his.”
Standing, I give Jackie a hateful glance, not letting on that George talked to Thomas. Better she think her call to George and Thomas’s arrival are mere coincidence.
“What did Kitten do?”
“What hasn’t she done?” I don’t have to tell him that I know he forced her to lie to me, his guilt is written all over his face.
He exhales, sounding exhausted. “What can I do?”
I shake my head and walk away, leaving him staring at our shared woman. I don’t go far, only as far as the bar, ordering a Scotch. Eventually, Thomas joins me and convinces me to go back to the table where we have front row seats to the sphere. As he sits, he apologizes. “I’ve screwed up so much.”
“You might say that.” If he expected me to argue, he’s wrong, although I’m not certain if he’s speaking of Eva, his brother, or the lack of commitment he’s shown the ménage of late.
“I could explain it to you the way Doctor Psycho explained it to me.”
Keeping my eyes on Kitten’s bound form, I cross my arms. “This should be good.”
“The dreams I had of Eva were caused by the loss I was feeling following Latisha’s desertion. Because I was unable to chase after my wife and children, my mind caused me to follow another ghost from my past. He’s encouraged me to seek counseling to find some closure for a past I left unexplored and the present, which I am not dealing with.”
“He wants you to make peace with Eva? Isn’t it enough that she’s gone?”
The look Thomas gives me isn’t a happy one. “He wants me to figure out a way to bring my children home because I am so wracked with guilt that I am no longer an influence in their lives.”
I kick myself in the ass for assuming his thoughts were left dwelling on a woman. Of course he is miserable with his children so far away. “Is that even possible?”
“Not without starting a war.”
We sigh heavily and simultaneously. I think he’s speaking metaphorically but after operating on his brother, I realize he might be telling the truth.
“Do you want to speak with Kitten?” I ask.
“No,” he answers sadly. He hasn’t taken his eyes off her the entire time we’ve been talking. “There would be no point. She wants nothing more than for me to return home with you both and I can’t.”
“Your brother?”
“He survived the detox with George’s help. His body is healing well, thanks to you. The good doctor is working on his mind now.”
I nod, hoping without saying so, and not knowing all the details besides, that George will be successful.
“I hope to have a clear idea of his mental state in the next few days. If he is able, I have a safe location arranged. The feelers I have out assure me no one is looking for him in San Francisco.”
“That surprises you.”
He nods. “A miracle.”
“I can’t control her. She doesn’t respect me.”
“Isolation is what she needs most. The sphere. The cat cage. Humiliate her. Control her. Take away all of her personal freedom.”
“Does that include secret meetings you arrange?” I ask icily.
He ignores the question but meets my gaze.
I ask, “For how long?”
“For as long as it takes to make her yours again.”
He gives me pause, leaving me feeling like he isn’t planning to come back. I could have her all to myself again…we could dissolve the ménage. Beneath my long sleeve, my concealed brand flares, itching.
I press the STOP button on the sphere’s remote, locking it in place on this level. The interior lights go out and the door swings open. I know the moment their gazes lock because it feels as if all the oxygen is sucked out of the room. I can’t breathe. Or don’t want to. I have never seen two people so connected. They are One and as much as I could believe Kitten and I are so, I cannot. She loves me, yes, and I love her, but it is not and never will be the bond shared between the two of them.
“You’re a bastard, Garrett.”
“We aren’t a ménage without you. We aren’t a couple either.”
He pushes away from the table and goes to her. It’s like looking at a horrific accident on the freeway where you know someone has died. I don’t want to watch, but I can’t look away. He steps into the sphere and closes the door behind him. He starts the globe’s ascent, taking them out of view as he cups her face in his hands and kisses her. I guess I won’t be watching after all. I take the earbud out of my ear that has allowed me to hear the softest sound the entire time she has been inside. This is a private mo
ment and one I will honor.
Just out of sight, the sphere stops moving. They are on the same level as The Attic, home to private rooms for play. Maybe he will take her out, maybe they will stay inside. I don’t know. I don’t care. I only want things right for all of us again. I don’t begrudge her Lord Fyre because I understand. I am, as she is, made whole with him in my life.
“Cozy, cozy, the two of them all snug in the sphere like that. Too bad we weren’t allowed to watch the show.”
I look up to see Jackie’s smug face. She seats herself in the chair Thomas just vacated without asking to join me. Our gazes collide and I manage to say, “Please, join me.” It almost sounds sincere.
She looks astonished. I think she was expecting anger. “I know it’s none of my business what goes on under your roof, but that girl is pregnant now and something has to be done to make the three of you act like you have half a brain between you.”
“I know.”
“That’s it?” she demands.
I look away. “I just don’t feel like arguing, not with you, not with him, not with her. Whatever is going to happen is. There’s nothing I can do to make things right, and there’s nothing I can do to make things any worse than they are.”
“You’re placing blame at his feet?”
“Yes.”
She pats my back. “Well, as I live and breathe. I thought I’d never see the day Mr. Perfect could fall from his pedestal.”
I snort. Thomas is a lot of things but perfect isn’t one of them.
“The path is smooth that leadeth on to danger.”
William Shakespeare, Venus and Adonis
Chapter 17
Thomas
Her eyes are closed and her head sagged so that her face rests heavily in my palms. The tears trailing down her cheeks break my heart. I kiss the top of her head. “I’m sorry I’ve caused you difficulty with Garrett.”
She doesn’t move.
“I don’t know how to fix this. I need your loyalty, I need to know that I can count on you and trust you, but I don’t want to ruin things between the two of you.”
Still, no reaction.
“No one ever promised you it would be easy serving two Masters.”
She opens her eyes and meets my gaze. “Tell me what to do.”
“Be good to Garrett. Love him while you’re waiting for me.” I kiss her, filling her mouth with my tongue, claiming her. Her tears leave both our faces drenched. “I. Love. You. With. All. My. Heart. And. All. My. Soul.”
“I love you, Lord Fyre. Thomas.”
I wipe her tears with my thumbs, as I still cradle her face in my hands. “Ari. My real name is Demetres Aristotle Velouchiotis. In private I’d like you to call me Ari.”
She repeats, “Ari,” and smiles. “I love you, Ari.”
“I love you, Sophia.”
She sobs against my mouth as I catch her lips. “Please don’t say goodbye.”
“You carry my child and I have just professed the depth of my love to you, I will never tell you goodbye. You are my heart. I could not live if I didn’t have your strength to hold me together.”
“Sh-h, don’t say that.”
“It’s true and knowing that I want you to obey Garrett in all things.”
She shakes her head. “You may need me to do you a favor.”
“I may but if he refuses to allow you to come to me I will not hold it against you.”
She sniffles, understanding. “He won’t forbid my aiding you.”
I hold her gaze a moment longer. “I need to get back to Nikos.”
“Do me a favor before you go?”
“If I can.”
“In Garrett’s office. My purse. There’s an ultrasound photo from my doctor’s appointment. I want you to have it…to remind you why it’s so important for you to return to us.”
“I don’t need a photo, sweetheart—” Seeing the disappointment in her eyes, I promise, “But I will get it before I go and keep it with me until I see you again.”
She smiles and I step away from her while I still can. I press the OPEN button so that I can exit on this floor before sending her back down to Garrett. I watch her descent and keep watching, leaning over the metal railing that allows me to see most of The Oasis dining room. Garrett looks up, seeming to know I am here, watching. He nods before standing to go to her himself. I trust him to care for her while I am forced to be away from them, I just pray I’m not overly long.
I step into the shadows as he leads her from the sphere. I know she will look up, and I don’t want her to see me. It is hard enough watching her melt against him without me there to hold her as well. She is broken, sobbing, and when she clings to him it is enough to get me through the moment. They will care for each other. With a final look, I take the stairs to Garrett’s office so that I can do the task asked of me. I don’t want or need the distraction. I know better. Staying focused on the task at hand is what keeps me alive…but I’ve promised.
Twins. My knees buckle, seeing the photo. Dear God.
In the corner of the photo it says eighteen weeks, and my mind travels quickly back to the memories I have of Latisha’s pregnancies. By twenty weeks she was showing with each of the babies. Granted, not as much with the first, but still showing. And not pregnant with twins.
Angry, I leave the office at a dead run and make my way to the dining room. My only plan to shake her within an inch of her life and then force feed her. Reaching the room, I pull myself up short, seeing Kitten nestled in Garrett’s lap. He is feeding her bites of food with his fingers. I swallow hard, realizing she was probably in the sphere for her refusal to eat. He has to be as worried as I am. I close my eyes and stumble back against the wall, remembering when I first took her to train. She was so thin, undernourished. She’d explained to me then that when she is under high stress she finds it hard to eat.
She’s been starving herself, probably since I first left to find Eva. This too is my doing. I have caused her undue stress. Damn me. Damn me to hell and back again.
I force myself to get my emotion under control. From the shadows, I watch them. I should be hurrying back to George’s and my brother, but I can’t bear to look away.
Sophia is carrying my twins. Mine.
The one thing my talks with George have done is make me see how desperately I’ve missed my children. It is a hopeless situation as long as they are with their mother in Africa. And even though I know they are being well cared for by Lattie, her father, and more than a dozen servants, I worry about their safety and wish there was something I could do to influence the situation other than outright kidnapping my own children.
My enemies keep me from doing so.
Now, I am blessed with two more children. I am so undeserving.
Watching Garrett coax her to take another bite, I have no doubt how much he cares for her and if I am unable to return, he would be a good father. I don’t like thinking the thought, but to think otherwise would be lying to myself. I do not know when, if, I will be able to return home. And now especially, I will not return until I know for a fact that Garrett, Sophia, and our babies will be safe.
An hour later I am pacing George’s kitchen, my mood ripe.
He left a dinner plate in the warmer for me. A note on the counter says so. It also says he is “in session,” which means he is behind closed doors with my brother and does not want to be disturbed.
I take out the plate and stare at the food, leaving it untouched. I keep thinking about Garrett, holding Kitten, feeding her bites with his fingers, and wishing I was there.
I can do nothing here.
Pace? Eat? Wait? George is doing everything that needs done. I am immediately filled with guilt. He has completely stepped away from his life to care for my brother. He hasn’t been to the club, he cancelled all of his social commitments…
I hear his steps on the staircase leading from the dungeon and quickly stab a fork into the baked chicken breast on the plate. I cut a bite and shove it in
my mouth. I am still chewing when he enters the kitchen. Under any other circumstances, I am most certain my taste buds would be experiencing nirvana, as it is I feel like I am chewing a piece of cardboard.
“I didn’t expect you back so early.”
I’m sure he didn’t mean it sarcastically but I take it that way. I feel bad enough spending so many hours away, but it’s taken time to convert the loft into an armed fortress. “How soon will he be able to function in society?”
George looks at me like I just asked him the meaning of life. He shakes his head and answers my question with one of his own. “Are you or I fit for society? We’re damaged. We deal the best way we can. Do I think your brother will ever be able to have a quote-unquote normal life? Normal job? Normal commitments? Normal relationships?” He shakes his head, his lips pursed thoughtfully. “Not a chance in hell. I think in time he will be able to create a new life for himself and whether or not that will fit into the confines of civilized society is yet to be determined.”
“I bought him a place, one of the artist lofts on Mission. When can I expect to get him settled in there?”
“His body is healing. Physically, he could go there today. Mentally?” He shrugs. “Maybe tomorrow, maybe never. I don’t think he is a threat to himself or others, but anything could trigger something deep inside his mind and he could experience a psychotic break.”
“But that might not happen? He might be fine?”
“I would expect it.” He goes to the refrigerator, retrieves two small bottles of juice and hands me one. “He doesn’t need institutionalized. He can live in society. Just expect the worst.”
“Then let’s ramp up efforts to get him to the point where he can exist in society.”
I can’t believe I am rushing this. I should be hiding him deeper, not forcing him back into the world. My gut tells me to hide him in plain sight. I just hope my instincts are trying to protect him and not just focused on being near Sophia and our babies.
I hide my fears behind a swallow of juice. If George senses I am mentally or emotionally torn, he will be like a dog with a bone and I do not want chewed on.
