Uncovering You 6: Deliverance

by Scarlett Edwards

  I look around for some clothes. Finding none, I wrap the white sheet around my body and wander to the window. I touch the glass. It’s cool and smooth against my fingers. I can feel a bit of heat from the morning sun. Overall, the room is air-conditioned to perfection.

  I wonder vaguely what happened to the remains of my dress. Not that it can ever be worn again-not after the way Jeremy tore open the front. But, there was still something about the red fabric that I liked.

  It wasn’t just its monetary value. I’ve worn plenty of expensive clothes inside Jeremy’s mansion. It wasn’t even its shape or its cut.

  No, those weren’t the qualities about it that I like. I liked them. But, they weren’t what made the dress special.

  I think it was just the significance of it. That dress was the first thing I wore when going out in public with Jeremy. That’s enough to make it special to me. If things had ended where I thought they would, if the night had proceeded in the expected way after the stark warning in the car, I would’ve wanted nothing to do with that dress.

  But things moved differently. And now, for better or for worse, I have to figure out where I stand with the man.

  Again.

  “Jeremy?” I call out, turning away from the window. I glimpse the bare concrete pillar where our adventure began last night and suppress a little giggle. “Jeremy, where’d you go?”

  I walk out of the bedroom, straining my ears for a hint of his presence. Maybe he’s in the shower? God knows, after last night, I need one. But there is a bathroom connected to the bedroom, and I don’t hear the water running.

  The entire suite, of course, is marvelous. I wouldn’t be surprised if it were the most expensive one in the city. That’s just how Jeremy lives. The rooms are wide and the ceiling is high. Lots of natural sunlight filters through, adding a sense of space and a feeling of supreme extravagance. The few wooden furnishings are bright and match the Caribbean lifestyle. I even spy a coconut or two lying around on the counters and shelves.

  My stomach rumbles, reminding me how long it’s been since I last ate. I definitely need some good nutrition to prepare me for the day—

  Shit. I freeze on the spot, midway to the refrigerator. I’m supposed to meet Thalia and Fey this morning. Stonehart and I are both supposed to meet them . I have no idea what his plans for that are.

  Thoughts of food forgotten, I lower myself onto a stool and tap my nails against the marble counter.

  Where is Jeremy? He’s the one who’s supposed to arrange the meeting. Everything about it depends on him. And he hasn’t given me his rules yet, or made known any of his expectations.

  Now would be the perfect time to do that, while we still have a few hours left.

  Anxiety creeps up my spine and settles into a gurgling ball in my stomach at the prospect of seeing Fey. How will she react when she sees me with Jeremy? Her mother obviously would’ve told her who she found me with… Maybe not… Either way, the last thing I want her to think is the same insinuation Thalia made: that I abandoned my friends because I “upgraded” my life to Jeremy Stonehart’s level.

  I do have some expectation of the rules Jeremy is going to set. I’m not an idiot. This isn’t my first rodeo with . He’ll tell me to be vague and noncommittal. He’ll tell me that I’m not to speak of what’s been happening to me in the months after the Corfu contract began.

  In short, he’ll tell me to be a cold, distant bitch.

  A sneaky thought rises in the back of my mind. Could I work this meeting, somehow, to my advantage? Could I indicate to Fey, without letting Jeremy know, that I need her help?

  But … the thing is . . . I’m not sure I need her help. Not really. Not now. My goals and desires and motivations are not as simple as getting away from Jeremy. Not anymore.

  If I had, somehow, stumbled into meeting like this even a month ago, I would’ve used every ounce of brain power I possess to channel outside help. To let Fey know the reality of my situation. To get her to alert someone, anyone, in the outside world, of what Jeremy Stonehart is doing to me.

  But, my future plans are more insidious than that. I haven’t forgotten Paul. One night of hot sex has not erased my memory of every depravity Jeremy Stonehart is guilty of. His increasing affection is not something that will sway my resolve.

  I need to get close to Jeremy. Close enough so that he really lets his guard down. Close enough that he begins to feel comfortable, safe, and secure with me.

  Only then will I take my vengeance. Only then will I have my revenge. I don’t need to get away. I need to worm myself closer.

  And right now, I’m on exactly the right path.

  That means I have only one choice about how to act during the meeting:

  I have to be Stonehart’s pet.

  I will need to be distant with Fey. I’ll need to do it without Jeremy’s rules. Maybe her mother’s assumption will be the actual angle I work. Maybe I should make it seem that I left my friends behind to gain access to a more privileged life.

  It hurts to do so. Fey and Sonja have been my only two consistent, faithful friends. I was always an outcast growing up. We moved around so much and changed homes so often. Burning that bridge is not something I’m eager to do.

  But, at the same time, I have to trust in our friendship. To hope and wish that someday in the future, after I’ve had my revenge, after I’ve brought Jeremy Stonehart to his knees, when the truth comes out, that that friendship will be enough to let Fey forgive me.

  It’s a sobering thought. I don’t know how good the odds of that are. But it’s nothing I can control. I have to commit fully to my purpose. I cannot waver. Not now. I have to be resolute. To get what I want, I must block Fey.

  It’s a depressing way to start the day. Whatever joy I could have derived from seeing my old friend is no longer possible.

  I hear a door open behind me. I spin around. I hear Jeremy’s voice.

  “Yes. Yes, that’s right. It’ll be watched. I want it ensured that there are no interruptions. I can’t risk it, dammit! You know better.”

  He sounds… not angry, exactly, but emphatic. I know better than to expect true anger from Jeremy when he’s dealing with someone else. In fact, the only time I’ve heard actual anger in Jeremy’s voice was in the limousine, when I grilled him about his secretary.

  “Yes,” he continues. “See that you do. I won’t tolerate failure in this venture. Appearances are more important now than ever. We need to drive our stock up before the opening. Any slips will be detrimental to everything we’ve done. Get your best men together. You have one hour. Goodbye.”

  Jeremy comes into the room just as the conversation ends. He spies me behind the counter. There’s darkness in his eyes. It fades the moment he sees me.

  He looks … immaculate, as always. He’s wearing white linen shorts and light brown boat shoes, no doubt from one of the most expensive brands. Every step he takes emphasizes the hard muscles of his deeply tanned calves which stand out against the white.

  A snake-leather belt, the same color as his shoes, emphasizes his narrow waist. The sleeves of his casual dress shirt are rolled up, the front unbuttoned midway to his chest. The shirt is the faintest color of salmon cream.

  If this is what he intends to wear to the meeting, then he definitely knows how to dress for the occasion. The color of his shirt lends the softest touch of femininity, the barest hint of sensitivity. A face like Jeremy’s, naturally intimidates people.

  The clothes counter that. They are precisely what he needs to look casual, and yet still be impressive. No matter how you slice it, his face is his most intense and magnetic feature.

  It’s the sculpture of his cheeks, the inherent leanness of jawbone that comes from possessing such a magnificent body. I once thought that his nose would be too large on any other man. Or anyone less imposing.

  I’m standing by that statement now. It would be too large on just about anybody else. Yet on him, it’s perfect.

  That’s why his clothes
are so important. Dressed formally, there is no man alive more impressive than Jeremy Stonehart. His height, his face, his stature, his manner of being… all those things come together to create a most imposing figure.

  It’s his natural way of being. Maybe he wasn’t born that way. But, it is who he has built himself to be over the years. There’s no changing that—not that he would want to. Yet sometimes, having such an effect on people is not the intended result. Sometimes, it’s necessary to take a step back from the intensity and allow a bit of warmth to creep in.

  Hence his wardrobe today. The meeting is no doubt casual. Certainly, that’s how Fey and her parents would approach it. We’re all here supposedly on vacation. There’s a time and place for intensity, and, like Jeremy told me in the car last night, appearances must be maintained. It wouldn’t do for him to show up to the meeting wearing one of his dark suits.

  “Good morning,” he greets me. He cocks an eyebrow as he looks over the bed sheet I have draped over my shoulders. “I would have expected you to be dressed by now.”

  “Should I be?” I ask, pushing up off the counter and sauntering over to him. I let the white sheet go a step away from him. It falls in a pile on the floor around my feet.

  “Lilly …” Jeremy growls. From the corner of my eye, I see his cock twitch against his shorts. A devious smile curls the corner of my lips.

  I put both hands on his shoulders and press myself to him. One hand crawls up to his hair, and I tug his face down to mine. I make him kiss me.

  He seems hesitant, even a little stiff, at first, but that quickly melts away as our lips come together. The kiss is slow, exploratory, almost. I realize a moment later that, like an idiot, I did not even have a chance to rinse my mouth this morning. Yet Jeremy doesn’t seem the least bit opposed.

  He pulls his head away. “God, I want you so bad,” he whispers in my ear. Restraint is clear in his voice. “But, we can’t. Not now. Brunch is in half an hour.”

  I push off and look him in the eyes. “Brunch?”

  “With Thalia and Fey,” he says. “I arranged it while you were asleep. You need to shower, now, Lilly. We have to go over the rules before we leave.” His hands tighten against my lower back, as he tugs me into him. The lasting effect of our kiss is very evident against my thigh. “The meeting will be short,” he tells me. “But, it is important that you know how to behave. It requires an enormous degree of trust on my side to let you go…” He pauses. One hand runs up the base of my spine, leaving a wave of goose bumps in its wake. “… uncollared.

  My breath hitches and I lose my nerve. Jeremy pounces in that moment, ripping his head down and sealing my mouth with a savage kiss. He takes control in my moment of weakness, thriving on the shift in the power dynamic between us and in my immediate vulnerability.

  Then, once more, he lets me go. I’m left dizzy, nearly stunned. My thoughts are both frantic and scattered. He considered having me go to the meeting wearing the collar? I thought he promised to remove it for good!

  Just the thought of having that vile thing back around my neck, even as a distant possibility, even as threat that has already passed, fills me with all sort of discomfort.

  “What… what made you change your mind?” I ask, breathless.

  “I did not change my mind, Lilly. It was just one of the available options to me to guarantee that things would proceed without a hitch. Ultimately I thought this meeting would better serve as a true demonstration of my trust in you. I was angry last night. I won’t deny it. I dislike having things out of my control. But, you must make exceptions for the unexpected. I did not intend for you to jump headfirst into this outside world. Not so soon. Not this fast. I intended there to be a series of steps that we would take together, each one progressively larger than the last, and each one building on the trust that we established before. Your behavior at each of those steps would determine how we would proceed, going forward.”

  He fixes me with an inscrutable look. “It was, in a way, meant to be representative of the TGB progression that I gave you earlier.” I flinch. He notices. “I know you do not like the term, Lilly. I know what those three letters represent to you. But for us… for you and me…” He tilts my chin up. I have to suppress a shudder when I glimpse the stark intensity in his eyes, “…to have any chance of moving forward, in the way I intend, we both have to acknowledge our past. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  “I . . . ” I blink, and have to look away. Suddenly, I wish very much that I were clothed. I curse whatever rashness possessed me to drop the sheet.

  “Yes,” I finish lamely. “I do.”

  “Good.” Jeremy stands back and turns away. “Now run and get dressed quickly, my Lilly-flower. You’ll find clothes waiting for you on top of the towels in the bathroom. I took the liberty of putting them there. I’ll give you six minutes. Don’t be late.”

  ***

  Exactly three-hundred and sixty seconds later, I burst into the living room, borderline frantic, with my hair obviously still wet.

  I find Jeremy leaning against the bar. He has his phone on the counter, and is engaged with something on the screen. He looks up at me. A smile flitters across his face.

  “Early by thirteen seconds,” he says. “I’m impressed.”

  “I had plenty of practice keeping time when you left me in the dark,” I say. The words don’t come easily to me. Talking about what he’s done in the past will never come easily. But, I force them out anyway, determined to show him that I will not balk at those topics again.

  It’s a resolution I made in my hurried shower. It’s all about power between Jeremy and me. If he sees that he can have more of it, just by virtue of being able to bring up topics that make me uncomfortable, his natural inclination—no matter what his other desires might be—would be to exploit it, to dominate me.

  I can’t and I don’t expect that ever to change. Jeremy is drawn to power like a moth to a flickering flame. If I show weakness, it puts me at a disadvantage.

  So, I’ll be strong and face my fears. I’ll face our mutual past, and I’ll lay it all out in the open, whenever the need arises, with as much ease as he. Sure, it might be nothing more than an act, at first. But, acting like something is real for long enough has the curious ability to actually make said thing real, in your own mind, anyway. It’s about what a type of training, a type of mental conditioning that works on yourself.

  His lips make a firm line on his face. “Yes”, he says. “I would imagine you did.” His eyes flare. I see a new challenge in them. “I watched you every day, you know. I saw you fall. Would you like to know something, Lilly? Something sick, twisted, and perverse?”

  The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I dislike the way his voice shifted when he asked the question. It’s a reminder of Stonehart.

  But I square my shoulders and face him defiantly. “What?” I say.

  “The time you slipped… the time you did not make it to the chair soon enough?” he says.

  “You actually had forty seconds left.”

  My eyes widen. I feel faint. I have to stick my hand out against the wall to prevent myself from falling.

  “You . . . lied!” I whisper.

  Jeremy moves around the counter with the fluidity of a snake. His eyes are black, as they fix on me.

  “Yes”, he says. “You see, Lilly, I am not perfect. Even though I strive to make myself seem as such, particularly in your eyes, beneath the surface lies a very fallible man. I sin and I have weaknesses. My life is not the pure existence I make it seem.”

  He stops a foot away from me. The air between us crackles with a strange mix of hostility, apprehension, and always, that lingering sexual tension.

  “Do you resent me for it?” he asks. His voice is low and scratched like sandpaper.

  “For shocking me?” I begin.

  “No,” he cuts me off. “For lying to you, Lilly. Do you resent me for telling a lie?”

  I look at him, and try to consider the question. My mind fo
cuses solely on the memory of the excruciating pain I felt that morning on the floor. At the horrible current pulsing through me. At the awful knowledge that that morning, I had failed.

  Except, I had not. I did make it to the chair on time. It’s just that Stonehart, watching through the cameras hidden in the ceiling, decided that he would have some fun with me.

  “Well?” he presses. An urgency creeps into his voice. “Answer the question, Lilly.”

  “I…” I shake my head. “I don’t know.”

  “That’s not good enough, dammit!” he curses. I jump as his fist hits the wall.

  “Jeremy,” I say, my voice small. “You’re frightening me.”

  His eyes narrow. “Good,” he snarls. “That’s good. You deserve to be frightened of me. I deserve to be frightening to you. It’s no less than the end result of all the things I’ve done, isn’t it? It’s actually a natural extension of them all. Isn’t it, Lilly? Isn’t it, my dear Lilly-flower?”

  “I don’t know,” I whisper. In truth, he’s terrifying me. I want nothing more than to sink to the floor and cower like a little girl. Right now, Jeremy is making me feel small, powerless, and insignificant.

  “You do know, Lilly,” he says. “Don’t lie to me. Look at me! Tell me what you see when you look into my eyes. Tell me what you see reflected in my pupils when they stare at you. Tell me, goddammit!”

  His hand flies out and he grabs me by the neck. The back of my head hits the wall. He begins to squeeze.

  My breaths shorten. Nothing I could have done would have prepared me from this. Nothing about Jeremy’s demeanor would have hinted that he’d be capable of this. Not this morning.

  “You’re hurting me,” I whisper.

  His grip on my neck doesn’t let up. Instead, he steps in front of me, and looms tall like the statue of some vindictive God.

  “Answer”, he whispers with supreme intensity, “the fucking question.” He brings his face inches away from mine. His eyes zero in on me. They’re dark and storming and absolutely terrifying. I don’t know where the shift came from. “What do you see?”