Tower: A Dark Romance Rapunzel Retelling (Ever After)

by Measha Stone

  Santos looked over his shoulder once more before being pushed out the door, giving Azalea a hard glare. He blamed her. It didn’t matter that he’d gotten them both into the mess with whatever he did to have such a debt. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t gone willingly with Peter in the first place. The only thing that mattered was that once again, she’d caused trouble.

  “She’ll be home in two days?” Azalea broke the silence, putting space between her and Peter. In two days, she would be back in her own room, in her own bed, under her own roof. No, her mother’s roof.

  Everything there belonged to her mother. Azalea owned nothing, had nothing there. She’d resided in that house, but she hadn’t actually lived there.

  Looking across the room at Peter, she allowed the truth, the things he’d been trying to make her understand finally saturate her mind. She hadn’t been alive at all. She’d been a prisoner.

  “She said we’d look for an apartment when she got home,” she said, more to herself.

  “Azalea, nothing is being done until she returns.” Peter seemed to sense her apprehension, her fears starting to rise up.

  Pushing the darkness starting to creep into her memories aside, she put on a smile. “Right.”

  Peter folded his arms across his chest again, giving her the stern look that made her body remotely activate to his every word. This look differed from the one he gave Santos. That look had been full of power and danger. This one, although enough to frighten her when he wanted it to, held the same power, but behind it lurked control and dominance. This man wouldn’t hurt her. Wouldn’t lock her away from the world.

  “What are you doing here, anyway? I thought Daniel was supposed to take you into the city to sign up for a marketing class,” he said as though he could hear her thoughts.

  “He did.” It had been an amazing experience, arguing with Daniel in front of the admissions woman over what address to use for her student application. Daniel had won when he pulled out his phone and threatened to call Peter for his opinion on the subject.

  “When does the class start?”

  “Next week. I signed up just in time. It’s online, too.” Which would make her mother more likely to not cancel the class once she returned home.

  “No. No online courses. I want you in a classroom, with other people.” He shook his head, pulled out his phone, and started typing. “Daniel will take you back this afternoon to get it fixed. I’d take you myself, but I have to meet distributors at Tower, and do the final walk-through at the penthouse. They finished last night.”

  “I think online is fine. I did almost all of my graphic design work online.” Fighting with her mother to keep the class after dealing with the fallback for everything that had happened wouldn’t result in a positive outcome.

  “I’m sure you do.” The corner of his lips twitched.

  “Are you making fun of me?” she demanded.

  “No. I’m just sure that you’d rather hide online than have to face your mother and tell her you are attending school in person.”

  “One minute you say I won’t want to leave, and I’ll stay here, the next you assume you know what I’ll do when I go home?” Maybe he’d finally realized her sticking around would cause problems. For both of them, and it would be best for her to go home.

  “Have you ever seen baby pictures of yourself?” The complete turnaround on topic caught her off guard. “Have you? Pictures of your mother pregnant with you, or with your father holding you as a baby?”

  Her mother didn’t have pictures like that, or any, really of her childhood.

  “She’s not the kind of person to keep photographs.” Azalea defended her mother again. Why did she always have to excuse her for the same things Azalea had always felt a bit off?

  “Hmmm. There’s a huge painting of herself, and pictures of herself in her study, but not of you. That’s not strange to you?”

  Where the hell was this line of questioning going?

  “Do you know something you aren’t telling me?” she asked.

  “I’m asking questions, that’s all. Questions I’m surprised you haven’t asked.”

  Of course, she’d asked them herself. But nothing ever came of it. Her mother refused to discuss her father, and she would find a reason to become irritated if Azalea brought up any topic she didn’t want to analyze.

  “I’m going upstairs.”

  “Daniel’s waiting for you at the front door,” he said firmly.

  “He can keep waiting,” she threw over her shoulder and stalked out of the room. His footsteps were behind her; she didn’t need to look to know it was him.

  Well, he could be annoyed, fine. Because she was getting pissed, too. Everyone—everyone seemed to think they knew what was best for her. No one asked—everyone just pushed.

  “Azalea.” Peter’s voice went soft.

  She knew what that might mean, but she wasn’t in the mood. Not for his heavy-handed ways, not for his overbearing attitude, and certainly not for any damn punishment.

  “Do not walk away from me.”

  “Why? Will you lock me away?” she asked but didn’t turn around. She shoved through the door into the main house and stomped through the mudroom toward the living room.

  Daniel stood with a smile by the front door. A smile that faded as he caught a glimpse of Peter behind her.

  “Uh, Azalea, we going?” he asked with a jerk of his thumb toward the door.

  “No.”

  “Yes.” Peter’s booming voice overpowered her own.

  Azalea grabbed hold of the banister, ready to slingshot around it and run up the stairs, but Peter’s pawlike hand landed on her shoulder, stilling her.

  Before she could spin around to yell in his face, he had her pressed against the well-polished, intricately carved banister and applied that damn hand of his to her ass.

  He didn’t even speak while he spanked her! He effortlessly continued to pummel her ass. Right in front of Daniel.

  “Peter!” she cried out, trying to block him, but he merely grabbed her hand and pinned it to her back.

  “You don’t want to face the truth about your mother or your past, that’s fine, but you don’t raise your voice to me, and you don’t walk away from me, and you don’t ever tell me no!”

  Tears built and fell, but she would not crack. She would not let him think she was going along with his Neanderthal ways.

  The slaps finally ceased, and all she could hear was his heavy breathing coupling with her own. He helped her to straighten up, letting go of her hand. She took a step back, wiping her hair from her face then running her hands over her ass. At least he hadn’t hiked up her damn skirt.

  Daniel wasn’t there any longer. It was just the two of them, and they stood glaring at each other. Locked once more in a battle of wills.

  “Two more days, Azalea. Until your mother shows up on that doorstep.” He jabbed a finger at the front door. “You belong to me for that long at least.”

  “Belong to you, belong to my mother. Do you think there will ever be a day when I will belong only to myself?”

  She ran up the stairs, all the way to his room. Not her room, or their room, his room. Everything belonged to someone else. Nothing was ever truly hers.

  By the time she got inside and slammed the door, her lungs burned and tears ran hot down her cheeks. He’d been asking those questions for a reason.

  And much like her own mother, he was keeping it all from her.

  Chapter 18

  Peter paced the hallway outside his bedroom. How the hell had he let this happen?

  He was locked out of his own fucking room!

  “Peter!” Daniel jogged the last few steps of the stairs. “I have it.” He waved the key. Peter never locked his rooms; there had never been a reason to.

  “Thank you.” Peter snagged it from him.

  “Maybe…don’t go in yet,” Daniel suggested with some hesitation.

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re still pissed
, and she’s still pissed, and I’ve never seen you jump into a spanking like that.”

  “Are you accusing me of punishing her out of anger?” Peter had already gone over every flitting emotion that occurred before throwing her over that banister. Anger wasn’t among them. Fear she wasn’t ready for what was coming her way. Irritation she wasn’t listening. But not anger. He would never touch her in anger.

  “No. I’m saying— Fuck. Man, I’ve never seen you this attached to a woman. Like ever.” Daniel gestured toward the locked door. “And I’ve known you since we were kids.”

  “Get to the point.” Because if the point was to make Peter start evaluating his feelings for Azalea, Daniel should start backing away.

  “Look, I saw her this morning while we were at the college. She belonged there, man. She just—I don’t know, like lit up when we walked past the coffee shop and the bookstore.”

  “Then why did you let her sign up for an online class?” Peter asked.

  “Because.” Daniel sighed. “She seemed afraid, and I figured you’d straighten it out. I didn’t know you were going to go warlike Dom on her about it, though.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Peter gritted his teeth.

  “I mean…” Daniel straightened up, like he was coming to her aid. “Did it occur to you to ask her why she wanted the online class? She thinks she’s going home with that crazy woman. She thinks she’s going to walk out of here and be put right back in that fucking tower her mother kept her in. And if that’s not the case, you’ll just stash her in your own version.” Daniel’s voice hardened, and although Peter had heard him use the tone on women in the Annex, on his own submissive, and an asshole or two, he did not appreciate it being turned on him.

  Even if he could start to see that it was warranted.

  “She said that?” Peter looked at the locked door.

  “No. She didn’t need to. Maybe if you weren’t so hung up on figuring out who her mother is, you’d be able see more of Azalea.”

  “You got a thing for her?” Peter took a menacing step toward Daniel. Longtime friend or not, if he so much as had a fleeting thought of touching Azalea, Peter would knock it out of his fucking head.

  “Of course not.” Daniel shook his head. Daniel wasn’t into sweet women; he enjoyed the darker side of consent. A woman too willing didn’t keep him interested for long. Not that Azalea would be willing with him, but she was too sweet for Daniel. Way too sweet.

  “But you’re right. You’re supposed to be working on getting information on Bellatrix. Not me.” Peter gripped the key, letting the teeth bite into his palm. “I’ll take Azalea back to school to get her class switched. You—get your ass back to work on figuring out who else Bellatrix works for and how she gets her girls, and where the fuck she’s been this whole time.”

  Daniel clenched his teeth. If he wanted to argue, he managed to bite it back. Without a word, he jogged back down the stairs.

  Peter ran a hand over his mouth and down his neck. Daniel hadn’t been far off the mark.

  Azalea, as far as he knew, hadn’t been given many choices in her life. And he hadn’t exactly been generous in that department, either. He told himself he was looking after her. Giving her the opportunity to go to class, letting her free to roam the estate. But he wouldn’t let her leave. She wasn’t free.

  She was as trapped with him as she had been growing up.

  Peter started to slide the key into the lock, but stopped short of turning it. He’d told her he was going to give her reason to stay. It had to be more than sexual satisfaction that made her go against her mother.

  Pulling the key back out, he pocketed it and rapped his knuckles on the door.

  “Azalea,” he called, rolling his eyes at his own actions. Asking entrance into his own damn room. “Azalea, open up,” he ordered, quickly tacking on, “Please.”

  He heard her walking around. Probably wringing her hands, trying to decide what to do. He raised his hand to knock again, when the lock unlatched and the door opened.

  With a red nose and tearstained cheeks, she greeted him. She’d pulled her hair into a messy bun on top of her head and changed into a pair of yoga pants and an oversized T-shirt. More of Aubree’s clothes, no doubt.

  Wasting no time, he barged into the room, kicked the door closed, and pulled her to him. She wrapped her arms around his middle and buried her head into his chest.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, tucking her under his chin. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  She pulled away from him, wiping her cheeks with her fingers. “You didn’t scare me. I was mad.”

  “You cry when you’re mad?” he asked, confused.

  “Yes.” She nodded, like it was the most natural thing in the world and how come he didn’t know that?

  “Are you still mad?” he asked cautiously.

  “You spanked me. Right in front of Daniel!” She jabbed his chest and walked away from him.

  “Daniel walked away as soon as I touched you. He didn’t see anything,” he assured her, though that couldn’t be the problem. Aubree had held her hands while she’d taken a belting only a few days ago.

  “He knew. He heard,” she said folding her arms over her belly.

  “Azalea, when he’s with a woman, he spanks her, too. If you think he’s judging you—”

  “No! Never mind.”

  She stalked over to the armchair in the corner of the room. Throwing herself into it, she hugged her knees to her chest.

  “I can’t make this better if you don’t tell me. Are you mad at me for spanking you, or because Daniel knows you were spanked?”

  She rested her forehead on her knees. For a minute, he thought she wasn’t going to say anything, but then she started talking. A bit mumbled given her positioning, so he moved closer to understand her.

  “I’m mad because I wasn’t mad about it,” she muttered.

  He rubbed his eyes. If she wasn’t going to be rational, how the hell was he going to help her?

  “You’re mad because you weren’t mad. At me?”

  “I was mad at you, but then when I got up here—” She let out a low growl. “It’s complicated. I wasn’t mad at you. I didn’t hate it. I mean I didn’t like it, but I didn’t hate it. You just threw me over the banister and spanked me like some naughty girl.”

  “Well, you were acting like one,” he pointed out.

  Her eyes narrowed. “I’m confused and tired and annoyed. You keep pointing out little things about how I was raised, little stuff that maybe I should have picked up. I knew it was strange. I knew my mother was being way overprotective. But I had no choice. I had nowhere to go where she wouldn’t find me, and when I tried to leave, she became worse about making me stay.”

  Peter squatted in front of her, placing his hand on her knee.

  “I’m not stupid or as naive as everyone thinks I am,” she mumbled. “But she said I’d get my own apartment when she gets back this time, and now—now she’ll never let me.”

  “Azalea, you’re an adult. You don’t need her protection anymore. She doesn’t get to say if you stay with her or not. That’s your decision.” Peter realized he didn’t have the right to make the call for her, either. Even if everything inside him insisted she needed to stay the fuck away from her mother.

  “And here?”

  “I already told you—it’s your call.” He stood up and touched her cheek. “You can’t do anything about that right this minute. Wash your face and get changed.”

  She blinked. “Why?”

  “I’m taking you to the school to change your class. Staying with your mom or me or on your own, I think taking marketing will boost your own marketability. You have a talent for graphics, but you put some marketing behind that, and you can really take off.”

  “What if I don’t want to take this class? What if I want to just stick to graphic design and leave it at that?” she asked, obviously testing his new decision to let her have more say.

  “If that�
��s what you seriously want, then I won’t take you. We’ll cancel your registration and be done with it.” As much as letting her miss the opportunity would grate on him.

  “Okay,” she said, pushing off the chair and disappearing into the bathroom. He stared at the closed door.

  Okay, she wasn’t going, or she was? He sighed. This whole not demanding things of her and letting her walk her own path was going to make his head hurt.

  A few minutes later, she reappeared with a clean face, no makeup as he hadn’t bothered to get any for her. She was too beautiful to hide behind all that muck of mascara and eyeshadow. She vanished into the closet next. After another minute or two passed, she presented herself in a clean, button-down cotton romper that barely covered her entire ass.

  Another of Aubree’s damn outfits.

  “No, go back in there and change.” He wagged a finger at her. No fucking way he was taking her on a college campus with her ass cheeks hanging out the bottom. “It’s too fucking cold for something like that anyway,” he justified his order.

  She laughed. “You lasted an entire five minutes before you started giving orders again.”

  He relaxed his jaw. “You’re testing me?” He took a step toward her. “You’re playing games with me?”

  Her laugh died, and her smile dropped as he walked her back into the closet. Once she was inside, he grabbed the door handle. “Find something more appropriate. I said I wouldn’t force you into anything, but I draw the line at letting anyone put eyes on what’s mine.”

  Before she could protest, he pulled the door closed. He’d wait.

  All day if he had to.

  Chapter 19

  Peter tried. He did give it a lot of effort. Azalea could give him that much credit.

  But the man didn’t give up control easily. He won the wardrobe challenge, not that she had planned on leaving in such a skimpy outfit. Besides the fact the chilly fall wind would cut right through the thin fabric, she had no desire for anyone to see her butt hanging out of the outfit.