by Lisa Ladew
“God Mica, I can’t believe you still have a message machine, much less a home phone. Join the new millennium already.”
Mica smiled. Justin always gave her a hard time about her home phone. Every time he couldn’t get her on her cell and had to leave a message rather than text her he complained about it. Luckily, he was the best assistant she’d ever had, so he could get away with it. He was also one of the best friends she’d ever had. One of the only friends you’ve ever had, her mind amended for her. Mica ignored the voice in her head and listened to the rest of the message.
“You better get in to the office as soon as you can. Diamond Talent pulled out of Tuesday’s show and forty reams of fabric have gone missing from storage. The spangled stuff. I’m working on a new agency but I can’t guarantee I’ll have one lined up by tonight. Call me when you get up.”
The beep sounded abruptly. That was Justin’s way. He didn’t like message machines so he wouldn’t say hello or goodbye. He just hung up.
Mica finished off her water and threw the bottle in the trash as her ancient message machine cycled to the next message. So much for food. She’d get dressed and head into the office and pray that Justin had already found a new modeling agency. Her new fall line was being introduced at the runway show on Tuesday and she needed at least forty seasoned models to walk the runway. There was no way she was going out there herself again, or sending men out in the women’s clothing like they’d had to do one memorable season.
The message machine beeped again and Ruth’s smooth, cultured voice filled the room. “Darling, I’ve just seen the fall line. You’ve outdone yourself this year, kiddo. I always knew I’d picked the best person for the job, even when everyone else thought I was crazy. I know you have a show next week but make sure you get enough food and sleep. Don’t neglect your health like I did. Enough with the lecture. Call me when you can. But not too soon. I’m flying out today to the Bio Surge Spa in Bangaluru, India. They have a new treatment there they guarantee will reduce the size of my tumors by more than half. At eight thousand dollars a night, it better do something. Ciao, bella, and kiss some boys for me.”
Mica smiled and headed to the fridge for a yogurt. Yogurt counted as food, even if it was 6:30 in the evening. Ruth was right, if she didn’t take a few moments right now, she wouldn’t eat all night. Her body needed fuel. She wished Ruth well and said a small prayer that the treatment Ruth was heading from France to India for would indeed help her. Ruth deserved a few years of health and play. She’d worked hard her entire life, building Marshal Fashions from the ground up, and only when she’d been diagnosed with colon cancer had she finally decided to take her money and relax. She’d appointed Mica CEO and president of Marshal Fashions and left the country, hoping to leave her illness behind.
Mica grabbed a spoon and dug into her yogurt, smiling at the memory of herself as a brand new CEO. She’d been twenty-four and scared to death, especially since all the stockholders and employees had crowed about what a poor decision it had been. Mica had almost had a mutiny on her hands. Ruth had supported her the entire way, convincing everyone to just give her a chance. She’d been Ruth’s assistant for four years before that and was the only one who knew how all the pieces of the company fit together. And now, four years later, Ruth was still gone, and earnings had gone up by over two billion dollars in that time. Mica didn’t love fashion, but she was good at it. She had an eye for it. A flair for knowing what would work and what would be hot. That was enough for her, for now.
The last part of Ruth’s message played over in her mind. Kiss some boys for me. Yeah right. She hadn’t kissed anyone in over a year, and her awkward attempts with her last, short-lived boyfriend hadn’t resulted in anything worth talking about. There was something wrong with her, and she knew it. Some bitter, broken piece that didn’t let her trust, open up, be vulnerable. Fear was her only bedtime companion these days. Especially since Dick Bailey had found her again.
Mica finished her yogurt, grabbed the gun off the counter, and race-walked to her bedroom, shoving the thoughts aside. She didn’t have time for any of them. She shoved the gun back in the safe, then pulled on a black sheath dress, belted it, added the lowest heels she could find plus some silver jewelry, then ran into the bathroom to fix her hair and face, and put the colored contact in her right eye. A low, loose bun and some red lipstick later, she ran back down her hallway to grab her purse and head out to her car.
Mica pushed open her garage door and stepped down the first step, directly onto something that shouldn’t have been there. Dread burst through her lungs, replacing all the air that had been there a moment before.
Mica took a step backwards and looked down. The garage was gloomy, shadows climbing every wall, trying to pull her gaze to them. She snapped on the garage light and took a quick look around, then dropped her eyes back to what she had stepped on.
A wooden toy train sat on the step. Her heart began to beat madly in her chest. He’d been in her garage. Somehow, he’d gotten in, then gotten out while she slept. He was toying with her. Enjoying this. Nausea pushed at her throat. She’d never asked for this. All she ever wanted was to be left alone. To be a normal person.
Mica stared at the toy for several long moments, hearing the beat of her own heart pounding in her ears. Her dread only grew, strengthened, became a living thing that threatened to engulf her.
She squatted, not wanting to touch it, but having to know. She picked up the toy and turned it over in her hands. It looked handmade and hand-painted, blue with black trim. On the bottom were two words. Two words that caused a tear to leak from her eye and travel, unnoticed down her cheek to her chin.
Not enough.
Chapter 3
Daxton
Daxton Rosesson wandered idly through the grounds of his father’s mansion. The night had proved to be a bust. Darcia wouldn’t even look at him, rolling her eyes and running the other way every time he tried to get close to her. He would have loved to see her throw a temper tantrum over his shirt, but she hadn’t obliged him. A few women had smiled at him, but none had come up and actually asked him about his big cock. If they had, he could have pulled the shirt up and showed them the rooster on the other side. He loved shit like that, even if no one else ever thought it was funny. Well, his brothers thought it was funny. He could always get a laugh out of them.
Other than hoping to provoke Darcia, he had no reason to be here. He and his father weren’t speaking, Bronx was away on assignment, Phoenix was kissing every ass he could, and Knox would take care of all the networking that needed to be done for the company. He might as well go home.
But home was quiet. Too quiet. Maybe Knox would want to hang out afterwards. They could make popcorn, watch movies, drink beer. Knox had been around for that kind of brother bonding shit a lot lately. Daxton knew he was taking forever to get over Darcy, but fuck! He had thought she was the one. The one he would marry. The one who would have his babies. The one he was going to grow old with. But she’d had other plans. He’d found her with her lips wrapped around his buddy’s cock in the front seat of her car, behind her office building one evening. Fuck her and fuck him. He’d be happy if he never saw either of them again in his life.
Damn! No wonder Knox had trouble trusting women. Of course, Knox had bigger reasons to not trust women than some bitch cheating on him after four fucking years. But still, he had the right idea. Daxton had never known emotional pain like he’d felt over the last six months. Not even when his mother had stopped talking when he was eight and started her descent into insanity. That had hurt, but it had been gradual, and besides she had still been around for years before she went into the home. Would still lift her hand and run it through his hair if he ran to her crying. Would still look at him with her big, soulful eyes and communicate without words.
Lost in memories, Daxton almost missed the couple on the bench that sat just off the path he was walking on. A low female moan made him turn his head, startled.
Knox sat there, entwined with a woman he’d pulled onto his lap, one hand on her breast, the other hand holding her wrists together at her waist. The woman’s head was thrown back and her face filled with passion. Knox was kissing a trail down to the breast he was fondling through her clothing.
Daxton looked away quickly and stepped towards the house, trying not to make any noise. He didn’t want to disturb them for anything. As far as he knew, it was the first time Knox had been intimate with a woman outside of the green room in years. Since Willa. His heart cheered for his big brother. He loved his brother and would do anything for him, including help him arrange his twisted trysts in the green room, but every time he had a woman sign a non-disclosure agreement and told her all the rules, he secretly hoped it would be the last time.
Daxton clenched his jaw and mentally yelled at himself. That wasn’t entirely true. Sure, maybe he’d always hoped it was the last time for his brother’s sake, but maybe he’d enjoyed it a little bit too. Maybe he and Knox were both as fucked up as their father, destined to be dirty, condemnable old men just like him. Rich people were fucking crazy, they were all living proof of that.
Daxton walked up the stairs to the porch and pondered what exactly was the truth about how he felt about Knox and his women in the green room. He wanted his brother to be healthy and happy, but he didn’t think this behavior said anything but messed up and profoundly unhappy. How could a man have a healthy sex life when his partner always had to be bound and completely at his mercy? Of course, it was better than the two years after the…incident, when Knox hadn’t been with any women at all. What a grumpy fucker he’d been during that time. Then something had happened. Something with a woman named Rachel while Knox was on an assignment for their father. Knox had come home, obsessed with finding Rachel. They never had been able to find her, but Knox had finally come out of his self-imposed exile. Started seeking out women again, albeit with some slightly messed-up requirements. Eventually, he’d bought his house and the green room had been born.
Daxton pushed himself to dig deeper, almost enjoying the new introspection he’d found ever since he’d left Darcy. Why exactly would he enjoy helping his brother with something so seemingly depraved? Maybe because every time he did he was able to say, look, there goes someone even more fucked in the head than I am? He shook his head in the dark. No. He didn’t want to win at the expense of his brother. Maybe it was because he looked at it as helping his brother through a rough time? Just like Knox had always been there for him—even when he was a baby and Knox just a toddler, Knox had never teased or hit. He had always protected and helped Daxton, and then Bronx when he came along, and even baby Phoenix. It had been the four brothers against the world. Maybe that was it. This thing with the green room couldn’t last forever, could it? No matter what horrible thing Knox had been through at seventeen, surely he’d get over it someday, wouldn’t he? And until that day came, Daxton would be there for him if he could. He couldn’t think of anything he wouldn’t do for Knox.
Daxton smiled, thinking he had been right. Knox was getting over it. Daxton had seen it with his own eyes. Knox kissing a woman without her being bound. Knox spontaneously choosing romance over control.
Footsteps on the path behind him interrupted Daxton’s musings. He looked back to see Knox and the woman, holding hands, and coming up the walk. Knox locked eyes with him and lifted his chin. In that instant, Daxton felt his confidence waver. He knew that look. Knox was taking her to the green room.
Fuck. So much for growth. So much for health and happiness.
Chapter 4
Daxton
Daxton led the woman into the green room in his brother’s large Edwardian home in Presidio Heights, San Francisco. He smiled at her over his shoulder to try to put her at ease. He never understood why more of them didn’t just bolt when he explained this part of it. A few had taken off over the years, backing out of the room slowly when they saw the colossal bed with its custom restraint system. But so many more had stayed, seemingly normal women, who had eyed the bed with curiosity and naked excitement.
Over the years, he could think of only three women who had left. Dozens had stayed, many of them trying to put on a good girl act, their eyes darting about the room as they feigned nervousness. Some had actually been nervous of course, and Daxton thought he could always tell the difference, with all the deception detection training courses he had taken over the years. Others owned their desires, and walked in with flat, hard eyes that sparkled with eagerness for what was to come. The ones who had been in the room before always bubbled over with eagerness. Daxton tried not to listen to rumors about his brother, or think too hard about what went on in the green room, but whatever it was made women want to return again and again.
Daxton motioned to the woman to sit on the couch at the far end of the large room. He retrieved a piece of paper and a pen out of a cubby on the wall and took it to her, studying her. She was the epitome of his brother’s type. Long, flowing brown hair. Swept cheekbones and defined, warm eyes. Generous mouth. Gentle manner and soft voice. A look his brother loved, and a look most of the women who made it in here wore. Daxton eyed her and wondered if Knox was looking for something specific. If these trysts had any purpose other than relief, than pleasure. No woman who had ever entered this room had ever been more than an occasional sexual partner for Knox, Daxton was sure of it.
Willa had never been in this room as far as Daxton knew, and she was the only woman Knox had dated in the last … Daxton thought back to when the incident had been. The major fuck up that had broken something inside his brother. That had been thirteen years ago now, when Knox had been seventeen, almost eighteen. Had Knox really only had one relationship in thirteen years?
The young woman looked at him with expectant eyes and Daxton pushed his thoughts away. He would dwell on this later. Or not. It was Knox’s life, Knox’s choice, and Daxton had no business trying to avoid thinking about his own fucked-up life by focusing on his brother’s. Knox was a grown man. A powerful and successful man. If this was how he wanted his sex life, that was his choice.
Except it wasn’t exactly a choice Knox wanted to be making, Daxton suspected. Knox had become something of a legend with his kinky ways and his quest for perfect secrecy, making women who were into that practically throw themselves at him. There had been a time when Daxton had thought Knox was a genius for creating this persona, this mystery, this room and everything that went with it. He had thought Knox had done it deliberately, with that outcome in mind. But he knew his brother’s heart, and over the years he had to admit that his brother was seeking something he never found in the green room. A dull ache speared his chest. Sympathy for his brother? He ordered it aside and focused on the task at hand.
“Miss, what is your name?” he asked.
“Darby Jackson,” she said.
Daxton jumped slightly, his blood pounding in his ears at the woman’s name. So close to Darcy. So close to the name of the only woman he had ever loved. Daxton pressed his lips together and pushed the thought away. He was over Darcy. Had to be. He didn’t want to be affected like this anymore. He didn’t want his heart to leap into his throat and strangle him every time something reminded him of her.
Daxton pulled a small tray over to Darby and sat on the bench next to her. He wrote out her name on the top of the sheet, then turned to her.
“Miss Jackson, this is, ah, a little awkward, but I’m just going to get it all out there in the open and then you can make your decisions about what you want to do. Has Knox explained anything to you?”
She shook her head no, and her hair bounced around her face, her wide eyes, making her look incredibly gorgeous. Daxton sighed. He wished Knox would at least tell them something, but no, he left all of that awkwardness to Daxton. Daxton knew Knox was probably up in his office right now, sipping a drink, looking over contracts, waiting to see if the lady would stay or go. Knox had very little room in his life for small talk, or casual encounters. When he was in
terested in someone, he didn’t beat around the bush, or pretend any sort of an ongoing relationship was going to evolve from it. He brought her home, called Daxton on the way, and Daxton showed up to do all the dirty work. Bronx had done it for Knox a few times too, when Daxton wasn’t available, but Daxton knew Knox preferred him. Bronx gave him shit about it, Daxton didn’t. Daxton knew Knox would never hire someone who wasn’t part of the family to do this … screening for him. Knox didn’t trust people for shit. Just his brothers.
“Knox has a few, uh, requirements if you want to be, ah, intimate with him.”
Miss Jackson’s eyes widened even more (Daxton couldn’t bring himself to think of her as Darby) and Daxton bit back a smirk. She liked to play the innocent one, but something in her manner told him she knew exactly what she was there for.
“Have you heard any, ah, let’s say rumors, about Knox and what he does in this room?” he asked suddenly.
Her eyes narrowed for just a moment, and then the wide-eyed look was back, the rabbit caught in the snare, deer caught in the headlights look that said she was completely innocent. Just a fair maiden tricked into doing something she wasn’t sure she would enjoy. Daxton saw differently though. He saw calculation behind those eyes. Calculation and racing thoughts.
Finally she shook her head no again. Daxton figured she was lying, but he didn’t blame her for it. Her certainly wasn’t going to sugar-coat anything for her anymore, though. She knew exactly what she was doing there. She might have even planned it, intentionally putting herself in Knox’s path and hoping he chose her.
He stood and motioned towards the bed, putting emphasis on his words. “That’s where he’s going to tie you up and fuck you. You will wear a blindfold the entire time. He will stop if you say the word stop or no or don’t, so don’t say them even in jest or because you weren’t paying attention, unless you really want it to be over.”
