Chapter 15
The memories come uninvited, the way they always do when I'm alone with my thoughts. My mother's apartment, the parade of men, the sounds that filtered through too-thin walls. But one night stands out, carved into my mind like a scar.
I was too young to understand, but old enough to remember. The TV's blue glow spilling into the hallway, adult noises mixing with my mother's voice—first pleading, then demanding. The man was all muscle and darkness, leaving bruises like fingerprints on her skin.
That night taught me things no child should learn: that pleasure and pain live too close together, that control is an illusion we pretend to have, that sometimes we want what we're supposed to fear.
I've kept my relationships safe since then. Careful. Controlled. But what happened with Brody tonight... it has awakened something I didn’t know existed within me. That dangerous dance between fear and desire, between resistance and surrender.
The good girl playing her cello, following all the rules—maybe she's just another illusion. Maybe the real me is the one who got addicted to that stranger's touch, who craves the edge of danger.
My fingers drag across strings, creating something dark and discordant. The music that pours out isn't pretty or precise. It's raw. Hungry.
Like me.
If I get punished for being a bad girl, then why the hell am I going to be good?
"You better not be going to the game on Friday," Kiah says, eyeing the Ravens Hockey shirt still on my desk. "I'm so done with Jack. I’m so traumatized."
"It was a crazy night." I touch the shirt's fabric, remembering how it appeared on my bed. "I'm sorry it ended badly for you."
"You cannot go to the game," she declares. She crosses her arms with a pout.
"Oh my god, Kiah. I'm not entertaining a bunch of psychopaths." But even as I say it, something thrills in my blood. What would Brody do if I deliberately disobeyed? How would he punish me for being bad? "I’m going to hang out here, practice my cello, do some homework, and mind my own business, okay?"
Kiah hugs me from behind. I gently touch her arm and lean into her.
I skip the game, half-hoping he'll appear in my room again, angry and demanding. But the hours tick by with nothing but silence. Here I am, waiting for my punishment like a sick little whore. So, to free my mind of the ache between my legs, I go on a late night stroll. I need to clear my head. I’m sexually frustrated with no release. I’m on my way to the library, deep in thought, when I hear my name.
"Duchess?"
I nearly jump out of my skin because that voice is not Brody’s.
Jack is leaning against a pillar, looking fine as hell, all easy charm and danger. Nothing like Brody's controlled menace.
"We missed you at the game, Duchess." His smile holds a challenge. "What’re you doing out here all alone?"
"Fuck off, Jack," I scoff.
He steps in front of me, tilting his head. "See, I would fuck off, but the thing is, Lola…" He looks at me up and down. "I know what that pussy looks like… what it smells like… and I just can’t seem to forget it."
I swallow the lump in my throat because this is dangerous territory. "What about Brody?"
"You don’t seem to give a fuck about him. Not with that stunt you pulled."
"Isn’t he your friend?"
"Friend?" he scoffs, chuckling like it’s a joke. "Is that why you did what you did? Because you thought I was his friend?"
I stare at him, not answering that.
He watches me with eyes that tell me to run. "Because for a second, it seemed like you wanted my dick, and forgot all about… my friend."
I should run. After what happened with Kiah, after everything I know about the Reapers, and after Brody staking his claim... but Brody's silence burns. He wants to play games with me, claim I’m his and then dismiss me when I clearly disobeyed.
"So, what do you say? Wanna get out of here?" Jack asks.
I smirk. "Tempting," I hear myself say.
He smiles. "I knew there was something I liked about you." He wraps an arm around my shoulder and walks me down the hall. "This stays between us, Duchess."
"Don’t call me that."
He smirks. "Why not? You let Brody call you that."
"What’s going on with me and him doesn’t concern you."
He leans in. "But it does, and you may not know what I’m talking about right now, but it’s all connected. You’re a smart girl for keeping your options open. Fucking me tonight might just help you in the future."
I halt, planting my feet on the concrete sidewalk. "I didn’t say I was going to fuck you tonight."
"You’re going to play at that, Duchess? Come on then, I just want a little taste."
"Don’t fucking call me that, and fuck off, Jack."
His smile scares the shit out of me as he tugs me along to the parking lot forcefully.
"I’m not going anywhere with you," I state.
"Just get in, and I’ll show you the time of your life. Something Brody could never do."
"No."
He pulls out a gun. "Get in the fucking car. I don’t take no for an answer."
I take a look around the parking lot. There’s no one in sight. It’s either I fuck this idiot or I run. I see people in the distance, so I’ll take my chances. I glance down at the gun in his hand and then dare to read his eyes. This asshole won’t shoot me.
"You’re fucking out of your mind. Put that thing away," I demand, needing to buy a few more moments.
He shakes his head, smiling. "Not until I get a taste of the Duchess."
"Just a taste?" I ask, stalling as my mind runs a million miles per second to figure out what my next move will be.
"Just a taste," he repeats wickedly.
I duck and run past his car, then behind another car. I don’t stop moving as he calls my name. When I cross the street, a car slams its brakes and honks at me. The blinding headlights catches me off guard, but luckily my feet are still moving. I’m going in the opposite direction of my dorm, but I’m not going to stop because I have a feeling Jack won’t stop. Right now I wish I had Brody’s phone number. I start tapping out an email to Brody.
Lola: Your friend just pulled a gun on me. What the fuck is wrong with the Reapers? You sick fucks
I dial Kiah and she answers on the second ring. "Hey."
"That psychopath Jack just pulled a gun on me in the fucking parking lot."
"Oh my god," she says. "Do you think he’s coming here?"
My gut sinks because I didn’t think about that. I turn around and don’t see Jack. "Shit, Kiah. Get the fuck out of there, please. Go to Kylie’s room. She’s on the third floor last door on the left. I think you’ll be okay."
"Okay," she says, but I hear the anxiety in her voice. "Stay on the phone with me until I get there."
I’m powerwalking the street, hugging myself, terrified that Jack’s following me. Or going to our dorm to wait this out. When I turn around, no one is following me. The eeriness of a quiet street makes my skin crawl.
An unfamiliar number is calling me, but I don’t want to get off the phone with Kiah.
"Shit, Kiah. Does Jack’s number end in 7712?"
"I don’t know it by heart. Why?"
"I don’t know this number and they’re calling me."
"Don’t answer it," she panics. "Stay on the phone with me. I’m walking to her door now." I hear the knock on Kylie’s door and hear Kiah say, "Okay, I’m safe."
I feel a sense of relief that she’s out of our dorm room.
The number calls again. "Shit, they’re calling again."
"Maybe it’s Brody?" she says. "Answer it and call me back. I need to tell Kylie what’s going on."
We hang up and I reluctantly answer the call, but I don’t say anything when I accept it.
"Duchess," Brody says, and I feel relief at the sound of his voice.
"Thank God."
"Where are you?" he asks. "I’m coming to get you."
"I’ll drop a pin. Please hurry."
What feels like forever passes and then a beautiful black Range Rover pulls up to the curb where I’m waiting. I stare at the tinted windows just as the passenger door opens.
"Get in," Brody demands.
I glance around, but nobody’s in sight. A pit is in my stomach as I step into the passenger seat. Brody is fresh out of the shower, wearing a clean black tee and black jeans. I buckle myself in as he drives off.
I can hear my heart in my ears as we sit in silence.
"What took you so long? Are you taking me home?" I ask.
He shakes his head, avoiding eye contact with me.
"Then where are you taking me?" I ask.
"You didn’t come to the game," he says, his hand gripping the steering wheel tightly.
"Are you going to punish me?" I whisper, watching him under the passing lights.
He plays it cool, still not glancing at me. "We’re going to the mansion."
"Doesn’t Jack live there? I don’t want to go there."
His jaw clenches. "I thought we had an understanding, Lola? I thought I made it clear––"
"So what I didn’t come to your stupid game, Brody! Your crazy ass friend pulled a gun on me tonight!"
He’s grinding his teeth and then he spits, "After you sat on his fucking face like a whore. You chose the wrong fucking guy, Lola. And now you’re going to suffer the consequences."
"What do you mean suffer the consequences? Where are you taking me?" I demand, sitting forward so he’ll look at me.
"Just shut the fuck up and do as I say. If you disobey, I can’t promise your safety."
"My safety? What does that mean, Brody?" I scoff. "Brody!"
He ignores me until we reach the mansion. He pulls a black piece of fabric from his pocket and says, "Turn around."
I realize it’s for me. "You’re not blindfolding me. No fucking way."
"Don’t make me hog tie you," he warns.
I stare into his eyes, and there’s nothing there. No intensity. No anger. No lust. I don’t like this look on him, so I turn around and let him tie the blindfold around my eyes because I’m scared of what will happen if I continue to give him a hard time. He ties it as tightly as possible around my head, and I curse under my breath. I’m blind.
He whispers into my ear, "Be a good girl, Duchess, and I promise to give you whatever you want."
I lean back into his face. "Whatever I want?" I grab his face and kiss him with my tongue. I force his into my mouth and suck sweetly. He tastes like mint. "Be a good boy, and I’ll give you whatever you want."
He pulls my face to his and his kisses are hungry, and aggressive, turning me on. "Wait here. I’ll get the door for you."
"Such a gentleman," I praise seductively, not questioning why I’m blindfolded. I’m sure he probably just doesn’t want me to see a part of the mansion.
He opens the door and grabs my hand, leading me up a set of stairs. He locks his car and then he holds my hand as we walk through the place. Then the lights disappear and he’s leading me down steps into a dark room. It smells musky.
"Don’t say a word," he whispers into my hair, and I do as I’m told because now I’m afraid that he’s taking me somewhere I don’t want to be. "Put your hands behind your back. Trust me."
I listen because I’m completely helpless, and in some sick sense, I do trust him. I’m also terrified when he starts tying my hands behind my back. He gently touches my shoulder, and the feel of his hands relaxes me. I don’t know what I’m expecting from here on out, but he said if I listen to him, he can guarantee my safety.