18. Do Black Swans Fly?
CHAPTER 18
DO BLACK SWANS FLY?
Paloma
“Let me make you something heartier.” Mary Jane wipes her hands on her apron, fussing over the stove.
“The grilled chicken breast was enough, thank you.” I cut up a green apple into small pieces and pop one in my mouth.
“Chicken isn’t breakfast. But of course, you’re starving this morning. You didn’t eat anything last night. No one did as a matter of fact. What am I here for then?” She throws her hands up in the air. “Am I that terrible of a cook?”
“You’re an excellent chef, Mary Jane.” A sweaty and shirtless Archer saunters into the kitchen. “We just weren’t hungry last night.”
Oh jeez. I swallow as my mind plays a collage of images of our non-dinner.
“Good morning.” He kisses my cheek, then grabs a piece of apple off my plate.
“Good morning.” I take in his scent, feeling disoriented and confused.
Did he just say good morning in an almost cheery tone?
“How are you feeling?” he asks, leaning his hip on the edge of the counter.
Suddenly time stops, the world falls away, sounds fade, and then, it’s just us in the room. Did I hang around this morning longer than usual after I ate breakfast in hopes to catch him after his workout? Yes, I did. His gaze roams my face for several beats before it drops to my mouth.
What is he thinking?
For a moment, I think he’s going to kiss me, but instead, he swipes the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip. On instinct, the tip of my tongue peeks out to taste him.
“Such a pretty mouth,” he murmurs in my ear.
“I’m going to check on the girls and make sure they tidy up the rooms.” Mary Jane turns off the stove and leaves.
“Sounds good.” Archer nods, his intense blue gaze never leaving mine. Well?”
“Well, what?” I want to wipe the beads of sweat off his bulging biceps.
“How are you feeling?” He cocks his head to look at me.
“Oh. Um. I don’t know.” I was feeling sore before, but now, I just want him all over again.
“I get the sense you didn’t learn your lesson.” He cups my face. “Dinner tonight is at seven thirty. Sharp. If you don’t show, your gorgeous ass is going to pay the price again. Do you understand, Little Dove?”
“You wouldn’t dare do that again.” I purse my lips.
He barks out a laugh. “Didn’t I already prove last night how much I’m willing to dare when it comes to you?”
I look away from him.
He moves his hand down to my neck and makes me look at him. “As I said, I can do much worse. Don’t tempt me, Little Dove. Dinner. Tonight. Wear the dress.”
“Or you’ll what? Finger me into oblivion, tie me up, or spank me. Or maybe you’ll hold another auction and watch from the other room while a bunch of old men bid on me like I’m some prized pig.” Anger pools at my belly. “As far as humiliation goes, there’s not much more you can do, Archer.”
A smirk pulls at his lips. “I would love nothing more than to tie you to my bed and fuck your little cunt all night.” The back of his fingers brushes my sex ever so softly.
His touch is so light it only works to fan the flames of my desire for him. But it does nothing to calm the storm brewing inside me.
Let me in. I scream at him in my head.
“I know that’s what you want. It’s why you’re angry. But one day soon, you’ll thank me for it.” He adds just the slightest bit of pressure, parting my pussy lips through the thin fabric of my pajama pants. “Turn around,” he orders.
“What?” The drumming in my chest kicks up the pace, cutting the air to my lungs.
“Do it now.” He disappears into the walk-in pantry on the other side of the room then returns with a green bottle in his hand.
When he finds me still frozen in place like a deer in the headlights, he grips both my wrists with one hand, twirls me so I’m facing the kitchen island, then bends me over.
“What are you doing?” I sly a glance over my shoulder just as he pulls down my pants to my thighs. My nipples pebble against the cold surface of the marble. I make to break free, but he cages me with his body.
“Mary Jane is going to walk through that door any minute now.” I say urgently.
“What do you care?” He presses his body to my sore butt cheeks. “I thought there wasn’t anything new I could do to humiliate you.”
His sweatpants are the only thing separating me from his steely erection. Is he really going to spank me again? In the freaking kitchen of all places?
“You’re a monster,” I say through gritted teeth.
“That’s right.” He places his palm on my back, pushing me into the marble and forcing me onto my tiptoes, which only serves to yank my ass higher into the air and his face.
In the next breath, I feel a cold drip on my ass. “What is that?”
“Aloe Vera,” he says as he smooths the gel all over my skin. “It’ll help with the soreness.”
I melt.
“Your moods are giving me whiplash,” I pout, reveling in how perfect his hands feel on me.
When he finishes, he bends down and picks up my pants. Before he covers my ass again, he plants a soft kiss on my tailbone. “I have to go into the office today.” He grabs another piece of apple, pops it into his mouth, then ambles to the refrigerator as if he didn’t just have me half naked, bent over the counter.
Like I said. Whiplash.
“Okay.” I look to him in confusion.
“Do you think you can handle yourself all alone in the house?” He peeks around the fridge door to look at me.
“I’m not running away if that’s what you’re thinking.” I roll my eyes.
“Good.” He grabs one of his protein shakes and shuts the door. “I can’t even begin to imagine what would happen to you and your little hinny if you did try to escape. I can promise you though, you won’t like it. I will see you for dinner.”
“Bite me.” I glare at him.
“If you’re a very good girl tonight, I will.” He dips his head and leaves.
I’m still reeling from my interaction with Archer when Mary Jane returns. “I’m sorry,” she says. “The girls are running a bit late this morning. Would you mind waiting a few more minutes before returning to your bedroom? They’re still finishing up the bathroom.”
“Oh, that’s okay. I’ll eat my apple in the dining room.” I smile. “I’ll let you do the prepping in peace.”
“Mr. Archer won’t be using his study this morning, if you’d like to sit by the fire. It’s extremely cold today.” She runs the water and starts washing potatoes.
“That sounds lovely.” I smile at her. “I’ll do that.”
I don’t go straight to the study; instead, I roam around the main hall and living room. This whole section of the house has been renovated to keep with the original style of the house. It’s beautiful, modern with an old-world flare that reminds me so much of Archer.
I’m still going about the house like a ghost when Archer comes downstairs, dressed in a three-piece suit that fits him to perfection. He descends the grand staircase with confidence, and an air of arrogance that only someone who truly understands his power can muster.
“Stop looking at me like that. Or I’ll never leave.” He meets me just outside his study.
“How am I looking at you?” I shrug.
“Hmm.” He cups my face, and his mouth collides with mine.
I melt into him. When my hands land on his chest, he grabs my wrists and places them behind me. His body molds around mine as he deepens the kiss. I’m a puddle of want at his feet by the time he pulls away.
“Have a good day, Little Dove.” He smirks then strides out the front door.
“Jesus.” I lean on the study door to catch my breath. Maybe things were easier when he was ignoring me.
No, they weren’t. Loneliness can be a really dark place. Even if Archer is still playing the aloof husband, he’s at least talking to me. He’s not divulging all his secrets yet, but I do believe we’re making progress. I touch my fingers to my tingling lips. If only things could be like this all the time. Him saying goodbye with a kiss before going to work. Or making plans to have dinner together when he comes home.
I shake my head to chase that silly fantasy out of my mind. We’re not even close to being that kind of married couple. Until I find out what he’s hiding, or what’s holding him back, our marriage won’t work. I glance up, then I realize the answer to all my questions is behind this door. With my heart thrashing in my ears, I dart to the front door to make sure Archer is gone. When I confirm he is, I rush back to the study.
The woodwork in here is like the rest of the house, a true work of art. And just as Mary Jane promised, Archer’s office really is a spot to get cozy with a book by the fire. But I need to focus on why I’m here. I stand in the middle of the room, trying to decide where to start. I look behind the artwork. Though I know if I find a safe behind one of them, I won’t be able to open it.
I rummage through some of the drawers on the built-in shelves but only find a few files. It makes sense that he has no papers lying around. Everything these days is stored in a computer. I glance at Archer’s massive desk, framed by the snowy gardens in the background.
I doubt he would leave anything of real importance just lying around on his desk. But I search it next anyway. When I come back empty, I plop myself on his executive leather chair and blow out a breath. The idea of just asking him crosses my mind. If he were a reasonable person, I would’ve made that my plan A. Back to snooping, I swivel around on his oversized chair, taking in the leather scent that’s so him.
Looking out the window, my gaze follows the beaten path that leads to the edge of the property. How long did Archer sit in his throne-like chair watching me like an ant, before he decided to join me? I laugh. That day, he said he just wanted to warn me about the woods. Though from up here, they look just like the woods. There’s nothing scary about them. Archer just wanted to mess with me. I swivel back to face the fireplace, and my bad knee hits the lip of the table.
“Ow. Hmmm.” I hold my knee and apply pressure to ease the pain.
Being off it for more than a month has certainly helped with the aches. I had completely forgotten about it. I massage it by digging my thumb into it the way Archer did after opening night. How did he know to do that? How did he know Aloe Vera would cool the heat on my butt cheeks? For a moment, an image of him turning his own necktie into a silky set of handcuffs plays in my head. I squeeze my eyes shut and let the rush of adrenaline settle at my core.
What are you hiding, Archer?
I hit the desk in frustration, and a drawer pops open. My head snaps toward the door to make sure I’m still alone. I pull the shallow drawer open and glare at its contents.
Archer is the most controlling, ill-tempered, arrogant, self-serving, bastard I have ever had the displeasure of meeting.
Pursing my lips, I snatch my phone and slam the drawer shut. I jump to my feet and bolt for my bedroom. Once I’m settled in my own bed, I tap on the screen. I mouth a thank you when the light shines bright showing a full battery. Then I realize that the only reason the phone has a charge is because Archer probably checks it daily.
“Argh.” I make a fist and hit the bedding.
For several weeks, he’s not only had my phone in his office, but he’s also been spying on me. I have no doubt he had one of his employees hack my passcode. After I calm down, I open the phone and check my messages. There are one thousand unread messages. I click on Paul’s window first.
Paul: you ARE the black swan. Perfection. Congratulations, bitch. Drinks on me. Right now.
His text came in a few minutes after I finished Swan Lake.
Paul: hey, what’s going on? Your dad says you’re not feeling well. We’re still at the bar. Join us.
Paul: wow, your knee must be really pulling a number on you tonight. Ice it. I’ll see you tomorrow.
Paul: YOU’RE QUITTING?????
Paul: Text me back right now.
Paul: I miss you
Paul: there’s a rumor going around that your Odíle was so perfect, you actually turned into a black swan and flew away.
Paul: do black swans fly?
Paul: text me back or we’re not friends anymore.
I toss the phone on the bed while tears pelt down on it. Dad made sure everyone stayed away from me that night. Then he told them I would not be able to finish the program. Why couldn’t he wait just ten more days and let me end on a high note?
Because he doesn’t care. Selfish. Cruel.
“Stop it.” I scratch the itch on the inside of my wrist.
Of course, Dad cares. It’s the fucking mob that doesn’t care. It’s Archer who chose not to help me and bought me instead.
Dad.
I snatch my phone again and call him. The trilling goes on for a long while before I end the call. He’s ashamed. Or maybe he’s sick. I wipe my eyes and open Hunter’s messaging window, which consequently has zero unread messages. Archer really put the fear in him the night we got married.
“Chuck.” I try his messaging window next.
My stomach drops when I only find one unread message.
Chuck: Whore. You just couldn’t leave him alone.
I start to type a message. But then delete it. What’s the point? He’s right on both counts. I sold myself to Archer. Even after Chuck warned me to stay away from his best friend, I crossed the line. But what was I supposed to do? Tell Archer that we couldn’t take his money because my brother called dibs on him? It’s ridiculous.
Wiping my cheeks, I realize there’s only one person who can tell me how Dad is doing. I worry about his heart. And I want him to know that I’m not angry at him. We all make mistakes. He doesn’t need to carry this much shame over what happened. I love him too much to judge him like that.
My hand trembles at the dark thoughts swirling in my head. I need a release. Without the show, what I look like doesn’t matter anymore. My fingers hover over my arm, resisting the urge. But I lose the battle quickly. I give into it and scratch the itch. I dig my nails deep until the pain replaces the anxiety building up in my chest and the tears welling in my eyes pour over my face.
“Ah.” I breathe in, but the air doesn’t reach my lungs.
I count like I’m supposed to, holding my breath. Ten, nine, eight, seven. I squeeze my eyes shut to ease the burning there, but I don’t inhale. Six, five, four…I suck in more air…three, two, one. I release it, then repeat the breathing exercise until the pressure in my chest lifts.
I have to make sure Dad knows I still love him.
Wiping my cheeks and eyes, I blink to clear my vision and then type a message to Hunter.
Me: hi, it’s me. Sorry I haven’t checked in
The three dots appear immediately, and I finally take a satisfying breath.
Hunter: you can’t text me
Me: I know. I just want to know how Dad is doing.
Hunter: how do you think? He’s destroyed. Hasn’t been to the office in weeks.
Me: is it his heart?
Hunter: it’s you, Paloma. You’re killing him. Why are you still with that brute?
Me: that was the deal
Hunter: you like being his little whore, don’t you? Your father said so. I couldn’t believe it.
Me: No, that’s not true. Can I see Dad? Would you help me?”
I wince at the choice of words. I don’t need his help because I’m not Archer’s prisoner. I can leave if I want. Can’t I? I’m his wife. He doesn’t get to say when I leave the house.
Me: I mean, I don’t have a car today. And Dad isn’t in Bedford anymore.
Hunter: Can you meet me today? I can pick you up around seven.
Crap. If I tell him I’m required to join Archer for dinner tonight, he’ll think something is wrong with my marriage. He’ll tell Dad and make things even worse.
Me: can we go now?
Hunter: I’m in the city. And I have meetings the rest of the day. Not all of us can come and go as we please, like the all-powerful Archer, you know.
Me: fine, seven works. How about we meet at the house?
Hunter: you know it isn’t your home anymore. Right?
Me: I know. I’ll wait on the driveway.
Hunter: I’ll see you there.
Me: Thank you.
Hunter: I miss your beautiful face, Paloma. I miss your smell.
Hunter: I miss what we had before he showed up
I stare at his last messages. Hopefully, he doesn’t think my texting him today meant that I miss him too. In fact, the only times I’ve thought of him in the last several weeks is when Archer brought up his name in a fit of jealousy. I close the app and focus on the good news.
After today, Dad will know he doesn’t need to be sad because of me. I glance down at the phone and consider putting it back in Archer’s desk. But then, wouldn’t that prove that I am, in fact, his prisoner?
What if I ask Archer to take me to see Dad? Just because he said no a dozen times before doesn’t mean he’ll say no again. Oh please, who am I kidding? The man is impossible. He’ll say no just because he hates Dad. And as usual, he won’t even explain why.
I place the phone under my pillow then jump out of bed, heading to the bathroom. I need to shower and find suitable clothes for a quick hike in the snow. I have to leave before Archer comes home. I check the clock on the mantel and quickly outline my plan. I have seven hours before I have to meet Hunter. I can tell Mary Jane that I’m eating in my room at five and that I plan to go straight to bed afterward. On foot, I’m sure I can make it to my old house in under an hour. I’ll have to wait outside in the cold. But at least, if I leave early, I’ll get a head start on Archer.
By the time he comes to my room to demand I join him for dinner, I’ll be well on my way to the city. Archer won’t be able to stop me from seeing Dad.
* * *
I stand to the side, the epitome of politeness and innocence, while I wait for Mary Jane to arrange my place setting. My well-laid out plan is off to a late start, but I still have one hour before Archer comes home. If I leave now, I can still make it to the house on time. It’ll be dark when I cross the woods, but there’s no way around it now. If I leave through the front door and take the main road, I have no doubt Archer will see me on his way home.
“Thank you, Mary Jane. You can come back in two hours to pick up the tray.” I sip from the glass of wine.
“I should stay until you eat. At least this way, Mr. Archer will know that I tried with you.” The pity in her eyes cuts me.
“Look.” I sit down. “I’ll eat right now.” I cut a piece of the grilled fish and eat. “Hmm so good. What’s in this?” I take a few more bites. For one, I need Mary Jane out of my hair. But also, I’m going to need my energy tonight. “It’s really good.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” She smiles proudly.
“I’ll make sure and sing your praises to Mr. Archer.” I know I’m laying it on thick, but I need her to go now.
“I’ll leave you to it.” She nods. “I’ll have one of the girls check on you later.”
“Thank you so much.” I sit there and eat some more while she closes the door behind her.
When I’m alone, I grab the glass and take a bigger gulp of wine. A tiny voice in my head tells me I should stay and try with Archer one more time. But I already know what he’s going to say. Mainly because he’s said it multiple times by now. I finish the meal and wash it down with the rest of the wine then head out.
Earlier today, I put my snow boots and winter coat under the bed. No idea why. I suppose I had it in my head that Archer was going to barge into my room again and figure out my plan. I don the coat and boots, then stuff my phone in the inside pocket. By now, everyone should be busy in the kitchen preparing for dinner. So no one will notice if I slip out the back door that leads to the terrace and the gardens.
I’m too nervous to take it slow. As soon as I leave my room, I commit to the plan and take off running. My heart races like a team of wild horses when I open the double doors and the cold hits my face. I dart down the stone steps and head for the manicured part of the gardens. It’s dark as heck, but luckily, I know the way. For a moment, I consider that the back gate might be locked, but I don’t have time to go back and look for a key. Worst case, I can jump over the fence.
A cold puff of wintry air makes my coat flap around me. It’s snowing again. But despite the quiet and calm the white flurries bring, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m feeling followed. It’s all in my head, but still, I won’t feel better about leaving the house until I’m well beyond the iron-wrought gate.
The last time I was out here, it took thirty minutes to get to the edge of the property. Looking at my phone, I can see I’m making good time. Stopping to catch my bearings and my breath, I look behind me at the house with its high turrets and recently restored stone walls. The lights make it look like a castle in some fairy tale.
With a heavy weight in my chest, I push the gate open. No lock. It shuts behind me with a loud clank that nearly startles me out my skin. I point my phone up ahead to light the way. My old home is only two more miles through the woods. With a steady pace, I can be there by seven thirty. Archer won’t have time to get to me.
With one last glance at the house, I trudge on. There’s a clearing right after the tree line that protects the gardens. My boots sink about a foot everywhere I step. Like Archer said, the area out here isn’t maintained at all. The wind blows again, and I gather my coat around me. Even though my boots are the best boots Archer’s money can buy, my toes are frozen.
A growl behind me makes me turn on my heel. There’s a large animal, prowling toward me. And I can’t help but think of Archer and the way he stalks toward me when he’s hungry for me. I step backward, and the animal advances. I can’t tell what it is. He’s too far for me to shine a light in his face to scare him off. But he’s close enough that if I run, he’ll give chase.
“Okay doggie.” I put up my hands and step backward.
The beast growls again. Maybe I’m infringing on its territory or maybe he hasn’t eaten all winter. Whatever his reason for drooling like that, I don’t care to find out. I take off running toward the protection of the next line of trees.
“Help,” I yell when the animal decides to come after me. “Someone. Please help.”
I make it to the trees with tears rolling down my face. I don’t dare look back. It’s too dark to see anyway. When I take the next step, I hit something solid like ice. Please no. I point my phone at my surroundings, trying to figure out how off track I am. And then I feel it, the floor gives out from under me. My mind goes blank right before I’m plunged into darkness.