Chapter 12
TWELVE
SEVEN
I can’t stop thinking about that face in the crowd.
No matter how hard I try to distract myself, it keeps popping into my head unbidden until I’m pretty sure I know where I’ve seen him — and I hug my arms against my chest as memories threaten to surface.
I remember hands, lips, and a hard cock.
I remember trying not to cry.
Yeah. I remember him, even though I never knew his name.
I feel violated in ways that I can’t even understand, that my past keeps surfacing no matter how many times Caleb tells me I’m safe here.
I close my eyes, but I can still see his face in my mind’s eye.
I need to be getting ready for a morning of work under Linda, but the thought of it is too much to bear right now. I can’t handle seeing her, not when she reminds me so much of her .
I know it isn’t fair. Everyone else seems to adore her — including Della — but I can’t shake my unease even though I am trying so, so very hard to.
Everyone trusted her , too.
Trembling, I pull on my shirt, but I know I can’t go backstage. I can’t just sit here, either, because all I’ll do is think and remember things that are going to drive me crazy if I let them.
There’s only one thing I can think of that will hold my interest, and while a brief flash of guilt runs through me at the thought, I know I’m going to do it anyway.
I’ll earn back every penny of what I’ve lost, then Caleb can’t get mad at me for it.
Galvanized by the thought, I finish getting dressed and head downstairs, feeling for a moment like someone is watching me. It makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up, and I think hard about going back upstairs where I’m safe. But the idea of being locked away again gnaws at me, and I can’t bring myself to do it.
Instead, I go to the blackjack tables, avoiding the one Madeline is dealing at in favor of Nat’s, whose bald head seems to shine under the lights. They offer me their usual smile, asking, “You in, Seven?”
I nod as I sag into the stool at the table, prepared to lose myself in the familiar routine of trying to count the damn cards like Havoc had done his best to teach me. It might be a hopeless endeavor, but I can’t stop trying.
The only way I’m going to earn that money back is by learning the system, but so far, it’s eluded me.
Nat deals me in, and I still can’t shake that feeling of being watched.
They frown at me. “Seven? You okay?”
I nod, flashing a smile I hope looks more genuine than it feels. “Oh, yeah. Still tired, that’s all.”
Even though Nat doesn’t look like they believe me, they let me place my bet and play the hand.
Then another, then another, until I forget everything but the familiar sound of the cards being shuffled… and the utter despair I feel at losing over and over again, just like I lose at everything else.
Even the few victories I get don’t balance out the fact that I’ve lost more than I earned .
I suck at life.
“Hit me,” I say.
The back of my neck prickles, and a shadow falls over me.
I swivel my chair, and freeze up when I see Linda standing there, arms crossed and a scowl on her face.
“Have you been here all morning?” she demands.
I feel the color drain from my face, and I shrink back away from her glare. “I…” I fumble, glancing frantically at Nat.
They’re frowning, and they say, “Hey, go easy on the kid.”
She ignores them, her scowl deepening. “You didn’t show up for your shift. Ellen had to cover for you, on top of doing her own work. There are three shows tonight, and half the staff is pulling double-duty and working on the big MMA event so we don’t have any hands to spare. And you still decided to shirk your duties by gambling?”
“I’m sorry.” Tears try to spring to my eyes, but I force them back. I can’t cry. Not here, not now.
Not in front of Linda.
She looks so much like her , furious at me for making mistakes because I always — always — end up screwing up somehow.
Even this, which should’ve been good for me. Maybe that’s why. Maybe I’m not supposed to have anything good.
Nat is quiet, and I don’t look in their direction. There’s nothing they can say that would help my case, and I don’t blame them, but I wish they’d speak up for me somehow .
“You’re sorry. ” Linda makes a disgusted sound. “Like Janet was sorry for showing up high. Excuses don’t help me run a smooth show, Seven.”
I swallow hard, but it doesn’t help.
You know better than to cry, baby. You’ll have to be punished. Don’t you know how much trouble you caused?
I fight to push back the vivid memory, and my hands twitch with the need to hide my face like I’m a child all over again, trying to hide from the monsters in the room — if they can’t see me, I can’t see them.. It hadn’t worked then, and it won’t work now .
It’ll only make me look more pathetic.
I’ve always known that, but now everyone else can see it, too.
“Linda…” Nat’s voice is alarmed, and I realize I’m shaking so violently my teeth are chattering. “I’m calling Vortex.”
Linda nods. “Might as well. I’ll have to tell him that I can’t use Seven after all. I don’t put up with unreliable staff.”
“Hey,” Nat sounds sharper. “Do you not see the way he’s freaking out?”
Their words sound like they’re coming through water, distant and distorted, and even though I want to flee, I can’t move.
“Vortex?” I hear Nat say. “It’s Nat. I need you to come to my table.”
I want Vortex so badly right now. I want him to scoop me up in his arms and tell me it’s okay, to call me beautiful and that it’s okay, but…
But he’s going to be upset, too. Disappointed. Everyone’s going to be mad at me, and I suppress another whimper as I think about how they’re all going to look at me.
I’m such a failure.
I grab the edge of the blackjack table, bracing myself for more admonishments.
“Seven…” Linda starts, her voice more gentle. “Look, I like you, kid, okay? I’m talking about work here.”
I shake my head. “I’m sorry,” I whisper again. “I didn’t…”
I didn’t mean to screw up.
I didn’t mean to be this way.
I hear heavy footsteps, and I brace myself for more harsh words.
“What’s going on?” Vortex asks, and even though I don’t deserve the comfort, he wraps his arms around me.
“I didn’t know Seven was supposed to be working this morning,” Nat says earnestly. “But Linda…” Their voice darkens. “She laid into him pretty hard for not showing up.”
“I’m not apologizing,” Linda says sharply. “He shirked his work, and this is nicer than I would have been to most.” After a pause, she adds, “But he took it harder than I expected.”
“I’ll talk to him,” Vortex says, stroking my hair before taking my hand and tugging lightly. “Let’s go upstairs,” he tells me, his voice so gentle that it makes me wobble because I don’t deserve it.
I don’t deserve any kindness—not from him, not from anyone.
But I’m grateful for it anyway.
“I hope you feel better,” Nat says.
It takes me a second to realize they’re talking to me, but I rasp out, “Thank you.” I press close to Vortex’s side on the opposite side of where Linda is standing, not wanting to get close to her.
Vortex guides me toward the hotel, steadying me when I trip over nothing at all because I can’t see through the barely-contained tears in my eyes.
“Shh, it’s okay,” Vortex says, rubbing my back when we get into the elevator. “Do you want me to call Caleb or Havoc?”
I can’t handle the idea of all three of them staring at me in disappointment. I shake my head.
“Okay,” Vortex says. He falls silent, and it isn’t until the elevator dings that he tugs gently at my hand.
I blink several times, trying to clear my vision, then let him lead me into the penthouse.
“Let’s get you settled,” he tells me.
“Be mad at me,” I mumble. “I deserve it.”
He sighs. “I’m not mad, Seven. I’m…” He lets out a frustrated noise. “I wish you hadn’t skipped work to gamble, but that’s something to talk about later. Not right now.”
I’m not mad. I’m just disappointed, baby.
I sob, hiding my face in my hands.
“I know I… I messed up,” I croak out. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
“I know, beautiful,” he says, leading me to the couch.
I sit down, and Nacho jumps up on my lap. I feel something against my ankles and look down to see Miss K brushing against them. It’s like they know, and it makes the tears roll down my cheeks. I don’t deserve their love, either.
Vortex sits down next to me, then pulls me easily into his lap. “Cry it out,” he says quietly. “Then we can talk.”
It’s like the permission to cry opens up a dam inside of me, and I start to sob — ugly, heaving things that will make me blotchy and unattractive, but I can’t help it. I can’t stop it, not for several minutes while Vortex strokes my back and murmurs unintelligible words to me like anything can comfort me right now.
Nothing can.
Nothing can make this better.
“Do you still want me?” I whisper to him, my voice still raspy.
“Of course I want you,” he says, and he sounds surprised. “Why wouldn’t I, Seven? You made a mistake. It’s not the end of the world.”
I look at him, then lean in to kiss him.
When he doesn’t kiss me back, despair races through me again.
“You don’t want to kiss me?” I ask, unable to keep the hurt from my voice.
“Not everything has to be about kissing or sex,” he says.
But it does.
It’s the only way anyone ever wants me.
I kiss him again, a little more desperately. “It would make me feel better, Daddy,” I whisper against his mouth.
I feel the shiver run through him, and I know I only need to press a little harder.
“Seven—” he begins, but I cut his words off with another kiss, then another, then another, until he’s finally kissing me back.
I sag against him in relief, and his arms come up around me again. “I need you,” I tell him. “Please, Daddy.”
“We really should talk first?—”
Another kiss silences him, and I shift so I’m straddling his lap. “Talking can wait,” I say. Forever, if I have anything to say about it, if I can distract him from trying to talk about what had happened because there’s nothing to say .
I made an idiot out of myself, and this is the only way I know of to make it better.
“You had to stop work for me.” Again . “Let me make it up to you,” I coax him.
“You never need to make it up to me, beautiful,” he says, and I know I have him. “You have nothing to make up for.”
“But I want to.” I nuzzle his neck, starting to kiss my way down his throat. “Let me do this, Daddy? Please?”
“Yeah,” he says, breath hitching as my hand slides between us and I grip his half-hard cock through his pants. “Will it make you feel better?”
I genuinely don’t know, but I’m desperate to try it anyway. “Yes, Daddy,” I whisper.
Vortex lets out a breath, then nods. “Okay.”
He’s willing to give me this, and I wonder what else he’s willing to give me.
Anything , I think, and it’s such a strange but heady feeling that I don’t know what to do with it.
I slide down, getting down on my knees in front of him before nimbly unfastening his pants. He groans as my fingers curl around his cock, which rapidly stiffens under my ministrations. This is good. This is familiar.
I can deal with this.
I slowly lap at the underside of his cock, and he groans. “Seven…”
I ignore him, taking the head into my mouth and sucking hard until he forgets how to speak and carefully cards his fingers through my hair. I wish he’d push me down, that he’d fuck my mouth like Havoc or even Caleb would, but I’d been the one to say I didn’t want Havoc and Caleb there.
This will have to do.
I push myself, forcing myself to take more and more of his thick cock into my mouth until the head hits the back of my throat.
I gag, and he grips my hair, trying to urge me back. I ignore it, even as tears spring to my eyes for a different reason entirely. This is a welcome reason, and I slowly sink into that place where everything feels good instead of that sense of deep self-loathing.
Vortex lets me blow him, though he keeps pulling me back when I take too much of him at once. I whine in displeasure, but he’s firm with me, keeping me going shallow and slow instead of fucking my own throat on his cock.
His climax takes me by surprise, but I swallow quickly around him, drinking him dry and continuing to suck until he’s groaning and pushing at my head.
I reluctantly pull back even though I’m not ready for this to be over with, and I help him back into his trousers before climbing into his lap.
He tries to reach for my cock, but I shake my head. “I got what I wanted,” I tell him honestly.
He’s reluctant not to touch me, I can tell that much, but when I make it clear that it’s not what I want, he stops.
He’s too much of a gentleman for me, too much of a daddy , and guilt gnaws at me for taking advantage of him like this.
I rest my head against his shoulder, letting him caress my back again, and I could fall asleep like this — at least, I feel like I could, right up until the moment he speaks.
“Can we talk?” he asks gently.
I tense.
“Not about today,” he murmurs, tucking a few strands of hair behind my ear. “We’ll talk about that later. I… Caleb and I were talking, and I was thinking it might be a good idea to make sure we know where you are at all times.”
“You already do,” I say, puzzled. “My phone?”
Vortex hesitates, then says, “Someone could easily take that from you. We were thinking something more permanent.”
It takes a minute for that to sink in, and even then, I’m not sure if I’m understanding him right. “What do you mean, more permanent?” I ask slowly .
He sighs. “I suggested that we put some kind of tracker inside of you, where we can make sure no one can take you out of the casino.”
My blood freezes in my veins. “You want to make sure I can’t go anywhere,” I accuse him, pulling away.
He lets me put only a little distance between us before his arms tighten around me again. “That’s not it, Seven.” He meets my eyes, intent and pleading. “The Lockwoods desperately want you back. They’re…” He trails off, licking his lips. “They’re willing to fight dirty. With them coming into the casino, we can’t be sure they won’t try anything. And Seven, my beautiful boy, we don’t want to let anyone hurt you ever again.”
I swallow around the lump in my throat. “Do I have a choice?” I ask, my voice sharp even to my own ears.
Hesitating, Vortex shakes his head before saying quietly, “I think this is best.”
“You,” I say. “Not Caleb, not Havoc? Just you?” I laugh bitterly. “Yeah, I don’t buy that for a second.”
“It was my idea,” he insists. “You can blame me for it all you want, but I’d rather you hate me than get taken again.”
The worst part of it is that I don’t even hate the idea of them being able to find me no matter what. But the part of me that hates being held captive also hates the thought of being trapped in the hotel and casino even more indelibly. “You really think they’ll try to take me?” I ask, hating how small I sound.
He nods. “I don’t want to worry you, but it’s bad, Seven.”
Of course it’s bad, even though I don’t completely understand why. I think they want me back so desperately because they’re afraid of what I’ve seen, of what I know. They don’t want anyone else to get that information out of me, and they’re probably terrified that I’m going to say something.
It doesn’t matter that I have no intention of doing that.
All that matters is that they think I will.
They don’t know me at all.
No one does .
“Okay,” I say, my voice wobbly.
Vortex looks surprised, but I don’t miss the relief in his expression, either.
How bad is it?
“Okay,” he echoes. “I don’t have it with me.”
Unwelcome bitterness floods me, albeit briefly, at the thought that he already had this ready. But I’d agreed to it, and I’m so scared of what my family would do to me if they got their hands on me.
What they will do when they get their hands on you , an unwelcome voice whispers in the back of my mind.
I nod, then rest my head against his shoulder again. I’m drained, utterly exhausted, and all I want is to sleep. “Will you stay with me?” I ask. “Until Caleb gets back…”
“Of course,” he tells me.
I know we still need to talk about this morning, but I’m grateful he isn’t insisting on it.
I don’t think I’ll be so lucky when Caleb returns, but it’s a small mercy that I’m willing to accept for now.
I nod, closing my eyes again, then mumble, “Thank you, Daddy.”
“Sleep well, beautiful,” he whispers back.
I won’t, but at least I’m here in Vortex’s arms instead of alone.
It’s something.