Chapter 13
Chapter
Thirteen
ZOE
Iwake from a nightmare, my body rigid and damp with sweat. I can’t remember the details, but I know someone was choking me, accusing me of betraying them. Beside me Connor’s sound asleep. I slide from the bed, not wanting to wake him.
I take my cell into the bathroom and close the door before turning on the light.
I wet a washcloth with cool water and rub it over my throat and chest and then the back of my neck.
I close my eyes and do a breathing exercise I use to calm my nerves before a show.
It helps. My pounding heart slows to its normal slow beat.
The light on my phone is blinking blue. I’ve got several missed text messages.
There is one from Frank that he sent around midnight.
It’s simple. I expect to see you tomorrow.
Let me know when you’re coming by. He’s wanted to see me for days, and I’ve responded with how busy I am with rehearsals and plans with friends.
Neither of us has mentioned Connor McCann.
I’m sure Frank’s heard by now that Connor’s taken me back and forth to the theater.
If I don’t go to see Frank, how will I explain that later?
Say that Connor wouldn’t let me? Admit that I’ve become involved with Connor and didn’t feel comfortable visiting Frank because I didn’t want to admit that to him?
There’s also a string of texts from Dennis, who’s pushing to get together.
The first texts say he wants to take me out to celebrate the show.
In the most recent ones, he asks me outright if I’m all right.
He wants me to call him. We’re not together and, from C’s account, it sounds like Dennis’s behavior is suspect, but shouldn’t I give an ex-lover the benefit of the doubt until I talk to him myself?
I feel guilty for not responding, but I’m not sure what to say.
I could be vague and tell him everything’s fine.
Would he believe it if I sent that message in a one-line text?
Because that’s what I’d have to do. I don’t want to talk to him on the phone and lie, or worse, have to get into a long honest conversation about where I’ve been.
One big reason I gave for breaking up with Dennis was that he wanted to work for Frank Palermo and I didn’t want to be involved with a guy in a crime syndicate. Now I’m sleeping with the man Frank mentored. How can I possibly defend that choice?
The truth is there’s something about Connor McCann I can’t resist. Despite the kinky things he does—or maybe even because of them—I crave his hands on my body constantly.
I take a deep breath.
What are you doing, Zoe? Is this the life you want?
I close my eyes and shake my head. I’ve already seen what things with Connor will be like. He’ll expect to control everything, including me.
I extinguish the phone’s light and flick off the bathroom light. I open the door and wait for my eyes to adjust. When they do, I pad silently across the floor, grabbing my tote and overnight bag.
I tiptoe out of the room, closing the door behind me.
I’m as quiet as possible as I descend the stairs.
I find the downstairs bathroom nearest to the front door and dress in jeans and a sweatshirt.
I try to remember where my coat is. I think I left it in the media room.
I’ll need it if I plan to stand outside in the cold waiting for a ride-share.
I put my boots and socks next to the front door and head down the wide hall to the media room.
There’s light coming from under the door.
I pause. Is Trick or Anvil inside watching a movie?
I wouldn’t expect it to be Anvil unless he’s keeping an eye on the house.
C said Anvil has his own apartment behind the house.
Trick doesn’t live in the compound, so he’s the more likely candidate to be hanging out in the main house, I guess.
I bite my lip. My coat’s probably still lying on a chair that’s right next to the door.
There’s a large media tower of electronics that could shield me from sight.
Beyond it, there are a few steps leading down to a series of couches with built-in recliners.
The entire far wall acts as the screen for the projector that’s built into the ceiling.
There are no windows, only a few fancy sconces.
It’s like a personal screening room for someone who can afford movie mogul luxe.
It’s three in the morning. Whoever is watching the movie might even be asleep with something still running. I don’t hear anything. Of course, the walls are reinforced to dampen sound. It’s a cave of a room.
I remind myself there’s no way I can go outside without a coat, which is what finally decides things. I open the door. My brows rise at the sound. There’s whimpering and the crack of something—a belt? I immediately flash back to bending over the couch at Slattery’s.
I bite my lip. Someone’s watching porn.
None of my business. But of course I’m super curious.
I see my coat and press my lips together. The chair’s farther in than I realized. I flatten myself against the wall and slide along it, extending a hand. If I can just reach it while most of my body is shielded from view by the tower, I’ll be in and out with no one the wiser.
“I think she’s had enough,” a low voice says.
I freeze, recognizing Anvil’s voice. I blink and lean slightly forward.
I get a glimpse of the scene. Anvil’s sitting on the couch, his shoulders bare. I can’t tell if he’s just shirtless or naked. There’s a muted movie playing on the screen… something old. Maybe Reservoir Dogs?
Trick’s standing behind the couch with some sort of implement in his hand. And bent over the couch is clearly a woman if the curve of the naked hips, butt, and legs are any indication. There are red marks striping her ass, and her hands are cinched together in some sort of pouch.
“Have you had enough? Tap your foot once for yes,” Trick says. He’s wearing dark boxer briefs, and his body is as good as expected.
I’m transfixed for a moment. Is she gagged? I really want to see her face. Her bare, narrow foot taps the floor.
Trick drops the implement on the couch. “You first or me?” Trick asks casually.
“It’s all you,” Anvil says, watching the movie.
I’m so torn. A dark and dirty part of me wants to stay and watch, too fascinated to move.
Another part knows that every second I stay raises the possibility that I’ll be caught. And how would they react? How would C react?
I slide my coat slowly and carefully from the chair. Then I back out of the room.
My cheeks are flushed and my breath’s short as I hurry back to the front door. I drag my socks on and shove my feet into my boots. Then I yank my bags up on my shoulder and quietly open the door. I step out into the velvety darkness, pulling the door closed behind me as gently as I can.
The sharp cold burns my nostrils. I follow a walkway to the drive and take it, knowing it leads to the front’s gated entrances. I am only about fifty feet from the house when a noise behind me startles me, and I spin around to find Anvil towering over me.
He’s got a long coat on, but it’s open so I can see his bare chest and jeans. There’s a gun in his left hand and flashlight in his right. He clicks on the flashlight and shines it on the surrounding area.
“Are you meeting someone?” he demands.
“No,” I say sharply.
“Get back to the house,” he says, continuing forward.
“I—I’m leaving.”
His head turns and his glance sizes me up. “Who’s coming to pick you up?” he demands.
“I was going to call an Uber from the sidewalk.”
He stares at me a moment. “You were going to stand on the sidewalk in the middle of the night, waiting for a random Uber driver?”
I don’t answer.
“You know where you are, right? We’re south of Aberdeen Street.”
Everyone knows the roughest neighborhoods in Coynston are south of Aberdeen.
I’m shivering from cold and the shock of being discovered. He’s so tall I have to crane my neck to look at him.
“I guess I knew that, but I didn’t expect there to be much mayhem next to the C Crue compound.”
The front door opens, and Trick strolls out with Connor directly behind him. Trick’s got jeans and sweatshirt on. If I hadn’t seen it for myself, I wouldn’t have had any idea that he’d just been engaged in some BDSM scene.
Trick smirks at the sight of me. “Nice night for a walk, huh, Zoe?”
“You checked the house that fast?” Anvil demands of him.
“The house is fine,” Trick says.
“I tripped an alarm?” I ask.
Connor takes my arm and turns me back toward the house. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“She thought she could get an Uber,” Anvil murmurs. “She was going to wait on the front curb.”
Trick laughs heartily. “I love this girl.”
Connor is not laughing. He looks furious.
I’m hustled back into the mansion, and my bags are tossed into the closet. My gaze darts toward the media room. Is the girl still draped over the couch? Or did they un-restrain her and let her dress since they thought they might be under siege from intruders?
“I think this time we should get to watch you punish her,” Trick says, still smiling.
“I should let you,” Connor says.
I suck in a breath and shake my head, too rattled at the moment for that to sound sexy.
“Good. Where? Is there time for me to make popcorn?” Trick jokes. “I’m hungry.”
Anvil removes his enormous coat, which could blanket a small village. There are several scars on his torso that draw my eyes. I remember hearing of various bloody battles that C Crue’s fought in various parts of the city. Are those his war wounds? I guess so.
“Anvil, you want popcorn?” Trick asks.
“Nah. I’ll be in the media room,” he says, stalking away.
“What’s up with you?” Trick calls after him. “You planning to take Holy Orders or what?”
Anvil ignores the question and disappears back into the room.
“There’s very beautiful company in the house, and he’s watching Reservoir Dogs for like the third time this year. What the hell?”