Chapter 16
Chapter
Sixteen
ZOE
Later, I go downstairs for a glass of water and find Anvil sitting at the kitchen island, eating barbecued brisket on a brioche bun.
“Hi,” I say, quickly turning to get a glass.
“You all right?” he asks.
I tighten the sash around my silky robe and turn back to him. I nod. “I’m glad you and Trick were still in Boston. I’m sure that either Connor or I would’ve been shot if—”
I stop speaking abruptly because Anvil leans forward and covers my mouth.
When he removes his hand, I nod, understanding. “Just thank you,” I murmur.
“You’re welcome.” After a beat, he adds, “You’ve been bad a lot. Is that what you’re like? A bad girl?”
I start to bristle defensively, but catch myself. “I just needed some breathing room.”
“You chose the wrong friend to hang with. His posts are how they found you.”
Heat rises in my cheeks. I know he’s right. Rico was a hastily made choice. I should’ve picked a friend who doesn’t need to livestream his life right down to getting his eyebrows waxed.
“You put us all at risk,” Anvil says. “Especially Trick.”
Pursing my lips, I frown. “Unlike you guys, I didn’t choose this.” As I start to move away, Anvil’s big hand catches my forearm and holds me in place.
“So choose it.”
I open my mouth, but no sound emerges. He’s not squeezing, not hurting me. If anything he seems to be imploring me.
Trick enters the kitchen. His hair is mussed like he’s been sleeping.
“Choose,” Anvil murmurs, giving my arm a squeeze.
“I’m staying with C,” I whisper. “I already told him.”
“Good.” Anvil releases my arm and looks back at his sandwich.
“What’s going on?” Trick asks, getting a lime and a Coke from the fridge.
“Just talking,” I say.
Trick glances at us before he turns to the cupboard. “About?”
Anvil pauses between tearing off bites of his sandwich. “Bad little girls and good ones.”
Trick looks over his shoulder and smirks. “My favorite subject.”
“I should go upstairs,” I say.
“Sure,” Trick says, mixing himself a drink.
“Do not make popcorn.”
He chuckles, his gaze rising. “Not yet anyway.” He shrugs his brows, and then holds out his arms. “Bring it in.”
Unlike Anvil, Trick doesn’t call me out for my bad decisions.
Even though he warned me to be careful. Even though he had to carry out an impromptu masked shooting to save me.
I hesitate for a moment, but then step forward.
Trick pulls me into a tight hug, and I find myself leaning into him. It’s a good hug.
When it’s over, I head quickly back upstairs, not realizing until I’m in the bedroom that I forgot my water. I drink a couple of swallows from the bathroom sink’s tap and go back to bed. My sleep is restless.
“Wake up, Zoe,” C murmurs in my ear.
“Hmm?”
He pushes my hair back from my face.
“What time is it? Please don’t say we have to go back to Boston.”
He strokes my back. “No, but we have business to wrap up.”
“Ugh, it’s so early, Connor!” I pout.
“No, it’s not. It’s eleven, baby.”
“Eleven?” I mumble, glancing around. I usually wake around ten-thirty. I guess I was exhausted. “All right,” I say, sitting up.
C leans back against the headboard. “You’ve made some choices that have affected you and me, and Trick and Anvil. And I’ve let you get away with it.”
“I know. I’ll try to be better from now on.”
He nods. “My crue doesn’t make many mistakes these days, but back when we started, if one of us incurred a debt to the others, we figured out a way to pay that off.
It’s not about the money. It’s about respecting the bond and having each other’s backs.
To be able to count on someone, come hell or high water, is rare. We don’t take that lightly.”
I stare at him.
“Recklessness has consequences. Last night, Trick paid the price for yours.”
“So what do you want me to do?”
“You’re mine. They expect me to punish you, which I will. They also expect you to make amends. We can do that all at once and put it behind us. Or you can carry it forward.”
“How do we put it behind us?”
“I can let them do the punishing.”
A part of me knew this was coming. “Is that what Trick wants?”
“Of course. He likes to be in the middle of everything. Always.”
I climb from the bed and start to pace.
Connor holds up a hand. “You don’t need to run, Zoe.
I’m giving you a choice. If you want to spend weeks trying to come up with a better way, you can.
But think about what he did. If you want to make him strawberry waffles for breakfast as amends, you’ll be doing that for fifty years.
Or you could do this one thing that he’ll appreciate more than five decades’ worth of waffles. ”
I swallow, butterflies crashing into each other in my belly. “Can I think about it?”
He inclines his head. “You should. If you think it’ll be more than you can handle, we won’t do it.”
I spend all day in tense contemplation. It’s not that I think they’ll be so rough I won’t be able to take it.
I already trust Trick and Anvil to protect me in the ways that count.
It’s more that I’d be so vulnerable and the boundaries between me and C’s guys would come down in a way that could probably never be restored.
Do I want that? What would that even mean?
I avoid all of them, even Connor. I spend time working through some choreography changes for the show and on watching some old musicals that always inspire me. I have a few snacks, but shake my head when C asks if I want to go out to lunch.
Finally, I work up my courage and seek Trick out. He’s alone in the media room, watching a business channel.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey,” he says, turning his attention from the screen to me.
I sit on the couch next to where he’s reclining. “So, I’m sorry that I didn’t take your advice about going for a run or to lunch with my cast mates to deal with feeling stir-crazy.”
He nods.
“Connor explained how things work.”
“He did?” he asks, surprised. “How which things work?”
“He said I needed to make amends for putting you and Anvil in a difficult position.”
Trick studies my face.
“He suggested something.” I push my hair back, exhaling, and look around. I feel my cheeks flush.
“I wouldn’t actually make popcorn, Zoe,” he says seriously.
“No, he suggested that you and Anvil should be the ones to… you know.”
“To punish a bad little blackbird?”
I roll my eyes and smile. “I guess.”
“I should be the one. What did ‘Vil do? Walk around? Drive a car? Screw him. He can watch, but that’s it.”
I chuckle. “You guys really don’t get along?”
“You sure you’re down for this?” he asks. “If you make C do the punishing, it’ll go easier for you.”
“Make C do it?” I scoff. “C likes doing it.”
“C likes playing with you, but he doesn’t like punishing you hard. As bad as you’ve been, you shouldn’t be able to sit there comfortably. And he said as much that first night, before he even made you his girl. He can’t be rough enough with you. He’s too in love.”
Too in love. I love the sound of that.
“He’s punished me plenty hard.”
Trick smiles and shakes his head. “C’s so worried about not clipping your wings, he let you talk him into letting you run wild in Boston. You almost got yourself trapped in a real cage. If Frank had gotten you into his compound, getting you out would’ve been a bloodbath.”
I purse my lips. “So you would’ve just kept me prisoner here instead?”
“Definitely.”
“You know, you’re not exactly making me want to trust you right now.”
He laughs. “You can trust me to give you what you deserve.”
“Trick, I don’t think we’re going to be friends.”
He grins. “Yes, we are. Not that I’m looking to be your friend yet, Z. You’re a bad little Alice who doesn’t know her way around Wonderland. One who needs some hard lessons on navigating this world.”
“I know plenty. I’ve been friends with Rachel a long time.”
“And yet…”
I scowl. “I’ll let you do what you think you need to do. But next time don’t come to Boston or wherever. I can’t afford to owe you things.”
His teal eyes flash with amusement. “It’s cute how you think you can give me orders. Like I said, a lot to learn.”
I lean back, shaking my head at him. He is so cocky, which I like but also hate.
“Should we get this thing done? Or do you need to stew over it for a few days?” he asks.
I raise my middle finger.
He continues smiling. “When you go to get C so he can watch, stop by the kitchen and get a hand of ginger and a paring knife.”
“Why?” I ask suspiciously.
“Because I say so,” he says, the challenge unmistakable.
When I leave the room, I go directly to Connor. I have no idea all the things I’m saying, only that I speak rapidly, curse, and wave my arms a lot.
Connor gives me a hug and tells me to relax. This infuriates me, and I stare daggers at him.
“He’s teasing you. It’s actually a sign that he respects you. If he thought it would make you fall apart, he wouldn’t do it.”
I swear some more. “What’s wrong with you guys that this is how you run your personal lives?”
C raises a brow and shrugs. “Vanilla’s too plain for us. You must’ve heard the rumors.”
Sighing, I walk out of the bedroom with my flaming emotions driving me onward. As I descend the stairs, my mind is made up. I get the ginger and the paring knife from the kitchen.
Following the sound of male voices, I enter the downstairs guest room where Trick is waiting. It’s big and lovely and betrays nothing of what it’s about to be used for. Then I spot the top of a dresser where a bunch of BDSM tools are arranged. I thrust the ginger root and paring knife at Trick.
“You have to be able to perform,” Trick says casually. “So spanking you hard enough for you to feel it for days, or anything that would leave marks that could be seen when you’re in your costume, isn’t an option.”
“What does that leave?”
“Come here,” Anvil says, drawing me away from Trick and speaking in a low voice. “Thirty or forty minutes. Just uncomfortable. You’ve had harder workouts than this will be.”
“What is this? Good dom, bad dom?”