Chapter 12
Dmitri
Monday morning, I work out, wash my car, clean my kitchen and bathroom. I toss old car magazines into the recycling bin.
I’m procrastinating.
Things with Danica are still unresolved.
I haven’t talked to my parents since that meeting at their house.
Danica responds to my texts with one-word answers.
When I call, she doesn’t pick up. I knew going out for drinks the other night wasn’t going to solve our problems. She straight up said she was still mad. Sucks, though. I want my sister back.
I can’t put it off anymore. After throwing the final magazine into its bin, I drive to Danica’s house.
Her roommate, Elias, answers the door. He’s sporting a new haircut; his sandy blond hair is shorn on the sides, a little longer on top. It makes him look skinnier than usual. “Hey, Dmitri.”
“Hey. Is Danica around?”
“Yeah, come on in.” He steps back so I can walk inside. “D, your brother’s here!”
His shout startles a tabby cat, which had been about to scratch its claws on Danica’s grandpa-style easy chair.
“The fuck? You let Dmitri in?” Danica’s voice is muffled from behind the wall of the living room—her bedroom is the first down the hall.
“Uh…” Elias gives me an uncertain look, his eyes shifting from me to Danica’s room.
“You asshole, Elias. I swear to God, I’ll sprinkle Cackle’s dirty litter over your bed while you’re sleeping.”
Elias eyes Danica’s room, then he looks back to me. “I’m heading out. Gotta go to work. Yeah. Uh…good luck.”
He grabs his keys and skitters out the door. Fuckin’ coward.
I squat down and hold my hand out toward Cackle. He trots up with a mrowr to sniff at me. Seconds later, he’s winding around my legs like I’m his long-lost lover.
Danica clears her throat, and I look up. She’s wearing jeans and a sweatshirt—Danica is always, always cold. Seventy-five degrees is too cold for my sister. Her blond hair is hidden under a towel.
“Hey, sis.”
“Don’t fucking hey sis me. I’m still mad at you. What do you want?”
Cackle darts under the easy chair. Another coward. This house is full of cowards. I’m one of them.
I straighten up so I’m standing. Less easy to knock over this way in case Danica’s feeling scrappy. “I want to apologize.”
“Yeah? What for?”
Fuck, she sounds so snarky. Being on the outs with the rest of my family is painful. Being on the outs with Danica is torture.
“I’m not sorry for getting together with Leah.” I’ve said it before and I’ll say it a hundred times.
Danica puts her hands on her hips, ready to tear into me again. “But you fucking promised.”
“Yeah, I did.” I feel so goddamn defeated. I don’t want this argument now or ever. I just need her to understand. “It was a promise I made when I was in my twenties and you were a teenager. I never thought it would come back like this. I never thought I’d catch feelings for Leah.”
“And then you did, and instead of talking to me like a motherfucking adult , you hid it from me. You and her.” She blinks back angry tears. “You both shut me out.”
Now we’re getting to the truth of why she’s so pissed. She feels betrayed. I could go on and on about how she brought that on herself. This wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t made me promise to never go after Leah.
Instead, I say, “I didn’t want to hide it from you. And I promise to never hide something like that from you again.”
“Because you’re going to fuck another one of my best friends?” Her laugh is bitter. “Oh, wait, you can’t, because you took the only one I have.”
“Christ, I’m not taking your friend, Danica. She’s still your best friend. She’s waiting for you to call her because you said you needed space.”
“Great, so it’s my fault.” She looks down, but her shoulders are tense. The towel on her head droops comically.
“It’s not your fault entirely. I should’ve been honest. Leah should have, too, although I have to admit, I didn’t want her to tell you.”
“Yeah, okay.”
We’re getting nowhere. I know my sister, and right now she’s in a cycle of self-blame. We’ll have to resolve these issues later. But there’s another reason I need to talk to her. I don’t know if she’s talked to those Salding guys since that night, but hiding the truth hasn’t protected her.
I reach down to scratch Cackle behind the ears, because he has determined it’s safe to be out again. “There’s something else you need to hear.”
Danica’s gray eyes flash like chips of ice. “What is it?”
“There’s shit you don’t know about Granddad.”
“Are you trying to distract me from Leah?”
“No. Fuck. I’m trying to explain—I want to tell you everything because I’m fucking worried, okay?” I point at the tattoo on my biceps, the crown and dagger. “This is more than our family symbol—the Aseyevs are a gang.”
“What?” She shakes her head and laughs. “What the fuck are you talking about? Is this some kind of joke?”
“No joke. Organized crime. And Granddad is in charge.”
“Yeah, no.” Danica half-sits, half-falls on the couch. “No way.”
“We are ,” I insist. “I didn’t realize it when Mom allowed me to get the tat. Granddad suggested the design, saying it’s something all the Aseyev men wear. Mom said it was fine.”
She pales. “You’re serious. I remember back then. Dad was pissed after you got the tattoo.”
“Yeah.”
Almost to herself, she says, “I was hoping to surprise Granddad. I wanted it for a while. And then I wanted to make up after the big blow-out, convince him that…I don’t know.
Fuck. It was impulsive. I just feel like our family is imploding.
I wanted to do something to make it feel like I’m still a part of the family. ”
“Dani…what the fuck are you talking about?”
She lifts her pant leg.
Right above her ankle is a smaller version of my crown and dagger. The ink looks fresh.
“So.” Her laugh is bitter and false. “Guess I’m in the gang, now.”
* * *
Leah
Gage leads me to the bar in Low Vice. Betty’s making drinks and she waves hello.
Gage keeps his hand against my lower back, but he doesn’t make a move to sit next to me. “I have to do some work in my office. Dmitri will be working tonight, too—so no, he can’t hang out with you except on his breaks.”
“Well, what am I supposed to do, then?”
“Perhaps you can look around and find new ideas, things you’d like to try.”
When he invited me to come to work with him tonight, I thought it meant we would fuck around. I put on my sexiest black dress and skimpiest underwear.
And now he’s leaving me alone.
“Oh, don’t pout, baby girl.” He grins. “If you’re very, very good, we can open the toy drawer when we get home. You can pick out something new to try.”
Shivers erupt over my skin at the predatory glint in his eyes, the flash of his sharp, white teeth.
Finding my courage, I lift my chin. “And if I’m bad?”
“We’ll still open the toy drawer. But I’ll choose what we play with.”
Eep. Even though I’m clothed, I have to fight the urge to cover my nipples.
Thankfully, Betty takes that moment to ask if we’d like anything to drink. Gage presses his lips to my temple and retreats to his office. I order a raspberry-flavored water and begin my assignment.
I’m ready to find ideas to try, but it’s still early in the evening. Nobody is engaging in scenes, at least not in the big picture rooms. The St. Andrew’s cross is lonely, propped up in the corner.
Only a few of the tables and booths have people sitting at them.
The most compelling group is a woman with three men.
At first I think she’s their Domme because the men are so attentive to her.
But after a few minutes, I realize it’s the opposite—she’s their treasured submissive.
They tease her, fetch her a drink, make sure she’s absolutely comfortable.
I’m amazed at how easy all three guys are with each other.
Could Gage and Dmitri ever be that friendly?
After a few minutes, one of the guys tugs the woman into his lap. She blushes to the roots of her wavy brown hair. I wonder what he’s saying, or doing, to make her blush. It reminds me of that first time I was here with Gage. We sat in one of the booths and he fingered me beneath the table…
“Hey, there.” A deep voice startles me.
I spin to the side on my stool. I’m face-to-face with Car Guy. The last time I saw him, I was naked onstage and he was bidding on a night with me. The time before that, I was coming on Gage’s fingers in the car.
My cheeks become unbearably hot. I have a sudden urge to dump my icy water over my head. “Um, hi.”
“It’s been a while.” He smirks, no doubt enjoying my discomfort.
The man is gorgeous. I didn’t get a good look at his face when I was in the car with Gage.
And then, at the auction, all the lights were on me.
It was difficult to see features in the audience.
Now, I can take in his pretty hazel eyes.
His grin is playful, but the strong, square jaw hints at someone who knows how to handle trouble.
“Yeah, it’s been a while.” I’m not sure what else to say.
“I’m Seth.” He holds out a hand.
“Leah.” I accept the handshake. His fingers are warm, lightly callused.
“Are you waiting for Gage?”
“Yeah.”
“Too bad. Mind if I keep you company while you wait?”
I eye the stool next to me. It might be awkward to stare at the other kinksters with a new friend at my side, but this is a BDSM club, after all. I should get used to this sort of thing. “I guess not.”
“Thanks.”
He orders a coffee from Betty and turns around so we’re both facing the club at large. “Not a whole lot happening yet.”
“No, not yet.” I sip my water, trying to cool my head. “Is this normal for a Monday night?”
“Nothing’s normal here.” He grins. “Anne and her men are regulars. They’ll get up to something frisky before too long. I saw you watching them—does that dynamic appeal?”
I shrug. “Seems like a lot of pressure to perform. Would you want three partners?”
“I’m willing to try anything once. I can’t know if I like it until I try it.” He leans back against the bar’s edge, surveying the room like he owns the place. “How about you?”
“I always thought that was bullshit, actually. There are a lot of things I know I would hate.”
“Maybe you need someone to push your limits a little harder.”
I give him a good glare. “My limits are pushed just fine, thank you.”
“Whoa!” He holds up his hands. “I didn’t mean anything by that. Sorry, I struck a nerve. I know you’re with Gage. If I didn’t, that mark would tell me everything.”
“Mark?”
Seth looks pointedly at my shoulder.
The bite from my session with Dmitri in the fitting room is still red. He didn’t draw blood, but he did mark me, as promised.
I relax a little, now that Seth is acknowledging my relationship status. He doesn’t know about Dmitri—or maybe he does, I don’t care. As long as he knows I’m taken, that’s all that matters.
“Let’s start over,” he says. “You’re a tutor, right?”
“Yeah…how do you know?”
“I don’t read the tabloids or anything, but I’ve heard about some of the drama.” He grimaces in sympathy. “But things are good with Gage otherwise, right?”
“Well yeah, of course.”
“Good. He’s my friend, I want the best for him. But I want the best for you, too. I want the best for all my friends.”
I laugh. “Thanks, but I just met you, Seth. We aren’t exactly friends yet.”
“We could be.” He shrugs off my words. “It would be easy, too. No drama. I promise I’m not a celebrity of any sort. No previous entanglements that would draw the public eye.”
I imagine the scenario—not with him, specifically, but a faceless, nameless person.
My relationship with Dmitri is soaked in drama and tainted by our lies to Danica.
My relationship with Gage is being lived under a microscope and blasted by the media.
Sure, things have died down a little since Gage’s statement on PhotoGram.
But how long until something else happens?
“You’re thinking about it.” Seth’s voice is cool, confident. “We could learn each other’s kinks together, too. I already have some ideas of what you like.”
His words snap me back into reality.
I shake my head, clearing it. “I’m with Gage. And Dmitri. I’m not interested.”
He sighs. “You’re a good girl, Leah?—”
“You.” A dark, cutting voice speaks from beyond my peripheral vision. “You don’t get to call her that.”