19. Maddison
Maddison
Never once have I been behind schedule for an event until now.
Not that I’m drastically falling behind, but usually by the week of an event, everything is set in motion. The charity event in the name of Senator Hargrove is this Friday night, and I only have two more days to go.
I have been... distracted, to say the least. Every time I sit behind my computer screen, my skin buzzes like a live wire when I think about the weekend. My body still aches from the way they took me, and lingering bruises still mark my skin. It’s plaguing every second of my mind.
Which scares me. But also excites me. I need to focus, though. Everything needs to go smoothly on Friday.
My wild thoughts almost distract me from the thought that I’ll be attending the event with the mystery man I met on the weekend. I wonder what he’ll expect of me. Wonder if he’ll be as cruel as my father’s other associates. Or if he’ll be even worse.
I shake my head and force my attention back to the screen.
Spreadsheets blur together, numbers swimming as I click through tabs I’ve already checked twice. Everything technically is on track. Vendors confirmed. Seating chart finalised. Security arrangements locked in. If anyone looked over my shoulder, they’d think I was perfectly on top of it.
I don’t feel like it.
The only part of me that feels satisfied is the fact that we’ve already raised 1.
3 million dollars for our charity, in the name of reputation rebranding.
It settles something in my soul, knowing the number will only grow during the night of the event.
Celebrities pledging in front of the cameras in their extravagant gowns.
The main part of the event is the red carpet, and the ridiculous amount of money spent on photographers all ready to get the best shot. An email pops up from the vendor, photos of the huge grounds getting set up as we speak.
I’ve chosen a massive hall, made from marble and stone, sitting on acres of beautiful grounds. It’s grand and ostentatious. Glittering and golden. The ceiling is so high it makes the people beneath it look small, chandeliers hanging like constellations frozen mid fall.
Columns line the walls; towering glass doors, arched and framed in stone, open outwards on one side. They open to another world. There’s even a damn maze made of hedges that winds around and around.
And it’s perfect for a man who needs his image scrubbed from that of a sex-addict politician.
My hand goes for my phone, before I stop myself. I haven’t heard from Ash in days. Not since he took me back to my apartment and left me in the middle of the night.
No messages, no calls.
The only part of him is my little shadow that still follows me everywhere. When I parked my car in the garage this morning, a rumble of a Harley alerted me to Kai, who remained in the shadows. Still, I smiled at the thought of it. It felt... nice. Like, maybe he cared.
It’s good that he hasn’t contacted me, I tell myself.
I’m losing my head enough as it is. Space for my thoughts to settle instead of spiralling into places they don’t belong. Space for my body to stop lighting up every time I remember a moment. Space to remind myself that whatever happened on that lookout doesn’t get to rearrange my life.
Something happened up there, in the darkness, with the city sparkling beneath us. It was different. There weren’t any games. No lies or taunts. Just me and him. Thinking about it now has me short of breath, panic lacing my nerves.
Yes... the silence is needed.
I snatch my phone off my desk, anyway, dialling a different number.
“Hey, girl,” a sweet voice coos and I smile immediately.
“Tell me you get breaks between clients, and you can meet me for a coffee,” I plead, needing to have a moment with a person who isn’t part of a gang or part of the Dally Enterprise.
She laughs softly into the phone.
“Well, aren’t you lucky? I just finished with a client, and I desperately need to tell someone about what I just drew,” she giggles, almost maniacal.
I laugh back, her energy contagious even through the phone.
We decide to meet at the cafe below my building, her workplace is only a few streets away, and I immediately grab my bag and make my way down.
Both of our orders sit on the table in a small booth by the window by the time she walks in, clad in dark cargo pants, black boots and a sheer top showing a black bra underneath. Art covers her tanned skin, and eyeliner wings her eyes.
She looks stunning.
“Why are you the coolest?” I sigh, unable to stifle my grin.
When she leans in and hugs me, a genuine hug filled with genuine care, I shake my head at the way a lump forms in my throat.
“Why are you the fanciest,” she teases back, not knowing her simple gestures make me feel human for the first time in forever. “Thanks for the coffee.”
We cheers, and I ask the question that’s been burning my mind for the last ten minutes.
“Tell me about the tattoo.”
Her smile is wicked as she takes a sip of her coffee.
“You’ll never believe it. The hottest guy walks in, right, and unashamedly asks me to tattoo his dick.
” My mouth pops open in shock, heat creeping up my cheeks.
“Don’t get me wrong, I get wild requests every day, but this guy threw me.
And like, he whips out his dick, and I tell you...
” She shakes her head, eyes wide with wonder, and I nearly spit out my coffee as I giggle. “I’ve never seen one look so perfect.”
I’m mortified. I’ve never heard someone talk so freely about this kind of stuff, that is has me blushing like a virgin. And she sees it too, throwing her head back and laughing at my reaction.
“Long and thick, with pretty little veins running through it,” she teases, as my jaw unhinges. “I can’t even describe it; words won’t do it justice.”
I have to cough once before my words come out. “Soooo... fun day at work?” I ask, and her grin is answer enough.
“What about you, Maddy baby? What’s happening in the world of the 1%?”
Fidgeting, I pick at my nails. My father demanded that I bring his new associate, Zeke, to the event, but he never specified that I couldn’t bring my friend as well.
“I’m throwing this big event Friday night, and I was... wondering if you’d...” I sound pathetic. Like someone who has never had a friend their entire life. Because that’s exactly what I am.
But she squeals not waiting for me to finish. We get funny looks from tables nearby, but she doesn’t seem to care.
“Of course I’ll be there! Are you kidding? My life is all rock and roll and no diamonds,” she looks excited, more excited than I am by the thought of going. “Oh my God, I need to buy a dress! I literally do not own a dress. I’m assuming it’s as fancy as you are?”
“You can shop in my wardrobe if you want,” I joke, but the look on her face tells me she doesn’t find it funny.
“If you are serious, then I officially love you. I’d love nothing more than to see your wardrobe,” she gasps.
I have to chew on my lip to stop myself from saying anything embarrassing.
Having a friend has to be one of the world’s best feelings.
And the thought of having one come to my house and try on dresses with me heals something deep within me.
The part that thought I’d only experience this through watching movies.
It feels normal. And so, so nice.
The topic moves along, and my stress from work slowly fades away as we watch the city buzz through the window. Suddenly, her sharp nails dig into my arm.
“Maddy,” she whispers, and I swing my head in her direction. Her face has gone dead serious as she stares out the window. “This is going to sound crazy, but... I think we are being watched.”
My brow furrows, confusion and nervousness ramping up my heart rate as I peer out the window again. And then I see it.
Kai parked completely illegally across the street, leaning against his bike. As usual, he doesn’t bother to hide the way he is watching us. I suck in a deep breath, trying to find the words to explain it. How can I even start to explain?
“Roxy,” I start, and she looks at me, her face drawn tight. “It’s okay. We are okay. It’s just... there’s this guy... And I’m... Well, he...”
The silence stretches as the words fail me, but her nails loosen on my arm. “Soooo... you know him?”
I nod, throat tight. “Yeah.”
“Are we in danger?”
My head shakes because I know Kai won’t hurt us. I don’t know how or why I know that; I just do.
Roxy’s gaze flicks back to the window, then to me again. Her expression is carefully neutral now, like she’s retreated into herself. I hate that I’ve caused it. I didn’t even think about Kai or the Devils.
“Well,” she says lightly, lifting her cup and taking a slow sip, “that explains why he’s stopped in the middle of the walkway, staring like a fucking statue.”
I snort despite myself. “He’s not very subtle.”
“No,” she agrees. “Men like that never are.”
That makes my stomach clench. Men like that.
She doesn’t elaborate. Doesn’t say how she knows. The words linger between us.
Her eyes drift back to him again, slower this time.
“It’s a shame,” she adds, voice casual, almost bored. “Because he’s really fucking hot.”
I choke on my coffee.
“Maddy,” she scoffs, elbowing me teasingly. “I have eyes. Like, look at those arms. Tall, dark and fucking handsome as fuck. And the way he’s leaning up on that bike? He screams bad boy. And you just know he’s got a great cock.”
Heat creeps up my neck at the fact that I do know that he has a great cock. And that he has a twin with an identical great cock. That I’ve been taken by both at the same time. If she knew that, would she think less of me? Something tells me she wouldn’t, yet I don’t have the guts to tell her.
“You can’t say things like that,” I breathe, incredulously, though I can’t stop the grin growing on my face.
She grins. “I absolutely can. I just won’t do anything about it.”
Her smile fades just a fraction as she looks back out the window, fingers tapping once against her cup. “Which is probably for the best.”
I study her profile, the way her jaw tightens and releases like she’s measuring her reactions carefully.
“You don’t have to worry,” I say quietly. “He’s not... He’s just... there.”
“Mmm,” she hums, unconvinced. “Men who are “just there” don’t watch exits.”
I glance back at Kai, and sure enough, his attention flicks briefly to the street, then back to us. He looks like danger incarnate. Death lingers in his eyes. I fidget, wondering if she’s right. Wondering if I’m stupid for pretending that he won’t hurt me.
Roxy sighs. “Look. I’m not asking questions. And I don’t need explanations.”
She turns back to me fully now, eyes sharp but not unkind.
“I like you,” she says simply. “I want to be your friend, because God knows it’s been a long fucking time since I’ve had a good one. I like laughing about dicks and complaining about clients and pretending the world is normal for half an hour.”
My throat tightens.
“And I’m very protective of the version of my life where that stays true,” she continues. “So, whatever this is...” she gestures vaguely toward the window, toward him, toward everything I haven’t said, “... I can’t be in it.”
I nod. I’d already known that. Still, it stings.
“But,” she adds quickly, reaching across and covering my hand with hers, “I’m not going anywhere.”
I look up.
“As long as you’re safe,” she says. “And as long as you’re choosing whatever you’re choosing with your eyes open.”
Her thumb squeezes my knuckles once, firm and strong.
“If that ever changes,” she continues, quieter now, “you tell me. No pretending.”
I swallow. “Okay.”
She nods, satisfied, then glances back toward the window one more time, head falling into her hand as she sighs wistfully.
“...Still though,” she mutters. “Tell me you haven’t seen anything more beautiful than that male right there.”
I laugh, worried that if I told her there were two of them, she might explode.
“Thank you,” I mutter, fingers wringing together on top of the table, feeling shy. “I’ve... I’ve never really had a friend. Not one like you anyway.”
Her big smile is back, crystal blue eyes sparkling back at me. “I know.”
I laugh, my chest feeling warm and fuzzy in a way I don’t recognise.
“And I’ve never had a friend like you.”
“I know,” I tease back.
We sip our coffees for another moment, letting the words we spoke sink in. Roxy, being Roxy, doesn’t let the silence last long.
“You really had me there for a second, though,” she laughs. “Innocent, sophisticated little blonde thing, getting involved with men like that. It lowkey makes me like you more.”
“Well,” I start, eyes darting down to my half-drunk coffee. “You haven’t seen his dick. If you had, you would understand.”
Her laugh was pure disbelief, spilling out of her loud and sudden, her hand whipping up to catch the coffee she spits out. Eyes dart in our direction again, and when we look back at each other, we collapse in a fit of giggles.