Chapter 7 #2
Impulse and juvenile habits took over. I reached out and pinched his thigh; hard, vicious, and with enough pressure I knew it would leave a hell of a mark—just like I used to do to him on our family camping trips when he really pissed me off. It was the ‘fuck off, Rowan’ pinch.
The bastard captured my hand in his grip and his mouth pressed against my wrist, his lips against my pulse, hot breath ghosting across my skin. There was a twist low in my belly, a foreign heat that had no business existing from Rowan touching me.
“Patience,” Rowan murmured against my wrist, his voice suddenly changing to a honey-sweet tone I’ve never heard from him. Like he was saying, “Keep pushing and see what happens.”
I struggled with how to respond, being unfamiliar with hearing such a tender tone from him.
Then Rowan had to open his mouth and say, “We should save the foreplay for when we are inside, volchok.”
It was like he knew we were about to step into a sex club filled with potential predators. My patience was shot.
Also, volchok? What did that even mean?
“I simply couldn’t wait,” I replied sweetly. “Don’t you want to wait back home for me?”
I snatched my hand away and immediately regretted it. Rowan’s eyes glanced down at my fingers fidgeting with my purse—a terrible habit when I felt overwhelmed that I had picked up from my mother.
“Not a chance,” he said in a doting tone.
But his eyes told a different story. They were brimming with a cold, glacier-blue fury.
Anger lurked beneath his manufactured tenderness.
Rowan simmered with the kind of quiet rage that promised retribution.
I’d grown familiar with his different levels of animosity over years of pushing his buttons, testing boundaries, and finding the exact pressure points that made him crack.
Shit, he’s really mad. Outraged, even.
Romeo’s assessing gaze never left us. “You are allowed one guest to accompany you. Is he your partner?”
“No,” I said, over Rowan’s, “Yes.”
Romeo merely raised a brow and waited.
I raised a finger, “Can you just. . . give us one moment, please?” I asked before turning to face Rowan. We took a few steps away from the bouncer in the doorway before I hissed, “Are you serious right now?”
“Da.” He confirmed as he took one assessing look at my hair, my face, and my outfit. I swear I saw his pupils dilate before he said, “You will take me inside of this place with you, else I will spank your ass all the way back home to your daddy.”
Don’t tempt me, I nearly said, but refrained. Probably not the best time, especially since all I wanted to do was strangle him. I massaged the bridge of my nose before I whispered, “Fine. But let me be clear that you are not welcome here.”
Rowan’s shit-eating grin did little to stop the anxiety pooling in my stomach as he took my arm into his.
Perfect. Fucking perfect. My plan’s going great.
We both looked at Romeo. Knowing my first impression had been shot to hell, I sighed and said, “Yeah. He’s my plus one.”
Romeo frowned, but turned to grip the iron handle as he said, “Very well.” The click of the sleek doorknob resonated in the night. “In that case. . . welcome to Oubliette.”
The door swung open, welcoming us in, and my nostrils flared at the potent cocktail that assaulted them; rich dark leather mingling with notes of sandalwood.
Beneath it all lurked a scent both primal and dangerous, a musk that whispered sin against my skin.
The interior of Oubliette gleamed in obsidian perfection, every polished black surface catching fragments of the subdued lighting, scattering it across the room like leaves in the wind.
We followed Romeo through the press of bodies.
Shadows danced along the walls, alive with purpose as they cloaked figures who lingered in corners.
The bass vibrated through the soles of my feet, a heartbeat pulsing through the floor and into my bones.
On stage, dancers twisted around poles, occasionally tossing their scraps of clothing into the crowd like confetti.
Their diamond-studded clothing caught the spotlight, flesh on display for the hungry stares that followed every calculated movement.
I swallowed and tried to still my thundering heart. This place—and Oubliettes like it—haunted my nightmares, filled my thoughts with terror, and now I stood inside its gleaming black walls. . . with Rowan.
Deep breaths. Deep breaths, I chanted to myself. As soon as we get to the bar and manage a sliver of privacy, I’m going to force him to tell me why he is here.
Rowan followed close behind me, his body radiating heat like a furnace. His hand found mine and he squeezed. I looked down, a frown creasing my face and asked, “What are you doing?”
“I am claiming ownership,” he stated. He said it simply, as if his mere presence was enough to send a silent warning to every potential predator in the room.
I whispered, “I don’t need your help.” I tried to pull my hand away, but he held on. “And I’m not yours to claim ownership of.” I didn’t need his alpha male bullshit in that moment.
A well-dressed drunken man laughed as he nearly stumbled into me. The idiot would have bowled me over had Rowan not pulled me out of the way and held me against his chest. The contact electrified my skin as the scent of pine and smoke wrapped around me. Oh my god, why does he smell so good?
Romeo’s apology was muffled behind me. The sounds of his receding steps led me to believe he went to assist the drunken patron. I tried to steady my racing heart. “Rowan? You can let me go now.”
He made a sound of disgust and released me, his hand still clutched in mine. “Stupid drunk.” He assessed me. “Are you alright?”
“Am I—what?” Between the stress from lack of sleep, his foiling my plans, and trying to mentally prepare to be in this nightmarish prison where I had endured so much pain, the question was enough to trigger me.
Whatever air I had in that moment dissipated as my anxiety skyrocketed, forcing my breathing to wheeze in and out in shallow rasps. Rowan’s eyes widened, and he immediately folded me back into him.
“Violet, talk to me. Your heart is going crazy.”
I laughed, caught off guard by the absurdity of it. “My what? What does that even mean?”
“It means we can turn away and go if needed. Whatever this is, whatever reason brought you here? We can find another way.”
Hope bloomed like an unfurling flower greeting spring’s promise.
He had said 'we' and the words slipped deep inside my chest, nestling in a place I had kept locked away in preparation for this vengeance plot. I hadn’t realized how badly I had wanted to hear those words from someone in my other life—that whatever monsters lurked in this beautiful hell, I wouldn’t face them alone.
He doesn’t know what he’s getting into. There shouldn’t be a 'we'. He doesn’t deserve to get into this mess. The grim realization that I couldn’t drag him into this was like cold water being poured on me.
“I can’t,” I said and pushed away from Rowan. I glanced over to see Romeo finishing up tending to the drunk. I plastered a practiced smile on my face. “I’m fine,” I lied.
He arched his brow, giving me a skeptical look, but he said nothing. Romeo’s familiar baritone voice cut in, “Everything alright?”
“Yes,” I breathed, making every effort to appear composed as I looked back at him. “I simply needed a moment. We’re ready.”
We all made our way to the obsidian bar.
Romeo signaled the bartender, who was fulfilling a drink order for a waitress dressed like a flight attendant.
After a silent exchange, the bartender came closer with a phone in his hand.
The morbid realization crashed into me that, throughout all the years of captivity in my first life, I’d never thought to steal someone’s phone to get away. How pathetic was I?
Romeo turned to look at me, his gaze dark and penetrating, as he sized me up. I kept my eyes downcast, hoping to appear as demure as Alice’s friend. He still looked stunning. His dark hair framed a face highlighted by his bronze complexion.
He said to the bartender, “Andy, she’s here to audition. Ring Jules for her.” Then he pointed to a stool at the bar. “Stay put,” he said before he headed back towards the front door.
I took in an eyeful of his broad back and tight ass—perfectly hugged by the dark jeans he wore—and couldn’t help but wonder if he still danced.
Rowan leaned close, his breath hot against my ear, his voice a low rumble only I could catch. “Violet, do you enjoy ogling men like him?”
I jumped, covering my ear from his invasion as my pulse raced with an electric mix of trepidation and anticipation.
“Ogling? Is that why you’re here?” I whispered back.
“Giddy to see a naked woman for the first time, Rowan? I’m surprised your dad isn’t here for your first big boy night out.
” My words cracked at the edges, betraying my uneasiness at the situation.
Rowan sensed my discomfort. “This is not a place for Charlie, princess. Besides,” he said with that same insufferable smirk, “We both know that he has eyes for only one woman.”
“Ugh, gross! Don’t bring my mom into this.
” Being intentionally crude while also pointing out the polygamist elephant in the room regarding our parents was enough to pull a soft laugh from me.
“I don’t know what those three have going on, but they really need to figure it out and just tell us like we’re adults. ”
Rowan lowered his chin as he sighed dramatically. “I do believe that hell may have frozen over. For once, we agree on something.”
I was still pissed that Rowan was there, but I had to admit that his small talk helped settle my nerves. . . at least a little.