Chapter 7 Kyle #2
I glanced up and found Sam making coffee. My body responded immediately, my cock twitching. I lingered by the door, away from her. She was… who she was. Human… way off limits and I didn’t need the distraction.
I had one focus.
The Dupont rule.
“Kyle.” Her face creased into a smile, and I took another small step away from her. “I hoped I might see you.”
I didn’t say anything, not wanting to encourage conversation. The less time I spent with Sam, the better. Except…
Fuck it all to hell. I needed to make this boyfriend thing seem real if I wanted to keep Brock’s suspicions at bay. I forced a smile and stepped closer. Boyfriends didn’t stand a room’s length away from the women they took to their beds regularly.
She smiled again. “I wanted to thank you—”
I held up a hand. “No need.”
She frowned slightly. “But you saved me. You rescued me from Eddie, and I—”
“It’s fine.” I cut her off again. “It wasn’t a big deal. Not a thing. It just happened. And now you’re okay.”
She half smiled. “In a manner of speaking, right?”
I didn’t acknowledge her allusion to her situation. It was better not to get drawn in to the matter of her being in thrall to Esmé, no matter my personal feelings about that.
The door opened and Esmé walked into the kitchen.
She looked at Sam, her gaze hard before she spoke.
“Oh, I’m glad you came back after all. There’s no one else to give me a ride.
I’m ready to go.” Then she glanced between us.
“It’s always nice to see you two love-birds together, too.
” Her slight frown left no doubt that she was suggesting we should be a little closer to preserve her lie.
“But now that I’ve found both of you, shall we go? ” Her focus was back on Sam.
Sam glanced down at her just made coffee, the steam still rising from the mug, then at me. Then back to Esmé. “Can I just drink this? I was also talking to Kyle.”
Esmé’s lips turned down, her disapproval obvious. “And I’m ready to go. Bring your little boyfriend, if you want.”
Sam’s face tightened, the muscles moving just a fraction like she was irritated before she emptied her coffee into the sink and rinsed some water down after. “Come on then. I’ll give you a ride, too,” she said to me over her shoulder.
Her smile was gone now, and she looked a little defeated. But that irritation I’d just seen was pretty close to actual character, and in a thrall, that was interesting.
I quashed down the fresh anger that rose inside me. This time, the rogue emotion was for Esmé, and that really wouldn’t do this operation any good. I needed to keep Esmé onside for all of this to work.
But couldn’t she see the damage she was doing to Sam with her attitude? Did she even care?
Hell, why did I care? I shouldn’t.
Esmé left the kitchen, her movement more of a commanding stride, and Sam fell into line behind her. After a moment of standing in the empty kitchen and drawing a couple of breaths that I didn’t need to function, I followed. Deep breathing to calm myself was a habit, not a necessity.
Sam was already in position behind the driver’s seat and Esmé was alongside her in the passenger seat when I reached the front of the house.
I bent and spoke through Esmé’s open window. “I’m happy to walk.” I didn’t know the exact way back to the place where I was staying, but I’d find it. And walking always allowed me to think without distractions.
I wasn’t worried about protecting myself on the streets, that was for sure. I still had a fight or two left in me.
Esmé shook her head. “Get in the back. You’re my asset.
I need to ensure you stay protected. Sam —” She turned to her left.
“You can drop me off first, though, then Kyle and you can make things look genuine.” She dropped her voice seductively on the last word, and her grin turned malicious, like she knew neither of us wanted this ruse.
“But then come home so we can do the usual… night routine.”
I froze for a moment as I climbed into the back seat. Esmé appeared to have been deliberately vague on that last instruction, but there was no doubt what she was referring to. Sam’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, and the car filled with the scent of her desire.
It wasn’t sexual desire… Not like I knew desire, anyway. This was tinged with the bitterness of self-loathing, but obviously, she’d find pleasure in the idea of Esmé’s upcoming feed, even though she gave the definite impression she didn’t really want to.
I climbed the rest of the way into the car, trying to hide my disgust behind a neutral expression.
I mean, I got it. Who wouldn’t react to the idea of an upcoming high?
Esmé kept Sam like her own personal pet drug addict, ensuring she was always anticipating her next fix. The Blackbloods made me fucking sick.
We rode to Sam’s place in silence, and the memory of the way Esmé made her live when she enjoyed luxury downstairs roiled in my gut. I watched her leave the car and walk toward the house, my gaze hot enough to light her on fire.
After she’d closed the front door behind her, and Sam shifted the car into reverse to back off the driveway, I leaned forward.
“Can I get you something for dinner?” It would make Esmé happy that we were going on a date, after all.
And it was also a sensible suggestion — it was better for her to have something inside her before Esmé fed from her, especially if Esmé was going to leave her nearly unconscious again.
It definitely wasn’t anything more than that.