I felt like a two-year-old being reprimanded. “If you’d given me a fucking chance before you pulled out into traffic like a bat out of hell, I would have done that myself.”
“Next time, I’ll say ready, set, go. Will that work for you?”
I stared at this man’s profile. I’d known him for over a decade, but I’d never really looked at him. If I were to be honest that was because he scared me, even more than Stewart. Perhaps it was because with Stewart, from the beginning, I’d felt a small semblance of power. It wasn’t much, but even with what he made me do, I felt that part of him cared. I never had that feeling from Travis. From the first time I saw him, when he picked me up at the academy and brought me to the apartment, I had the feeling I was an annoyance, someone he’d rather do without. And then there was the creepy predator feeling: the one that gave me goose bumps and made my stomach lurch. Hell, just the other day he’d admitted to watching me have my brains fucked out by all the different men. He’d also admitted to wanting his turn. We both knew how that had turned out the first time.
Lost in my own train of thought, I asked, “Travis? Were you there, at the warehouse, or were there always cameras?”
He didn’t look my way; his eyes fixed on the road. “I was there.”
“Every time?”
“Almost. I wasn’t there the last time. Mr. Harrington had just… I couldn’t leave him.”
“The time before? The first time Stewart wasn’t… were you?”
“Yes.”
I inhaled deeply, thinking about that. “Why?” I asked with genuine curiosity.
“It’s my job. Mr. Harrington had the contract with those men: I didn’t. I was there to make sure things didn’t get out of hand. I was upstairs and watched through a closed-circuit network. The other men didn’t even know I was there.”
“Closed-circuit—like cameras? Did it record?”
“No. Mr. Harrington wouldn’t allow that. It was part of the do-not-disclose. The friends wouldn’t have allowed that either. As you can imagine, many of them have wives and careers. They didn’t want to have their pastime come back on the six o’clock news.”
“But,” I questioned, “you said you had video? I heard the audio.”
“I recorded it on my own, with my phone. I saved it all to flash drives.”
Resting my elbow against the window, I stared out toward the road, my eyes wide open, yet seeing nothing. “Why did you record it? Did Stewart know?”
“He didn’t. I didn’t start doing it until Mr. Harrington began to get sick, and I did it for insurance.”
“Blackmail.”
“Insurance.” His volume rose. “Yours and mine.”
“If there was no evidence, why would I need insurance?”
His dark eyes looked my direction for the first time since the beginning of this conversation. “Tell me that you’re fucking listening. Tell me you understand what’s happening.”
“I’m listening. I don’t understand one goddamned thing! I don’t know why all of a sudden you feel this obligation to protect me. I don’t know who those other men were or are. As you know, Stewart made sure of that. And I don’t know why you think I’m suddenly in danger.”
Again with the jerky driving. This time, we pulled onto the shoulder of 95 as gravel and rocks pummeled the underbody of the SUV, as we came to an abrupt stop. My body flung forward only to be pulled back by the restraint of the seatbelt.
“Nothing is sudden,” his voice was uncharacteristically animated. “Maybe you are just a dumb cunt. Maybe I overestimated—”
Interrupting, my gray eyes glared as I spoke over him. “I’m the dumb cunt?! You don’t fucking speak in complete sentences. How about you start? How about you actually tell me more about this mysterious underground of Harrington Spas and Suites? And you tell me who would know or have known of me before I married Stewart?” I took a deep breath, crossed my arms over my chest, looked toward the windshield, and huffed. “I have more questions, but I’d like to start with those.”
Travis reached for my chin. His warm touch burned my skin. My neck immediately stiffened and I pulled away. “Do not fucking touch me!” I growled as my cadence slowed and tone deepened. “Ever. No matter what you’ve witnessed, or what you know, I’m still your employer. You’d be good to remember that.”
His hand came back and opened wide. I braced myself for a repeat of the slap I’d received years earlier; instead, what I saw was the universal sign of surrender. “Now that’s the bitch I know.” His sincerity came through as his tone morphed into one I couldn’t remember ever hearing. “What you said before… about sudden—nothing is sudden. My job has been to protect you since before the day I picked you up at that highfalutin’ academy. I told you that I was at the warehouse to protect you. It isn’t sudden. It didn’t just happen. Again, you’ve been in danger even before you were married.” He pounded the steering wheel. “Again, you’ve been a fucking bitch about it. Keeping track of you without the help of your goddamned phone has been a royal pain in my ass. Thankfully, Dr. Conway’s car has a GPS tracker; otherwise, who knows what could have happened this morning.” His dark eyes bore through me. “Get it through that pretty little head of yours. None of this is fucking sudden!”
“Next time, I’ll say ready, set, go. Will that work for you?”
I stared at this man’s profile. I’d known him for over a decade, but I’d never really looked at him. If I were to be honest that was because he scared me, even more than Stewart. Perhaps it was because with Stewart, from the beginning, I’d felt a small semblance of power. It wasn’t much, but even with what he made me do, I felt that part of him cared. I never had that feeling from Travis. From the first time I saw him, when he picked me up at the academy and brought me to the apartment, I had the feeling I was an annoyance, someone he’d rather do without. And then there was the creepy predator feeling: the one that gave me goose bumps and made my stomach lurch. Hell, just the other day he’d admitted to watching me have my brains fucked out by all the different men. He’d also admitted to wanting his turn. We both knew how that had turned out the first time.
Lost in my own train of thought, I asked, “Travis? Were you there, at the warehouse, or were there always cameras?”
He didn’t look my way; his eyes fixed on the road. “I was there.”
“Every time?”
“Almost. I wasn’t there the last time. Mr. Harrington had just… I couldn’t leave him.”
“The time before? The first time Stewart wasn’t… were you?”
“Yes.”
I inhaled deeply, thinking about that. “Why?” I asked with genuine curiosity.
“It’s my job. Mr. Harrington had the contract with those men: I didn’t. I was there to make sure things didn’t get out of hand. I was upstairs and watched through a closed-circuit network. The other men didn’t even know I was there.”
“Closed-circuit—like cameras? Did it record?”
“No. Mr. Harrington wouldn’t allow that. It was part of the do-not-disclose. The friends wouldn’t have allowed that either. As you can imagine, many of them have wives and careers. They didn’t want to have their pastime come back on the six o’clock news.”
“But,” I questioned, “you said you had video? I heard the audio.”
“I recorded it on my own, with my phone. I saved it all to flash drives.”
Resting my elbow against the window, I stared out toward the road, my eyes wide open, yet seeing nothing. “Why did you record it? Did Stewart know?”
“He didn’t. I didn’t start doing it until Mr. Harrington began to get sick, and I did it for insurance.”
“Blackmail.”
“Insurance.” His volume rose. “Yours and mine.”
“If there was no evidence, why would I need insurance?”
His dark eyes looked my direction for the first time since the beginning of this conversation. “Tell me that you’re fucking listening. Tell me you understand what’s happening.”
“I’m listening. I don’t understand one goddamned thing! I don’t know why all of a sudden you feel this obligation to protect me. I don’t know who those other men were or are. As you know, Stewart made sure of that. And I don’t know why you think I’m suddenly in danger.”
Again with the jerky driving. This time, we pulled onto the shoulder of 95 as gravel and rocks pummeled the underbody of the SUV, as we came to an abrupt stop. My body flung forward only to be pulled back by the restraint of the seatbelt.
“Nothing is sudden,” his voice was uncharacteristically animated. “Maybe you are just a dumb cunt. Maybe I overestimated—”
Interrupting, my gray eyes glared as I spoke over him. “I’m the dumb cunt?! You don’t fucking speak in complete sentences. How about you start? How about you actually tell me more about this mysterious underground of Harrington Spas and Suites? And you tell me who would know or have known of me before I married Stewart?” I took a deep breath, crossed my arms over my chest, looked toward the windshield, and huffed. “I have more questions, but I’d like to start with those.”
Travis reached for my chin. His warm touch burned my skin. My neck immediately stiffened and I pulled away. “Do not fucking touch me!” I growled as my cadence slowed and tone deepened. “Ever. No matter what you’ve witnessed, or what you know, I’m still your employer. You’d be good to remember that.”
His hand came back and opened wide. I braced myself for a repeat of the slap I’d received years earlier; instead, what I saw was the universal sign of surrender. “Now that’s the bitch I know.” His sincerity came through as his tone morphed into one I couldn’t remember ever hearing. “What you said before… about sudden—nothing is sudden. My job has been to protect you since before the day I picked you up at that highfalutin’ academy. I told you that I was at the warehouse to protect you. It isn’t sudden. It didn’t just happen. Again, you’ve been in danger even before you were married.” He pounded the steering wheel. “Again, you’ve been a fucking bitch about it. Keeping track of you without the help of your goddamned phone has been a royal pain in my ass. Thankfully, Dr. Conway’s car has a GPS tracker; otherwise, who knows what could have happened this morning.” His dark eyes bore through me. “Get it through that pretty little head of yours. None of this is fucking sudden!”
