SOMETHING ISN’T RIGHT.
And it hasn’t been right for days now. The climate of the house is off. Tense.
Jett is hovering more.
Kayne is grumpier than usual.
And their new house guest has done nothing but put us all on edge. Especially Jenna. He seems to be fixated on her. She’s the only one he requests, and every time he does, we end up hiding out in a nook in the library so she can lick her wounds. I beg her to stop going to him, but she just keeps insisting that it’s her job. She should be able to handle it. I don’t know what she’s trying to prove. And I don’t know why Jett won’t intervene. But I’m close to taking matters into my own hands. I can’t just stand by and watch someone I care about be hurt the same way I was. Not when she has a choice.
Jenna doesn’t seem to understand just how important free will is. And I don’t want her to learn that lesson the hard way. After it’s already been taken away.
I heard a woman screaming a few nights ago, and after interrogating each and every one, the girls swear it wasn’t them. I badgered Jenna the hardest, but those big green, innocent eyes have me believing it wasn’t her. When I asked Jett about it, he shrugged it off, claiming he had no idea what I was talking about. But I heard it. Loud and clear, and I swear she was screaming Kayne’s name.
I know I shouldn’t stick my nose where it doesn’t belong, but my instincts are clamoring. Something isn’t right, and I have to find out what it is.
So I’ve been stalking Jett, following him around the house as stealthily as possible. If there’s one thing I learned from my father, it’s how to sneak around. I was his biggest secret, and he knew how to keep it that way.
For the last two days, Jett has been disappearing into an obscure client room on the third floor several times a day. It’s located on the far end of Mansion, removed from busy foot traffic. I watch from a distance in the long, dark hallway with purple carpet and hand-blown chandeliers as he unlocks the door and slips quietly inside. My curiosity has gotten the best of me, so I boldly tiptoe up to the door and press my ear against it. What’s in there? I have to know.
The wood is thick. Solid, so I can barely hear a thing. But I’m determined to prove my suspicions right. Something is very wrong.
There are muffled voices, of that I’m sure. And one definitely sounds like a female’s. I listen for a while, desperate to make out anything I can of their conversation. It’s futile, though. The oak is just too damn thick. Stupid old house. Just as I’m about to give up, the hinges squeak and I come face to face with a startled, and frankly peeved, Jett. I get a second-long glance into the room before he slams the door.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he hisses.
“Snooping. What do you think you’re doing? Who is that? Why is she in there? Is it a new girl? Is that who was screaming the other night?” Jett slaps his hand over my mouth and pushes me up against the wall.
“Shhhh . . . She’s no one.” My eyes widen. I know all too well what that means.
Jett removes his hand after a few heated, pulse-pounding moments. Every organ in my body droops with disappointment.
“Tell me what’s going on.” It’s not a request, it’s a demand.
“What’s going on has nothing to do with you.” It’s the first time Jett has ever honest and truly chastised me. The reprimand stings, but it doesn’t dissuade me.
“If there is a girl being held against her will in there, it has everything to do with me.”
Jett exhales restlessly. “London.” His tone is firm but soft.
“Jett, tell me. Things aren’t right. They haven’t been right for days. I thought it was just me after everything that happened, but it’s not. You’re tense, Kayne is tense, and look at what’s happening with Jenna. Everything feels like it’s unraveling.”
“It’s not unraveling. At least not yet,” he cryptically testifies.
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing,” he doesn’t clarify.
“Who’s in there?” I press again. I have to know.
Jett stares me down, conflicted. A war of contention battling in his blue-green eyes.
“She’s Kayne’s,” he finally discloses.
“What?”
“She belongs to Kayne,” he reiterates slowly, to aid in my comprehension.
Realization hits me in the face like a sucker punch.
“She’s a slave?” My voice elevates three octaves.
That sparring look in his eyes tells me everything I need to know.
“Why does Kayne need a sex slave?” I hyperventilate. “He has a whole house full of women he can fuck. Who will do anything he asks. He has me.”
Jett grimaces. He doesn’t like that factoid one bit, but it’s the truth.
“It’s complicated,” is his pathetic explanation.
“Then un-complicate it,” I demand, tears welling in my eyes. “After everything. After knowing my past. Knowing what Alistair did to me, you’re condoning this?”
Heart-wrenching does not begin to describe how I feel.
“London.” Jett grabs my arms and pins me to the wall. “There are things happening under this roof that are beyond your understanding.”
Beyond my understanding? Did he just insult my fucking intelligence? I understand just fucking fine.
“What things?” I clench my jaw, indulging in my anger.
“I can’t tell you, but you have to trust me.”
“You know how hard trust is for me, Jett. Especially after finding out what I just did. I’m not even sure I know who you are.”
Jett’s pretty aqua eyes flash with something distressing and hurtful.
“I’m exactly the man I was the first day you met me. I’m exactly the man who pursued you, and protected you, and cares about you. I will always be that man.” He shakes me lightly. “And right now, I’m protecting and caring about the woman behind that door, too.”
Protecting and caring about her? “Are you both fucking her?” I spit.
Jett rolls his eyes, annoyed. “You are misinterpreting what caring and protecting means.”
“Then why don’t you clarify,” I seethe. “Because I’m having a difficult time trying to understand.” How could he do this? Betray me? Betray that girl? He’s done nothing but preach about freedom of choice, yet here he is conspiring with Kayne.
Everything I feel for him is suddenly in question.
Who is Jett, really? What is his endgame?
Jett expels a deep, unsettled breath before pressing his forehead to mine. I know he sees the doubt swirling in my eyes.
“Do you trust me, London?” he asks simply.
“I did up until five minutes ago,” I profess.
“I’m asking you to not give up on that trust. To have everything we’ve been through the last few months outweigh the last few minutes. I need your trust now more than ever. Now more than I ever will,” he actually pleads.
“You don’t know what you’re asking me.” I fight to keep my voice resilient.
“Yes, I do. I know exactly what I’m asking you. I’m asking you to be there for me the same way I am for you, and when the time is right, I’ll tell you everything. If what we’ve been through matters at all. If I matter at all, you’ll do this. You’ll trust me with no questions asked.”
“You’re asking me to go on blind faith?” Does he have any idea who he’s talking to?
“Blind faith.” He captures my face sternly. Severely. Almost alarmingly.
What Kayne and Jett are doing goes against everything I fled from. Escaped from. He must know that. He must know what he’s asking me to do is nearly impossible.
“London, please.” Jett kisses me zealously. Passionately. Downright desperately. “I don’t want to lose you over this. We’ve come too far, and there’s too much at stake to turn back now.” Jett continues to kiss me urgently, over and over again. It’s a plea I can’t resist. Or deny. I grab his wrists and kiss him back, our tongues dueling as my head and my heart engage in an epic battle.
“Don’t make me regret this.” I sink my nails into his skin. “Don’t make me fucking regret trusting you, Jett.”
“Little bird.” He presses his entire body against mine. “When this is all over, regret will no longer exist in your vocabulary. I’m going to give you everything you never knew you needed, and all the things you’ve been too afraid to wish for.”
I soften under his formidable hold and righteous vow. The man could melt an icicle in the dead of winter with just his fiery words.
“Trust me,” he hums, hypnotizing me. “Sometimes things are not always what they seem.”
“That’s what scares me.”
“You have nothing to be afraid of as long as you’re with me,” he promises righteously.
I hope so. I have put my extremely fragile life in his hands. An infancy life I have only owned for a few short days.
“Can I meet her?” I request boldly.
Jett frowns. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Kayne wants her isolated.”
“She’s going to go crazy all alone,” I press.
“She not alone. She has me. And Kayne. Between the two of us, we keep her busy.”
I raise a dubious eyebrow as I inspect the closed door opposite us. “What’s she like?”
“Feisty. Reminds me of someone else I know.” He winks.
I stare forlornly at the door. Too many bad memories to count rush back. Endless hours locked away, objectified by the person who was supposed to love me, a sex pawn to utilize for favors and bribes. Years and years of emotional torment.
“How is she handling Kayne?”
Jett gazes up at the ceiling thoughtfully. “They’re still getting acquainted.”
“Acquainted?”
“She had a hard time submitting at first, but I think she’s finally coming around. She’s. . . .” He blows out some hot air. “Important to him. As crazy as that must sound right now.”
Important to him? Then why the fuck is he holding her captive? I try to wrap my head around the obscure information.
“Crazy doesn’t begin to cover it.” I twist my lips disapprovingly.
“So . . . are we all on the same crazy train?” Jett asks delicately.
I nod tentatively. I may not like it, but I’ll get on board. Blind faith, right? Whoever would have thought me of all people would buy into such a thing? The eternal pessimist.
“Good. And just to err on the side of caution, let’s keep this conversation to ourselves. The less people who know the better, okay?”
“Yes, Jett.” I press my lips together condescendingly.
He narrows those reflective eyes. “Brat.”
“Sometimes.”
“I like when you’re bratty. It means I get to spank you.”
“How often does Kayne’s pet get spanked?” I despise using the word pet.
“She’s his kitten,” he corrects. “And enough. And, if you’re not careful, I’ll bend you over my knee right here, right now, and show you how your owner handles it when you misbehave.”
“You’re my owner now?” I coquettishly challenge.
“I’ve always been your owner. From the very first moment you walked into this house.”
If any other person professed that, I’d shrink away. But when Jett says it, I feel empowered. I feel wanted. I feel protected. I experience all these foreign elations even under the grimmest circumstances. If that’s not true ownership, I don’t know what is.
“Now go on. Get out of here.” He gestures with his blond head. “Go misbehave so I can take care of you later,” he orders, his words dripping with sexual innuendo.
I glance at the door one last time.
“Don’t worry, robin. I’ll take care of her, too. And everyone else in this house.”
I lock eyes with Jett. “I’m holding you to that.”
He smiles confidently, his pearly white incisors visible. “When will you learn? I-run-shit.”
I mirror his expression. “Maybe tonight, when you show me exactly what happens when I misbehave.”
His gaze darkens. “I can’t fucking wait for that.”
Me neither.