I woke up the next morning with a head full of disorientation and momentary lapse in panic before I remembered why I was blindfolded. The return of the previous night’s memories had my eyes widening behind the strip of fabric.

I reached for the space behind me.

“M?”

I knew even before my fingers grazed cool sheets that he wasn’t there.

The room felt empty.

Silent.

Crushing.

I willed myself not to cry as I liberated my first view of the room. It swam with the milky hue radiating from the windows on the other side of an ocean of space. I blinked to clear my vision, part of me hoping he would still be there somewhere, but knowing he wasn’t.

I told myself it was better this way. I shouldn’t see him, that seeing him would ruin the illusion of him I had in my head. This was better. I’d had the most amazing night, the best for my first time with a man who expected nothing, who had asked for nothing. That’s all I could ask for.

Nevertheless, him leaving without a word, without even a last kiss made my heart hurt. It made my chest heavy with the knowledge that my first time was with a stranger I never even had a conversation with, who I hadn’t even seen.

I cursed my nerves. Why had I been so stupid? Why hadn’t I sucked it up and let him remove the damn blindfold?

Part of me remained convinced I’d done the right thing. But the other part hated my cowardice.

Well, there was nothing for it, I decided. It was over and I would never see him. It was something I had to live with.

Accepting the facts, I found my slip. It was placed carefully over the foot of the bed, the shimmering white almost lost on the solid white of the duvet.

I pulled it on and padded to the door. I hadn’t been given instructions on what happened after. I had no idea what I was supposed to do.

“Hello?”

I felt stupid, but I wasn’t leaving the room in just a slip.

Something clicked behind me. It sounded so much like a gun being cocked that I spun to face it, curtain this whole thing was a scam and they were about to dispose of me, but a rectangular gap had opened in the wall and Louisa stood on the other side.

She offered me a brilliant smile. “There she is.” Ice pick heels cracked as she crossed the threshold and made her way to me in a dramatic sashay. “You, my darling pet, should be very proud of yourself. You have set the bar for every girl who ever will be or ever has been. You broke the record.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about snagging yourself a fine piece of dick. I hope he was worth it.”

I still had no idea what she was talking about, but it didn’t matter. She looped a thin arm through mine and propelled me in the direction of the hidden door.

“I have your clothes laid out for you,” she went on. “Get dressed and then I’ll take you to see Mr. Murray, who has your cut.”

Spurred, I ducked into the bathroom where Louisa had hung my clothes on hangers on the pegs behind the door. I dressed quickly, splashed some water on my face and combed damp fingers through my hair.

I looked like hell. My neatly done makeup was smudged in thick, black rings around my eyes. My hair needed a brush. I reminded myself of Frankenstein’s wife. But those were things that could be dealt with at home after a long, hot shower.

Louisa was waiting for me when I emerged. She gave me a toothy grin and motioned me in the direction of the auction room, but we stopped just after the stairs and knocked lightly on a door.

The man who answered could have been someone’s uncle with kind eyes and a genuine smile. He waved me inside.

“Ms. Thornton, it’s a pleasure. Please.”

I took the seat he offered me and waited for him to round the desk to his. Both hands were folded on top.

“How are you?”

I shrugged. “I’m all right, thank you.”

His smile widened. “Excellent. Excellent. You had a pleasant evening?”

I lost my virginity to a stranger. How did one classify that as a pleasant evening?

But I nodded. “It was fine.”

A few seconds of awkward silence passed between us.

“Well,” he drummed once on the table with his fingertips and sat back. “I’m sure you have places to be so I won’t keep you.”

From within a drawer, he extracted two envelopes. One was held out to me, and my heart clapped against my ribs. My fingers trembled when I reached to accept it.

I wasn’t sure I was supposed to open it there. Was it considered rude?

“Go ahead,” Mr. Murray urged with a grin. “Everyone does it.”

Decorum vanished and I ripped into the soft packet. My heart thumped between my ears in anticipation and uncertainty. I drew out the slip of paper nestled inside.

“Oh my god...”

All the sounds in the world dissolved to nothing but a chaotic rush of blood humming in my head.

“Is this...?”

“All yours,” he finished.

“All of this?”

Even to my own ears, my voice was a high pitched shrill of someone barely keeping herself contained.

“All,” Mr. Murray replied.

I had never seen so many numbers in a single place. I hadn’t even thought it was possible, yet I held the proof in my hands.

“Oh my god!” I choked again. “I made this just last night?”

Mr. Murray nodded. “Forty percent of one million from the auction. Plus fifteen thousand, six hundred for six hours.”

“Oh my...”

I stuffed the check back into the envelope and crammed it into my purse; I couldn’t look at it anymore. Not without wanting to throw up. The whole room had gone fuzzy. I couldn’t breathe.

“Ms. Thornton?”

A cold glass of water was pressed into my hands. I guzzled down half, bathed in the rest, but it helped.

“Did ... did you say one million?” I didn’t wait for his confirmation. “Why?”

Mr. Murray twisted the second envelope between his hands. “Some are simply generous.”

That wasn’t it. No normal, sane person paid that much for sex, not even virgin sex. Something had to be wrong with him.

“The man who ... who...”

“Paid for your time, yes?” Mr. Murray prompted.

“Do you know him? Is he ... safe?”

The man laughed as if the very idea was ridiculous.

“Our members are highly screened, Ms. Thornton. Their process is even more rigorous than the one we did for you.”

“I’m sorry. I just ... I wanted to thank him.” And see him again, but I wasn’t going to tell Mr. Murray that.

Mr. Murray squinted at me from across his immaculate desk. “You didn’t recognize him?”

That stopped me.

“Recognize? Why would I—?”

Realizing he’d made some kind of error, he shook his head. “I just mean it’s such a small city. People cross paths in the most unlikely places.”

I hoped not. God, if I ran into anyone I knew in that place, if anyone ever recognized me, I would ... I didn’t even know what I would do. I would die. I would dig a hole and bury myself in it. I couldn’t even stomach it.

“Did he say he recognized me?”

“No!” The drawer was opened and the letter was dropped back into it, and sealed. “Not at all. It was simple curiosity. But I think we’re done here. I just need you to sign here,” he pushed a piece of paper over to me with a pen. “It’s just to clear up that you were given your payment and you were satisfied.”

I signed and slid it all back to him. But I couldn’t shake the feeling rattling around inside me, a brewing of unease that trumped the glow of euphoria from receiving that check. Only I knew I couldn’t push him. He was already on his feet and moving towards the door.

“Mr. Murray, I know this is going to sound unorthodox, and I’m sure it goes against policy, but if the gentleman who I spent time with happens to come back, or you happen to talk to him and he asks, I don’t mind if you give him my number. I would appreciate it.”

Something like regret flicked over his lined features, and I knew what his answer was going to be before he opened his mouth.

“I’m sorry, but our policies are in place for a reason. He can request another meet, but—”

“He can do that?”

Mr. Murray nodded. “If he wishes to see you again, we can arrange for another meet.”

“How does that work?”

“He puts in the request. We call you and see if you’re interested. If so, we will arrange for a meeting here.”

I hesitated on my next question, not convinced it wouldn’t get shot down. But the need to know was too great.

“The gentleman, is he a regular? Have you seen him before?”

I had to know if this was something he did often, buying girls at auction and spending the night with them. It wasn’t my business, and I knew I sounded like some love-sick stalker but I needed to know.

Mr. Murray pursed his lips. “I’m not at liberty to discuss such matters. However, I can assure you I have never met him before last night.”

It was ridiculous how much that comforted me. I knew there was nothing stopping him from coming back to find a girl with experience, a girl who didn’t cry afterwards. And that was his right. He hadn’t made me any promises.

After thanking Mr. Murray, I left the auction house. I didn’t see Louisa and I wondered if I ever would. She’d done her part. She prepped me and stayed as moral support. She was probably long gone.

It wasn’t until I was standing in the driveway that I realized I had no way of getting home. Louisa had brought me in a town car, but I was alone now.

I called a cab and waited, watching the play of autumn through the trees swaying over my head. The few leaves clinging on for dear life shivered in the crisp morning breeze. The sun turned the brown and orange transparent, giving off the illusion of standing inside a pumpkin. It made me feel like Cinderella.

Cinderella with four hundred fifteen thousand six hundred dollars just sitting at the bottom of her purse.

I wanted to take it out and look it over again. I wanted to take a picture of it. I wanted to huddle on the porch and cry. That money was the solution to so many problems. I could pay my tuition. I could finally catch up on my bills. I could move to a better apartment. It was a heady and surreal sensation wielding such freedom. Not once in all my life had I ever owned more than five hundred dollars to my name at any given time. Now, I had enough to do just about anything I wanted.

I couldn’t suck in enough air. I pressed my eyelids together and basked in the beautiful morning.

Only to have it shattered by the tinkling of flutes — my mother’s ring tune.

Seeing her name on the screen was a reminder that I had to go over for Sunday dinner in four hours. I’d nearly forgotten.

“Hey Mom.”

“Gabrielle, I’ve been calling you all morning. Where have you been?”

I was tempted to tell her I was working, but considering what I was really doing, calling it working made me feel dirty.

“Studying,” I decided to tell her. “Is everything all right?”

“Perfectly. I’m just calling to see if you wouldn’t mind parking on the road tonight. David thinks it would just be simpler.”

There was nothing simple about it. The road from the house was almost ten miles in the dark.

“Maybe I shouldn’t come,” I decided, stomach jittering with nerves and anger.

“Don’t be like that.” Mother’s sigh was drenched in annoyance. “You’ll just upset David. Don’t make this one of your things. Your car is unsightly. What would the neighbors think? David has a reputation to maintain. We all do.”

Then buy me a Lamborghini, I wanted to snap. Then maybe David’s precious reputation wouldn’t be in jeopardy.

But I didn’t. I swallowed the words like poison. Letting them kill me rather than ever spill into the world.

“How am I supposed to get there if I leave my car?”

“Don’t be difficult, Gabrielle. It’s a short walk.”

My mother, who hadn’t walked anywhere a day in her life, was no doubt judging the distance based on the length it took to drive. She probably couldn’t even find the house from the road on foot, even though it was a single stretch of dirt.

“Can I skip this one?” I asked. “I have a lot to study for and—”

“You’ll have to ask David, Gabrielle. You know how he feels about families on Sundays.”

But I’m not family, I wanted to point out. I’m a hindrance you created. The only reason David even tolerated my filth into his home was because I had something he wanted, because I was his property and he wanted to keep an eye on what he believed was his; he couldn’t risk not reminding me of my purpose and accidentally giving me hope.

Not attending was worse. There was never a good excuse short of hospitalization. It was always followed by a week of sitting on pins and needles terrified of what he might do to make me pay.

I was a performing circus monkey no matter what.

But I promised Mother I would attend and I would park on the road, away from the house so the neighbors almost twenty miles away through dense forestry wouldn’t see it parked outside the door.

The logic of that solution completely eluded me. People would see it more clearly on the road opposed to in the driveway, but I knew neighbors weren’t the real reason for the new change. I’d done something that had displeased him.

This was my punishment.

My cab arrived. The tall, thin Asian man knuckled his cap higher on his brow and squinted up at the estate through the window of the passenger side door. He didn’t ask, but I could see the question in his dark eyes when our gaze met in the rear-view mirror.

I settled against the rough leather and rattled off my address along with the route I wanted him to take.

There were two ways back to my apartment and only one would cost a small fortune. Even as it stood, I mentally matched the amount in my account with the escalating meter and realized I didn’t have enough for the full trip, but I would be close enough to walk the rest of the way.

He dropped me off four blocks from my building with an annoyed twist of his lips, but the moment he drove off, I turned off my regular path home and started in the direction of my other bank; having that check tucked away in my purse was causing havoc on my anxiety, not to mention my paranoia. I could have sworn everyone knew how much I was carrying and what I’d done to get it. I may as well have been holding a neon sign telling people to rob me.

Ridiculous. I knew that, but I still couldn’t help the nagging little voice wondering if that guy standing idly across the street on his phone hadn’t been hired by David to follow me. What if he knew? What if he was talking to David at that very moment, telling him what I’d done and where I’d been? Or worse, what if it had gotten back to him what I’d done? What if one of his friends had been at the auction? What if David himself had been there?

I couldn’t breathe. The world had shaken itself of oxygen and I was dying. I could feel the claws of dread closing around my lungs, turning my vision blurry.

Oh God, please...

The man suddenly straightened. His face broke into a wide grin as a pretty brunette jogged from my side of the street to his, also holding a phone to her ear. Both devices are hurriedly put away when the two came together in a passionate kiss.

I was nauseous and trembling all over by the time they walked away, arm in arm. My skin clung to fabric despite the chill. Hot and cold waves washed over me until I was sure I was about to faint. The world tipped and shivered around me in muggy ripples. I would have cried, except I didn’t have time. I needed to get the check deposited and I had a dinner to get ready for.

The bank was one I opened using my new identity, the one I kept in the safety deposit box in that very bank, just in case. It had cost a small fortune and nearly five years of under the table work on top of the jobs David did know about, but I eventually saved enough to pay a guy in my psych class to make me a new future, the same guy who ultimately told me about the auction, but he’d warned me not to use the new ID there.

“They are rigid as fuck, man.” His eyes had bulged and he’d shaken his head as if the very idea was horrific. “They don’t mess around with that shit. Open a bank, or something. Something small.”

So, I had. The first test of authenticity had been to open the account. It had passed, but not until after I’d sweated through my blouse.

The bank was three blocks from my apartment, close enough for convenience, but far enough that David wouldn’t suspect anything. So far, he hadn’t and now, I had money and a fresh identity to start over in eight months. I just needed to wait until after I got my diploma. Then David and his stupid contract could go straight to hell.

The teller took one look at the amount on the check and promptly called her manager, who assured me it was quite common when the amount was so high. The check was verified while I stood there, praying to God they didn’t phone the police.

Nearly fifteen minutes later, my dusty little account had more money in it than it had seen since its creation and I had a small printout as proof of what I’d done burning a hole in my palm. I read it and reread it eight times before balling it up and tossing it into the trash, ignoring the little voice whining I keep it as a memento; the last thing I needed was for David to accidentally find it somehow.

I went home cocooned in a buttery hue of euphoria. My fingertips were vibrating, the nerves shot. I kept rubbing my thumb over them, hypnotized by the sensation. A giddiness tickled the inside of my belly, the reaction of a fizzy soda pop bubbling up my chest.

I wanted to laugh hysterically. I wanted to scream and dance like Snoopy. I wanted to do something crazy like rip off my skin, the only thing holding me, and run wild. But I did none of those things. I bit my lip and kept walking, not meeting anyone’s eyes in fear that they might see the brewing madness.

I was nearly free.

I was so close.

God, I could taste it like cotton candy dissolving on my tongue, leaving behind a lingering sweetness. 

I could buy a new car, I thought. Nothing flashy or expensive, but David would ask where I got the money and I couldn’t afford to have him digging into my accounts and thinking I’d somehow stolen it, possibly even from him, or worse. He’d find a way to take it and I couldn’t let that happen.

That only meant one thing, I couldn’t let him think anything had changed. That meant pretending I was still struggling. Just the way he liked it.

I hated it.

I’d worked hard for that money.

I’d sold my pride and dignity for it.

I’d earned it.

But those things meant nothing. For as much as I had, David had more. He had power. I was no match against him. My life was complicated enough, hard enough. I didn’t need a war I had no hopes of winning. All I wanted was peace, a chance to be something more than just a mistake created by sin.

I wanted to breathe.

God, just once.

At the bottom of the turn leading to my parent’s estate, I killed the engine to my little piece of garbage, and climbed onto the neatly paved road, the last shred of concrete before the narrow trail of dirt winding to the steps of Thornton Manor.

It was David’s way of preserving history.

His history.

“They didn’t have roads when the Thornton family built their first home right here out of wood they cut down from this very forest.”

I’d heard the story so many times I could practically recite it in my sleep.

With the change of season, as fall slowly slipped into winter, the sun slid behind the heavy trees. Its descent darkened my path much faster the deeper I descended. Day creatures scurried for cover as the predators emerged from their holes. I could hear them rustling around me, stirring. I tried not to shudder.

I’d never been a fan of the wilderness. Something about hunters and prey that always prickled my skin with goose bumps. The chilly winds didn’t help. Even with all the trees and layers I’d pulled on, the elements found ways to crawl beneath and graze exposed flesh.

I missed the security of my car.

I missed my apartment.

I missed being in bed with M.

The latter singed my cheeks with hot blood, but anything was better than wandering the wilderness alone at night, headed for a place I wouldn’t wish my worst enemy to visit.

I heard the roar of engine before lights pierced the gloom around me. Tires screamed as the car took a sharp curve behind me. I barely managed to dodge out of its path as it tore past at speeds no sane person should dare in the dark, down a narrow path that bent at random.

But the black beast missed me by mere inches. My heart clapped in my chest as I stood ankle deep in a puddle of dead leaves off the shoulder, watching the taillights blaze like dragon eyes.

Eric, I assumed.

But the car shrieked to a jolting stop that rattled the metal frame. Burnt rubber impregnated the air, evaporating the scent of pine and dirt. I gingerly climbed back onto the road and watched as the driver’s side door flew open and a figure stooped out.

“Gabby?”

Kieran.

He stalked towards me, seemingly filling up the entire path with the billowing of his coat around his ankles.

“What the devil are you doing walking around in the dark?”

He stopped inches from me. Always so close. Too close.

I hedged back a step.

“It’s a nice night,” I lied.

He jerked back. “A nice night? It’s freezing.”

Well, I couldn’t tell him I wasn’t allowed to bring my car up. I couldn’t tell anyone anything.

“It was nicer when I started,” I murmured.

“Well, get in.” He motioned towards his idling car. “I’ll drive you the rest of the way.”

“No!” I took a larger, more deliberate step away from him. “I’m fine. Really. Thank you.”

“It’s another fifteen minutes of walking,” he argued. “We’ll be there in two. Come on.”

I flinched when he reached for my elbow.

“Please ... don’t.”

I didn’t know how to tell him that being in that car could quite possibly be the last thing I ever did, especially if David or Cordelia ever saw me leaving it. God, the chaos it would cause, the madness. They would kill me, or worse.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

The quiet murmur ripped through me with the efficiency of serrated claws. I could almost feel it cutting into my soul.

“I know,” I whispered. “I just can’t.”

He sighed. “I’m not letting you walk there alone, so either you get in the car or I walk with you.”

I wanted to ask why he was doing this, why he was always doing this, why he always cared. He needed to stop. It was hard enough seeing him, being near him without feeling like I would die if I didn’t have him. But I couldn’t say any of that. I couldn’t risk my meltdown getting to David. I couldn’t risk Cordelia having something on me, to use against me. I couldn’t stomach it if she knew how badly I wanted Kieran. It would be just one more thing for her to lord over me. She wouldn’t pass up the chance to rub her impending marriage to Kieran in my face.

“Gabby?”

I sucked in a breath. “Okay,” I rasped out. “We can drive.”

He followed me to the passenger’s door and held it for me while I got in. The rich, warm interior enveloped me in a comforting embrace of leather and him. The intoxicating scent gripped me in its velvet clutches. A loving caress of memories I couldn’t shake.

It was that scent that had comforted me the night before, the thing that had lulled me into M’s arms. Its familiarity to Kieran had been the push I needed to relax into the role I needed to play. It was part of the reason I hadn’t wanted the blindfold removed. Behind my closed eyelids, it was Kieran touching me, kissing me, doing those amazing things to my body. I got through it all without throwing up or breaking down, because he had smelled like Kieran.

“What is that cologne?” I asked when Kieran got in behind the wheel.

He glanced at me. The lights from the dashboard glinted in his eyes.

“I’m not wearing one.”

I didn’t push. I’d made it awkward enough without bringing up how his scent turned me on. But I did wonder what kind of shampoo, or soap he used. Whatever it was that made me want to nuzzle into his neck and drown in him.

God, I was pathetic.

Hopelessly sad.

He was about to become my brother in law, my sister’s husband, the father of her children.

The very idea of Cordelia in bed with him, creating life made my insides ache like an open wound. I wanted to grab at my chest until I could reach in and tear out my own heart to make it stop.

“You okay?”

I wasn’t. My future was an elephant using my chest as a trampoline.

I wished it would just crush me already.

“Gabby?”

His fingers brushed my cheek in its path to push back locks of my hair. The contact nearly sent me clean out of my seat. My head slammed into the window with my violent wrenching to get away. The collision blurred my vision, sending stars sparking. It would have hurt if I could think; the side he’d touched blazed as if he’d tortured me with a white, hot poker.

“Jesus!” Kieran made as if to reach for me again, but seemed to think better of it.

“I’m sorry,” I blurted, tears of mortification burning in my throat. “God, I’m so stupid. I shouldn’t be here.”

“Hey!” He caught my elbow before I could throw myself out of the car and run. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have...” He released me quickly. “It’s my fault. Please. I won’t do it again.”

Breathing hard, I forced myself to return to my seat. Every muscle remained coiled for flight, but I sat.

Kieran pulled back to his side of the car without another word. We started moving, much slower than the corners he’d been taking to get to the house. I wondered what his hurry had been. Had he been anxious to see Cordelia? I couldn’t think of another reason, nor could I bear to ask and get that exact answer.

At the opening before the initial gates and the manor, I asked him to stop.

“We’re almost there,” he remarked.

I nodded, already undoing my belt and throwing open my door. “Thank you.”

I pitched myself out into the night and jogged the rest of the way to the door. I didn’t wait for Jameson to let me in when I threw myself against the doors and stumbled into the foyer. It was the first time in my life I let myself in like I actually had a right to.

Jameson appeared out of the shadows like some sinister being and regarded me with expected displeasure.

“Good evening, madam.”

I straightened. “Hello Jameson.”

“May I take your coat?”

I was still slightly out of breath when I undid the buttons and slipped out of the garment. Jameson took it with the tips of his fingers as if it were somehow filthy. I didn’t care. I needed to get away from the doors before...

The doors opened and Kieran walked in.

But unlike my intrusion, Jameson beamed in greeting. “Mr. Kincaid, a pleasure, sir. May I take your coat?”

I didn’t look at him. I stared at the small, unsteady hands dusting down the front of my skirt, giving it my whole focus as if I were dismantling a bomb.

My head lifted when clipped footsteps echoed off the walls. David entered the foyer. He looked from me to Kieran, and all the blood left my head.

“Kieran.” He stalked straight past me, hand extended. “You made it. Wonderful.” He drew back and his cold, dead eyes met mine again. “Did you arrive together?”

It was asked with a casualness that really should have meant nothing, but still managed to border on threatening.

“No!” I blurted. “I arrived first.”

It was technically true.

David looked me over and paused on the dirt coating my feet. “Did you walk here?”

I didn’t know what to say. He’d been the one to tell me to leave my car. How else did he think I would get there?

“Did you bring a spare pair?”

I hadn’t. I hadn’t even considered it. Despite the chill, the weather had been dry.

David sighed. “Well, hopefully you’ll remember better for next time. Remove your shoes.”

I dutifully slipped my flats off. The marble floor sent pinpricks of ice prickling up the bottoms of my feet, encasing them in ice. Jameson took them from me and left with them to some unknown location.

“Kieran.” David turned his focus to the silent figure behind me. “Let’s get you a drink.”

They left me standing there, with nowhere to go, except to follow like some lost puppy.

I claimed my window bench, comfortable being as far away as possible from the stunning wealth vomiting all over the room and the two men making idle chitchat over glasses of scotch. Neither one paid me any attention, leaving me free to melt into my own thoughts and the sweet memories of the previous night with M. I could feel myself growing warm the deeper I submerged and the more explicit the details became. My skin tingled in all the places his fingers had traced, all the places his lips had pressed. My core flexed with an anticipation I couldn’t deliver and rushed with a hot gush of something expelling from within in an amount that sent a jolt of panic through me.

It soaked into my panties, plastering the fabric to my mound, making me uncomfortably aware of how bare it was without the usual trimming of hair. I shifted, trying to dislodge, but it only rubbed harder against me.

Was it pee? Did I get my period? I’d been aroused before, but never had it leaked out of me as if I’d soiled myself.

It dawned on me slowly, like a wave on a lazy summer afternoon lapping at the shore.

Cum.

It was M’s cum.

The realization had me bolting to my feet, not entirely sure what the plan was from there, except the sticky moisture was no longer taunting me.

“Did you need something, Gabrielle?” David’s gaze found mine, annoyed at being interrupted.

I could only shake my head, my heart wedged in my throat.

“Would you like to have a seat?”

The taunt went completely over my head. All I could think was, I had a man’s release coming out of my body.

More hot liquid trickled free as if pleased by the thought and I nearly gasped as the amount slickened my inner thighs. I fought to contain the urge to press my knees together, to shift from foot to foot like a child who needed the washroom. More still, I resisted the temptation to glance at the other man in the room.

The heat quenched. I literally felt it plummet down the length of me to my feet. Its absence housed a chill that seized my lungs and paralyzed my heart. No amount of reasoning or explanation excused the reality of what I’d done. It made no difference that Kieran would marry my sister, or that I had absolutely no ties to him, no loyalties, no promises, I had been with another man. It was insanity, but the guilt nearly took me to my knees.

“I need the washroom,” I stammered, my voice tight even to my own ears.

Kieran rose to his feet as if I’d made some kind of request. He fastened the button on his blazer and faced David.

“I just remembered I have a call that I need to make. Can I borrow your office?”

David motioned him to go on, but kept me in my place with those icicle eyes.

Kieran strode out, leaving me alone with a man who relished in my torment.

“Are you not part of this family, Gabrielle?” he asked over the rim of his scotch. “I don’t understand why you always feel the need to put yourself in some corner while the rest of us are here, joining in on the conversation.”

I realized he wasn’t going to allow me to go. My need for the washroom would be used against me, twisted into a game he could use to bend me to his will.

This was normal.

This I could handle.

So long as he stayed where he was.

“I don’t want to get in the way,” I murmured.

David chuckled bitterly before a swallow. “A little too late for that, isn’t it?”

I said nothing, because there was nothing to say. Denial would only get me punished. Acceptance would get me punished. All I could do was stand there and pray someone walked in and distracted him before he worked himself out of resentment and into anger. There was no running from that.

Behind me, my purse jingled. A subtle ting of an arriving message. It was hardly loud enough for me to hear. David shouldn’t have heard it at all, but his eyes narrowed. His knuckles bled white around his glass.

“Do you have somewhere more important to be?”

I shook my head. “No.”

He rose and my spine stiffened. All the warmth of my blood pumping through my veins dissipated to an arctic blanket. Terror lodged in my chest, and he knew it. I could see the sick pleasure my fears gave him. I saw the dark glint of hunger in his eyes, the twisted glee as it moved over me, slower, with a deliberateness that made me sick to my stomach.

He started towards me, cutting miles of room into shreds with every stride. I wanted to back up, to run, but he was a wolf and he got off on the chase. He loved catching me. He loved twisting his hands into my hair and dragging me to my knees. Just the memory had my joints panging, had my scalp prickling.

“Aren’t you going to check?” he taunted, strolling past me with only a brush of his shoulder against mine.

His expensive cologne swirled around me, disturbing the air and making me choke on its oily richness. It reminded me of inhaling wax. It greased my throat and tongue until I couldn’t even swallow without tasting him.

“Let’s see who it is, shall we?”

It made no difference to me when he yanked open my purse and dug past the hairbrush, wallet, novel, keys, and loose change for my phone. I had no friends. I had no one who would text me, unless they had the wrong number or wanted money. Reading my messages would serve no purpose. In a small way, I would have smirked at his arrogant show of dominance, but then he opened the message and read it out loud.

“Hello, this is M, from last night.”

My world swirled in a blistering gale. My heart dropped into the pit of my stomach with a resounding splash that drenched the rest of me in icy waves. I had never wanted to snatch anything away more in my life. I wanted to rip the device from his cold, dirty fingers and hug it to my chest.

No! I wanted to snarl at him. You won’t take this from me. He’s mine.

“Who’s M and what happened last night, hmm?” David smirked at me as if reading my mind. “Are you fucking him?”

Heat swirled up into my face at the sound of that word on his tongue. Everything about it felt violating and wrong. I wanted to shower.

“Is this how you’re going to make your rent this month?” he pressed on, his voice a disgusting purr he only used when we were alone, when no one else could hear it and know just how revolting he really was. “Is he paying to get between your legs, to ram himself inside you?” His smirk twisted into rage laced revulsion. “How many others have there been?” Sharp, manicured nails bit into my jaw and yanked my face to his. The violent tear of flesh made me wince more than the wrenching of my neck. “Did you forget about our agreement, Gabrielle? Did you forget what you promised me? What did I tell you I would do to you if you ever fucked another man?” His fingers tightened until I cried out. “Did you fuck him? Did you let him spread you open and fill you with his cock over and over again?”

His hot, rancid breath melted the skin on my cheek. It racked over my lips, making me too aware of how close his were. The inch separating us wasn’t enough. 

“No,” I gasped, struggling not to struggle. “He’s in my study group. We were studying last night.”

The lie was too fluid, too seamless. I’d never tried to lie to David before. I knew I could never get away with it, and the punishment was never worth the risk. But I couldn’t tell him the truth, especially not that I’d slept with M. He would lose his mind.

“Let’s hope you’re not lying to me.” His lips mashed together with the sucking of his teeth. “I will know. I will find out, and when I do...” If possible, his grip grew even tighter, crushing my jaw. I tasted blood where my teeth were being shoved inward. I grabbed at his wrists, not to stop him, never to stop him, but gripping him to keep from being pulled completely against him. “I will have you taken from your bed and sold to my friends, and I have many, many friends, Gabrielle. All of whom love young, hot flesh and a tight cunt. They will use you until there is nothing left, but a great, big, saggy, bloody hole. And I can, because you agreed to it. You consented.” His leer broadened with my shaky inhale. “So, be a good girl, just like Daddy wants, hmm?”

I nodded quickly, needing air, needing space away from him, needing a toilet.

He released me with a shove that sent me teetering sideways. I barely caught myself on the back of the sofa. A sob caught in my chest that couldn’t make it up to my sore mouth. Tears blinded me, but I held them back, not allowing him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

The phone hit my abdomen, hard enough to leave a mark and knock the wind out of me before clattering to the floor. My purse was tossed to the ground next to his feet, it’s content spilling free across the afghan. He stepped over them and returned to his seat, to his scotch, to being the cold, aloof monster in his three-thousand-dollar suit.

I sank behind the sofa to gather my things, but mostly to gather myself. All I wanted to do was crawl under the clawed legs, curl into a ball and weep.

“Come sit here, Gabrielle.” David’s voice whipped through the room, finding me even in that moment of pain.

I snapped my eyes closed and prayed for it all to end already.

With my things gathered up, I shuffled to where he indicated and sat. I could feel him watching me, his stripping gaze relishing every moment of my agony.

My face felt swollen and bruised. There was an odd numbness to it that made me want to reach up and touch it, but didn’t dare. I had cuts on the insides of my mouth from where he had forced the skin against my teeth, and I was certain he’d loosened at least two teeth.

Kieran took that moment to return. His annoyance entered before he did, but he strode in. There were deep ridges between his eyes that mirrored the downward tilt of his mouth, but I didn’t stare too long. I turned my gaze to the ground and let my hair curtain as much of my face as I could manage.

“How did your call go?” David asked.

Kieran reclaimed his spot. “Uneventful. Thank you.”

I wanted to text M back. I wanted to beg him to meet me again, to take me again, to erase David’s touch and make me forget. I would do anything for another hour with him. I would pay any price. Maybe that made me desperate and starved for love, but I was. I was dying, slowly disintegrating inside for the one thing no one had ever given me my entire life. And while M hadn’t professed his undying love and devotion, he had given me kindness. He had shown me gentleness. Those were things I never thought I would ever feel from another person.

But could I ask for more? Could I allow myself another taste knowing the consequences? I knew David’s threats weren’t idle. I knew he would do it, and get away with it. I knew there wasn’t a single person on the entire planet who would notice my absence.

I had no friends. Not even acquaintances. David owned my apartment building. He had monthly dinners with the Dean of my school. He could dump me in a hole and I would simply vanish forever.

Plus, there was the agreement, the slip of paper promising him my body in exchange for the right to attend school and move out on my own. It wasn’t something I took seriously, or at least not nearly as seriously as I probably should have. I may not have been brave, but I wasn’t stupid. No court in the world would agree to such a load of bullcrap. Honestly, I would have liked to see him standing before a judge and trying to explain all the things he’d done. It wouldn’t happen. And that was the confidence I needed to make my escape. Once I left the country, he would be nothing but a bad memory.

My gaze went to my purse and the phone hidden inside. That tiny bit of plastic had in the flicker of a second become a whole window of endless possibilities. It had become freedom. A freedom that could ultimately get me killed, but I was twenty-two years old and I was done being scared. It was dangerous and reckless, but I needed more.

I needed contact.

I needed to feel human.

Cordelia stalked into the parlor on her towering heels, shattering my thoughts and disrupting my pain. I blinked and focused as the stunning blonde sashayed to Kieran and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Hello darling.” She purred before moving gracefully to David. “Hello Daddy.”

The word daddy made me want to vomit. I never wanted to hear it again where David was concerned. But I doubted he ever said those things to her. I doubted he threatened to have her kidnapped and raped if she ever slept with a man. Otherwise, she would have already been dead; Cordelia had been openly and shamelessly sexual since the age of sixteen. The number of times she’d been caught in the act was in the double digits. But there was never any shortage of the Thornton hypocrisy.

Cordelia finished greeting all the important people and turned.

Her gaze locked with mine, hers a brilliant blue of a summer afternoon. They widened in a tumults moment of stunned surprise. The lashes fluttered like the wings on a deadly, but beautiful butterfly. But I didn’t move. I didn’t even allow myself to breathe. I hovered in that place between wanting to bolt and wanting to remain perfectly still.

“Gabrielle.” Syrup dripped from the purr. It hit the air between us and immediately crackled with a thin coating of ice. “How lovely.”

I swallowed past the paste coating my tongue. “Hello Cordelia.”

There were razor blades in her smile. “You’re in my place.”

“What?” I was positive I hadn’t heard her properly.

Her chin nodded to the spot I held, the one David had told me to take, the one that now felt like I’d stupidly parked my butt in a pit of venomous snakes.

“Why don’t you sit here, Cordelia?” Kieran motioned to the other side of the same sofa, the one next to the armchair he commandeered every Sunday.

The smile dissolved from her face, and it was like watching a winter sun sink behind a thundercloud. Its light faded to annoyance.

“Why do you always seem to come to her defense, Kieran?”

My stomach tensed. My head jerked up to find David drilling painful promises into me with unblinking eyes.

He knows. Oh god, he knows.

I wasn’t sure what he knew or how much, because there was nothing to know, because there was nothing between Kieran and me, but he had me pinned to the seat writhing with terror.

“It’s not about defending her,” Kieran chimed in. “It’s about you sitting down instead of getting upset over a spot. You have to admit you’re too old to be so petty.”

My lungs sucked in a breath at the subtle implication in his words and the war he was about to start. I wondered if he knew what he was doing, if he cared.

“Petty?” Cordelia mumbled, her tone suggesting he’d used a word she’d never heard before.

“It means childish,” Kieran explained smoothly. “It’s unattractive.”

I wished he would stop speaking. He didn’t realize it, but he was stabbing the hornet’s nest with a burning stick. To make matters worse, I was standing directly beneath it.

“Kieran is right,” David interjected. “It’s only a spot. We’re all adults here, aren’t we?”

Having no one on her side for once, Cordelia had no choice but to lower herself down on the cushion next to her father. She shot me a venomous sneer that sent a ripple of fear down my spine, but was easily overlooked, because it wasn’t the worst glare she’d ever given me.

Eric took that moment to waltz into the room, looking like he’d only just rolled out of bed. His hair resembled a startled porcupine around an unshaven face that still harbored lines from his pillow.

He stumbled into the room. Literally. His foot caught the carpet and he went sprawling across the floor in a crumpled heap of intoxicated limbs. The thud echoed through the room, and rattled down my spine.

His family made no move to offer assistance. Kieran did get to his feet as if considering the idea, but he remained in place with a firm set to his mouth.

“Did someone redo the room?” Eric flipped onto his side, the clumsy struggle of an upside-down turtle. “That chair wasn’t always there, was it?”

“There was no chair,” Cordelia muttered. “You’re drunk.”

Eric shoved to his feet. He swayed backwards a step before the momentum drove him forward to the vacant spot next to me. The whole sofa bounced with his hard drop onto the cushion. I came off my seat by a foot from the impact.

“God, it’s early,” Eric griped, rubbing at his temples.

“Rough night?” Kieran lowered himself back down.

“Triplets,” Eric said as if that made any kind of sense. “I was forced to use extra stamina.”

Eric wasn’t vindictive or cruel like Cordelia. Maybe he was incapable of it, or simply too lazy. But he was a leech, a drunken, womanizing slob who had never worked a day in his life, yet was given a seat on David’s company board for no other reason than because he was born a Thornton.

I wasn’t even sure he knew where the office was.

“Hello Father.” Eric grinned. “Looking remarkably more disapproving than usual, I must say. And sis.” He clicked his tongue at Cordelia. “Laying that war paint on a bit thick, aren’t you? Here’s a bit of advice I got from a gorgeous model in Milan, less is more, except in your case, I recommend a full face lift.”

Cordelia lost her cool façade and flipped her brother off.

Eric snickered. That was when he noticed me and blinked.

“Well, hello stranger, look at you sitting at the grown up’s table.”

“Can we cut the crap?” Cordelia barked. “Where’s Mom?”

“She’s coming.” David assured calmly, adding to the deceit that was my mother. “How is business, Kieran?” David redirected his attention to the man who had yet to get a commentary from Eric. “Has the lawyer had you sign over the last of your father’s business holding?”

Kieran nodded. “There’s a few more, but I have the majority of his ... special projects.”

His hesitation didn’t go unnoticed by anyone. I didn’t understand it, but David laughed as if they shared a secret. I didn’t know how I felt about that. I didn’t like the idea of Kieran having anything in common with that sadist.

“Walter had always had a certain kind of vision. You had to respect his uniqueness. You know,” David scooted closer to the edge of his seat. “He inspired me to find my own ... passions. Haven’t had a regret since.”

Kieran offered a tight lip smile, but made no comment.

David scratched at his jaw, visibly torn with whatever had his eyes narrowing deliberatively.

“Listen,” David clapped his hands together. “If you ever find yourself overwhelmed, I’d be more than willing to buy some of those contracts off you. I know you probably have a million other priorities and—”

“We can certainly discuss that,” Kieran broke in. “We can set up a meeting later this week.”

Light glimmered to life behind those empty eyes, the joys of a snake locating a clueless mouse. I didn’t know what the conversation was about, but whatever had that glee twisting David’s mouth couldn’t be good.

“I’m sorry I kept everyone waiting.” Mom strolled into the room in a body molding dress cinched at the waist by a thick, crimson belt that matched her pumps and lipstick. She smiled loosely, lazily like a sleepy cat. “Shall we make our way to the dining room?”

Everyone rose, except me. I remained until Eric’s back had disappeared around the corner and I was completely alone.

I closed my eyes and willed down the inexplicable need to burst into tears. Their unexplained appearance was testament to the mountain of stress crushing me; my breakdowns usually knew never to happen within those walls. My tears waited until I got home. Yet, the longer I sat there, inhaling everything I hated, the stronger my urge to run became. It drummed through my system in a reckless tempo that mirrored the hammering of my heart. Blood roared between my ears, silencing the rest of the world. I could feel myself drowning on my own pain. I could feel it squeezing the life from my lungs.

“Stop.” The plea croaked from my lips, but I nearly didn’t hear it. “Stop. Just stop. You can do this. It’s only an hour.”

But an hour felt like an infinity. The strain of those sixty minutes pulled at my very soul until I was teetering on the very brink of madness.

Salvation arrived with the retrieval of my phone. I dug it from my purse and pulled up the message from M.

It was exactly how David had read it — “Hello, this is M, from last night.”

I bit my lip as the warm ripple started in my belly and spread like honey through me. My heart raced with anticipation and a flicker of fear. The combination had my hands trembling and my words jumbling on my head. But I drew in breath, expanding my lungs to their max before I started typing.

Me: “Hi, I wasn’t sure I would hear from you again.”

I hit send and quickly put my phone on vibrate. It was tucked away in my pocket, not expecting an answer right away. But the moment I pushed to my feet, it buzzed against my hip.

I jolted and scrambled for it.

M: “How could I stay away? I already miss you.”

My heart skittered on my chest, an abrupt cease before galloping wildly. I didn’t know what to say in return. I’d never flirted before. The very concept terrified me, but I had to say something.

His next message arrived before I was done typing.

M: “I hope you don’t mind.”

I hurriedly erased what I’d written and started over.

Me: “No! Not at all. I asked Mr. Murray to pass along my number to you. I was hoping you would use it.” I hesitated on my next choice of words, the novelty making me stomach queasy. 

Me: “I missed you this morning.”

The moment I hit send, my face flooded with heat. My nerves jangled. I couldn’t believe I’d sent that to him.

This time, when it vibrated with his response, I couldn’t bring myself to check it, convinced he thought I was some clingy one-night stand with abandonment issues.

But the call was too great. The temptation hounded me to the door, begging me to take one peek at the message. It would be rude not to, I decided, reaching for my pocket.

M: “I’m sorry. I had an early meeting I couldn’t avoid, or we would still be in that room and I’d be making your toes curl the way they do when I kiss that spot on the inside of your thigh.”

I bit my lip at the imagery. My toes curled into the worn carpet.

Me: “I would have really liked that.”

His next message arrived on the heel of mine, making me think he’d been writing it the same time I was.

M: “Tell me honestly, how are you feeling? Did I hurt you?”

His concern was endearing. With just four, small words, he had made me feel wanted, cherished even. Was it any wonder I needed him?

“You were wonderful,” I wrote back. “I’ve never felt anything like that.” Which he knew, I reminded myself. “Thank you for everything.”

“Thank me in person,” was his response. “Meet me. I need to see you again.”

I hesitated.

Not because I didn’t want to, but because I did. Because I wanted it so much.

But I wasn’t stupid.

I wasn’t so blind that I didn’t notice the chasm looming before me.

M, for all the wonder and freedom that he was, was still just a man, a man with a substantial amount of wealth, enough that he could slap down over a million dollars on some girl for one night. But did that mean he felt entitled to me? Did he think I owed him my body forever, and that he could continue using me until he felt the amount was paid?

I didn’t want meaningless sex. I didn’t want to become someone’s plaything. Maybe asking Mr. Murray to give M my number hadn’t been the best decision, especially if he thought I would continue sleeping with him because he’d paid for me.

I was overthinking it. I knew I was being irrational. It wasn’t as if I could even be with him any other way, not without risking David finding out.

M: “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push.”

I closed my eyes against the new message. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to tell him without sounding like I was an insecure lunatic.

So, I did the only thing I could think of, I wrote back.

Me: “No, you didn’t. I’m at my parent’s house for dinner. Can I message you later?”

The little time stamp next to his replay indicated it only took him a minute to reply, but it felt like hours. The unexplainable dread in my stomach made every second stretch.

I wasn’t even sure why I was worried about his answer. I hadn’t said anything that might upset him, yet I honestly expected him to call me a tease and tell me not to message him ever again.

Crazy, but my self esteem issues were at their max volume, it seemed.

M: “Of course. Enjoy your evening, and I look forward to hearing from you again.”

I stored the device back into my pocket and remembered for the first time where I was. The realization struck me with crippling horror.

I’d been there too long.

Everyone would wonder.

They would ask questions I wouldn’t have answers to.

God, why had I answered? I should have waited until I could dedicate my attention to it.

To him.

David was going to be furious.

I snatched up my purse and sprinted from the room. My bare feet made no sound at all as I crossed the corridors in the familiar direction of food and my family.

Dinner had started.

No one had even noticed my absence until the leg on my chair hit the table’s and jittered everyone’s wine goblets.

Conversation rolled to a slow stop. Heads pivoted in my direction.

I winced. “I’m sorry.

“Well, at least you arrived,” Cordelia muttered, dabbing delicately at the corners of her lips with a cloth napkin. “What would dinner be without our resident—”

I never got to hear the end of that when Kieran’s phone took that moment to buzz, distracting her.

“Oh for goodness sakes, who keeps messaging you over dinner?”

I quickly took my seat while no one was looking.

“Leave the man be,” David cut in. “It’s the price of being a business man.”

Cordelia looked no less annoyed as she watched Kieran scan the message. Whatever it pertained had amplified the lingering remains of his frown. He returned the message quickly.

“I apologize.” He put the phone away. “That was the last one hopefully for the evening.”

David shook his head. “Work will always come first, isn’t that right?”

It was impossible to tell with David, but his good mood had me stealing peeks at him from the corner of my eye. Granted, he’d always been a little wound tight where the Kincaid’s were involved, but never this ... needy for Kieran’s attention. Whatever Kieran had that David wanted, he was doing his best to get it.

I slipped out of the room while dessert was being served. I normally would have made an effort to stay for that, but it was pitch black out and I had a whole forest to cross to get to my car.

Jameson was already waiting in the lobby for me, coat and shoes dangling from his fingertips with a delicacy of someone hiding trash.

I accepted both with a murmured thanks and slipped them on. My hair was unhooked from the collar and I buttoned up tight.

“Goodnight Jameson,” I said on my way to the door.

His features seemingly carved from granite never altered, but he bowed a stiff little nod.

“Miss.”

It was frigid outside.

The temperature had plummeted head first into the minuses with no regards for those who were forced to linger in it. It was abrasive and cruel, a pack of vicious demons tearing at flesh with razor blades. Each attack stole my breath, leaving me gasping into the buttoned collar of my coat. My skirt twisted around naked limbs, useless against the assault. The flesh had begun to go numb.

I whimpered, and wondered if I would even make it, or if someone would find my corpse half buried and frozen in the brittle leaves come morning. It was certainly possible. I was no longer even walking in a straight line, but a weaving shuffle where my knees refused to bend anymore and my feet had become blocks of ice on my slippers. Tears trickled and instantly became droplets of ice burning into skin. I couldn’t feel my hands to wipe them away.

“Gabby!”

The wind screamed my name, and I knew this was it; the devil had finally come for me. He would promise me warmth in exchange for my soul. Well, he could have it.

“Gabby.” Large hands grabbed my shoulders and spun me. “Jesus, baby, you’re frozen.”

Kieran pulled me into the folds of his coat. The open flaps were drawn right around my trembling frame and I was cocooned.

I didn’t protest.

I didn’t pull away.

I didn’t care.

I was so cold and he was a lit furnace exuding a blanket of heat I was incapable of denying.

I clung to him with greedy desperation. Numb fingers unfurled just enough to close again in his sweater. My face found a home in his collarbone, and I nearly wept in relief.

“Kieran.”

His arms tightened. “Yeah, come on. Let’s get you inside.”

I allowed myself to be guided to the car parked just a few feet behind us. Its harsh headlights cut into the darkness spilling over our feet. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed it coming down the road. I hadn’t even heard it over the wailing wind.

The interior greeted me like a patient lover, embracing me with welcoming arms of heat. The leather cradled my shivering limbs. I could have curled up there and never moved again.

The driver’s side door opened. I winced at the sharp gust of wind that swung in with Kieran before he sealed the opening with a bang that rattled the frame.

He held out a thick blanket in one hand. The kind people reserved for keeping in the trunk of their car for emergencies. The flat, gray fabric was speckled with a dozen other colored threads all frayed, making the whole thing itchy, but soft. It was shaken out and folded around my shoulders.

But all I felt were his hands rubbing my back with every loving tuck and his scent pooling into my side of the car.

He was so close I could count his lashes.

I could kiss the scar on his eyebrow.

I could run the tip of my tongue along the curve of his bottom lip.

He was so close I had a hard time focusing on anything else.

“There,” he murmured, properly satisfied by his attempts. “That should warm you up.”

I didn’t have the nerve to tell him there were other ways to accomplish that task, ways that involved sliding me into his side and letting me taste his mouth.

“Thank you,” I managed instead.

He remained on my side of the car, body half bent over the console, hands gripping my arms. A dark coil had escaped its confinement and hung like a challenge over his brow, a test to my resolve.

“Okay?” he asked, mistaking my shaky exhale for pain.

I briefly wondered what he would do if I said I wasn’t okay. If I told him the only way I would ever be okay again was if he started driving and never stopped. He’d think I was crazy. He’d think the cold had permanently damaged my brain. He wouldn’t understand.

“Yeah,” I whispered, and watched him recede away from me.

He poured into his own seat, his perfect silhouette washed in shadows, masking him.

He put the car into drive and closed the rest of my walk in mere minutes. It was harmonized by the soft hum of the heater and the rhythmic crunch of tires rolling over dirt.

At the break, he rolled fluidly left. His headlights glided with a golden brush over my car, illuminating its glaring ugliness with its many deformities. Compared to his sleek, black shark, my tiny minnow was pathetic. Not even fit for the junkyard.

I cringed at the sight of it.

“Give me your keys.” Kieran held out an open palm. “I’ll start her up and you can wait here until it warms.”

The mortifications would never end. Each new one pressed into my cheeks like a lit cigarette, melting flesh and making my eyes water.

I bit my lip, willing him to put his hand away, but knowing he wouldn’t.

“The heater’s not working,” I began. “But I’ll be fine once I’m inside and start driving.”

Long, agile fingers curled inward into his square palm, the slow, deliberate furling of a hypnotic bloom in the dark. I almost caught my breath at the simple movement.

“I see.” His fingers splayed once more, collecting light from the dashboard in his palm. “May I have them anyway?”

Beneath the weight of the blanket and the folds of my own clothes, I found my purse and blindly fished for my keys. I brought them out and set them in his hand and watched him make them vanish into the shadows with him.

Light exploded in the cabin with a nudge of his shoulder against his door. It flicked off the moment it closed after him. The abrupt loss of illumination distorted my view of him. He disappeared alongside the shoulder before reappearing next to the driver’s side door of my car.

The overhead light in my Honda Civic wasn’t nearly as bright as his, but I watched his dark head disappear inside, and I prayed to God it wasn’t a mess in there. I wasn’t usually a slob. You needed to have money, to buy things, to be careless with in order to be a slob, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t tossed a sandwich wrapper into the backseat without thinking.

Whatever he was searching for, he must not have found it, because he circled the front to the other side. He stood staring at the passenger side, looking almost ethereal bathed in the natural light from the moon.

I started reaching for my door handle, my curiosity getting the better of me. But he was making his way back with wide, purposeful strides. The driver side door was yanked open and he was filling the space with his warmth and presence.

“What is it?”

He said nothing for a long moment, minutes that were lost in the deep deliberation creasing his brow and narrowing his eyes. His fingers hung loosely around the wheel, his thumbs patting a lazy pattern into the leather.

“Kieran?”

“It’s too cold in there.” One hand peeled away and disappeared into the pocket of his coat. “You need a new heater.” My keys were returned to me, warm from his touch. “I’m going to drive you home and have someone take your car to the shop.”

“No—”

My protest was silenced by the hand that wrapped around mine, folding my fingers over the metal teeth of my keys and noosing invisible ropes around my chest.

“Let me do this for you, Gabby.”

The insistence in his eyes made me pause. Maybe it was the pressure of his hold, but something buried in that warm baritone tenor tightened in my stomach.

“What is it?” I whispered, part of me not really wanting to know, already knowing I wouldn’t like it.

His mouth opened. I caught a glimpse of his teeth as he began to formulate words. I braced myself for whatever was to come.

But nothing did.

His attention was diverted, pulled askew from the topic by the peek of my index finger slightly extended from between his. The sight of it seemed to momentarily surprise him, as if he’d completely forgotten he was holding my hand. His gaze became a dark glimmer intensely transfixed by the novelty.

I swallowed. The sound brutally audible in the absolute silence.

He didn’t notice.

I’d lost him to the complexity of our skins touching, to the complete dwarfing of my hand in his, to that single finger rising from between his like a budding flower rising from the earth. He studied it as if he’d never seen anything like it in his life. His sheer focus terrified me, fascinated me. I didn’t know whether to pull away or...

The rough pad of his thumb grazed the vulnerable digit, an unexpected caress that scattered my thoughts and sent an army of electrical currents marching beneath my skin. It traced the two delicate bends before the round curve of my nail. In the dark, he couldn’t see the soft, pink polish, but I didn’t think he cared.

“Gabby.”

My soul trembled with that single almost reverent murmur of my name. I felt it with the warm whisper of a summer breeze wafting along my skin. I could have bathed in it.

“Please don’t.”

The plea had no consent from the rest of me when slipping from my lips. It dove between us in the dark, demolishing the fine web he’d so pain strikingly spun with a mere touch. The remains showered in rose colored shards into the abyss when he raised his head.

His hand loosened.

I hadn’t realized how firm his grip had been until the pressure lifted and threads of cold air seeped in to replace his warmth.

I almost whimpered at the loss. I almost reached for him. Instead, I watched mute and broken as he slipped away from me, sliding back into his side of the car.

“You won’t be able to drive that car anywhere tonight,” he said at long last, his focus once more on the car. “Both tires on that side have been slashed.”

My euphoria over the touch of his hand dissolved into disbelief. My gaze darted away from him to my innocent vehicle sitting alone on the side of the highway, slumped and defeated beneath the residence of Kieran’s headlights. I had never hurt more than I did in that moment. My poor car, who had never done anything to anyone, vandalized out of sheer malice, because I knew exactly who had done it. I knew why. And I hated her like I’d never hated my sister before.

Cruel.

Spiteful.

Evil.

Just a few of the names that coincided with the image of her in my head to go along with all the other names.

“Gabby?”

“Are you sure?” I forced out around congested lungs.

Kieran nodded. “I’m sorry. Do you want me to call the police?”

Drowning in rage, I didn’t understand his reasoning at first. But I realized that was what normal people did when they were hurt or needed help — they called the authorities. They involved dangerous strangers into private matters. The very idea would have had David skinning me alive.

We never called the police.

We never brought outsiders into family business.

We never snitched.

“No,” I whispered. “Thank you. I’ll take care of it.”

“Let me have my guy look at it,” he pressed. “He can have it repaired by tomorrow and brought to your place.”

I accepted because I didn’t know any mechanics. I couldn’t afford to before. Even now, I was struggling to come up with a viable excuse to explain how I managed to afford two new tires and fees if David asked.

The whole thing had demons drilling into my temples.

I hated her.

I hated all of them, but I hated Cordelia with a vigorous new flame. It ignited in my belly with an anger that was all consuming. I almost couldn’t breathe.

“Gabby?”

Air suctioned into my lungs.

“Yes,” I whispered. “Please.”

I watched the dull glint of my bumper while he drew out his phone and called someone. I studied the dark little puddles where the light didn’t dip into the dents.

Next to me, Kieran murmured to the person in the other end. I vaguely recognized the address and the description of my car. It was hilarious because in that neighborhood, cars like mine didn’t exist. They had no business being there. It stuck out, a sickly cow amongst a herd of beautiful, thoroughbred stallions. It didn’t require a description.

Nevertheless, I remained silent while he made the preparation to have my wounded baby delivered to safety.

“He’ll be here within the hour,” Kieran said, returning the phone to his pocket.

I nodded. “Thank you.”

Part of me wondered what more Cordelia could do if left with my unattended car on a dark stretch of road. An hour could stretch on forever. But I couldn’t explain to Kieran why I wanted to stay and wait for the tow. Not that he wouldn’t understand, but because I was terrified he might.

Without my protest, he pulled away. He rounded onto the road and we abandoned my only source of freedom to be dismantled and destroyed.

I wanted to weep. That car had been the only reason I was able to escape my prison. Without it, I would still be under that roof with a disinterested mother and a man who wanted things from me no father should ever want from their daughter. It had saved me. Now, I was just leaving it there for the vultures to descend and pick it apart.

“Thomas is the best,” Kieran assured me, mistaking my silence. “He’s worked on all my vehicles.”

“I’m sure he’s wonderful,” I murmured to appease his mind, but I doubted even Thomas could salvage what would remain once Cordelia finished.

We drove in silence for several miles through a spacious road laced by a thick trimming of forestry. The seemingly endless span never failed to relax me, lull my head back against the headrest. With the blanket still tucked snug around me, I could have happily stayed in that moment forever.

“Gabby?”

Something feather light kissed my cheek. It could have been nothing more than the brush of a breeze, but it skimmed my lips. The sensation was like being licked by a tongue of fire. The burn jolted me awake.

Murky darkness greeted my blurry vision. Harsh splotches of light glittered too sharply against a bed of black velvet, stinging my eyes.

I blinked several times before the empty street in front of my apartment came into view.

“Oh!” I struggled to untangle myself from the blanket and shift higher in the seat. “I’m so sorry.”

Kieran smiled, showing just a hint of teeth. “Don’t be.”

I did a quick inventory, running my hands through my hair and discreetly checking for drool. My skirt had bunched beneath me, creating deep creases, but I was still properly covered.

Kieran chuckled as if he knew exactly what I was doing.

“Please don’t laugh,” I pleaded, the heat in my face intensifying to a painful degree. “I would have been mortified.”

His laugh only deepened. “You look adorable when you’re in a panic.”

I shot him a look, nose wrinkled. But I felt my lips give into a small smile. I chuckled softly and dropped my gaze with the pretense of unhitching my purse strap from the blankets.

Something metal jingled in my movement, the familiar rattle of my keys that must have slipped from my fingers during my nap.

“Could you...?”

I motioned with one finger towards the overhead lights, while my free hand patted blindly at my lap.

Kieran obliged.

The warm glow left patches of shadows, pockets of darkness to hide my keys.

I undid my belt and shook out the blanket. I folded it quickly and tossed it into the backseat before resuming the search.

“I’m so sorry,” I began, carelessly sweeping clumps of hair behind my ear and lifting my hips to sweep a hand underneath. “I should have put them away.”

I found them the moment I nudged them off the seat and into the crevice between seat and console with a clatter.

Kieran laughed, which I didn’t understand. How could he find any of that amusing? I wanted to crawl under my seat and join my keys I was so embarrassed.

He unsnapped his belt and leaned in as I did. The uncoordinated momentum collided our faces — his face, my forehead — but the assault drove us both back clutching at our injuries.

We both laughed.

“Are you okay?” I asked, eyeing the sharp contour of his cheekbone he was gingerly prodding at with two fingertips. “Let me see.”

There was no thought process when I moved forward, no little voice shrieking to stop. It was basic human instinct to help the person I’d hurt with my carelessness. I didn’t even consider the consequences when I brushed his fingers aside and took their place against his warm skin.

A fine carpet of fuzz had begun to grow along the taut line of his jaw. The smooth and rough sensation messed with my senses, with my attention, and I stupidly let my fingers wander.

My thumb slipped down the high ridge of his cheek into the hollow where the prickling was slightly sharper. The dark patch covered his jaw and circled his mouth, a mouth I was so close to I hurt.

I physically ached.

My core had flared to life with a pulse that seemed to control my entire body. It hummed with a deep, perverse need to feel that stubble scratching my inner thighs as he made a path with his lips to mine.

My thighs pressed together. My attempts at being subtle failed with the rustle of leather giving me away.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

For being so turned on I was leaving stains on his seats.

For wanting him so badly that, if he touched me, I’d let him have me right there with the lights on.

For being too scared and uncertain to do a damn thing about it.

“Touching,” I breathed at last.

“I don’t mind touching,” he replied.

As if to prove it, he brushed a thumb over my cheek.

The result was that of a faulty wiring sending sparks scattering across my skin. The prickling burn littered my arms in goose bumps and tightened my nipples to hard, painful ridges that pushed against the front of my dress.

I sucked in a breath that jolted me back to reality and what the hell I was doing.

“Oh my god ... I’m so sorry!”

Horrified, I scrambled from the car and threw myself out into the cold. My body radiated with a thermal heat that bordered on sweltering. Clammy fingers unsnapped buttons as I sprinted to the row of concrete stairs painted in the dull glow of the single bulb overhead. My heels clapped on each step as I jogged to the top ... and froze.

I didn’t have my keys.

They were still somewhere under my seat.

“Stupid!” I muttered into the quiet night.

Why could I never think properly where Kieran was involved? Why did I always manifest into some awkward, brainless idiot that couldn’t find her own left foot if it smacked her in the face? I’d never been any good at speaking with the opposite sex, but when it came to him ... I clearly needed a keeper. Maybe a bubble.

“You forgot these.”

The very reason for all my turmoil stood at the base of my apartment stairs, a beautiful phantom in a long wool coat and paralyzing eyes. Between his fingers, my keys glinting in the light.

I felt like a scorned child making my way back to him. Every step I closed and he remained firmly in place was like a punishment.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

Kieran’s answer was to set the cool bits of metal into my palm. I knew immediately from the weight that several were missing.

“I took the ones for the car, I hope you don’t mind.”

How could I mind when I was drowning in mortification? It seemed no matter what I did, I never failed to find a new way to feel small and useless in front of him.

“I’m sorry.”

From his place just beneath me, Kieran raised his chin. Those warm, alluring eyes met mine through a thick stretch of darkness. They penetrated straight through me.

“You apologize a lot,” he stated at last.

“I’m...” I caught myself and winced. “It’s a habit,” I murmured instead.

It was more than that. It was my word of salvation. It was my curse. It was the chain around my ankle. I had always been given so much to be sorry about. My whole life was an apology.

“I think I’d like to help you stop,” he decided. “No more unnecessary apologies.”

He didn’t realize that was impossible, but I was intrigued.

“How?”

The liquid puddles of gold shimmered in the harsh light. I found myself hypnotized.

“Leave that to me.” He took a step back. “Have a goodnight, Ms. Thornton.”

I smiled. “Mr. Kincaid.”

He didn’t move until I’d let myself in. He remained a perfect statue at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for the moment the glass doors clicked between us. I offered him a final wave before letting myself up the stairs.