Crown of Lies

Another night slipped over this one. A night where I’d willingly stepped from the confines of my company and explored without a phone or back-up plan. Nameless had found me, saved me, and relieved me of some small part of my innocence. Tonight, Penn had claimed me, corrupted me, and stolen the rest.

Both nights had left me with sadness and unease.

I shivered as a gust blew down the street, encouraging me to walk and ponder rather than stand like an idiot kicked out of Penn’s home.

Putting one foot in front of the other, I didn’t let the tickle of rejection climb up my spine and squat on my shoulders. I kept focused and cool—nothing more than a CEO out for a midnight stroll with a torn blouse and soreness between her legs.

Rather than tramp all the way home (and get lost in the process), I’d walk toward the busier side of town and hail a cab. I would’ve given away a small fortune for my phone to work so I could call David. A few years ago, I hated being surrounded by staff and not having any freedom. Now, I appreciated having people I trusted. It made my life stream-line, not this messy unknown I currently lived in.

Catching a cab hadn’t worked well for me last time. I had an awful feeling something terrible would happen again. Mainly because the similarities about that night with Nameless and tonight with Penn couldn’t be ignored.

I let myself think freely about Nameless—without frustration toward my father or guilt. To recall the ease in his company even though we had just met. The trust he demanded even though I knew nothing about him. I felt safe with Nameless, despite the overwhelming teenage attraction scrambling my insides. With Penn, I was terrified for my well-being and personal relationships as he bowled through them with falsehoods.

My father didn’t understand that, in some awful way, I’d doomed myself that night. I’d taken an adventure full of danger and kisses and made it far too idealistic. I put Nameless on a pedestal and figured if I couldn’t have him, I didn’t want anyone—effectively blinding myself to other prospects—other men who I had no doubt would be just as special and probably much better suited for me.

Just because I don’t like Greg doesn’t mean I won’t like every male in the world.

And besides, I was still so young. Dad forgot my age most of the time. He saw me as the pillar of his company and his happiness. Because I didn’t have a family of my own yet, he believed he’d failed.

Marrying me off wasn’t about me but him.

Why didn’t I see it before?

I slammed to a stop.

Dad was a good parent, but when it came to having everything neat and organized, he overlooked my age, wants, and who I was as an individual. So what if he wanted me to be partnered off?

I didn’t. Not yet, at least.

It was time to tell him not to meddle in my life anymore and for me to stop using his heart attack as an excuse to bow to his every command.

Nodding in resolution, I strode off again with renewed vigor. The ache between my legs throbbed, making it hard to concentrate, but for the first time in years, I felt calmer. Like I’d taken control of my future in some small way.

I’d slept with Penn on my own terms. It hadn’t ended as nicely as I’d hoped, but I’d used him and enjoyed it. I’d expanded Belle Elle with a line of adult toys. It was risky and tantalizing, but I’d made that decision.

I was in charge of all things.

I can do this.

I can be honest with myself and him.

Stepping off the sidewalk, I crossed the deserted street, heading toward the glow of the business district ahead.

Unfortunately, New York was bipolar when it came to a woman walking on her own. One moment, it could be the most welcoming host with its tidy streets and beckoning streetlights, and the next, it could switch into a two-faced joker with piles of rubbish and a lone hooded man patrolling toward me beneath a burned streetlight, letting darkness swallow it whole.

I slammed to a stop. My heart left its normal home in my ribs to split into two and drop into my legs.

In an ordinary situation, on a bright sunny day, having a faceless stranger prowl toward me wouldn’t be an issue—mainly because I’d have David there. But in this situation? It bothered me. A lot.

Looking behind me, my brain came up with and discounted ideas as quickly as they came.

Run.

Hide.

Walk forward.

Return to Penn’s.

He’s probably harmless.

You’re reading into things.

Regardless of the truth, none of my scattered thoughts were options because the hooded figure looked up, revealing the black void where his face should be. The distance between us vanished step by step. I crossed the street again, hoping I was just in his way and not his target.

The moment my feet touched the other side, the man copied me.

Shit.

The crunch of his dirty sneakers echoed in my ears as he came to a standstill a few feet ahead. His fists hung by his side, his long legs encased in black jeans while the dark gray hoodie was covered in red stains that I hoped were from ketchup and not other sinister goo.

I stopped breathing.

Was this the world’s cruel joke? That I couldn’t be safe on my own at all? That the two times I’d been without my dad, David, or another man, I was victim to anyone who wanted to prey on me?

Was the earth sexist and teaching me I needed a man to survive?

Anger scalded away my fear. “What do you want?”

The man chuckled. “Money.”

“I don’t have any. I left my purse with my driver.”