12

 

She didn’t show.

I had alerted my security guards to my guest, decanted the same wine that we had drunk in the study on the night of the Masquerade. I wanted to tell her that I knew. I knew she was the one in the mask.

I paced. Wearing a groove in the thick cream carpet of my living room, whilst holding a glass of burgundy and drinking more with each nerve wracking hour that passed.

Putting the glass on the side table, I ran my hands through my hair and tugged.

I wasn’t coping with being back in Louisiana.

New York was a constant drain on my energy, time and social life. But Goldryn Bois was slowly eating me alive.

I woke up on the couch, with an empty wine glass in my hand and a red stain on my carpet. My shirt was creased and the throw pillows had left red lines over my face from where I had slept on them.

I showered and dressed, making it to the temporary office on the building site on the 603. I was in a terrible mood and everyone could sense it. They avoided me like the plague.

When lunchtime rolled around, I excused myself and took my key out of my pocket. I had been lucky enough to commandeer a parking spot in some shade. Midday sun in the Louisiana heat was no joke and the mosquitos were out in force. The 603 skipped over the swamp in places, but the building site was solid and we were lucky enough to get the relevant wildlife permits. I had unlocked my car and had carefully placed my laptop in the backseat when I saw her.

Sarah leant against the side of her Range Rover, dressed like a soccer mom in a pink cardigan and white summer dress. She wore kitten heels, which weren’t ideal for the terrain as she tried to navigate through the mud as she walked towards me.

I saw her stumble and dipped forward to help her.

“Thank you, Elliot.” She leant in, touching my elbow before she caught the look of distain on my face and pulled away.

“I couldn’t let a pregnant woman fall.” I replied stiffly.

Sarah's lips pulled into a bright smile that showed every one of her white teeth. “I’m glad you've accepted the news.”

“You haven’t given me much choice.” I growled.

Sarah rolled her eyes at me and shook her head. She did not deign to reply.

“What do you want from me?” I told her. “I have no idea how I got in that hotel room, and I know that you're responsible.” I kept my voice without accusation, as if we were talking about the weather.

“You told me to come to the hotel bar.” Sarah said pointedly. “You wanted to fuck.”

“I didn’t want to be stuffed full of roofies and raped.” I hated how weak I sounded.

“Don’t use that word.” She sneered. “Men can’t get raped.”

I shook my head in disgust. “What would you call it then?” I bit back the urge to call her a disgusting whore. I wanted to recoil from her. Hurt her. But I refused to give her that power.

“Persuasion.” She licked her lips.

“So, I’d bareback you?” I scoffed in disbelief. “You’re sick. Twisted.”

Sarah's face flushed puce and she stepped even closer to me. “It’s your child.”

“You planned this.”

Sarah shrugged. “What can you do?”

“You won’t get what you want from me so easily.” I snarled.

I couldn’t take a second more of her toxicity. I needed air. I needed purity. I needed Pepper.

I stepped away from Sarah Mallory, the mother of my child and pulled open my car door.

“I know you lied about having a fiancée.” Sarah called after me. “Be thankful I’m pregnant. It might be the only chance you have of not dying alone.”

Her callous laughter rang through my mind long after I had joined the freeway and driven back to Goldryn Bois.

 

 

After my meeting at the building site, I went home and caught up on emails. I cooked myself dinner and paced.

My fingers itched and my skin felt too tight.

I needed to see her.

I went back to the Pink Sleeve that night.

My personal obsession and my darkest secret. No wait. That wasn’t right. She wasn’t my darkest secret. Maybe my best secret, the kind you wanted to keep because you didn’t want the outside world to sully it.

Sarah Mallory was another matter. She was a black hole of a secret. Swathed in shame and obligation.

I grabbed the keys to my Porsche and my wallet; I forced my feet to slow as I got into my car. I was contained by manic energy. Held together by the promise of seeing her.

Pepper. My escape.

I parked a few storefronts away from the Pink Sleeve. Located just off of Main Street; the road was bathed in a pink glow from the cursive sign above.

It was later than the previous night and the bouncer scanned my driving licence. It took longer than usual, and my brother greeted me at the podium at the entrance.

Julian tilted his head to the side and gestured for me to follow him behind a hidden door. I looked up into the dim corridor. He had a whole network of hallways that customers would never see, it seemed.

“What brings you here, brother?” Julian had a salacious smirk on his face. Like he knew something that I didn’t. I wouldn’t put it past him because he had fingers in many pies.

“None of your business.” I grunted.

“Tsk. You wouldn’t want the good folks of Goldryn Bois to think that the golden boy of the family was frequenting strip clubs.”

I pushed my hand through my hair, irritated. “I honestly don’t give a fuck.”

Julian laughed, freely and loudly. “I know who you're here to see.”

“It’s not you.” I supplied helpfully.

Julian opened his office door and led me through. Whilst he took the seat behind his desk, I stayed standing with my arms across my chest.

“Pepper.” Julian said simply. “I didn’t put it together until she mentioned that you were her first dance.”

My entire body was as taut as a violin string.

“Her real name is Harriet.” Julian offered. He reached down and picked up the phone on his desk. He ordered drinks without asking me what I had wanted.

I pressed my back against the door. “I didn’t ask.”

“She’s Rina’s best friend.” Julian informed me.

“And she works here because?”

Julian's expression betrayed nothing. “I didn’t ask.”

There was a small tap on the door to signal that our drinks had arrived. A waitress darted in, brunette, small but curvy. In another life, I would have checked out her ass but my mind was elsewhere.

Once she left, Julian's characteristically joyous demeanour melted into a seriousness that I was unfamiliar with.

“Are you sure that getting involved with Harriet is wise? Have you decided what to do about the Sarah Situation?”

Julian knew she was pregnant. He didn’t know what a sick little freak she was.

I grabbed the tumbler of liquor and knocked it back. My lips peeled back to my teeth as I savoured the burn of the amber liquid with a hum. I shook my head in response to his question and put the expensive crystal back onto the tray.

Without a word, I took Julian's drink as well. Despite the fact that it was on the rocks, I knocked it back without giving the ice a chance to melt.

“Harriet is going through some shit right now, Elliot.” Julian warned in a low voice. His blue eyes had frozen solid. “I take care of my girls. Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

I took out my wallet and peeled my black AMEX card from the folds. I placed it on his desk and slid it over using my middle finger.

“I just want to watch her dance.” I lied.

 

 

I sat in the same chair, in the same room, like last time. My hands were preoccupied with my drink of soda water. One drink was one drink too many around Pepper.

Or Harriet...

I shook my head to clear it and I found myself smiling when the door clicked open and the tentative sounds of my addiction drifted into the room.

Today she wore a red bustier, with a G-string that showed the toned globes of her buttocks. Her heels were red, making her look taller than she was. Her thick hair was straight and touched her elbows. Her whisky eyes were lined and smoky.

She looked like a devil.

Her painted lips twitched into an involuntary grin. Unbridled joy like a child on Christmas morning before something flickered over her expression and her emotions became shuttered.

My heart twisted. I saw myself in her.

“You're back.” Her husky voice did things to my body that I’d never admit.

“For you.”

My words hung on the air. Their meaning uncertain and unknown.

Pepper/Harriet signalled to the bouncer and the music drifted over the speaker. She strode forward, her shoulders back as if she was going to war.

With herself. Against me or the world. I had no idea.

My angel reached forward and gripped my silk tie. Running it through her fingers. She used the material to pull her face towards mine. She smelled like heady perfume. Cloying roses and peppermint toothpaste.

“I can think of other uses for this tie.” She said, glancing at me from under her lashes.

“For me or for you?” I answered, caught in her spell.

Without another word, Harriet pulled the material free and ran it through her fingers and then over her shoulder. She walked behind me and tapped my wrist with her finger. I obliged and put my hands on the chair.

Harriet tied my wrists, loosely, but that wasn’t the point, it was symbolic.

“George, could you step out for a second.” Harriet looked over and winked to the bouncer. He nodded and shut the door behind him on the way out.

Excitement coiled, and my cock strained.

Harriet walked in front of me, her hands on her tiny waist. I waited with baited breath for her next move. I wanted her to touch me. Beg. Tell me that she knew me. That she wanted me as much as I wanted her.

Instead, she slapped me. Hard.