“I can’t believe this,” she said. When he flinched, she grabbed his hand. “No, I mean, I do believe you. It’s just… it’s a helluva thing, you know?”
“Maze was in the system, he turned out okay… Noon too, I think, though he’s less of an example. Wherever the kid is, I’m sure it’s doing better being away from the neighborhood and away from me.”
Before she could offer to help him find out, Harlow had to talk to Dover. This was a can of worms that could alter his life… and his opinion of his father.
She’d already offered to help Dover track down the arsonist, if their theories proved to be incorrect. Now she was thinking about an adoption case. She was just lining up missions for herself. Though, on the plus side, neither of those should involve women who wanted to pray on Ryske… at least, not yet. He had a way of bringing out that quality in women.
Harlow was thinking about her man and how she’d broach the arson theory with him when there was a cacophony of noise in the outer apartment.
Penzance sat straight, but Harlow just sagged. “It’s only Brash.”
It did sound like he’d brought a few bodies back, but that wasn’t unusual. Harlow knew the setup. The front door of the apartment, like Ophelia’s, opened into an open-plan entry space that linked straight into the living room through a square arch.
Everything else in the apartment was accessible from the hallway that led away from the living room. Luckily, there was a door between the hallway and the living room, so Brash’s friends shouldn’t cause them trouble. The restroom and kitchen were the first rooms on either side of that hall. So even if they wanted to use those rooms, they wouldn’t have to come as far up as Harlow’s bedroom.
Almost as soon as Penzance started to relax, Harlow began to tense. The noise was coming closer, someone was in the hallway. It wasn’t Brash. That voice sounded like…
“Shit,” she hissed and leaped up to run toward the door to kill the light. “Take your clothes off.”
“What?” he asked, sitting up at the edge of the bed.
Harlow was already running back toward him. Dropping to her knees in a slide, the carpet burned her skin, but she ignored the sting in favor of yanking off his socks and tossing them away.
“Get your belt off,” she hissed, sure the voice outside was louder.
“What the hell is going on?”
She stood to pull him to his feet. “Ophelia is out there,” she whispered. “We’re supposed to have been screwing all this time. You know what she’s like, she’s out there listening in here, waiting for her moment to ambush us.”
Catching on, he began to pull at his belt, while she opened his fly. “Shouldn’t we be making some noise or something if we’re supposed to be having sex?”
Opening her mouth, she let out a quick, sharp squeal and then a long moan. But her voice went back to normal in a snap. “Hurry up.”
She let out another moan and shoved him aside while he pulled off his pants to yank the covers down and mess up the sheets.
“Hey, you’re good at the faking thing… Did you practice that with Ryske?”
Crawling to the far side of the bed, she slid under the sheet before slipping out of her dress and balling it up to throw it as far toward the door as she could.
She was whining and panting and poking at him when he got in beside her. “Underwear too,” she said. He reached under the covers to lift his hips and whip it off. “She’ll check what’s on the floor and I don’t have panties, so it will have to be yours.”
“You’re damn demanding.”
“Make a noise,” she said and almost fell out the bed when he began to bounce on it.
“God, I feel like I’m in a bad nineties sitcom,” he said, bouncing some more while she kept faking it.
Falling onto her back, she closed her eyes, fearing she’d laugh if she kept looking at him. When the weight of his body lurched against hers, she opened her eyes to see him lying against her side.
“Back off,” she hissed, giving him a push.
“We should be doing something.” She scowled at him. “Not that, but… something.”
“Something like what did you have in mind? You’re bouncing, I’m moaning.” Over the sheet, he tickled her ribs, making her laugh. “Vane!”
She squealed and shoved at his hand, but he kept tickling. It wasn’t easy to fake orgasm at the same time someone was tickling her.
The bed was far from the door, which was in a narrow space beyond the closet. She heard it open and locked her eyes to Vane’s who was still bouncing. Harlow moaned again, but was interrupted by Ophelia’s gasp
“Oh, well, I suppose we’ve found her,” Ophelia exclaimed.
Her use of the word “we” made Harlow shove Penzance aside and sit up, clutching the sheet to her chest.
To her absolute horror, Ophelia wasn’t alone. All of the consortium was there with her. Parratt, Lydia, and Yarker were at her back. Up front, at Ophelia’s side, was Ryske.
Ryske was there. He’d just seen… and heard.
20
Harlow opened her mouth. Penzance chose that moment to lay a hand on her back and sit up at her side, showing everyone he was naked from the waist up at least.
“You’ve got to pay for a show,” Penzance said, really selling it that he was annoyed. Stroking her back, he leaned in to whisper through her hair. “You okay?”
She couldn’t tear her eyes away from Ryske. Did he think this was real? That she would even consider betraying him like this?
Her chest grew tighter. She clung to the sheet trying to show him that she did value her modesty. There was thunder in his eyes and swirling around him. All night she’d made efforts to calm and appease him. She’d asked her friends for help in keeping him safe and off the streets. Witnessing this was prime fodder for him to take out there.
“Well, I suppose they can miss the party,” Ophelia said, turning with open arms to herd everyone out. “We’ll be in the living room if you can tear yourselves away from each other.”
Under her direction, the group began to leave, even Ryske turned his back and walked away. But Ophelia couldn’t resist the chance to peek over her shoulder and show her sly smile.
The bitch knew exactly what she was doing. She hadn’t told Ryske what she’d seen earlier. She’d orchestrated it so he would come and find out for himself.
After the bedroom door closed, all Harlow could do for a clear minute was sit there with her jaw hanging loose. Penzance’s hand on her shoulder snapped her back to reality, forcing her to pull away.
He put his hands up. “Thought you were going to pass out. You okay?”
“Okay? Am I okay?” she asked, twisting left and right, looking for something she could wear, but her dress was on the floor all the way across the room. “Did you see his face?”
Spotting Penzance’s shirt on the floor by the bed, she tucked the sheet around her back and bent over flat to reach for it.
Penzance just sank onto his back and put a hand behind his head. “Yeah, but, you know, you guys are solid.”
“We’re solid because we respect each other,” she said, whipping his shirt around her head to drive her arms into the sleeves. “That, what just happened, wasn’t respectful.”
“Don’t stress. I’ll tell him nothing happened.”
It infuriated her that he was so loose and happy to slide deeper into the bed.
Harlow busied herself with fastening buttons. “You think he’ll believe you?” she asked, shoving the cuffs over her hands and throwing back the sheet, not even caring that she revealed his naked form in the process.
“Why not? It’s true. I’ll talk to him, tell him—”
“You won’t talk to him,” she said, storming around the end of the bed, glaring at him as she went. “You’d be best served not to go anywhere near him for a long, long time. I meant you think he’ll believe you over me? I don’t need you speaking to him for me. Anything I have to say to Ryske, I’ll say myself.”
<
br /> Grabbing his pants from the floor, she flung them at his chest. He hadn’t even bothered to cover up. He was just lying there in the middle of her bed completely naked without any modesty. Penzance didn’t have anything to be modest about. His body was incredible, but seeing it in her bed angered her.
“What are these for?” he asked, untwisting his pants. “She said we didn’t have to go out there.”
“Oh, so you’d rather stay in here?” she asked, going to the end of the bed to swipe the alcohol from the floor. “Fat chance, buddy. Ryske is out there and if my man is out there, I’m going out there too.”
To fix this, that was the idea. Though, she didn’t have a clue how to go about it when they would probably be watched every second.
It was while she was gulping from the liquor bottle that she reminded herself her relationship with Ryske was in flux. So, really, she didn’t know that it was right to think of him as her man.
“You just told me to avoid the guy, want to make your mind up?”
She had just said that. Really, Penzance was irrelevant to what she had to do. Harlow just didn’t like the visual of him in her bed, but that wasn’t his fault either.
“Fine,” she said. “You want to stay here? Stay.”
Turning around, she started for the door, unsure what she would find out there. Whatever she found, Harlow was going to face it. She wasn’t going to leave Ryske out there, picturing what was going on in her bedroom. It was a miracle that he’d held onto his composure in the bedroom at all. If someone had asked what his reaction would be to seeing what he saw, she wouldn’t have said it would be to fume without speaking and then leave.
There was no one in the hallway outside her bedroom. While walking past the restroom, she heard voices in the kitchen.
“It’s something, isn’t it?” Ophelia was saying, unable to hide her taunting glee. “She just wheedles her way in with every man. I’ve heard the way they talk to each other. The way they flirt. But I had no idea that they were… physical with each other. I wonder…” Harlow crept closer, but didn’t go inside. “I wonder how long it’s been going on. Have they been fucking for weeks? Maybe it’s been going on since they got here.”
“Why do you care, Fi?” Ryske asked.
Curling her lips into her mouth, Harlow felt awful for her love and the turmoil that must be churning him up inside. Whatever he was thinking about what he saw, the image wasn’t a pleasant one. It must have burned itself into his mind.
“I don’t. It doesn’t matter to me,” she said, then squealed. “I just think it’s hilarious that they’ve been screwing all this time and we didn’t even know it. She’s good, isn’t she? Good at being discreet. I guess maybe it’s because she doesn’t feel anything. Maybe she’s just using him for sex… I wonder if it’s good. Do you think it’s good sex, Ryske?” Ophelia’s voice was becoming more sultry. “Do you think she likes having him inside her? Do you think she begs for him to fuck her? I wonder if she likes it hard or tender. I guess you’d know… Tell me, sweetheart, does she like it rough or gentle?”
Harlow’s feet moved before she decided whether or not it was a good idea to go in. Entering the kitchen, she found Ryske propped on the central island with Ophelia angled against him, giving him her weight. Harlow didn’t like to see another woman propped on Ryske, not that woman anyway, but she folded her arms and didn’t comment.
If she was so riled just seeing this, she couldn’t begin to imagine how Ryske had been so composed at finding her naked with another man.
“Ophe,” Harlow said.
“Ah, we were just talking about you,” Ophelia said, slipping both arms around Ryske and resting her head on his chest. “Where’s your boyfriend?”
Harlow didn’t mean to look at Ryske, but she did. Except, he wasn’t looking at her. With his hands in his pockets, he was staring straight ahead, over the top of Ophelia’s head.
“You were out of line Ophelia. You shouldn’t be coming into my bedroom.”
That wasn’t what she was getting at by her being out of line. Harlow was thinking more of how she’d been set up so Ryske would find her in flagrante delicto. Except she couldn’t be explicit about that when the play was to make Ophelia think Harlow and Ryske’s relationship was over.
“It’s not like we’ve never seen each other naked before,” she said. “Though, I have to say, Vane is quite the specimen. Well done snagging him.”
“I haven’t snagged anything,” Harlow said. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No, I don’t suppose I do,” Ophelia said, being coy but obvious about stroking Ryske’s upper arm. “I only know what I’ve snagged.”
Harlow wasn’t going to react; that was what Ophelia wanted. “Why would you even be here?” she asked. “Your apartment is one floor up, remember?”
“I own both apartments,” Ophelia asserted. “I can go wherever I want… For your information, we came here because we were going to include you in our discussions. But if you’d rather forfeit your voting rights—”
“No, I want to vote,” Harlow said. “Though you can probably bet I’ll vote the opposite way to you every time.”
Ophelia pushed away from Ryske. “Oh, Harlow, you are so petty,” she said. “Don’t blame me for your choices. And if you think that Ryske gives a damn about what you do in your bed then you give yourself too much credit.” She began to move closer, her sinister enjoyment growing with every step. “He is over you. You will never, ever be with him again… So you can whore yourself to anyone you want to. No one here will blink an eye.”
Harlow wanted to wipe that satisfaction from her face. Nothing would make her happier right now than to slap her. Nothing except Ryske stepping up to contradict the woman. Even though she understood why he couldn’t, it did hurt that he stood there saying nothing.
Instead of lashing out, Harlow smiled and sighed. “Oh, Ophelia,” she said. “Even if every single word of that is true, I don’t see why it should give you such satisfaction… I’m your prisoner, watched every minute, and I still managed to get some… You must be drying up, honey.”
Fuming, Ophelia grew rigid and sucked a long breath in through her nose. Expecting a slap, Harlow braced. The door behind her opened before Ophelia could react. Both women turned to see Penzance come sauntering in.
“It’s the man of the hour,” Ophelia sneered. “Don’t you make a cute couple?”
“Less cute when we’re interrupted,” Penzance said and wandered over to lay an arm along her shoulders. Harlow wanted to shove it off, but Ryske still hadn’t looked her way, so she doubted he’d even notice. “Think I’ll avoid spending the night if that’s what it comes with… Didn’t know you wanted to be our audience.”
“I promise never to interrupt again,” Ophelia said.
No, because she’d done all the damage that she wanted to. As long as Ryske saw what she wanted him to see, Ophelia was fine with giving Harlow and Penzance privacy.
“Not sure that’s reassuring,” Penzance said.
Stepping back, Ophelia adjusted her angle to look from Ryske to the couple and back. “Is this awkward?” It was sick that Ophelia seemed to be enjoying this so much. “You and Ryske sort of know each other and now you’ve had the same woman.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Penzance said. “He doesn’t care about shit like that.”
“Do you?” Ophelia asked and touched her fingertips to her cleavage. “I wonder if Harlow… do you compare your lovers? Now you’ve had both men, you could offer a comparative critique… wouldn’t that be fun?”
“No,” Harlow said. “It wouldn’t… Though I could compare your depravity to your brother’s… Would you like me to do that?”
Ophelia’s glee fell. Every time she managed to return to her joy over this apparent turn of events, Harlow succeeded in pulling the rug out from under her and sending her onto her ass. It was something she wouldn’t stop doing. It was the only chance for pleasure Harlow would get o
ut of this.
“You’re a sick bitch,” Ophelia sneered and started toward her.
Penzance’s hand curled around Harlow’s shoulder. He swayed to the side, easing her back to block Ophelia. “Ladies,” he said. “There’s no need to fight over me. There’s plenty of me to go around.”
When Penzance tried to touch Ophelia’s face, the woman squawked and leaped back. “Don’t you dare try to touch me!” She scurried back to Ryske and put herself in front of him again. “He tried to touch me, Ryske!”
“I didn’t mean any disrespect,” Penzance said. “I thought you were interested because you keep talking about it. I’d have been an idiot to ignore a beautiful woman like you.”
Harlow hid her grin by turning away. Ophelia didn’t know whether to crow or criticize. He conveyed the compliment as genuine. Ophelia wanted to appear loyal to Ryske, so didn’t know whether to act insulted by it.
It wasn’t an enviable position. Ophelia probably wanted the same thing Harlow had missed, Ryske’s defense. Ophelia could request it and get nothing, which would be embarrassing for the woman who was trying to be queen bee.
“Ryske…” Ophelia started to say, though it sounded like she wasn’t really sure where her sentence was going.
The kitchen door opened again and Lydia poked her head inside. “Uh, would you like to take the meeting elsewhere? People are getting kind of restless out here.”
Resigned, Ophelia pushed up to kiss the corner of Ryske’s mouth. Harlow was so relieved that he gave little response. “I have to go and deal with our guests. Get your drink and then join us, as soon as you can.”
Lydia left while Ophelia tried to kiss Ryske again. She still got nothing, so gave up. Walking away from him, Ophelia widened her smile as she moved past and out of the room. Ophelia probably didn’t think anything of leaving Harlow with Ryske while Penzance was present. She’d assume the newer boyfriend wouldn’t let anything happen, or be said, between the former lovers.
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