Spiked Roses: The Complete Top Shelf Series

by Alta Hensley

  “You watched them cut my clothes off. You watched that man spank me, touch me, violate me!”

  “And it destroyed me to see that. I didn’t expect it to. I wanted to cut the man’s hands off for doing so, which was something I wasn’t expecting. I didn’t want anyone else touching you except for—”

  “You?” I snapped. “Because what? You felt as if I was yours? Did the barbaric thought of ‘mine’ go through your mind?” I could barely breathe or see. I had never felt so angry in my life. The pure magnitude of it caused me to teeter between insanity and reality.

  “Yes,” he admitted. “I believed you to be mine. I’ve never felt that way before, and didn’t know how to handle it or what the fuck to do with it.”

  I laughed out loud, the sound tortured and maddening, blending with the roaring wind that whipped around. “Yours. Ha!” I shoved him hard in the chest, causing him to take another step back. “And yet, you still watched. You still allowed me to sit in that room alone and scared. Is that what you did?”

  He nodded again and slowly raised his eyes to meet mine.

  “Did it make your dick hard?” I said between clenched teeth. “Answer me, you disgusting motherfucker! Answer me! Did it make you want to fuck me even more?”

  “Marlowe, please,” he said as he took a step toward me. “At least go inside. It’s not safe out here with things blowing around. I’ll answer all your questions and do whatever I can to make this right. I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I would take it all back if I could.” Branches flew through the air, and a tree snapped in the distance. “But it’s not safe out here. We need to get inside.”

  “It’s not safe with you!” I said, taking a few steps back, not wanting to be near him at all. “I want to leave now. Get me the fuck out of here.”

  “Okay. I’ll drive you back right now.”

  “Not you!” I screamed. “I don’t want you ever to be near me again! Asshole!” I glanced over at the pool house. “Have your fucked up pawn drive me back to the city. Don’t you ever come near me again, or I will have your ass arrested. I mean it, Harley. Stay the fuck away from me.” I charged past him. “I’ll be at the boat waiting.”

  Before I could get inside, Harley reached for my arm to pull me back toward him. “Marlowe, listen.”

  I jerked my arm away with so much force that I almost tumbled forward. “RED, motherfucker. RED!”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Harley

  “What. The. Fuck. Did. You. Do?” Matthew asked as he stood at the head of the table where Kenneth normally stood to conduct the emergency managing members’ meeting.

  All the men stared at me with surprise, confusion, and even anger in their eyes. Normally, their looks would be reason enough for me to kill, but I deserved them and so much more.

  “Please tell me what Tennessee just told us is not true,” Matthew said with his hands splayed on the conference table, leaning toward me with piercing eyes.

  “It’s true,” I admitted. “All of it.”

  “Are you kidding me, man?” Roman said. “That was about the most fucked up thing I have ever heard of.”

  “I agree,” Victor added. “That girl feared for her life. She thought it was all real.”

  “And now we can get our asses sued and even in trouble with the law over this. And Kenneth is in Europe on vacation and can’t be here to help us muddle through all the legal shit.”

  “I’m not going to pull you guys into this,” I said. “This is my problem. I’ll take whatever ramifications come from this on me solely. I’ll leave Spiked Roses out of it.”

  “But Spiked Roses is part of it whether we want it to be or not. This was all because of the Tasting that we hosted,” Matthew countered. “It’s a fucking mess.”

  “Is Marlowe threatening a lawsuit?” Alec asked. “How much is this going to cost us to make it go away?”

  “She hasn’t mentioned anything,” Matthew said. “Tennessee just said that she is shaken up and spitting nails.” He looked me squarely in the eyes. “You took it too far. This went far beyond sexual dark play, Harley.”

  I nodded. “I know. Trust me, I fucking know!” I took a drink of vodka, wishing I had the entire bottle in front of me. “I’m not going to excuse what I did. I fucked up. And if I could make it right with her, I would. I would do whatever she asks. And she won’t have to sue, because I will pay her whatever she wants. There isn’t anything I won’t do that she wants.”

  “I’m not a lawyer or anything,” Victor said with his expression softening, “but technically per the contract, Harley didn’t break it. It states in the contract kidnap and rape fantasy. He didn’t do any of her hard limits, and she never screamed RED. So technically—”

  “Yeah, but that’s fucked up,” Roman said, still obviously pissed. “It’s not like she knew that saying RED at that point was even an option. What he did went way above and beyond role playing.”

  Victor nodded. “I’m just saying that technically—”

  “I fucked up. Yes, I didn’t break the contract. And yes, that was my thinking when I first set it all up. I knew the game I was playing, and even hinted at not stopping until I heard the word RED, as if taunting her,” I said. “But Marlowe had no idea she was still part of Who’s Afraid of the Dark? and I damn well knew it. And what’s even worse is that afterwards, once I rescued her, I allowed us to connect. There was an intimacy between us that I never expected. I allowed her to believe that there was something more between us. I fucked with her mind, I lied to her, and then I allowed her to get even closer with me all based around lies. I’m a fucking asshole, and I know it. What is even more fucked in all this… there really was something there. That girl gripped my heart and fucking squeezed.”

  “You care about her?” Roman asked, still scowling.

  “As hard as that may be for you all to believe, yes. Head over fucking heels, and the fear of losing that is why I didn’t come clean right away. I didn’t know how to. I couldn’t process everything I was feeling, and the vibes I was getting from her. It doesn’t excuse this at all. But, yes, I fucking fell hard, and I wanted to go back in time and change everything.”

  “Were you going to try to hide it?” Victor asked.

  “Maybe,” I confessed. “I don’t know. I didn’t know what I was going to do. I just wanted to stop time, keep her with me, and not have to face the fucked up reality I’d created.”

  “So now what?” Lennon asked.

  Matthew shrugged. “We wait. We have to see what Marlowe is going to do and what she wants. I don’t want to pull Kenneth and Anita back from their trip unless we absolutely need to.”

  “There’s no need,” I reassured. “I’ll handle this on my own. I’ll face whatever consequence comes from this without pulling any of you into my crap. This is my shit to clean up.” I looked each man in the eye. “I’m sorry to all of you. I can’t defend my actions, nor am I going to try. Just know that I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that Marlowe never has to feel the pain that I put her through again. And if you all want me to sell my share of Spiked Roses, I will.”

  “Fuck that,” Victor said. “We’ve all fucked up, and we would all be hypocrites if we made you do that.”

  The others nodded, though they still appeared angry.

  “Let’s just give Marlowe whatever assistance she needs in getting through this,” Matthew said.

  “Where is she now?” I asked.

  “With Tennessee. The storm is picking up speed, and we’ve issued a lockdown for the staff who are here, and suggested the members who are here wait the storm out at Spiked Roses as well,” Matthew explained. “We don’t want anyone to leave now. It’s too dangerous for people to be trying to get home. They all have to stay here and wait out the storm. I hope all you stubborn fuckers do as well.” He then looked at me. “Let this play out, Harley. Hopefully, when Marlowe calms down, we can assess where her head is in all this. But fuck, dude. Stay the fuck away from her tonight. Based on wh
at Tennessee said, and what I can only imagine, that chick will murder your ass if she even gets a glimpse of you.”

  “I would deserve it.”

  “All right, gentlemen,” Matthew said as he broke his stare with me. “Can we all for the love of God behave until Kenneth returns? I can’t deal with this shit. Go drink your booze, keep your hands to yourself, and go be the gentlemen I know you all not to be. Go fake your asses off.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Marlowe

  “Nothing hurts more than the pain of love, sugar,” Tennessee said as he held my hand as I sat crumpled on the staff room bathroom floor.

  “Fuck that,” I said. “I didn’t love him.”

  “Maybe not yet, but you could see it happening or this wouldn’t hurt so much. He crushed a dream of yours. He gave you just enough of a peek to rip your soul out.”

  “No, he kidnapped me! That fucking asshole kidnapped me.” I swiped at the tears that had been streaming down my face for the past two hours since arriving at Spiked Roses in a heated rage.

  Tennessee squeezed my hand and pulled his knees closer to his chest. He too sat on the bathroom floor next to me as I sobbed. “Those tears are not because of what he did. Those tears are because what he did ended what could have been. You are mourning the possible future you could have had.”

  “No,” I mumbled, though his words only made me cry harder. “I hate him.”

  “Yes, but hate and love can be the same thing at times.”

  “Fine. Fuck! I fell hard,” I admitted. “I really thought he cared. I’m not the fool. I’m not the girl who falls in love and gets fooled by the prick.” I punched my leg and threw my head back against the tiled wall. “But clearly I am. I’m the biggest fool of them all. It was all a game. It was just one fucked up Tasting contract. And the fucked up thing is, he didn’t do anything wrong in the technical sense. The terms of the contract clearly stated he could push the boundaries of fear. And he fucking did. He fucking did!”

  Tennessee nodded. “But let’s really be honest here, girl. He pushed the boundaries for you in more ways than just fear. You are sitting here right now hurting from a broken heart. Not just because he had you tied to a chair fearing for your life.”

  “Which is crazy. Who in their right mind falls for a fucking assassin in a period of a weekend? I knew what this was all about when I agreed to the Tasting. It was Harley Crow, and I knew his reputation. The man didn’t even know who I was. Why did I think just because he knew how to fuck, and how to make me feel like the most desirable woman in the world, that I would be anything different to the man? I’m not a stupid girl. At least I never was before him.”

  “You aren’t a stupid girl. And my guess is there was more of a connection as you said for him as well. The fact that he is here in the club right now, tells me he cares. He could just be home waiting out this storm like any smart man would do. But he’s here instead,” Tennessee said.

  “He’s here?” I asked as I looked up. “Why in the hell would he be here?”

  Tennessee shrugged. “Well the man did fuck up pretty royally. You could sue the fucking shit out of this place if you wanted.”

  “I would never do that,” I said softly. “I signed that contract. He followed all the terms. He didn’t do any of my hard limits, and I never did say the word RED… well, only after the fact and when I left. But fuck! It was so fucking fucked up! What kind of monster would do such a thing to a woman?”

  “Harley Crow,” Tennessee answered. “But you already knew he was the monster. That mysterious element to him is what fascinated you the most. He just proved it to you.”

  I continued to cry and just rested my head on my knees, wishing it would all go away. There was so much pain. So much pain that I could barely breathe.

  “I need to just go home.” I started to stand, and Tennessee pulled me back down toward where he was sitting on the tiled bathroom floor, attempting to comfort me in all my grief.

  “No. Not now. That storm is being upgraded to a category one hurricane. You aren’t going anywhere.”

  “I’ll be fine. It’s not far.”

  “I wasn’t asking. I was telling.” Tennessee’s sympathetic expression that had been on his face changed to his familiar firm one when he was making it clear that he was damn serious, and his words better be understood and followed.

  “And do what? Sit here and cry in the bathroom the rest of the day and night? I’m not scheduled to work tonight, and I seriously doubt there will be any customers. I just need to sleep and pretend this awful weekend never existed.”

  “This wasn’t my dictate. The managing members made this call. They were the ones to tell me to issue a lockdown and not to allow anyone to leave. So, you can give me the big puppy dog eyes all you want. Not my call.”

  “Please, Tennessee. Will you please go talk to them? They fucking owe me for not suing their asses. Threaten that I will if you have to. I just want to go home and come back tomorrow as if nothing ever happened. I want it all to go away, and as long as I sit here, the pain of what happened is going to swallow me up.”

  He took a deep breath and rose awkwardly from the ground. He moaned as he rubbed his lower back. “Fine. I’ll go talk to them and see if someone can take you back. Maybe security or something.” He walked toward the bathroom door and turned to look at me. “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve to feel the way you do.”

  He exited the bathroom and closed the door behind him, leaving me with nothing but my sick and twisted thoughts. I did deserve these feelings. I fucking deserved every single one. I was the insane woman who lusted after a man who might as well be the damn Devil. I was the one who’d arrogantly signed a contract agreeing to the darkest sexual play one could think of with the belief that there was nothing Harley could do that would break me. I’d even taunted him that he wouldn’t be able to do so. I’d walked into that Hell of my own accord, thrown down the gauntlet, and lost. That’s what makes this all hurt so much. I lost in every way. I’d also read the situation completely wrong. I’d thought there was more. I actually had forgotten the contract was even in place. Harley had made me forget about everything.

  And now all I had was pain. Deep, raging pain. It had to stop. I had to make it stop.

  Walking over to the cabinet beneath the sink, I opened it knowing already what the contents inside would be. Tennessee kept travel size deodorants, tampons, lotions, baby wipes, toothpaste and toothbrushes, floss, mouthwash and razors. Razors to shave your legs or armpits in a rush if somehow you forgot, or if you needed to rid unwanted hair around the bikini line to put on a costume for an event that you weren’t prepared for. Disposable razors for ridding unwanted hair.

  Disposable razors for ridding unwanted pain.

  “Do you have scars on your heart as well?”

  “Not yet.”

  Scars on your heart, Harley had asked. Scars on your heart.

  Yes, I did. I fucking did.

  Without even thinking, and without even focusing on how I managed to do so, I suddenly had a broken razor cast to the side but a tiny razor blade resting between my index finger and thumb. I remembered the familiar feeling of the blade in my fingers and how I would shake while making the first cut. I always shook before the first cut, but then the shaking eased as my pain did. But this time, my hand didn’t shake.

  It didn’t shake.

  Again, without thinking, almost as if I were swimming underwater in a thick and dark current, I sat back down on the ground with my jeans pulled down to my ankles. Spreading my legs, I looked down at the old wounds on my inner thighs. Wounds that had healed. I would heal again. Someday, but not today. Today, I had to ease the pain.

  First cut.

  The long lost biting sting was quickly followed by a rush of relief. It was so powerful that I gasped as the pain squeezed out of me through that tiny line of blood.

  Second cut.

  Third cut.

  Fourth cut.

  Tears ran down my face no
t out of pain, but out of solace. Deliverance of darkness always brought me to the light.

  Fifth cut.

  I had forgotten. Forgotten the feel as the demons sizzled beneath the surface of my skin, clawing their way out with each slice of the razor blade.

  “Do you have scars on your heart as well?”

  “Not yet.”

  Sixth cut.

  Freedom. Escape from the suffocating pain. The out of control spiral.

  Seventh cut.

  I was in control. I was fucking back in control.

  Eighth cut.

  Ninth cut.

  Tenth cut.

  Done.

  Closing my eyes, I leaned my head back against the cool wall as the air of the room licked my wounds, intensifying the burn. The trickle of blood that ran down my inner thighs reminded me of a warm soothing bath. The sting of the tiny wounds was like an ointment to my shattered heart—it burned for a moment but would soon make the hurt go away.

  “Do you have scars on your heart as well?”

  No, was the answer now. Scabs. Only scabs that would soon be picked off.

  Harley would soon be nothing but a scab.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Harley

  Tennessee wouldn’t even look me in the eye. I didn’t blame him. Who would want to look at evil in the purest form?

  “She wants to leave,” he said to all of us as we were starting to get up from the meeting.

  Matthew looked up from collecting his stack of papers. “Who?”

  “Marlowe,” Tennessee said. “I know you want everyone to stay put, but she’s not in a good place and wants to get home.”

  “There’s a hurricane hitting outside. We aren’t going to let anyone go out there and risk being hit by a tree or something,” Alec said.

  “It’s not that bad yet,” Tennessee argued as he glanced my way quickly with daggers in his eyes. “And after what she’s been through, I really feel we should give the poor girl what she wants. I wouldn’t want to be here next to…” Tennessee glared at me. “To be reminded of what happened this weekend.”