Reign on Me

by Zoe Devereaux

  In fact, she’d been the one to end things.

  It was something that she deeply regretted.

  Truth was, she did want him in her life.

  Finally, she uttered the very words out loud. “I want to be with you, Christopher. Somehow, someway, we’re going to find a way to make things work.”

  At some point, there could be the possibility of him actually leaving Club Illusions.

  As the hope sprang within her, she shoved the bed covers off before sitting up tentatively on side of the bed. She looked around the room, finally spying her purse in the corner chair. Carefully, she touched a bare toe to the tiled floor before planting both feet against it. Gripping the side railing, using it for balance, she stood up fully. “I can do this,” she breathed in an unsteady breath and took a tentative step forward. “Just have to take my time.”

  A breathless moment later, she reached the chair. “Thank goodness,” she sighed with relief and sank down in it. Her hand shook as she unzipped the purse and began searching the insides. She grabbed her cell phone from the purse’s front compartment. Several seconds later, she closed her hand about the white business card. After reading the number, she took in another steadying breath. “Alright, here it goes. With all hope, Christopher will give me a chance.”

  Before she lost her nerve, she dialed the number. On the several rings, someone picked up on the other end, and it was a female. “Club Illusions, we’re your guilty pleasure. How may I direct your call?”

  “I---I need to speak to Reign,” she murmured tearfully, gripping the phone with an unsteady hand. “Is he in?”

  “I’m sorry, but Reign doesn’t take personal calls here,” the woman said abruptly. “If you’re interested in his services, you’ll have to go to our website. I’ll tell ya now, honey. You’ll probably have quite the wait.” She gave a faint laugh. “The waiting list is extremely long.”

  The phone died.

  Sobbing silently, hands badly shaking, she held the phone against her forehead. But, when the hospital door burst open, she quickly wiped the tears away and shoved the phone into her purse.

  When she finally looked up, she was relieved to see that it wasn’t her father. Certainly, he was the last person who should be privy to that conversation.

  Instead of carrying medicine, however, the nurse clutched a large white envelope in her hand. “What are you doing out of bed?” the nurse chastised, crossing the room to her, and then stopped with a smile. “But, I understand how uncomfortable that little rickety bed can get despite its good intentions.” She passed the envelope to her. “Don’t worry. I won’t rat you out to your father or the doctor.”

  She frowned in confusion. “What’s this?”

  “The delivery guy dropped it off a short while ago,” the nurse replied, straying from her side to open the curtains fully, and allowed the light to spill in. Then, planting both hands on her hips, the nurse faced her again. “Is there anything else that I can get for you right now?”

  She smiled up at her. “No, I’m fine.”

  Staying silent, she waited until the nurse left. “Now, what could you possibly be?” she mulled aloud, turning the envelope over in her hand. “There’s only one way to find out.”

  She grasped the edges of the seal and began ripping the envelope open. As soon as she broke entry, she reached inside for its contents. Under her fingertips, she felt the glossiness. “Pictures?” she said in confusion, pulling them out. “Why in the world would someone---”

  The scandalous images left her speechless.

  “No,” she whispered distraught and began weeping. “No, no, no…”

  The camera lens had captured the scandalous duo all too perfectly.

  They were caught in the throes of passion.

  Christopher and another woman…

  Her shock increased ten-fold.

  The auburn-haired woman---

  She’d been the very one who’d accosted her at the aquarium days before!

  Their encounter hadn’t been so random after all.

  The strange woman had singled her out for one reason and one reason only. She was staking her territory.

  Christopher…

  As horrifying as the images were, she forced herself to look at them.

  Didn’t she have to face the awful truth?

  All along, he’d been playing a game with her.

  Why had she been such a fool believing that he wanted more?

  Was she that gullible?

  With a shaky hand, she flipped through all of the pictures. In each one, Christopher was on top of the woman. But, for some reason or another, the woman stared boldly into the camera for every shot.

  Yet, was that really strange considering the woman’s aggressiveness? It’d certainly been evident during their encounter.

  She felt inside the envelope again. There, just in the corner, there was a piece of carefully folded notepaper. As she pulled it out, she held her breath.

  A hot tear plopped against it as she read:

  Hayven,

  Thank you for the wonderful entertainment. When you walked into the club, I couldn’t believe that a slip of a girl like you even had the audacity to step inside Club Illusions, let alone participate. My first instincts were to turn you away. But, I couldn’t resist the thrill of a challenge. Here you were a meek and unsociable outcast playing at being a woman. Sure, I’m an unfeeling cad, but, I felt pity for you. Hence, the days of sex that we had—sex that was very unimpressionable, I must add.

  Did you like the pictures that I sent? Glorious hot shit, ain’t they? That’s what fucking hot sex and ecstasy looks like, baby. Take a minute and look over every shot. Maybe you can steal a few pointers or two on how to please a man.

  Am I cruel?

  Probably.

  But, I feel that I have to stoop to this level to get my point across. Don’t show your face at the club again. I promise that you won’t get past the entrance. So, I guess that we can say that this is fucking goodbye.

  I’m out,

  Reign.

  “I’m such a fool,” she sobbed and sucked in a painful breath. Her tears fell freely, and she didn’t even bother to control them. “How could I believe that you really wanted me of all people?”

  But, as she heard noise outside the door, she quickly returned the pictures to the envelope and shoved into her purse. When her father entered, she was still crying, and his pleasant smile died instantly at the sight of her distress.

  “Hayven, what is it, honey?” he asked, rushing over to her, and then squatted down beside the chair. He grasped her hand in his. “Are you in pain?”

  Biting her trembling lips, she nodded tearfully. “Yes.”

  But, rather than physical pain, it was emotional.

  “Let me help you back to bed,” he said, rising to his feet. “I’m going to call the nurse’s station. Maybe they can bring you something for the pain and more sedatives---”

  “Please take me home,” she sobbed softly and grasped his hand in a tight grip. “I don’t want to be here anymore. Please Daddy.”

  “Calm down, sweetheart---relax. Alright, I’ll see what I can do,” Jonas muttered with deep concern. “Come on. It’s back in bed for you until I can get the process going.” Then, as he led her back towards the bed, he passed her a scolding look. “And this time, you better stay in bed.” He lifted the covers back over her as she settled back in hospital bed. “Do you understand me, young lady?”

  “Yes, Daddy,” she nodded meekly.

  He squeezed her hand. “I’ll be back in a moment. And don’t worry, sweetheart, everything is going to be okay.”

  Okay, she mulled, a fast moment later when she was alone. She stared up at the blank ceiling again.

  The fresh sobs left her.

  She’d never be okay again.

  ***

  The afternoon sunlight was being more than a nuisance, he groaned, throwing an elbow over his head, and then winced against the pain. In fact, his head w
as throbbing like it’d explode at any given minute.

  “What’s happened?” he cursed, pushing up in the bed before releasing a bitter curse. Then, he stared around the bedroom in confusion and surprise. He lifted the bed covers, only to discover that he was fully naked. “What the---”

  He shoved the covers off and sat up on side of the bed. Then, he raked an unsteady hand through his curly hair. “Think idiot,” he self-berated himself. “How did end up this way?”

  Standing, he sent a scattered look around the room. Everything seemed to be intact and nothing was out of place.

  His eyes shot to the wet bar.

  But, there was something rather peculiar about the way the things were arranged at the bar. As a matter of fact, they were too carefully arranged. In all the years that he’d been at Club Illusions, he never left the bottles in such a perfect fashion. It was disarray that he’d lived by, and with everything in his life, it’d directly followed suit.

  “No, someone’s been here,” he mulled aloud, stopping midways the room.

  Just then, he heard the jiggling of keys.

  He tensed.

  But, as Corey called out, he relaxed.

  “You in there, bro?”

  “Yeah, I’m in here,” he muttered distractedly, trailing to the armchair, and by the time his friend entered, he’d shrugged on the terry robe. He shot him a long probing look. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

  As Corey stepped further into the room and the light slanted across his face, he couldn’t stay his look of shock. The purplish bruise stained the area at his right temple. “What happened to you? You get run over by a train or something?”

  “With the way that I feel, being overrun by a streamlined subway system sounds sufficient enough,” Corey muttered with bitterness. “I swear that bitch is insane. Not a little, but a lot. She’s literally the poster child of a straightjacket wearing lunatic. Unfortunately, her money and power has concealed that very fact.” He sized him up with a long look. “Sorry bro, I did everything that I could to intervene.”

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Corey looked at him surprised. “You don’t remember?”

  “If I did, I wouldn’t be asking you for insight, now would I?” he quipped tightly, and then closing his eyes, he fought to breach past his fogged memory. “Nothing’s clear in my head. I can’t even fucking think straight.”

  Corey’s usual tanned features were ashen. “Well, let me be the voice of clarity and correction. Last night, I caught wind of the conversation between boss and Red Widow. Let’s just say that Paul wasn’t happy with your latest decision to quit.” He paused momentarily. “But, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to go down. So, I bided my time and followed. Imagine my ‘not’ surprise to find her here.”

  He stiffened. “Was she alone?”

  “At that time, I thought that she was. But, she wasn’t.” Corey shook his head to clear it. “Anyway, when I found her, she was sitting in your bed, butt-naked as a jail bird. To say that she was shocked by my intrusion is an understatement.” A look of amazement crossed his face. “Then, the psycho actually had the audacity to question why I was here. Anyways, before I could learn anything further, I was hit from behind.” He rubbed the back of his head and grimaced. “Five ice packs and one bottle of pain killers later, and I’m still in pain. Not to mention this golf-ball sized knot at the back of my head. Whoever hit me packed one hell of a wallop.”

  “You’re right,” he muttered tersely as his thoughts began to clear. “She spiked my drink with something while I was in the shower. When I came out, she was already in bed, naked and waiting.” The anger fired through him in a rush. “But, I know the bitch. If it were sex that she was after, she’d been begging for it. No, she wanted something else. Playing games---that’s what she’s doing now. But, I refuse to be a willing participant. And she also mentioned Hayven amongst her crazy rambling.” Suddenly, the alarm and panic shot through him. “I have to go.” He looked around the room wildly. “Where are my fucking clothes?”

  Corey quickly retrieved them from the floor and tossed them to him. “Smells like they need a damned good wash, but they’ll do for now.”

  He caught them mid-air. “They’ll have to do. I don’t have any time to waste.” Quickly, he pulled the sweaty Atlanta basketball jersey over his head and then stepped into the gym shorts. Hurrying to the nightstand, he confiscated his cell phone, wallet, and keys. Then, hopping on one foot, he put on the running shoes. Finally ready, he turned and faced Corey again. “Do me a favor, won’t you? I know that this is short notice, and the last thing that I want to do is involve you in this mess with Red Widow. But, in the event that she returns and confers with Paul, can you keep your ear to the ground and find out what you can?”

  “Will do, bro. You know that I got your back. And what Paul did to you, it wasn’t right. With friends like that, you certainly don’t need any enemies.”

  “And he’s certainly made one of out of me,” he quipped tightly. “I always knew that the bastard lacked decency and morals. But, I never imagined that he’d stoop this low.” He blew a frustrated breath. “Fuck, I’m out of here now anyway, so it doesn’t matter. My primary concern is making sure that Hayven is okay. The last thing that she needs is to deal with Red Widow.”

  This Hayven woman---you’re really into her, aren’t you?” Corey asked with interest, surveying him across the room. “I must admit that I’ve never seen you behave like this before over a woman.”

  “That’s because there’s no other woman like her,” he said with brutal honesty. “And more than anything, I want her to be a part of my life.” Then, quickly, he realized that he was sounding like a love-sick fool, and his face warmed with embarrassment. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. Then, bypassing Corey, he headed for the door. “Like, I said. Keep me informed. I have to go.”

  His resolve to fight for her only strengthened with each passing mile, he realized, a half-hour later, and bolted from the car. For the first time in his life, this fight was the right one. But, after their tense exchange yesterday, he had his work cut out.

  Several seconds later, he was passing through the automatic sliding doors as they opened. As he faced the huge circulation desk and greeting area of the hotel, his confidence waned a bit.

  What if she didn’t want anything further to do with him? Perhaps, it wasn’t possible to change her mind. Yet, he did have one lethal weapon.

  Their blossoming feelings…

  The very ones that’d spiraled out of control in such a little amount of time…

  The bastard that he was…

  He’d use them against her…

  …only because it improved their chances at having something real…

  But, when he reached her hotel room, he was more than shocked upon seeing the housekeeper cleaning out the room. As he entered through the open doorway, the housekeeper turned to face him with a look of impatience and disapproval. “I’m sorry, sir. But, you can’t come in here.”

  “The guest here, Hayven,” he muttered quickly as panic set in. “Where is she?”

  “Sir, I’m not allowed to give out any personal information,” the woman said quickly, taking out the dust bunny. “But, I can tell you this. This room is currently available. So, it means that your lady friend has obviously checked out of the hotel.” Turning her back on him, she resumed her cleaning. “Sorry.”

  After muttering an abrupt ‘thanks’, he made way for the elevator quickly. A moment later, he was standing at the circulation desk. “Excuse me,” he quipped tightly, staring at the attendant’s back as she assorted the mail in the slots at the rear of the counter. “I need your assistance with something.”

  She turned towards him with a bright smile. Then, flicking her eyes up and down him, the easy-going smile turned flirtatious. “And how may I be of service?”

  “The occupant in Room 1110,” he began. “Her name is Hayven---”

  T
he buxom blonde interrupted him quickly, and now, her smile was strained somewhat. “Are you Christopher by any chance?”

  He tensed. “Yes.”

  She fished a sealed envelope from beneath the counter. “The occupant was sure that you’d be by to check on her. She asked that we give you this whenever you arrived.”

  After passing the letter to him, the woman scurried away to assist another customer. Yet, he missed the sympathetic, yet guilt-ridden look on her face before she turned away.

  The letter burned his hand as he moved towards the lounge area. Thankfully, it was unoccupied except for the elderly couple sitting several chairs down.

  An open dread filled him.

  In a thousand lifetimes, he’d never believed that he’d be the recipient of a Dear John letter. There was no secret that the letter would be bear nothing but bad news.

  The pure, gut-wrenching letter of rejection…

  In perfectly curled calligraphy letters, his name was etched along the center area of the envelope. For a moment, he just sat there and held it in his hand. Then, taking a steadying breath, he ripped the envelope open. Gripping the pink stationary in his hand, he read:

  Dear Reign,

  Don’t ask me why, but I knew that you’d come here looking for me. I wish that you’d respect my wishes and let things go. I’m sorry if I encouraged you. That wasn’t my intention. Me and you---we come from two different worlds. So, knowing that fact, how could we ever be more? Truth is. You’re a whore and nothing more. I paid you to have sex with me. Why you’re trying to read more into it, I don’t know. What could you possibly offer me past sex? You’re uneducated. You don’t have anything going for you at all. So, in the long run, what do we have? You already know the answer---nothing. That’s why it’s best that we never see each other again. Don’t try to call me. Don’t try to look for me. There’s only one way to say this. I don’t want to see you anymore. Not now. Not ever. It’ll be in both of our interests that you accept it.