His to Belong To

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His to Belong To Page 14

by jm blake


  “If I ever make it to the States, I’ll look you up! I’d love to see your uni.” I squeeze her arm and smile. I’ll probably never see Pippa again.

  “You do that. And don’t forget-‘I can and I will’” I told Pippa that whenever I feel like I can’t figure something out and feel frustrated- I tell myself that phrase repeatedly until it clears up.

  She nods, and tears fill her eyes. “Got it.” She wipes them away and waves as she hurriedly moves to the other side of the lab. Her hand repeatedly goes up to her face, and she disappears into the bathroom.

  Yup, today sucks.

  “You ready to go, love?” Ayden is at my elbow, and judging by the look on his face, he can tell this is hard. “We are going to meet Bash for dinner and then head home. Alright?” I smile and nod. “I’m ready.”

  Alec walks us out the lot, and he also grabs me into a tight hug, then a handshake, then a hug again. Ayden growls under his breath, but I hug Alec back anyway. I thank him for letting me invade his lab and let him know that he’s got this- Apollo is going to be amazing in his hands. I lean in and give him a hearty kiss on the cheek and hop into the car. I hear Ayden tell him a few things, as I take a few deep breaths and get myself under control. By the time he settles into his seat, I’m back to normal. The car starts up, and before he pulls out, he turns to me, studying my face intently. “Good to go?”

  That sticky feeling threatens to crawl up again, so I nod enthusiastically and give him a thumbs up. “Yes, just hungry.” He continues to watch me before he finally settles back. “Well, let’s get you fed.” He shifts the gears, and I stare out of the window, the lab fading into the distance.

  * * *

  Ayden

  Today was awful.

  It started phenomenally. I woke up to Cass’s beautiful eyes watching me sleep. She kissed me in the dim room, and I couldn’t help but escalate the warmth to something more. I fell asleep still inside of her and had a strange dream of a beach with no water, no people, no sand. It was so unsettling that when I woke up to an empty bed, I was frightened. I heard Cassidy in the loo, and shook off the unsettled feeling, joining her shower. I made love to her one more time before I had the intense displeasure of watching my beloved housekeeper fall apart at Cassidy’s thanking her for taking care of her. I tried to joke my out of it a la Bash, but it was horrible seeing the emotion Mrs. Manning was trying to hide. I cringed when she told Cassidy that she expected to see her soon, and I’m almost positive that Cassidy wanted to run out of the room.

  I managed to turn the mood by driving us to Cambridge in my new Acura, but that faded quickly once everyone in the lab started to crack under the emotion of her leaving. I silently curse myself for putting restrictions in her contract that prevented the teams from reaching out to her once she left. I had no idea how much she had come to mean to the crew in Cambridge, and even poor Alec looked like he wanted to kidnap her and hide her in the basement. She’s never mentioned wanting to keep in contact with anyone and looked somewhat amused when Pippa talked about visiting her in California. She meant it when she said no attachments.

  The drive back to London was quiet, Cassidy lost in her thoughts, and me trying to decipher this feeling that is swelling in my stomach. It started this morning when I woke up and it’s creeping on the edges of my consciousness, like a wolf hiding in the brush, waiting to jump out at any moment.

  It’s not panic, alright?

  Bash thought she might like to dine at Circus, an unusual choice, but given her joie de vivre and love of music, it suits her. It’s not my standard type of venue, but if it helps shake that pensive look off her beautiful face, I’m game.

  We managed to arrange for a table near the stage, and I can already see her interest perk up. Bash had phoned ahead and asked for the tasting menu, so the first course arrives shortly after we are seated. Cassidy’s eyes widen at the choices, and she polishes off her jasmine rice before I can even sip the questionable Prosecco. The purple lighting and bright neon flashes turn her hair blue-black, her head swiveling at the servers’ uniforms.

  “What’s the stage for?” She and Bash are having a silent war over the Kirin glazed edamame.

  “They have entertainment,” I smile as I see her point over my brother’s shoulder, and then snatch the last beans when he foolishly turns around. He scowls when he realizes she pranked him, and her dimples flash at him in triumph. He laughs at her loudly and taps her forehead. “Cheeky, miss.”

  “What kind of entertainment?” Before I can answer her, the lights flash, and pink strobes punctuate the walls. A loud pulsing beat spills from the speakers, and a line of black-clad dancers skip onto the stage. Bash is clapping while Cassidy hurriedly slips on her glasses while jiggling in her seat. The troupe hops from side to side, clapping in rhythm and pointing at the patrons in the crowd. The first dancer catches a large hoop from backstage and starts a complicated routine with jumps and leaps. A second dancer produces a lighter while performing a vapor pull. Our server arrives with the next course: rare beef salad and garlic prawns. I manage to snag a few forkfuls before Cassidy notices, and Bash also slips in a few bites. Cass is still watching the stage with a big smile on her face before she glances at me and sees me chewing. Her eyes zero in on the table, and as I expected, she happily attacks the fare, swaying in her seat, attention pinned to the stage. The second act is a cabaret; three scantily attired women with short blonde wigs and a series of barre gyrations. Cassidy’s eyebrows raise as one of the dancers winks at our table.

  “You guys know her?” Her voice is amused, and one dimple is peeking out. I raise my hands in innocence.

  “Not me. Bash?” My brother is silent, narrowing in on the girl, who is now openly leering at him.

  “Perhaps. She does resemble an old…friend of mine.” I roll my eyes and quirk a brow at Cassidy. I know all about my brother and his ‘friends’. He may ridicule my nighttime habits all he wants, but he is worse than I could ever be in a lot of ways. She grins at me, shrugging adorably. The cabaret scurries off stage, and now a lithe young man is swinging from the ceiling.

  Our last course arrives-a chocolate fizz fondue- and the previous entertainer bows off stage. The music continues, lights flickering back to their original brightness. Cass looks much more relaxed, and I remind myself to thank my brother for the suggestion. I discreetly pass our server my Black Amex and smile at the two who are quibbling over the last bite of brownie. I generously tip, and the light over our table dims. “I think that’s the signal that our time slot is finished.” I pull out Cass’s chair, and Bash stands to look over his shoulder. He passes our waitress a folded note and straightens the edges of his jacket. He waggles his brows and strides to the front door. You don’t need a seer to predict how his night will end.

  The valet sees us coming and quickly jumps to fetch our cars. Cassidy stops short, realizing that while we are headed home, Bash is going his own way. Seeing her pause, he smiles at her gently and takes both of her hands in his. His face is grave- the gravest I’ve seen in a long time. The two of them developed quite a close relationship over the last month, and I know he is devastated at her leaving.

  “Dr. Masters. Thank you for coming here and saving our arses. We are forever in your debt. I hope your time hasn’t been too difficult?” He tilts his head in my direction and grins. Her blue eyes crinkle at the corners, and she squeezes his fingers. “No, not too bad.” I see her slim throat spasm as he leans in and kisses the first cheek and then the other. He wipes his lips over both her eyelids and forehead before whispering something briefly in her ear. He finishes with a small kiss on her lips, chuckling at my involuntary snarl. “Until we meet again, gorgeous.” He jumps recklessly in his car, salutes us, and then speeds off into the night.

  The tense look is back on her face, sad eyes watching the diminishing lights of his car. I take her hand and lead her to the Acura. “Let’s go home, love.”

  * * *

  Cassidy

  “I think that’
s it.”

  I take one last look around Ayden’s bedroom, peeking in the bathroom for any stray items.

  “Yes, I think you’ve got it all.” His voice is quiet as he slips on a pair of suede driving shoes. It’s still dark outside as my flight takes off at seven am. I’m wired, jittering, and pacing all over the room. I should be exhausted- I slept for shit last night. I woke up repeatedly, sometimes on a jump, other times slithering abruptly out of sleep. Each time, Ayden’s arms were wound tightly around me, his leg trapping mine. I finally fell into an exhausted nap an hour before my alarm went off. I shut it off grumpily, and he pulled me back to his muscular chest, silently stroking my hair out of my face. Neither of us said anything for a long while before I had to pull away to get dressed. And now I’m twitching around the room, oddly anxious and nervous.

  “I feel bad about getting Clayton up this early. You sure I shouldn’t just take a taxi?” He’s got his back to me, tying his joggers at the waist. I bite my lip and yank on my braid as he turns around.

  “He would be most hurt if you did. He’s insistent on taking you to Heathrow himself.” A cream sweater slips over his head, and he grabs his phone and stuff from the nightstand.

  “Let’s get your cases to the foyer.” He’s still quiet, subdued even, as we walk down the lucite stairs. I take one last look around the spacious living room, blinking rapidly at the ache beginning behind my lids. I pull my satchel onto my shoulder as Ayden pulls my two huge suitcases. Even this early morning, his valet is standing at attention and hurries to take the bags from us. Clayton is already outside; the Bentley shiny and growling. He takes the bags from the valet (I finally found out his name- Damien) and places them in the open trunk. My door is opened, and I’m handed in as Ayden slides on the opposite side. Clayton settles in the driver’s seat and slowly pulls out of the drive. The airport isn’t too far, and with the early hour, the grey streets of London are empty. I watch as the newly familiar sights of Ayden’s neighborhood slip past me, like phantoms in the dawn. A warm hand slides under mine and twines around my fingers.

  “You have your passport and ticket, yes?” I nod.

  “Phyl put them in that fancy folder for me with a nice card— you make sure you treat her like a queen. She’s amazing.” His full mouth quirks in that little smile.

  “Yes, she is the envy of every exec at DevCo. I live in terror that another CEO is going to seduce her away from me. Or worse- she gets married.” I chuckle. Only Ayden would think marriage was worse than a defection.

  “You’ll think about watching the movie?’ I tried to get him to watch a highbrow zombie movie- even going as far as referencing the thick book on which it was based. He managed to watch the trailer, and that was about it. The one scene where the zombies are on the airplane pretty much sealed it.

  “Cassidy, that movie looks terrifying. The devils and such are bad enough, but an actual realistic zombie attack? No, thank you. Do you know that I still can’t look Tamara in the eye? Poor gel probably thinks I hate her the way I scurry away every time I hear her name.” I giggle at that, and even Clayton has a hearty chuckle. “Maybe after a few stiff pints, I will think about it. That’s about all you are going to get.”

  I see signs for Heathrow out the window, and the stickiness sets in. My stomach starts to cramp, and that sharp pain settles in my right hand. All I have to do is hold it together for a few more minutes

  I can do this. I can.

  “And try not to kill Bash, ok? He loves you.”

  He rolls his eyes and gives me an amused shrug. “No promises there. That fool knows he’s on borrowed time.” We both laugh and then sober. Clayton pulls the car into a VIP slot and hops out of the vehicle. “Let’s get you home, love.”

  My legs feel like cement, and it takes every bit of my strength to place one foot in front of the other. Clayton takes my travel folder and leaves to check in my bags at the canopied counter. I frown a little.

  “This looks fancy.” His eyes are trained on my face; his amber eyes crinkled at the corners. “I asked Phyl to make sure you had a stress-free trip home. That includes full curbside service. Indulge me, yes?”

  I stare at his handsome face, committing every bit to memory. I can see Clayton out of the corner of my eye, a few steps away with my waiting ticket.

  I open my mouth, but no sound comes out. A sad, sweet smile crosses his face, and he just nods. “I’ve had a wonderful time.” I nod too and clear my throat.

  I can do this.

  “Me too.” There are so many more things I want to say, but they are all jumbled up in my fears and stubbornness like a Gordian knot of emotion. “You take care of yourself, ok?”

  “You take care, Dr. Cassidy Michael Masters. Thank you..for everything.” His strong hands cup my face and place a gentle, honeyed kiss on my lips. They cling as we pull apart, and he rests his forehead on mine for a moment. My hands are fisted at my sides, straining to grip him to me with all of my might. A ball of fire threatens to erupt, and I pull back first. I give him a brilliant smile and take a step backward. “Bye.” I take two more steps, a long-hidden part of me screaming to stop. I ignore it with all of my being.

  “Bye, love.”

  I take a few more steps and turn to take the folder from Clayton. “Cassidy!” I turn abruptly, and he starts to say something and then stops. He winks at me and shoves his hands into his pockets. I will always remember how he looked then- handsome, grave, but with a warm twinkle in his eyes. Clayton hands me my stuff, and I lean up and give him a giant buss on the cheek. My feet move without my heart, and I push for one more step.

  Just one more.

  One more. Don’t turn around—one more.

  Keep going. It’ll be alright. You can do this.

  That’s it. Almost there.

  Whatever you do, don’t turn around.

  Don’t. Turn. Around.

  * * *

  Ayden

  If she turns around, I will never let her go.

  Come on, love. Just one look and I will tie you to me forever.

  If she just looks over her shoulder, she will see me standing here, my heart hers for the asking.

  Cassidy. Please.

  She never turns around.

  II

  San Francisco and Home Again

  In terms of tensile strength, tungsten is the strongest out of any natural metal (142,000 psi). But in terms of impact strength, tungsten is weak — it’s a brittle metal that’s known to shatter on impact.

  ‘I just wanna keep calling your name

  until you come back home’-

  Taylor Swift, Zayn

  Ayden

  One year later

  “Phyl, what have I got today?” I hurry into my office, glancing at my watch as I fly through the door. I have a meeting with a potential target; as usual, I am running late. Scatch that- not as usual. I’ve been punctual and on the spot my whole life. I abhor lateness- it’s a rabid pet peeve of mine.

  But the last few months…

  “The group has postponed for an hour; you’re safe. Also, you’ve got a meeting with Alec and lunch with Pat. Oh, and your brother is on his way up.” I nod absently. “Anything else?” I look up at her lovely face, which contorts in sympathy. “No. That’s it.” She looks like she wants to say something, but quickly changes her mind. “I’ll bring you a coffee.”

  She hurries out of the office, and I fall back into my chair. I rub my hands roughly down my face and swing around for a glimpse of bustling Londontown. It’s a lovely day, warm and sunny. I can see the dots of tourists and locals enjoying the mild weather, praying that the fickle clouds don’t appear and ruin their plans. This project will be good for me- I need a distraction from the lonely mess my life has become.

  “Alright?” I swivel around and see Bash in my doorway. He takes in my appearance as if looking for issues and then settles into the seat in front of my desk. My clothing is flawless, a new pin-striped Desmond Merrion Supreme, thank you very much. But I�
�m sure the bags under my eyes are not in line with a thirty-six thousand pound bespoke suit. “Yes, I’m fine.”

 

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