The Bad Guy

by Celia Aaron

  “Doesn’t it?”

  “No. She has a multitude of feelings. Far more than you can conceive of. You used to have none. Since you’ve met her, you’ve had exactly two. Love and despair. When you flip the switch on despair, that’s all there is. When she’s sad, or despairing, or unhappy, there’s an entire cocktail of other emotions mixed in with that feeling. It’s not as transparent as yours.”

  “Nuance.” The fucking bane of my existence.

  “Exactly.”

  I drank more.

  “You’re going to kill yourself.”

  I chuckled. “One can hope.”

  “If you’re dead, how are you going to get her back?”

  I laughed, the sound hoarse and ugly in the beautiful space. “She’s never coming back.”

  “She will.” Dad’s voice joined Timothy’s.

  “What are you doing here?” I craned my head to search for him through the leaves.

  “You invited me for Christmas dinner. Remember?” He took the bottle from me and sipped it. “I’m disappointed. Seems like you would’ve opened the Hirsch first.”

  “I think Pappy is a little smoother.” I shrugged and knocked another pot to the ground.

  “Son.” He shook his head as I reached for the bottle. “This isn’t the way.”

  I stared into his eyes, despite the fact there were two of him. “Dad, it hurts.”

  “I know.” He sighed. “I’ve been down this road.”

  “So you kidnapped Mom, then let her go, then had to suffer the consequences of your mistakes, all the while not knowing if the mistake was (a) kidnapping her in the first place or (b) letting her go?”

  “No.” He took a bigger swig from the bottle, no sputtering this time. “I know what it’s like to lose the one you love. But you have a chance to get her back. Don’t you see?”

  I flailed for the bottle, but he backed away.

  “Letting her go was the smartest move you could have made.”

  “Tell that to this.” I pointed at my chest in the general vicinity of where it felt like Mt. Vesuvius had erupted.

  “Heartache.” His eyes, all four of them, had a sparkle I hadn’t seen in quite some time. “It’s good for you, reminds you of what you’ve got to lose.”

  “It’s already lost.”

  “Listen to me.” He grabbed my shirt, and with more strength than I knew he possessed, yanked me until I was in a sitting position, my long legs dangling over the side of the table. “I didn’t spend years teaching you how to fit in, how to be a good person, how to be successful for you to throw it all away right when you’re about to get the life I’ve always wanted for you.” He shook me. “Get ahold of yourself, and get her back!”

  “How?”

  “We need a plan, but we can’t do a damn thing until you sober up.” He grabbed under one of my arms and motioned for Timothy to get the other. Together, they helped me out of the greenhouse, down the back hallway, and then dumped me onto the couch in the library.

  Dad grabbed a throw blanket and tossed it over me. “Sober up. We’ll talk in the morning.”

  “Give me the bottle.” I reached for it, but apparently swiped at my father’s double and came back with nothing but air in my palm.

  “Not a chance. Come on, Timothy, let’s have a chat.” Dad walked out with Timothy at his heels and killed the lights.

  The low fire sent shadows dancing all over the room. Everything reminded me of her. A book still open on the table where she’d left it next to her journal, her fleeting scent in the air, the chair she favored. Every detail built on the last. She was everywhere and nowhere. More stabbing pain, more overwhelming emotion that I wished would stop.

  I clenched my eyes shut. She appeared behind my lids, her eyes glittering as she laughed and turned to run. I chased her. Would never stop chasing her.

  45

  Link

  The Chinese food in my arms sent up curls of steam as I stood on Camille’s front porch. I figured there was no way she’d had time to make a grocery run—especially on Christmas Day—since she’d returned from her trip, so I’d picked up her favorite Chinese from town on the way here. I was thoughtful like that.

  She opened the door and looked past me, as if searching for someone in the street or the bushes.

  “Right here.” I smiled down at her.

  She stepped back and opened the door wide. “Sorry about that.”

  Her hair draped over one shoulder, and she wore a cozy white sweater and some dark gray pants. My cock twitched with anticipation. Surely, after time away, she’d realized we were meant to be and she’d finally, finally, give it up.

  “I brought your favorite.” I strode into the kitchen and set the box of food on her table. “Thank god Mr. Xiao’s was open.”

  “It smells like heaven.” She followed me and opened a cabinet to grab some plates.

  I walked up behind her and wrapped her in my arms. “I missed you so much.”

  She rested her hands on my forearms as I nuzzled into her fragrant hair. “I missed you, too.”

  “Yeah?” I turned her around and kissed her hard. She needed to know how much I felt for her, how every moment without her was torture.

  I ran my hands down her sides to her ass, squeezing and lifting her onto the counter. She pushed on my chest, but I wouldn’t be denied. Not this time. Her lips parted on a noise, and I delved inside, tasting her while running my hands beneath her shirt, her body so warm and smooth. I needed more. My thumb grazed the bottom of her tit, the softest skin in the world.

  She leaned back and broke the kiss. “Hey, slow down.”

  “I can’t.” I pulled her closer so she could feel how hard I was. “I love you.”

  “Link.” She pushed against me. “Please. Just give me a minute, okay?”

  Silly me to expect an “I love you” back. Fuck.

  I tried to measure her unwillingness, testing to see if it was something I could overcome. The hard set of her little jaw told me it was a losing battle. I had to time this just right, find a way to get past her usual skittishness. Our time apart—and the bizarre incident with Sebastian—only reinforced my need to get her under my thumb. Just the thought of her with him burrowed under my skin. She was mine. I’d put in the hours. There was no way I’d let another man step in front of me in line. Her pussy had my claim stamped all over it.

  I ran my palm down her cheek and forced a smile. “Sorry, babe. I got a little carried away.”

  “It’s okay.” She patted me on the chest. “I’m just hungry and tired is all.”

  “In that case, lucky for you, your prince has arrived.” I lifted her off the counter and scooted her into a chair at the table. “I’m excellent at serving food from Chinese cartons and, even better, I’m kind of a BFD when it comes to tucking you into bed.”

  She smiled, the strain leaving her face. “My champion.”

  “You bet.” I stowed my disappointment and played the dutiful boyfriend, asking questions about the Amazon and her trip as we ate.

  She answered slowly, focusing more on her food than telling me about her expedition. My heart warmed—maybe she didn’t have a great time because she’d missed me so much?

  I popped the last wonton into my mouth. “So why cut it short?”

  “Funding dried up sooner than we thought.” She rose and put our dishes in the sink.

  “Oh.” I boxed up the leftovers and put them in the fridge. “They didn’t have all the money sorted out before you left?”

  “I thought so, but it didn’t last.” She yawned, her wide-open mouth giving me lots of ideas.

  If I couldn’t get into her pussy tonight, maybe she’d give me a blowy before bed. “I guess that’s not too surprising. Sending a limo to get you wasn’t the most cost-effective move.”

  She turned and leaned against the sink. “I suppose not.”

  I bumped my hip into hers, scooting her over, and flipped on the faucet. Doing dishes wasn’t exactly my thing, but if it got
me closer to my goal, I was all for it.

  “You don’t have to do that.” She grabbed a hand towel and stood at the ready to dry.

  “I don’t mind.” I washed the first dish and passed it to her. “I have something to confess, so I figured getting brownie points was a good idea.”

  She swiped the dish dry, her small wrist twirling the blue hand towel around the ceramic surface. “What is it?”

  “While you were gone, I thought I saw you.”

  The plate crashed to the counter, but didn’t shatter. She swiped it back up and placed it in the drying rack. “Yeah? Where?”

  “I took a client to this fancy restaurant, but it was closed. I peeked inside and saw—you’ll never believe this—but I saw Sebastian Lindstrom fucking this smoking hot blonde.” I cleared my throat and handed her the next dish. “Not as hot as you, of course.”

  She nodded and continued drying.

  “But the crazy thing was, she looked like you.” I grabbed a fork and soaped it up. “On top of that, your student Mint kept coming at me with all these conspiracy theories about something happening to you. So, last night, I got to drinking and decided that Sebastian had kidnapped you and was keeping you prisoner at some big mansion in the Catskills.” I rinsed the fork and handed it to her.

  “That’s crazy.” Her voice barely made it over the sound of the running water.

  “Right? Worse, Mint convinces me to drive up there and check.”

  “What?” She grabbed my wrist, her face ashen.

  “Yeah. We drove up there last night. Found that fucking maniac Sebastian just walking along the road.”

  “Was he okay?”

  I laughed. “Yeah, as okay as a psycho can be.”

  “What happened?”

  “We confronted him about you.” I turned the water off and shook my head. “Crazy accusations, the whole nine yards. He denied it all, and then I got your text. Like, I was on the verge of busting down his gate, searching his house, and getting fired just because Mint convinced me to join in on his Nancy Drew nonsense. Can you imagine?”

  “No.” Her voice shook.

  “Hey.” I pulled her into my arms. “Don’t worry. He didn’t fire me. I don’t think he will.”

  “Right.” She nodded against my chest, though she trembled.

  “Seriously.” I pulled her back and looked into her eyes. “If he was going to do it, he would have done it while I was at his house. It was all so bizarre. He’s probably just as confused as I was.”

  “Yeah.” She crossed her arms over her stomach. “Probably.”

  I kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry.”

  She gave me a wan smile as I tossed the dish towel on the counter.

  “Now to the bedroom part.” I held out my elbow.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Just tucking me in, remember?”

  “Scout’s honor.” Cockblock.

  She took my arm, and we walked down the short hallway to her room. Clothes were stacked on her dresser and overflowing from her closet. Weird.

  “What’s with the clothes explosion?”

  “Um, Veronica brought over some stuff she’d had in storage while I was gone.” Camille shrugged and sat on her bed.

  I took it as an invitation and sat next to her.

  “Link—”

  “I know.” I sighed. Never in my life had I invested so much in a woman who wouldn’t even let me fuck her. But Camille was worth it. Somehow, I just knew. “I’m not going to ravage you, promise. But I do have a Christmas present for you.”

  She winced. “I didn’t have time to get you anything. The whole coming home early thing threw me off.”

  “Don’t worry.” I took her hand and kissed the back of it. “You already have what I want.”

  “Listen, Link.” She took my hand in hers and turned to face me. “We need to talk.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.” The ring in my pocket would seal the deal. Definite blowy tonight, at the very least.

  She hesitated, as if picking over her words before saying them. “When I was gone, I had time to do some thinking about my future.”

  “I did, too.” Maybe I was aiming too low with the cock sucking idea. After all, getting engaged should definitely include sex, right?

  “And I thought about us, how and when we met, how my parents had just died, and I needed someone to be there for me. And you were.”

  “I’ll always be there for you.” I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. “Whatever you need, I’m there.”

  “Thank you.” She took a deep breath. “I feel like I owe you an apology.”

  “What for?”

  “All this time that we’ve been together, I’ve never given you all of me.” She glanced at the bed. “You know what I mean.”

  “I do.” My cock hardened, very much interested in where this was going.

  “And now, I’ve sort of looked at it through a different lens. I leaned on you but kept you at arm’s length. Maybe that was because I wasn’t sure about us, you know?” She pinned her thumbnail between her teeth. “The more I think about it, the more I realize how unfair that was of me.”

  Fuck yes it was. “No, you weren’t ready yet. I understand. And I think I know where you’re going with this.”

  Her eyebrows fell, and she cocked her head. “You do?”

  I nodded. “I’m already one step ahead, babe. I feel the same way.”

  Her nose crinkled. “I’m not sure if I’m being clear—”

  “I know exactly what you’re saying.” Here it was, my moment. I dropped to the floor, hitting one knee as I turned to face her. “You are the one for me, Camille. Living without you isn’t an option anymore.” I pulled the ring box from my pocket and opened it.

  She paled, her hand going to her mouth. Fuck yes, I’d just shocked and awed her panties right off. I could feel it.

  “Will you marry me?”

  46

  Camille

  “You just left him hanging?” Veronica’s voice came through in a screech.

  I’d called her as soon as Link had left my house. No one else could walk me through the sinking pit of emotion I was mired in.

  I gripped the phone far harder than necessary. “No. I mean, sort of. I told him I needed to think about it.”

  “And he was okay with that?”

  “No.” I fell back on my bed and stared at the ceiling. “I don’t know. He seemed disappointed, but still hopeful?”

  “How do you feel?”

  “I don’t know. Worse.”

  “Worse than what?”

  “I wanted to tell him that I needed some time to myself. You know, to decompress from the trip and to sort things out. Not exactly breaking up with him, I guess. More like doing a trial separation so I could clear my head. But then he got on one knee and proposed, and I sort of panicked.”

  When he’d asked me to marry him, my first impulse had been dread. I should have been flattered, maybe even happy. But I didn’t understand myself anymore. There was only one constant in my mind—Sebastian. Thoughts of him pervaded every breath I took. What was he doing now? I glanced to the light overhead where Timothy had removed a tiny camera and microphone. Sebastian couldn’t watch me anymore, but indelible hints of him remained. Not in the light, or his coat, or in anything tangible—he’d gotten inside me. Even though I was free, some part of me was still bound to him.

  “—Camille, you there?”

  “Yeah, sorry. What were you saying?”

  “You know I’m not big Link fan, right?”

  “Yeah.” I was fairly certain Veronica wanted to kill him during the first month we were together.

  “But you went on this trip, and now, suddenly, you want to separate? It’s not like you. And I’m thinking maybe you need more time to sort out how you’re feeling.” She hummed for a second. “If you still want to get rid of him after the cool down period, I’m all for it.”

  The urge to tell her the truth about my “trip” rampage
d through my skull but stopped before it reached my tongue. If I told her about Sebastian, she’d do something about it—call the police, march down to his office and confront him, set his house on fire—all options were on the table where she was concerned. Though I was angry with him for what he’d done to me, I didn’t want to see him behind bars. Maybe it was the Stockholm Syndrome kicking back in, but the thought of him in an institution made my insides twist.

  “You’re probably right.” I glanced to Sebastian’s coat. “I need to sleep on it, at the very least. Oh, how’s your mom?”

  She sighed. “I don’t know. Not good. She’s still got a sharp tongue, I can verify. I’ve heard all about how I’m not eating right, dress like a floozy, and need to find a good man to take care of me.”

  I laughed. “She’s just the older version of you.”

  “Sicker, too.”

  Here I was yapping on about my messed-up life while her mother was dying. Guilt sprinkled on top of my other emotions like poison pellets. “I’m sorry.” I wished I could have hugged her. “Is there anything—”

  “No, but thanks. You’ve helped me keep my mind off it. All this worrying that you’d been kidnapped by a drug cartel and forced into sex slavery kept me occupied for the last week. Promise me you’ll tell me all about your trip over a bottle or three of red when I get back.”

  “I’ll definitely have a story to tell.” I ran my hand down Sebastian’s coat.

  “Good. And I know you know, but I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” Tears prickled. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Same to you.” The line went quiet.

  My mind wandered back to the house in the hills. Every day of my captivity was clear in my mind. The kidnapping, the surveillance, the anklet, the library, the greenhouse—the memories created a unique prison.

  My captivity was like a peculiar, violent bird; I had to keep it caged and away from everyone lest it tear them to pieces. Including me. I pushed the thoughts of Sebastian down, forcing them to the background. Grabbing his coat, I carried it into the hallway and shoved it in the entryway closet.

  I crawled back into bed and closed my eyes. Despite my efforts at locking Sebastian away, images of him lulled me to sleep. His voice and his body pulled me into the darkness—the only place I ever felt truly alive.