Contingent

by Livia Jamerlan

  “Does it matter? Why didn’t you tell me?” I continued to shout.

  She rose from her chair and rushed past me to close the door. “It was an interview. I don’t even know if I got the job.” She walked back to the front of her desk and sat on the edge. No wonder she was dressed up this morning. She had an interview to go to.

  “You have a job.” I paced in front of her. “Why are you looking for another one?”

  “No.” She shook her head slowly. “You gave me an office to study in and then added a salary that I never requested to go with it.”

  “Are you unhappy here?” I stopped to face her, letting my hands fall at my sides.

  “That’s not what I said. I’m just saying that I didn’t ask for this job.” She spoke calmly like she had planned out this argument in her head. Of course she had. She knew what it would do to me if she interviewed for another job. I couldn’t keep an eye on her if she were working somewhere else.

  “But you had no problem taking it when you needed it.” Anger had blocked my train of thought.

  “First of all, I don’t need this job. I could’ve gone back to cleaning houses until I passed the bar. And the money I have in the bank is enough for me to live on. You shoved this job down my throat. Second. I didn’t spend thousands of hours in law school to do what you do.” She crossed her arms over her chest, her eyebrows furrowed together waiting for my response.

  “What I do?”

  “Yes. What you do for a living. Unlike you, Peyton, I believe the bad guys belong in fucking jail.”

  She was pissed.

  Good! So was I.

  “You defend them! I can’t work with them knowing all this shit they have done in the past, guilty or not. I didn’t go to law school to become a defense attorney so assholes like Drew get to walk free.”

  “My father asked me to represent Drew.” I marched closer to her. If it weren’t for my father, I would never have taken Drew’s case.

  “That’s beside the point. It’s not just him. This isn’t what I want to do for the rest of my life.” She waved her hands in the air to emphasize her point.

  “So you’re taking the job?” I asked, my hands trembled with anger as they ran through my hair. I had to keep them busy so I wouldn’t bend her over my knee and spank her.

  “I don’t even know if I got the job.”

  “I met with Paul in court today. And I’m sure they called this morning to verify if you were on any cases that would be a conflict of interest before they offered you the position.”

  “I got the job?” She seemed shocked, but she couldn’t mask the happiness in her voice.

  “Yeah. Congratulations.” He snarled the word. I hated that I couldn’t make her as happy as she would be there. I knew from the very beginning that her working here was never really her passion. Howard Goldstein, her former mentor, had warned me. But I was selfish and I wanted her here. I wanted her close.

  “Oh . . .” She seemed shocked and excited. Why was she shocked that she had gotten the position? This was what she had interviewed for. She was a great attorney and any firm would be lucky to have her. Braelynn’s eyes averted from mine as I coursed my hands with frustration through my hair again.

  “I have a two o’clock meeting. I’ll see you later.” I moved closer to her. I wanted to touch her, feel her heart beat under my palm. Change her mind.

  “Okay. I have an appointment with Doctor Alina and then I have to go to my apartment. I’m going to ask Gus to move in so that even when I’m with you the place won’t be left empty.”

  She was slipping away and I had nothing left to give or bribe her with to keep her close to me.

  Though she had risen on her toes to meet my lips, I turned my face and kissed her cheek. Anger and unwanted doubt coursed through my body. This was what I had expected. What I had predicted. She was slipping from my grasp in every way possible.

  I left her office and headed in the direction of the conference room. Melissa jogged towards me, her heels clicking against the marble floors.

  “You have someone waiting for you in your office. He said he’s your two o’clock,” she said breathlessly.

  “Who?” I questioned, confused that someone was waiting inside my office.

  “Henry McGee. I asked him to wait in the waiting area, but he insisted that it would be better for everyone if he waited in your office.” An older gentleman sat with his hands crossed over his legs. She leaned in and whispered, “Something about him is off. I can feel it.”

  There are days that your body subconsciously knows what’s going on. You may not know exactly what it is, but something is wrong. I thought it was Braelynn pulling away from me, or my obsession to have her close to me. I never considered that my body was trying to warn me away from the man sitting in my office.

  I walked straight into the hands of the devil.

  Braelynn

  Peyton marched out and joined Melissa before walking towards his office. He was furious and hurt. This was something I would have to discuss with my therapist.

  Logging off the computer, I packed up to leave for my appointment, making sure to say goodbye to Melissa. I knew Peyton and I would talk more once we were both home. He wouldn’t let this go.

  I left Peyton’s office with an uneasy feeling buried in my chest. I had landed my dream job, but it came at the cost of hurting him, and possibly crushing us. Was he hurt because I got the job or because I never told him about it? He didn’t want me to leave PH Esquire. A part of me didn’t want to leave; I loved coming to work with him every morning and seeing him whenever I wanted. But I’d worked my ass off for a long time to reach my goal—to live my dream. I wasn’t trying to be selfish, but I didn’t want to stay somewhere I would regret in ten years. I had to make a career for myself. If I continued to work with Peyton, I would always be in his shadow, doing something that didn’t feel right. I would feel like his charity case. I didn’t want to wake up one day and resent the person I had become, or have him resent me because I’d never explored life outside of him.

  We could get through this; I knew that in my heart. I had to believe in our love. We had been through worse in the past, and this was just another bump in the road that life had tossed at us. Or at least that’s what I kept telling myself . . .

  Since Drew had gone to prison somewhere out west, Peyton had eased up on me having a driver everywhere I went. I liked the dirty New York City air, the loud mouth pedestrians who commuted to their jobs, the busy city that never slept. It was what made me fall in love with New York in the first place. It took some convincing, but we had finally reached a compromise. Thomas would only be my driver once the sun set.

  Gus was sitting on the steps of the brownstone when I arrived. “Hey, why didn’t you go in?” I asked.

  “I just got here. I saw you walking down and figured I’d wait for you.” His usually chocolate vibrant eyes were dull when he spoke.

  “What’s the matter, Gussy?” I asked, opening the front door.

  He shrugged. “Alexa is moving back home and I’m without a roommate and without a home since I can’t afford the rent.”

  “Ah.” I flung the door open and walked in, Gus’s footfalls were right behind mine.

  Alexa had been Gus’s roommate on and off for the past two years. She had moved in with her ex-boyfriend over a year ago, but when that didn’t work out she’d moved right back in with Gus since the apartment was in her name. With Alexa leaving Manhattan, the rent-controlled Upper West Side apartment would no longer be available to Gus at the same price. Hence his sour mood.

  “So what do you think you’re going to do?”

  “I have no clue. I have thirty days to find a new roommate and a new place to live.” He dropped his body down on the couch and kicked his foot up onto the ottoman.

  “What if I can solve your problem in thirty-seconds?” I asked, digging in my purse for the new keys I had picked up at the locksmith after my interview earlier that day.

 
Kennedy and I had plans.

  Even though Peyton insisted I move in with him, I wasn’t ready to take that leap of faith. I loved him, but I needed to rebuild myself first and make myself whole again. I had been out of rehab less than a year. If I moved in with him as he’d requested, I would be doing just that—moving in with him. To his home. To where he owned everything. I wanted to wait a while longer until I had enough money in the bank to buy our place. And since that wasn’t happening anytime soon, I had a spare bedroom and a friend who was looking for a place to live.

  “How are you going to do that? Does Haas need a new roommate?” His hands rubbed through his shaggy hair he had been growing out for the past month.

  “No, silly.” I tossed the keys over to him. “I do.” He looked at the keys and then back up to me. “The locksmith will be here soon to put new locks on the door. I have a spare bedroom, and you need a place to live.”

  His eyes bounced several times from the keys to where I stood. “Are you asking me to move in?”

  “Uh, yeah. Was I not obvious?” I dropped on the couch next to him.

  “What about you and Peyton?”

  “What about us?” I lifted my shoulder and winked at him. “Yes, I spend every day and night there, but I don’t live there.”

  “You have a closet full of stuff there.”

  “True, but I have one of those here and my mail comes here, so technically this is my home. And what are you complaining about? Me staying at Peyton’s means you get the whole place to yourself. You and Jon can have sexy time—all the time.”

  Gus tossed a pillow at me. “You’re gross.”

  “Just leave a sock on the door though, okay, in the event I need to come home. I don’t want to walk in on the two of you.”

  “Seriously, Braelynn?” His eyebrows furrowed as he lifted the key ring between his fingers.

  “I’m serious, Gus. Move in with me. If you want to, of course.”

  “Fuck yeah, I want to.” My new roomie’s eyes were vibrant again. “Oh shit! I’ve got to start packing.”

  A burst of giggles erupted deep from within us. “I’m free all afternoon if you want to head over to your place and get started. The only thing I won’t do is move them across town or unpack.”

  “That works for me.” He rose from the couch and stood in front of me, his hands extended.

  “Oh! And I don’t work for free,” I joked.

  “You’re going to charge me to help me move? Did you forget that Poochie and I moved you and Kennedy in here all the way from Boston?”

  I nodded with a cheeky smile. “Pizza seems like good compensation to me.” His hands rested on my shoulders before he pushed me back.

  I jumped off the couch and followed him out the door. Locking it behind me, I grabbed my cell phone out of my purse. I couldn’t avoid the pain in my chest—something between Peyton and me just wasn’t right. I sent him a quick text.

  Hey, I’ll be at Gus’s helping him pack. I’ll be home later. Love you.

  Gus and I attacked his closet first; it took us well over five hours. “Shit, time flew by.” He reached above his head, stretching his long limbs.

  “I think it’s because you have more clothes than most females,” I joked. “You can have Kennedy’s room with the bigger closet, but I still don’t think this will all fit in there.” I checked my phone. Strange. I had no new messages. Peyton always replied to my text messages. Was he still upset about my interview for the DA’s office?

  Gus walked out of his room, giving me a bit of privacy as I dialed Peyton’s cell. The phone rang twice before the call was sent to voicemail. I hit the end button and dialed again. This time it rang only once before it went to voicemail. Assuming he was in a meeting, I decided texting would be my best bet.

  Hey, I’m leaving Gus’s now. I’ll pick up dinner at Two Tony’s. See you soon. Love you!

  When he didn’t respond a few minutes later, I sent him another text.

  Don’t work too hard.

  I tossed my phone back in my purse and met Gus in his living room. “Heading out to see your lover?” Gus teased.

  “Yes, I am.” I smiled as I secured the scarf around my neck. “The brownstone is yours. Move in as quickly or as slowly as you want, k?”

  He strolled over to me, wrapping his long arms around my shoulders. “‘K, baby girl.” His warm lips met my forehead. “Thank you.”

  The sun had set over Manhattan, so Thomas was waiting for me in the town car. My heart was heavy as I sank into the leather seat. Deciding to cook instead of getting carryout, I asked Thomas to take me straight to Peyton’s. Twenty minutes had passed since I’d texted him, but there was still no response. Maybe his phone was dead. But still . . .

  This wasn’t like Peyton.

  The elevator doors slid open and I walked into to a cold, lonely home. There was no sign of him as I strolled further in, turning on lights as I passed through rooms. Trying to force the worry to the back of my mind, I connected my music playlist to the surround sound and began to prep for dinner. Plating some cheeses, crackers and grapes on a cutting board, I left them on the island to be picked on. Forty-five minutes later dinner was ready.

  I walked over to my phone—still nothing. I thought I would never have to call her looking for him, but I had no choice. Locating Melissa’s number on my contacts I called her office line. No response.

  I looked at the clock again. Where the hell was he? I unplugged my cell from the sound system and called Melissa’s cell. It rang three times before she answered.

  “Hello?” her chipper voice came through the speaker.

  “Hi Melissa, it’s Braelynn.”

  “Hey, is everything all right?” The background noise I heard through the speaker told me she was out.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, but I’ve been trying to get ahold of Peyton. Is he with you?” Laughter in the background flooded what she was trying to say. “I’m sorry, Melissa, I can’t hear you.”

  “Hold on.” I heard static and movement until the noise was faint behind her. “Sorry, late happy hour. Um, but . . . Mr. Haas went home hours ago.”

  He had?

  I was at his home, but there was no trace of him. It was still the same as it was when we had left this morning.

  “Is everything okay?” she asked when I didn’t respond.

  Melissa was sweet. Always had been, but she was Peyton’s right hand and I didn’t want to bring her into our issues.

  “I’m sure it is. I’ve been trying to call him all afternoon and evening and still can’t get ahold of him. It’s okay though. Nothing to worry about. Maybe he got caught up in something.” I brushed it off.

  “Okay. If you don’t hear from him let me know.”

  “Thanks. I’m sorry I bothered you.”

  She laughed. “You are never a bother, Braelynn. You’re a lot easier to deal with than my boss.”

  I laughed before I hung up.

  My appetite for real food had vanished, so I pulled the freezer door back and took out a pint of my newest addiction—Ben and Jerry’s Hazed and Confused Core. Leaving only the foyer light on, I changed into an overnight T-shirt, curled up on the couch and looked down at the city below.

  Peyton would be home soon, and then he would push away all my doubts.

  Strong hands wrapped around my body, cradling me like a child. I moaned in protest until his lips brushed against mine.

  “Shh, it’s me, doll.”

  The scent of scotch invaded my nose, but it didn’t bother me. He was home. My head turned slightly as he lifted me off the couch and headed towards the bedrooms. The clock on the cable box said that is was past four in the morning.

  “Where have you been?” I moaned, tucking my head into the crook of his neck.

  “That’s not important. I need you, Braelynn.” His hands gripped tighter on my skin. “I need to be in you. I need to play.”

  Hearing his desperate need for me, I pulled away from his neck, suddenly wide awake.
Though it was dark, I could see the seriousness on his face. His strong jawline was firm and shaded with his five o’clock shadow.

  Kicking the door shut behind him, he lay my body on the cushioned Liberator Wedge. The lower part of my body was positioned at a higher angle, facing him.

  “Undress.” He spoke under his breath.

  He tugged on his tie as I tossed the oversized T-shirt over my head. His eyes still refused to meet mine.

  “Peyton—”

  “What’s your safe word, Lynn?”

  “Coherent,” I whispered in the dark room. It had always been my safe word. Drew stole a part of me when he drugged and raped me, stripping me of any power or control, but Peyton had given it back to me. He had become my savior, my Dom, and my body was his. His to own, to possess and to do with as he pleased. Though he controlled the pain and pleasure he gave me, I controlled how far he took it. I was always coherent.

  He unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it on the floor with mine before he reached for me. My eyes instantly closed, craving his touch. He gripped my panties, tearing the soft material from my skin.

  Peyton tugged on the belts that lay on the bed next to the pillow. Securing the first one above my breast, he brought my right leg up and fastened it. His attention was focused on what he was doing. He was distant, but yet I couldn’t reject him. Sex was what made us, us. It was my newest addiction. His possession was what held me together. I could never deny him.

  He repeated the same process with my left leg until they were both secure and open for his pleasure. He moved to the top of the bed and secured my arms above me, fastening them on the bedpost straps. Once he was finished and I was incapable of escaping he looked down at me. His eyes looked soft at first before filling with anger, and then sadness. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to mine. I whimpered, needing more. Opening my mouth, his tongue swirled around mine, the taste of scotch mixing with saliva. He yanked himself away from me and didn’t look back.

  Peyton turned on his heels and marched over to the bookshelf of toys. I followed his movements, but my heart felt heavy; something was wrong with him. There was never any conversation between us in the playroom. In there I gave myself to him to take and do with as he pleased. He had never crossed the line, causing me pain or discomfort. But this was the first night my heart wasn’t sure what I was in for and it scared me.