by Hannah Ford
SHEER DISCIPLINE
(Sheer Submission, Part Four)
Hannah Ford
Contents
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SHEER DISCPLINE
SHEER DISCIPLINE
Copyright © 2018 by Hannah Ford
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SHEER DISCPLINE
(SHEER SUBMISSION, PART FOUR)
SHEER DISCIPLINE
(Sheer Submission, Part Four)
AVEN
The voicemail ended, and Conner Sheer’s voice faded back into nothing.
The silence that now permeated the car suddenly seemed jarring, even though Conner had only been talking for about fifteen seconds.
The screen mounted on the Porsche’s interior flashed a message.
“End of voicemail,” the perky robotic voice said, reading it out loud. I reached out and pushed the button on the touchscreen, the one marked “REPLAY.”
Conner’s voice filled the car again.
“Hey, it’s me. So listen. I know you’re probably worried about me, but I wanted to let you know that I have everything under control.” There was a pause, and then the same background sounds that had been there the first time came wafting through the speakers. I could identify them easier now – birds chirping softly, a stick cracking, the swish of fabric, like maybe Conner was adjusting his jacket.
Wherever he was, he was outside, maybe in the woods.
“I just need a little more time with her. I just…” he trailed off, and then sighed. “Yeah, I just need a little more time. So let me have it, okay? Thanks, bro.”
“End of voicemail.”
This time, I didn’t push the replay button.
This time, I unbuckled my seatbelt and opened the door.
I walked around the back of the car to where Landon was just finishing filling up his stupid fancy car with stupid fancy gas.
“Get back in the car,” he said when he saw me standing there. “It’s snowing.”
“You lied to me,” I said, and my hands curled into fists by my sides.
“I’m not lying to you,” Landon said easily, pulling the handle of the gas pump out of the car and placing it back into its holder. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, something sleek and black and leather and expensive-looking. “It is, indeed, snowing. And it’s getting worse. Get back in the car.”
“No.” I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest. “I can’t believe I actually fell for all your bullshit.” I laughed, a hollow sound that echoed through the empty-except-for-us parking lot. “I’m usually a lot smarter than that. But for some stupid reason, I believed you.”
Landon turned to look at me, now seeming to take me seriously. His blue eyes filled with what looked like genuine concern, and I told myself it wasn’t real, that nothing about him was real. “What are you talking about?” he asked quietly.
“What I’m talking about is that you knew Conner was with her.” I shook my head, another bitter laugh escaping my lips, even as I could feel the hot tears burning the back of my eyes. “You knew Conner was with her this whole time, and you never said anything. You just let me keep believing you had no idea where they were or what they were doing. Even after last night, even after you knew how much I needed to talk to her, even after I told you she’s all I have.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“He called you,” I said, savoring the quick glimpse of astonishment that passed over Landon’s chiseled features before they carefully arranged themselves back into their usual mask of stoicism. “He called you, and he left a voicemail, and it played through your fancy car’s speakers, because that’s what happens in fancy cars.”
“What did the voicemail say?” His tone of voice matched the expression on his face – detached and unemotional. I hated it. I hated the way he just shut down like that.
It was worse even than what he’d done to me last night, when he’d belted me, or how he’d been this morning, hitting that heavy bag with no gloves. At least then he was showing some kind of emotion.
He pulled a black American Express card out of his wallet and slid it into the cardholder, waiting for it to read the chip.
His calmness infuriated me, and I reached into the reader and pulled out the card before he could stop me, took the card and tossed it into the black metal garbage can that sat between two pumps.
Landon’s eyes blazed. “You are treading on very thin ice, Ms. Courtland.”
“The voicemail said that Conner needed more time with Violet,” I said, ignoring his threat. “That he knew you were worried, but that he just needed a little more time, and couldn’t you just give him that, bro?” I did a pretty horrible impression of Conner on the last word, using the annoying upspeak that had been present in his tone.
Landon didn’t say anything. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, his face impassive.
“Who are you calling?” I demanded.
He didn’t answer me. When the person on the other end of the line answered, Landon growled, “Please cancel my American Express.” He hung up without waiting for a response and turned his attention back to me. “You need to calm down.”
“I’m not going to calm down!” I started to walk back around the back of car, back toward the passenger side door. I needed to get my purse, to call Emma, to call the police, to call someone. If Landon thought I was just going to continue on with this sick charade, then he was wrong.
“Yes, you are,” he said, and now he was next to me, pushing me up against the back of the car, his hands on the top of it, pinning me in. “You’re going to relax, because I said so.” His eyes were hooded in that way he got when he wanted to punish me.
“No.” I shook my head. “I’m not.”
“Then there will be consequences.” His voice was low, dark, and my belly tightened.
“Like what?” I shot back. “You’ll lie to me again?”
“I did not lie to you.”
“That’s semantics.” He might not have technically lied to me, but he definitely kept something from me. He knew more than he was telling me. “What was Conner talking about, Landon? What did he mean?” I demanded.
His jaw clenched, hardening into a straight, determined line. “I’m sure Violet will tell you when you get to Vermont. It will be better for you to hear it from her.”
My mouth dropped. “What? No fucking way. You’re going to tell me, and you’re going to tell me now. Or that’s it, this is over, and I call the police.”
“Aven.” He pushed into me harder, his body strong against mine, and he said my name like I was a child who didn’t know what she was getting herself into.
“Don’t say my name like that.”
“This is a very complicated situation,” he growled, pushing his pelvis against mine, his chest flattening my breasts against his body. “A situation that could impact my business, that could impact people’s lives. That could impact Violet’s life, that could have consequences far beyond what you could imagine.”
“Are yo
u fucking kidding me?” I spit. “You think I give a shit about your business? Sorry if I don’t care about you being able to buy another stupid Porsche.” I pushed him away, and he let me go. I started walking away, back toward the passenger side door, giving the side of his car a kick as I went. Not that it did anything. I imagined myself grabbing a key, trailing it along the side of the paint job, leaving a ragged, white line right down the middle of the pristine black exterior.
I would get my phone and call Emma, I would have her come and get me. Or I would call an Uber. Just something to get me the hell out of here.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Landon growled, following me.
“Away from you.”
“The hell you are.”
I tried the passenger side door. It was locked. I turned around and he was right there again, his strong chest and broad shoulders blocking me from the snow that had started falling even faster now.
“Open the door,” I demanded.
He leaned in close to me. The smell of the leather from his jacket and his woodsy cologne assaulted me, and my body, traitorous as always, immediately responded, my cheeks heating, my pussy flooding with a delicious warmth, and inexplicably, the urge to fall to my knees.
“You obviously don’t know how this works, Ms. Courtland,” he said, his voice low. My heart beat a staccato rhythm against my ribs, and my pulse hummed. “I make the rules. You don’t.”
“Not when it comes to this.” I could feel my eyes filling with tears now, and I blinked them away angrily. Snowflakes hit my lashes, and Landon reached up and pushed them away. “Don’t touch me,” I spit, but he didn’t stop.
“You have no idea what it is you’re dealing with,” he said. And now his voice was softening, and somehow this was worse than when he was being harsh. At least then I had something to dull the pain of the hurt, the worry, something to be angry about.
“Then tell me.” I wiped my hand at the back of my eyes angrily, as if that would push the tears back into my eyes.
He leaned down and kissed my cheeks, my eyes, my forehead. His lips were soft and warm, and the snowflakes fell between us, melting on my skin as he kissed them away.
“I can’t do that.” He pulled back and looked at me, tracing his finger over the curve of my jaw. “You need to hear it from Violet.”
I closed my eyes, feeling my heart beat against his, trying to reconcile the fact that he’d kept something from me with how I was feeling – like I wanted him to gather me in his arms, to hold me, to kiss me, to protect me.
“Aven,” he said, and now his voice was rough with desperation. “Please.”
I opened my eyes. He’d pressed his forehead to mine, and our eyes locked. I tumbled into them, seeing the longing there, how badly he wanted me to believe me. I thought about his need to protect me, and in that moment, even though it went against everything reason told me, I believed he did want to protect me, that he didn’t want to hurt me.
“Can you promise me my sister is safe?” I asked. “Physically. Is she safe?”
He nodded. “I promise you.” He wrapped his hand around mine, warming my fingers. “I’ll take you to her.”
I thought about it.
I had no choice.
I could go home, call the police, but what good would that do? I didn’t know where Violet was, and the police already thought I was crazy.
And by the time the police got here, I could be there myself.
So when Landon pulled back and opened the door, I slid into the passenger seat and put on my seatbelt.
The car was quiet.
We’d been on the highway for another couple of hours, and the snow had started to become thicker, the individual flakes morphing into a sheet of white. The traffic had started to thin out the further we got from New York – not just because we were driving through towns with less people, but also because of the snow.
We were a couple hours from Vermont when Landon switched lanes and downshifted, then guided the card toward an exit.
I thought we were just stopping for more gas, or that maybe we needed to hook up to another highway, but the GPS begged to differ. That same woman’s voice who’d announced Conner’s voicemail now informed us we were going in the wrong direction.
“Where are we going?” I demanded, sitting up straighter in my seat.
“We’re stopping for the night.”
“What?”
“It’s not safe to be out on the road.”
“It’s not that bad out,” I said, even though it was. “And you promised we were going to Vermont.”
“We are going to Vermont. But it’s my responsibility to get you there safely.”
Right off the exit was a Brentwood Suites, and Landon pulled into the parking lot – he must have seen a sign for it on the highway. It was a tall, sprawling brick building, and each of the rooms had a tiny balcony that jutted out into the parking lot. The front was well-lit, and the lobby looked warm and inviting through the double glass doors.
Landon, however, was staring through the windshield skeptically. He pulled out his phone and began scrolling.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for more suitable accommodations.”
“There’s nothing wrong with this hotel.” I got out of the car before he could stop me. I could have stayed seated, could have fought with him about going to Vermont tonight, but I knew it was useless. He’d made up his mind that we were going to stop for the night, and therefore, we were going to stop for the night.
I also knew he was right. It was too snowy for us to be on the road. And ever since what happened to my parents, I was all too aware of the dangers that nature could bring.
But it wasn’t just nature that took them, a voice whispered in my ear, that ugly horrible voice that always came out whenever I’d forgotten about what happened for even a moment.
I ignored it, pushing my way into the hotel, stomping my feet on the mat as I went, shaking the snow off my boots.
The lobby was brightly lit and warm, a string of white fairy lights draped across the check-in desk.
“Hello,” I said faux-cheerily to the clerk, a man in his mid-twenties with shaggy dark hair and a movie star smile. His nametag read “Caleb.”
“Hello, miss,” he said, flashing me a friendly smile. “Welcome to Brentwood Suites. Can I help you?”
“Yes, I’d like a room, please.”
“Of course, miss,” Caleb said, typing away on his computer. “And how many nights will you be staying with us?”
“Just one,” I said.
“And are you traveling alone?” His eyes rose from the computer and lingered on my chest, at the place where my black tank top dipped down in the front, for just a second longer than necessary.
“No,” a voice growled from behind me. “She is not traveling alone. She’s with me. And if you continue to ogle her like that, to even look at her for a second longer than necessary, I will jump over this counter and end you.”
“Landon!” I exclaimed.
“Go stand over there,” Landon said.
“I will not.”
“Go over there,” he said. “Now. Or our deal is off.”
I stomped over to the elevators, waiting patiently as he talked to the clerk, who now looked scared. He didn’t look at me, didn’t even look at Landon as he entered his information into the computer, ran Landon’s card, and then handed him two key cards.
“I knew this place was a shithole,” Landon breathed as he pushed the button for the elevator.
“This place is fine,” I said as I stepped into the car behind him. He pushed the button for the fourth floor, and the elevator jumped to life. “You’re acting crazy.”
“You shouldn’t be talking to strange men like that, Aven.” The doors opened, and Landon waited for me to step out of the elevator first, like he was afraid that I was going to take off.
“No, you shouldn’t act like everyone’s a threat. He wasn’t a strange man, h
e was the freakin’ front desk clerk.”
“You know nothing about him.”
“I know nothing about you, either,” I said. “And yet, here I am.”
We were at our room now, and he opened the door and waited for me to enter. The room was open and airy, with a tiny sitting room, one queen-size bed covered in a bright white comforter, and a TV. Framed prints of red poppies and purple violets hung on the walls.
“Jesus,” Landon murmured.
I rolled my eyes. “And where will you be sleeping?” I asked. “On the floor? Or should I call Caleb and have him bring up a cot?”
He dropped his keys onto the nightstand with a clatter, and something about the sound was ominous. He began to pull off his leather jacket, and some of the adrenaline that had been fueling my boldness began to flow out of my body as I watched the muscles of his biceps flex with his movements.
“I’ve had about enough of your mouth, Ms. Courtland.”
“I’ve had about enough of your secrets, Mr. Sheer,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.
“We all have secrets, angel,” he said. His mouth curled up into a cruel, knowing smile, as if he knew there was something I was keeping from him.
“Not me,” I lied, my heart pounding against my ribcage.
“Don’t lie to me,” he said, moving toward me.
There was no way he could know. No way he could know about what happened, the one thing I’d never told anyone in my life, ever, the thing I would never tell anyone, ever.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I shook my head. “Where are our bags?”
“I’m assuming this place doesn’t have a bellhop.”
“I’m sure Caleb would be happy to help us with our bags.”
A vein in his temple twitched, and then that same smile crossed his lips. He picked up the key card and slid it down my throat, over my cleavage. My breath hitched at his nearness, and that same urge I’d had back at the gas station – to fall to my knees – flowed through me. “Wait here, princess.”