by Keri Lake
You belong to me. You’re mine. Mine.
I’ve been with guys only looking for sex, and not a single one told me I belonged to them after. In fact, they were quite content to keep their distance, and so was I, if I’m being honest. It’s not that I set out to fulfill my mother’s destiny for me through meaningless sex, it’s just that boys tend to be nicer when they think they’re getting laid.
I guess I just liked believing in their bullshit sometimes.
Lucian is an enigma to me, though. A big black question mark at the end of a long sentence. Could’ve been a heat of the moment thing with him. Guys sometimes say weird things during sex, but then I’m still left wondering why he bothered to run errands with me. Why spend the day with someone you’ve no intentions of pursuing?
A part of me wants to ask Giulia if he’s ever claimed she belonged to him when they fucked. Maybe that’s his kink: collecting girls like his mother collects dolls.
Another part tells me to leave it alone.
When I reach Laura’s sitting room, Nell already has the older woman dressed for the day and in her wheelchair, ready to go. Odd, considering it’s still about five minutes before Laura usually wakes on her own.
I cross the room toward them, where Nell huffs, seeming to struggle with pinning a broach to Laura’s blouse. “Here. Let me.” When she steps aside, I take the broach in hand and offer Laura a smile, as I slide the pin through the silky fabric. “What’s going on?”
“Rand asked that we come down to the office. He wants to speak with us. All of us, apparently.”
Rand? Surely, if it was something I’ve done wrong, Lucian would’ve given me a heads-up over the weekend.
“Did he say what it was about?” I study Nell’s expression for any flicker of emotion, any hint of what to expect from this meeting.
Her face is as impassive as her voice. “No. Just that he wants us down there in five minutes.” She unlocks Laura’s wheelchair, while I shuffle ahead of them, back toward the elevator.
I press the down button, and when the doors open to show Lucian against the rear wall in a crisp black suit, glancing up from the phone in his hand, my breath hitches.
He quirks a brow, as I step inside and press the button to hold the door open for Nell and Laura.
“Lucian!” Laura’s face lights up at her son, pride beaming in her eyes. “My, you look dashing today. Doesn’t my son look absolutely dashing, ladies?”
“He does.” Pursing my lips to hide a smile, I back myself alongside him to make room.
Nell doesn’t say a word as she pushes Laura onto the elevator, her eyes directed away from Lucian, and she turns her back to us.
The elevator doors close, and I feel a warm hand snake beneath my shirt, across my back. I stiffen at his touch, and turn my head just enough to catch the smile tugging at his lips, while he keeps his gaze ahead.
“Lucian, will you be joining us for breakfast, darling?” Laura asks, leaning over the side of her chair, seemingly oblivious to Lucian fondling me behind her.
“I’m sorry, Mother, but I have a very important meeting this morning. Perhaps another time.”
“Pity. I miss talking to you. Oh! And hearing you play piano. Amelia plays very well, don’t you, dear?”
Eyes closing, Lucian shakes his head. “It’s Isadora, Mother. Not Amelia. Amelia is dead, remember?” It’s strange hearing him respond so frankly, when I’ve tiptoed around the subject.
“Oh.” She slumps back into her wheelchair, raising a trembling finger to her lips, as if in contemplation. “How could I have forgotten that?” She shakes her head and leans over the chair once again. “Anyway,” she says, waving her hand in the air. “You should come listen to her play sometime.”
Another handsome smile greets me, when I slide my gaze toward his again. “I’ll have to do that.”
Nell’s head kicks to the side, not enough to see the two of us, but clearly interested in the exchange, perhaps picking up on the slight amusement in his voice. The doors open up to the first floor, and she pushes Laura out of the elevator, and into the hallway.
As I follow after them, a grip of my wrist stops me in my tracks.
“I’d like to speak with Ms. Quinn for a moment. Go on ahead, and she’ll catch up.”
Still not bothering to look, Nell gives a nod, and Laura tips her chin in what I’d surmise as suspicion as the two head off in the direction of Rand’s office.
Once out of sight, Lucian spins me around and, as the doors close, pushes me back against the elevator wall. His lips crush mine in a fervent kiss, while his hand travels the length of my thigh. “I should’ve snuck into your bed last night.”
“I thought, for sure, I’d get to pull a knife on you again. What gives?”
“The very thought of that makes me regret sleeping alone.”
“So, why did you stay away?”
“Because there’s a saying … absence makes the dick grow harder, or something.”
Snorting a laugh, I shake my head. “Ah, I think you’re mistaken. I believe the phrase you’re looking for is, makes the heart grow fonder.”
Taking my hand in his, he guides my palm to the massive bulge in his slacks. “I’m not mistaken, at all.”
Swallowing hard, I run my hand over what must be one painful erection tenting his slacks. “Oh.” Another moment of touching, and he releases my hand. “Well, I wish you would’ve, because I heard noises in my room.”
“What kind of noises?”
It somehow feels silly saying it aloud to him, like I’m admitting I believe in ghosts. “Just shifting of the walls, I guess. It’s nothing.”
“This place can be haunting at times.” His palm slides down my belly, only the tip of his finger breaching the waistband of my khakis. “However, if you feel something touching you while you sleep, just keep your eyes closed and roll with it.”
The thought of that makes me chuckle. “I’ll try.”
“I have a meeting out of state this afternoon, and will return this evening. Expect me.”
“Out of state?”
“Yes. Vermont. I trust you’ll wear something appropriate.”
“I don’t have anything sexy, if that’s what you mean.”
“Ah, then, we’ll have to rectify that.” Warm lips press into mine again, his tongue dipping past my teeth. “In the meantime, wear something expendable.”
“Expendable? As in, I don’t care if something happens to it?”
“Exactly.”
“Can I ask what for?”
“You can ask, but I’m not going to tell you.” He bends forward and seizes my mouth in yet another kiss. “I’ll see you tonight.”
As he pulls away, I reach for his arm. “Hey, do you have any idea why Rand called us down?”
Glancing toward his reflection in the elevator wall, he straightens his tie and jacket. “Yes. I’m firing Nell.” The playful tone from seconds ago dulls with indifference, as if her firing doesn’t matter to him, one way, or the other.
“Wait. What?”
“I can’t have someone in this house who constantly accuses me of murdering my wife and son. Call it a conflict of interest.”
“But what I told you … I didn’t want her to know.”
“She won’t know.”
“Well, it’s, like, obvious.”
Gaze shifting back to me, he plants his palm against the wall as he leans in. “And if her accusations were directed at you, what would do?”
“Confront her.”
“Which is the purpose of this meeting. The outcome depends on her response. Either way, it’s out of my hands.” He straightens again, rolling his shoulders back. “Rand does the hiring and firing for me.”
“And if it were me?”
“What about you?”
I cast my attention from his impervious stare that suddenly has me feeling childish and insignificant. “Never mind. It was a stupid question.”
“You’re trying to navigate what this is. If
I’d treat you like an employee, or the girl I’m fucking.”
“Like I said, it was dumb.”
“In my experience, the two have always been one and the same. But with you …” His jaw tics, eyes on my lips. “I’d find it very difficult to let you go. My confrontation with you would be on a much more personal level.”
Another cryptic response that doesn’t fit the sex only rules I’ve come to know with other guys. “Then, I trust you won’t stand me up tonight.”
“It would take an act of God to keep me away.” Another small kiss, before he pushes the button to open the elevator door and exits toward the front entrance, while I make my way toward the office.
When I enter the room, Laura is parked in her wheelchair beside Nell, who sits with her hands fidgeting in her lap. Offering a stilted smile, Rand gestures toward the empty chair beside Nell, and my stomach flips over on itself as I plop down beside her. Now that I know the purpose of this meeting, all I want to do is disappear.
Clearing his throat, Rand entwines his fingers and stares over the top of his spectacles. “It’s come to my attention that there has been some discussion regarding Master Blackthorne’s involvement in the disappearance of his son.”
The moment the words are out in the air, I can feel Nell’s stare burning into the side of my face.
“As you were made aware, when you first took the position here, the master values his privacy above all else. Gossip, of any kind, is frowned upon.” As he prattles on, my mind is spinning with questions, like why the hell was I asked to sit through this? and why was Laura hustled out of bed so early this morning to sit through this as well?
“If this is about me, I haven’t said shit.” Nell crosses her arms, sinking down into her chair.
I shoot her a glare. If she thinks she’s going to pin this on me, she’s wrong. Lucian knows the truth.
“And what about you, Miss Quinn?” Rand turns his gaze on me this time.
“What happened with his son was before my time here. From what I have come to know of Lu--um, Mister Blackthorne, I’ve no reason to believe he’s harmed anyone.”
“Of course you wouldn’t,” Nell bites back, the anger radiating off of her. “Not when your lips are practically sewn together.”
Cheeks heating with embarrassment, I avoid looking at Rand, and Laura, in particular. “What I do is none of your business.”
“If you don’t want anyone in your business, perhaps you should be a bit more discreet.” If I didn’t happen to know she’s terrified of Lucian, I’d think the bite in Nell’s tone screamed of jealousy.
“It’s funny you should mention that, Miss Anders.” Rand presses the button on a remote that’s set out in front of him on the desk, and the wall behind him slides open for a flat-screen television. When he clicks another button on the remote, the screen lights up to show Laura’s sitting room. At the sound of Laura’s screaming in the background, the older woman perks up from where she’s sat quietly in her wheelchair the whole time. In the scene onscreen, it seems she’s having one of her nightmares, though it’s out of the camera’s view to know for sure. A figure staggers into the room, and when he turns around and falls on the couch, I recognize Lucian, with his tie undone, his shirt unbuttoned, holding a glass of liquor.
At first, I think it’s the night I went to check on Laura that first week, but I notice Lucian’s tie is burgundy in this clip, not black like before.
“In an effort to be thorough, I’ve done some digging around, and I found this.” He fast-forwards the video, and from the corner of my eye, I catch Nell shifting in her seat.
In time lapse, another figure enters the room onscreen, and Rand plays the video at normal speed once again.
Lucian appears to be passed out, where he lies back on the couch, his hand covering his face. The second figure is Nell, who stands over him with her head tipped, as if curiously watching him. When she kneels down between his thighs, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I can’t bring myself to look at her, as I sit paralyzed, watching her make a move on him in his sleep.
Nell shifts again and clears her throat. “We get it. I fucked up, okay?” The nervous edge in her voice is as uncanny as her behavior in the video. Like watching two completely different personalities.
“Ah, well, I think it’s important to establish a motive in these cases,” Rand says, his attention seemingly fixed on the screen.
As she unzips his pants and springs his cock free on camera, I feel compelled to look away. It’s like watching something forbidden take place. Something I shouldn’t be privy to, but I can’t stop watching because I need to know how far she goes. The moment she takes Lucian in hand, he startles awake.
“What are you doing?” The slur in his voice confirms that he’s drunk. “Stop.”
“Shhhh,” she says, swatting his hand away when he reaches for her arm. “Just relax.”
“Get the fuck off of me!” He shoves her hard enough to send her tumbling backward onto her ass, and fumbles to zip up his pants. Pushing up from the couch, he stands over her, swaying a bit. “You ever touch me again, I’ll make sure you never work another job on this island,” he says, before striding off, out of the camera’s view.
Rand pauses the video, and when he turns around, there’s a smirk twisting his lips. “It seems rejection is a rather touchy thing for you, Ms. Anders.”
“He came onto me first, before that video.”
“No, I don’t think that’s true. Master Blackthorne has remained ever professional in his interactions with you. It is you who have behaved inappropriately.”
“Is that what he told you?”
“He’s not told me anything regarding this incident. I had to find it myself. And on the grounds that you have failed to uphold your end of the contract, I’m afraid we’ll be letting you go.”
“What? Letting me go? You can’t … I need this job.”
Suddenly, she’s concerned about her job? I want to tell her she should’ve thought of that before she decided to smear the boss’s name, but I guess some people are clueless.
“I’m sorry, but it is a conflict of interest to allow you to stay.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Conflict of interest? How?”
“I understand you’ve been reporting back to a private investigator, who’s been busy trying to build a case against the Blackthornes and Doctor Powell.”
The look on Rand’s face reminds me of those cop shows, when the detective finally calls bullshit and all hell breaks loose. Who knew that people still hired private investigators? I always thought that was a low-budget TV thing.
“You’ve certainly contributed to that with your lies and gossip,” Rand continues.
“I’ve been documenting care, as I am directed to do. If he’s gained unauthorized access to my progress notes, that has nothing to do with me.”
Tipping his head, Rand narrows his eyes on her and opens the drawer beside him. He pulls out a photograph that’s slightly grainy, like it’s been blown up to a larger size, and pushes it in front of her. In it, she’s sitting across from a man I don’t recognize, smiling in a way I’d consider flirtatious even if I’d never met the woman. “You’ve spent quite a bit of time with Mr. Goodman, it seems.”
Shoulders slouching, she frowns while staring down at the picture in silence.
“Get out of here, Miss Anders. And if I find you snooping around the manor again, I’ll have you arrested on the spot for trespassing.”
She doesn’t bother to look at me as she pushes up from the chair. It’s when she passes that she grabs my arm, and I startle at her touch, thinking she’s going strike out at me. Instead she gives a squeeze, and her brows wing up to something that appears to be more sympathetic than angry. “Watch yourself, Isa. Don’t trust anyone.”
“Out. Now.” Once she’s left, he turns to me. “I apologize for making you sit through that, Miss Quinn, but I thought you should be aware, in the event you’ve shared any private conversations
with her.”
My mind rewinds to conversations I’ve had with her, where I could’ve easily said something personal. Something that would’ve had me, or Aunt Midge, under scrutiny. Namely, the issue with the drug dealer.
He huffs, the frown on his face deepening. “I wasn’t aware of this until recently. Tell me, have you noticed any unusual behaviors in your time working alongside her?”
“Just … she asked me to cover once, so she could sort something out. I assumed it was with her son.”
“I see. And what was the nature of you covering for her?”
A quick glance toward Laura shows her staring back at me. “Just keeping an eye on Mrs. Blackthorne for a few hours.”
“We try to keep a nurse on hand at all times. On the weekends, when Nell leaves, Shauna takes over. Therefore, it’s important that you communicate these things to me.”
“My apologies. It won’t happen again.” I lower my gaze from his, fingers fidgeting. “I’m assuming Lucian told you what I told him.”
“He did. And while I find her actions to be quite serious, we came to the conclusion that she would be let go immediately.”
“It just doesn’t seem like …”
“What?”
“She said she’s been working so hard to get her son back.” I don’t bother to tell him that she struggled through rehab to get clean prior to becoming a nurse. “It seems strange that she’d let anything get in the way of that.”
“Some people have a very self-destructive approach to their wellbeing.”
“Well, I, for one, never trusted her.” Laura sits with her hands folded in her lap and shakes her head. “The things she would say and do. Wretched girl.”
“What kinds of things would she say?” Rand asks, turning his chair to face her.
“She said that Isa had stolen from me.” Laura scoffs and glances away, frowning, and I lower my gaze to keep from having to look at her.
I could tell her it’s true right now, and clear Nell’s name of at least one accusation, but when I lift my gaze to Rand, he’s shaking his head, the expression on his face a warning.
So I don’t bother. Nell is gone now. I suppose clearing her name is pointless.