by Cynthia Dane
“He likes feeling jealous.” Nala had to be quick with her words. Don’t let her think we’re not a real couple… or at least haven’t been together for a few months instead of weeks. “So sometimes we play a game like that. It doesn’t mean anything serious, really.” Was her smile real enough? Or was she no better than Maggie right now?
“You can drop the act. I know you and Mr. Lane haven’t been together long enough for him to even see you on your period.”
That’s not true. Nala had resisted the urge to get pregnant recently. She was blessed with short periods – not that they didn’t do their damndest to make her as miserable as possible. “I don’t know what you mean. Vincent and I have been together for six months.” That was their story, right? Shit! Nala needed to write this stuff down!
Maggie faced her, leaning against the sink with her arms crossed. She looked too formidable to be anyone’s submissive, let alone belong to a sweet man like Jay.
“Keep lying if you want, but I can guarantee that if you keep lying in the club, it will come back to bite you in the ass. Trust me. Crow is very, very good at sniffing out a weasel, and he’s not afraid to take drastic measures to maintain harmony in his group of pervs.”
She is definitely not a sub. Nala didn’t know what to do. Not here, not later when she would be alone with Vincent again and could relay everything that happened. What do I tell him? So far, Nala probably didn’t know anything that Vincent didn’t already know.
“I certainly don’t want to get us kicked out, because it’s done so much for Vince… my Master’s business.”
Maggie took two slow steps – steps big enough to bring her only a foot away from Nala. “I’m not talking about getting kicked out of the group, Gale. There is a lot more going on behind closed doors than couples getting it on. A lot of people have gotten hurt for going against Crow. You know it, don’t you?”
Nala checked to see if she were shaking. Not yet. “I may have heard a few things, but what does that have to do with me? Vincent?”
“I’m only going to tell you this once. You may be totally innocent. I dunno, but I do know that it doesn’t take much anymore for Crow to decide you’re an enemy that must be dealt with. Tread carefully, Gale. I don’t say this to anybody. If there’s a reason for you joining the club outside of Vincent’s prospects… well, keep them to yourself. Keep your head low and don’t say anything stupid. Follow the rules. Do things you may not want to do, because otherwise… I probably don’t have to tell you.” She unlocked the door, but did not yet open it. “I would hate to see someone else get hurt.”
Someone else? Who else did she mean? Let alone lately?
“Should I… tell Vincent?”
Maggie let her hand linger on the door handle, her visage softening into light concern. “Do whatever you want. I just wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you and a simple warning from me could have stopped it. That’s all.” The handle jostled under the weight of her hand. “I don’t dislike you, if that’s what you’ve been wondering. You have a good head on your shoulders for someone your age, but I also remember what it’s like to be twenty. You’re brash and decisive, aren’t you?”
Nala didn’t say anything. I mean…
“Before you jump head first into anything, think long and hard about it. I’ve seen so many girls your age take a tumble that could have been prevented with some foresight. You are not invincible. Vincent is not invincible, even if he seems like a superhero to you at times. I don’t know how you really feel about each other, but if you care at all… yeah, perhaps you should tell him. Say the warning came from a friend you can trust.”
Maggie left the bathroom, letting the door latch behind her. Nala remained near the sinks, digesting the words.
“Say the warning came from a friend…”
Isn’t that what that note said? The one Vincent claimed to be looking into? “You have friends.”
Nala decided to wait it out a few more minutes in the bathroom. Who knew what awaited her when she returned to the table? Who knew how Vincent would react… to her? To the information she had to share?
It was at that moment Nala realized how much danger she might really be in.
Chapter 5
As she and Vincent drove down Burnside that night after dinner, Nala swore she saw malicious shadows in every corner. All right, so some of those were drug deals going down and people picking fights with other pedestrians because… well, she never knew why those things happened around Portland, but they weren’t the everyday occurrences she expected whenever she went out at night. These were directed right at her, even if she were nowhere near them.
“What has got you acting so bizarre tonight?” They sat at a notoriously long light, Vincent tapping the steering wheel while he waited to hit the gas again. “First you embarrassed yourself like that at dinner, and now you’re acting like every homeless person we pass is going to run up and try to open your door.”
To be fair, that happened to my roommate once. Or Patrick could have been hallucinating.
“I’m not acting bizarre, thanks.” Nala pulled herself away from the window and stared straight ahead. Rain began to patter, anyway, forcing Vincent to turn on his windshield wipers. “I’m paranoid. You would be too if Maggie cornered you in the bathroom and gave you a warning. And what the fuck do you mean by embarrassing myself? Excuse you.”
“Wait, cornered and warned you? About what?”
The light turned green, but Vincent was slow hitting the pedal. The face he kept on Nala while he drove did not inspire confidence in her. “She said that it was really easy to make an enemy out of Crow.”
“Not like we didn’t know that already.”
“You do not get it. She was really concerned that we were somehow going to mess up in the club and not only get kicked out… well, I don’t remember exactly what she said, but it was really sketchy. I honestly do not think she and Jay are a real couple. Not any more than we are.”
“I’d be shocked if they weren’t actually married.” When Nala looked at him incredulously, Vincent explained, “They act like a married couple, just not the kind that shows up to The Aviary.”
“Exactly. Maggie is totally not a submissive. She’s acting. Or lying, if I want to relate.”
“That means they have a very good reason for risking it in the club,” Vincent continued for Nala. “Crow does not like women he can’t control. That’s why he likes looking at submissive women being ordered around and possessed by their supposed Masters so much. He not only gets off on it. It comforts him.”
“For a guy who says he really is a Dom, you don’t sound impressed.”
“Why would I be? Being a Dom isn’t about possessing and controlling. Not to that degree. Even the other men at the club are playing it up. I don’t believe for a second that Lucian is that way with Robin when they’re in private.”
Wouldn’t be too sure about that. Robin was, uh, really into it.
“Okay, but what do you mean by embarrassing myself? Can we go back to that?”
Vincent turned onto his street. “Do I really have to explain?”
“Uh, yeah.”
He didn’t answer until he was in his enclosed parking space, setting the car alarm and listening to the rain fall a few feet away. Nala wondered if she should get out. Then she saw Vincent still gripping the steering wheel and leaving his seatbelt on. His countenance was cold.
“What were you doing, flirting with that man?”
Nala stifled a gasp. The way he says it…! As if she had been serious in any way! “I wasn’t doing anything. Having some fun. Why do you care? You’re not my boyfriend.”
She went to unbuckle her seatbelt, but Vincent’s hand slapped upon hers, sending fright down her spine. “You weren’t having some fun, Nala. You were trying to get a rise out of me.”
“It worked, didn’t it?”
Vincent’s hand nearly squeezed hers off her arm. “Why? Why were you doing that t
o me? Like you said, I’m not your boyfriend, so…”
“So it doesn’t matter, right?”
“If it really didn’t matter, Nala, you wouldn’t have done that. Now tell me why you did it.”
What insolence! Nala bit her lip before she could say something so testy, so hurtful that Vincent would have no choice but to drive her back home and kick her to the curb. If he would bother driving her back home at all.
“Nala.”
“Why are you talking to me like I’m six?” Nala did everything in her power to not look like she was a six-year-old about to throw a giant temper tantrum. “I’m not going to tell you anything unless you start treating me like an adult.”
She knew that he was almost a full decade older than her, but Nala also knew that it didn’t mean much in the realm of the world. Some people her age were really mature and had a ton of life experience. Some people Vincent’s age still acted like they were ten and barely knew what life was. I’m not saying I’m super mature. I’m saying he’s not giving me enough credit right now. So what if Nala never went to college? So what if she had never held more than a minimum wage job and had yet to change the world in any way?
“Fine.” Vincent leaned back in his seat, inhaling a deep breath. “Please tell me why you did that.”
That wasn’t much better, but Nala wouldn’t argue anymore. “I wanted an idea of how you really feel about me.”
“What?”
She looked at him for the first time since they arrived. The rain continued to pound behind them, but there in the warm car all Nala could think about was curling up next to him and resting her eyes. I can do that inside.
“You said so yourself that you’re not any good with words. Well, it doesn’t take a genius to gather that anyway. All this back and forth you and I have been playing ever since we met… fuck, you think I can’t tell that you like me? Maybe you don’t know you’re exuding more than lusty thoughts my way, but sometimes I get the feeling that you want more from this relationship than we currently have. But not only am I not super interested in that, I’m also not into the idea of giving you more of myself and feeling nothing in return. I flirted with that man tonight to see how you would respond. I wanted to see if you got jealous or not.”
“That is so archaic.”
“And you’re so dumb.”
They stared each other down in the car. Although dark, Nala could see the lights of his eyes and the heave of his chest. Stop being so attractive. She had to remain firm. Not melt into this man’s embrace as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do.
“Are you happy now?” Vincent’s voice practically pierced Nala in the chest. She gasped, feeling like an admonished child even though she had asked to be treated like the adult she thought she was. “You got a rise out of me. You know how I really feel.”
“No I don’t,” Nala barely whispered. “I don’t know anything. For all I know that jealousy was you being possessive of some woman you’re sleeping with. It doesn’t mean you feel anything good for me. Not beyond your dick, anyway.”
“Nala,” Vincent growled, his fingers tightening around her wrist again. “I would not have acted like that if I didn’t feel something for you. Don’t you get it?” His hiss burrowed deep into her ear, tickling her mind and stimulating the rest of her body in the process. “The whole reason I have been distant from you is because you make me…” Vincent’s voice may have cut off, but it did not stop his grip from traveling up her arm and making short work of her bruising limb. “I don’t like how you make me feel. It’s not something I’m meant to experience for a very long time. Maybe not ever. Don’t you see? I’m fighting back feeling anything for you beyond common decency and concern for your safety.”
Nala sat back, shocked by his words, shocked by the grip still threatening to break her arm. “Why are you fighting anything?”
“The same reason you’re fighting your feelings for me.”
“I’m not…”
“You wouldn’t have played such a trick on me if you also weren’t feeling things. Don’t be daft.”
Nala could only gape in his direction.
“You wanted me to feel jealous to feed into your ego. To make you feel better about feeling anything for me. Don’t think I’m that dumb. I know we’re both fighting back more than physical attraction right now, but neither of us wants to lose sight of the most important thing. There’s no time, no energy to get involved more than we already have, and most of all…”
Nala waited for it.
“We don’t want to become disconnected from the people we’re trying to avenge.”
In a way, he was right. Yet at the same time, the man couldn’t be further away from the truth if he started this car up again and began driving in the other direction. “That’s not fair. I lost my sister, but it wasn’t romantic or sexual love, obviously. I lost someone precious to me that I will never get back, but I don’t feel guilty being with you, Vincent! You’re the one projecting shame and guilt onto what’s going on between us!” She didn’t wait for him to counter with a different argument. “You’re still not over Desirée. You feel guilty every time you stick your dick in me. You think that if you start having feelings of any kind for me, you’ll be shitting on her memory. What if I told you that it’s been three fucking years? I’m not saying ‘get over it.’ I’m the last person who should be telling you such a thing but, holy shit, Vincent, no woman wants to be the rebound who gets shafted because you’re busy feeling like the biggest asshole in the universe because of a dead woman.”
Silence befell the car. Vincent’s grip lightened on Nala’s wrist, until he completely backed away, considering the steering wheel in front of him. In time, he undid his seatbelt and opened the car door, stepping out and slamming the door behind him.
Nala didn’t know what to do. Go after him? Head down to the bus stop? That latter thing was probably what Vincent wanted her to do. Except there was no way in fucking hell Nala was going to let him get away with skulking off like that!
She fought with the seatbelt and the car door, convinced that both were out to prevent her from getting her way, from getting to Vincent the moody, grieving billionaire. Grieve all you want, asshole. Just don’t treat me like this! Nala finally won the battle of wills with the two-ton car, emerging in the cold night air with nary a sweater to keep her warm. She tore up the stairs after Vincent and caught him as he was about to close his loft door in her face.
He relented, stepping away from the door and letting Nala in. She closed and locked the front door, but did not remove her shoes. They instead clamored over the hard wood floors, helping her chase down Vincent into the kitchen, where he pulled down a bottle of whiskey and poured himself a shot.
“I want one too,” Nala demanded.
Vincent glared at her.
“I’m twenty-one! What, suddenly you worry about stuffing me with alcohol?”
They both knew that wasn’t why he glared at her. Nevertheless, Vincent took down another shot glass and poured Nala a drink.
No cheers. No clinks. Vincent downed his shot, and Nala followed, letting the whiskey burn her esophagus like she damn well deserved. Teach me to ever open my big mouth again. She probably needed punishing, too.
Except Vincent was about as interested in her as she was in him right now. The man wandered into his living room, tearing off his jacket and tossing it on a couch as he sat with a new drink. He leaned back, sinking as far as he dared, with his head resting on top of the couch and his arm outstretched. If Nala didn’t know any better, she would think he was relaxing after a stressful day at work – not trying to process what she said to him in the car.
Nala approached from behind, staring at the top of Vincent’s dark head and wondering if she should go. But as she lurked next to the couch, her fingers treading dangerously close to his hair, he said, “You’re a real spitfire, Miss Nazarov.”
She said nothing.
“You’ll probably be the reason we ul
timately get killed.”
Her eyes widened, but yet again she said nothing.
“You’re not wrong, though. You’re right. That’s the problem.” Vincent took a drink, ice clamoring against the side of his glass. “I hate that you’re right.”
Nala took two more steps, bringing her to the couch. She looked down into Vincent’s face, his eyes closed, his posture unforgiving. “I know I’m not Desirée,” she said softly. “I don’t want to be her. I’m only me. You can take me or leave me, but if you take me, I expect no mind games. I don’t need or want your love, Vincent, but I do need to be treated like a human being. Not saying you’ve been that bad…” She plucked his glass from his hand and finished his drink for him. Gotta cut myself off after this. Wine at dinner, and now following it with two drinks of whiskey? “But I have a short temper for that kind of behavior. You need to decide. Will you move on? Or will you continue to hold onto her as if she’s going to come through that door at any moment?”
“I’m not stupid, Nala. I know she’s not coming through any door. She’s dead. Forgive me if it’s been difficult to deal with.”
“Of course I understand.” She traced one of his crowning worry lines on his forehead. Vincent sighed, but did not shrug her off. “My sister died only a short while ago. It feels like yesterday, honestly. I know it wasn’t. I know it was a long time ago in the realm of the human lifespan. In olden times, we would have been forced to move on. It’s only recently we’re allowed to take time to grieve.”
“Don’t have to remind me.”
“Nor me. My dad died when I was a girl. I’ve seen what too much grief does to a person. My mother… she’s not the same anymore. She wasn’t the same even before Tasha died. All that did was solidify my mother’s inability to ever move on. Her life from now on will be dependent on grief. I don’t want to live that way. I want vengeance, but once I get it, I want to move on. It doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten Tasha, or what she meant to me. I’ll never forget her. She was a huge part of my life, and someone I thought I would have until the end of it, or at least until near the end.”