by Roni Loren
“I know you feel something for him. I get it. But if you’re not sticking around, just let him go,” he said quietly. “People think I had it rough with what I went through as a kid, but despite his family having money, Foster had it worse. He was alone all the time. The people who were supposed to love him bailed when he needed them the most. He doesn’t want to be left again.”
My fingers dug into my biceps, the sadness in Pike’s voice, the picture he was painting, making me want to reach out to Foster even more. “Is that why he wants to . . . own a woman?”
The words were hard to even get across my tongue—the concept so foreign.
Pike brushed a hand over his head, the spikes springing back as soon as he swiped over them. “Maybe? There’s no doubt he’s a dominant. He’s always been a bossy fucker—at least as long as I’ve known him. But I think him wanting something so clearly defined is a way to try to control who leaves him. But of course, it’s a false sense of security. A woman can walk away at any time—vanilla relationship, slave, submissive, or anything in between. One day he’s going to have to accept that caring for someone is always going to be a risk, no matter what.”
I digested his words. “Which is why you steer clear of relationships?”
“Nah, doc, I’m just too fucked up to inflict myself on someone long term. I’m best in small doses.” He smirked, but there wasn’t much enthusiasm behind it. “And I’m not trying to scare you off Foster. I can tell something is different when he’s with you. I’ve never seen him get so . . . possessive. But I love the guy and don’t want to see him get his heart handed back to him again.”
I frowned, an unshakeable melancholy falling over me, but nodded at Pike. “You’re a good friend to him.”
He shrugged. “I’d be in a cemetery if not for him. And blood or not, he’s my family.”
I leaned over and kissed his cheek, a good-bye. “Thanks, Pike. He’s lucky to have you in his life.”
He pushed away from the doorjamb, his expression resigned. “Want me to tell him you stopped by?”
Though part of me had wanted to say yes, I’d shaken my head no and walked away. If I wasn’t going to stay, then it wasn’t fair for me to keep dragging this along. For Foster or myself. Even if I figured out some way not to leave, how could I begin to be what Foster wanted? I was intrigued by the glimpses of his dominant side I’d seen, enjoyed fantasies that went down that path. But the idea of giving that much control to anyone made my skin go clammy. I’d barely escaped from beneath my father’s thumb. How could I consider being under someone else’s?
So if Foster was at that resort place, looking for some other woman to be in that type of relationship with him, then I shouldn’t begrudge him that. He deserved to be happy, even if I wasn’t the one making him that way.
Well, at least that’s what I’d been trying to tell myself during the car ride.
But when visions of another woman touching him came to mind, completely unfounded territorial feelings rose to the surface, darkening my mood. For someone who was supposedly looking for something real, Foster certainly was going about it an interesting way. I didn’t know a lot about his lifestyle, but looking for Mrs. Right at a sex resort didn’t sound so romantic. And if he’d really felt anything toward me like he’d implied the other night, he’d gotten over it mighty fast.
I merged into traffic, gripping the steering wheel a bit too hard and cursing the ballad that was playing on the radio. Stupid frigging song. But before my thoughts could careen further down the destructive path they were on, the notes of my phone’s ringtone filtered through the music. I lowered my radio and hit the Speaker button on the phone. “Hello?”
“Marcela,” my dad said, his heavy accent making my name sound so much more exotic. “I finally caught you. I’ve been trying to call.”
“Hey, Papá,” I said, trying to muster up an apologetic tone through my clenched teeth. “Sorry, I’ve been busy getting ready for the move.” And having threesomes. And getting chained to doors. And maybe falling for some guy who likes to torture women for kicks.
“You make me worry, Cela. I had to call your brother to make sure he’d heard from you.”
I sighed. “I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t worry so much. I’m not nine. I can survive a few days without being checked on.”
“Don’t be smart,” he said, using that father tone that used to make me want to hide in my room. “But never mind, it won’t matter soon. You’ll be home. We have the house all ready for you. I’ll be able to see your car from across the street and will sleep easy knowing you’re safe.”
“Wait, what?” My stomach did a nauseous roll as I tried not to look down at my phone in horror.
“Your tía was only renting that house from me. I told you that. She wanted to move closer into town, so we’re going to let you stay there. Think of all the money you’ll save. You’ll only have to cover the utilities. You can start your retirement fund early.”
“You want me to live across the street?” I asked, unable to keep the what the hell? out of my tone. “I’ve already put a deposit down on an apartment.”
“Now, Marcela, don’t be ungrateful. And it’s just a deposit. Let them have it. You’re going to be working at the clinic with me, so you might as well be close by. We can even save gas and ride together. And believe me, I can’t wait to have your help. I’ve had to hire an extra tech just to handle the patient load. And your mamá is buzzing around like she’s got a bee up her dress. She’ll be so happy to have you back.”
Cars whizzed by me on each side as the world seemed to slow inside my car. My father continued to ramble on, and a movie of my life started to play in my head. I’d known I was going back and would be around my family again, but the picture my father was painting was like a thick, itchy blanket covering me. Smothering.
“Papá, I don’t think living so close is a good idea. I need my space.”
“Space? You’ll have a whole house to yourself,” he said, then muttered something in Spanish, which meant he was getting annoyed. “You know how many children would love to have their family pay for their mortgage? We want to take care of you, Cela.”
I breathed in through my nose, trying to stay focused on the road and not letting myself completely lose my shit in the car. I loved my father, but the urge to scream, shout, and curse at him was pounding through me. I’d thought with the last few years of my being gone, my parents would’ve loosened their grip a little bit. But it sounded like they’d only been lying in wait until I came home to resume their control over my life.
I pulled at my necklace, the jewelry suddenly too snug.
“I have to go. We can talk about this later,” I said in a rush, my instincts going into cornered-rabbit mode. “I’m visiting Andre tonight and I don’t want to be late.”
My father grunted. “Fine. But we’re not done with this conversation. And tell your brother to call me. I want him to ride down with you when you come home. It’s been far too long since he’s visited his family.”
I wanted to ask him if I should invite Luz, too. My older sister only lived a town over from my parents. But I knew what my dad’s answer would be. Forgiveness was one gift my father never granted. Being cut out of the family was a permanent condition. My sister’s name wasn’t even spoken anymore.
And as I pulled in front of Andre’s building, I wondered what my father would do if he knew what I’d done with Foster and Pike . . . or if I refused to live in the house he’d offered me, changed the blueprint of my life.
Would I be discarded, too?
With a deep sigh, I grabbed the small gift I’d bought for Jace’s brother, Wyatt, and climbed out of the car. By the time I made my way to the loft on the third floor, I was praying this party had alcohol, because I had a feeling a nervous breakdown was waiting in the wings for me otherwise. One more crappy thing tonight, and I was going to lose it.
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I knocked on the door, and it swung open a minute later, the space filling with the imposing force that was Jace Austin. Andre’s roommate grinned wide, his green eyes lit with the kind of jovial ease I longed for. “Well, if it isn’t the prettier Medina.”
The man was downright contagious. I couldn’t help but smile back as he swallowed me with a bear hug. “Hey, Jace. Depressed as usual I see.”
He laughed and stepped back. “You know it.”
I walked in and set the gift on the entryway table while Jace closed the door behind me. The loft space was already echoing with conversation, Andre sitting on one of the couches and chatting with Wyatt. I had only met Wyatt once before, but I remembered him being the exact opposite of what I’d expected him to be.
I’d anticipated an older version of Jace, but he couldn’t have been more different. Where Jace was laid-back and quick with a joke, Wyatt had seemed quiet and intense—intimidating. I’d heard Jace call him genius, and I suspected that was more than a playful nickname. It was no secret that he was second in command at his father’s financial company and was freaking loaded. But it was obvious his knowledge extended beyond his field. When he’d gotten into a discussion with me about animal testing, his opinions and astute observations had made me wonder if he’d gotten a medical degree on the side. But when I’d joked about as much, he’d shrugged and said he liked to read medical journals in his free time.
“Hey there, little sis,” Andre said, raising his beer in acknowledgement. “Welcome.”
Wyatt turned and greeted me as well, his smile restrained but genuine.
“Drinks are in the kitchen,” Andre offered.
“You read my mind.”
I headed toward the kitchen and found Jace’s girlfriend, Evan, berating something in the oven. “Twenty minutes, my ass.”
I grinned. “I don’t think insulting the food makes it cook faster.”
Evan turned toward me, the frustration melting from her pretty face. “Hey, you. Long time, no see.”
She came over and gave me a quick hug, leaving flour marks on my black blouse.
“Oh, hell,” she said, trying to brush it off for me. “I shouldn’t be trusted with baking. I can cook a meal, but let me near anything having to do with cake, and I’m as skilled as a five-year-old with an Easy-Bake Oven.”
I waved her off, the flour coming off easily. “Everything smells great. So that counts for something, right? Anything I can do to help?”
Evan pushed her dark bangs up her forehead, looking like some fifties throwback with her frilly polka-dot apron. “Grab a beer and relax. I got this. Mostly.”
“All right, but yell if you need me. I have no baking skills either, but I know how to put out a fire.”
She laughed. “Duly noted.”
I made my way back to the living area, but all the guys had moved out to the balcony. I snaked through the arrangement of couches and chairs toward the large sliding glass door that led outside and pushed it open. The sound of conversation abruptly halted with my entrance. The men looked up liked they’d been caught looking at girlie magazines. I hesitated. “Uh, sorry. Am I interrupting some secret boys-only meeting?”
Wyatt was holding an envelope and a piece of paper in his hand. He glanced back down at it, some weird expression morphing his dark features. He rubbed his thumb over the red wax seal he’d broken on the envelope.
Jace leaned back in his chair and propped his ankles on the lower bar of the balcony’s railing. “Nope, just giving Wy his birthday gift.”
“Oh,” I said, taking a tentative step onto the balcony. “What is it?”
“J.” Andre shot Jace a quelling look.
“No big deal. Just a complimentary visit to a . . . spa called The Ranch,” Jace said, ignoring my brother’s warning.
I lowered myself into one of the chairs, an oh-that’s-nice response jumping to my lips. But then the name settled on me, kicked my memory bank. My gaze snapped back upward and over to Wyatt. He was carefully sliding the note back into the envelope.
“Uh, you really shouldn’t have,” Wyatt said, his voice and posture stiff. “I’m not really a spa person anymore.”
Jace’s mouth lifted at the corner, obviously having way too much fun seeing his brother’s discomfort. “Oh, no, it’s been way too long since you’ve relaxed. I think it’s exactly what you need. I’m sure they’ll have treatments there that will whip that stress right out of you.”
Andre choked on his beer, coughing loudly and leaning forward, his gaze darting to me. Jace gave him a friendly thump on the back, and I stared at my brother, snippets of conversation colliding in my head, mashing together.
The Ranch. Andre recognizing Foster. Every cell in my body seemed to cringe. Oh, sweet Jesus. Things I didn’t want to think about flooded my mind. I wanted to put my hands over my eyes but of course that wouldn’t help block the mental pictures.
Andre stood in a quick rush, setting his beer on the table. “I need some water. Anyone else want anything?”
They all declined and Andre disappeared inside without another word. Jace smiled as if nothing had happened. “So, Cela, are you all ready to head back to south Texas? Dre told me you’re leaving soon.”
It took me a second to form a response, my mind still reeling from the knowledge that my brother and his friends were familiar with a BDSM resort, Foster’s resort. I took a long pull off my beer, trying to beat back my racing thoughts. “I guess I’m ready.”
Wyatt smoothed invisible wrinkles from his slacks. “You don’t sound too enthusiastic.”
I shrugged. “I’m ready to be a vet. Just maybe not so ready to go back home. Living here has kind of grown on me.”
Jace grabbed a handful of chips from the bowl in the center of the table. “So stay. There’ve gotta be animal practices here that’d be happy to have you.”
I sighed and reached for a few chips as well. “There are. I got offered a great position at the place I’m working at now. But it’s not that easy. My dad’s been grooming me to take over his practice since I was old enough to spell dog. He’s held the spot for me and is counting on me being there.”
Wyatt frowned, his dark blue eyes evaluating me. “I know what that’s like. I never followed any other path than my father’s footsteps. I think he may have had a CEO-in-training plaque attached to my crib.”
“So you understand why I have to go,” I said, shoving a chip in my mouth in an attempt to choke down the morose feelings that were trying to well up.
Jace sniffed, but kept his opinion to himself.
Wyatt leaned back in his chair and set the envelope in his lap, his thumb still playing over the wax seal. “I know that I enjoy what I do and that I’m better at it than anyone else in my family’s company. But I also haven’t done much else in my life besides work. I’ve spent a lot of time doing what’s been expected of me and have passed by many unbeaten paths that maybe I should’ve tried.”
I looked down at my beer, the words landing solidly on me.
Wyatt glanced at Jace. “Sometimes forging your own path is the way to find what you’re really looking for. Look at this guy. I thought for sure he’d end up in prison or worse—on reality TV. But turns out he’s found his way to a pretty happy life.”
Jace smirked. “You’ve still got a shit ton more money than I do, though.”
Wyatt laughed. “Well, there is that.”
I smiled, the response automatic, polite, but my head was already chasing a thought I couldn’t quite tear myself away from. I hauled myself up from the chair. “I’m going to see if Evan needs any help.”
But when I walked back into the air-conditioning, I was on the hunt for someone else. My brother’s muffled laughter drifted from down the hallway. I turned on my heel and headed that way, mission in mind.
But when I reached the end of the hallway and cau
ght a glimpse through the partially open door to one of the bedrooms, I froze in place. Andre’s arm was wrapped around Evan’s waist, and his face was buried against her neck, kissing it. Evan’s eyes were closed, her head tilted back with an openmouthed smile.
“Stop,” she chided. “I didn’t get any icing over there.”
His other hand drifted beneath her skirt. “What about here? Should I take a taste and find out?”
My beer dropped to the floor, making a racket but not breaking. Andre reared up, looking toward the door as lager fizzed across the floorboards. I wanted to yell, to turn around and escape, but I was locked to the spot, outrage boiling up and over.
“Marcela.” Andre strode forward.
Evan stayed back, biting her lip, worry in her eyes.
Andre pushed the door wide and reached out to me, but the touch snapped me out of my stunned state. I shrugged off his hand. “What the fuck are you doing?”
I never cursed like that, especially around my family, but nothing else fit the situation or the blind anger racing through me. My brother, the one who made his living on making sure people did the right thing, was screwing his best friend’s girl?
“Cela, listen,” Andre said, raising his hands like I was a dog that could bite.
“He’s your best friend, Andre! Your best friend. How could you do this?” I asked, wanting to shake him, to throw things that would injure.
He closed his eyes, took a breath. “Evan, give us a minute, okay?”
Evan nodded and hurried past the two of us, giving me wide berth.
“I don’t need a minute,” I said, watching Evan walk away. “Nothing you can say makes this okay.”
I tried to turn so I could leave, but Andre did grab for me this time, capturing my wrist and tugging me into the bedroom. “Hold up. Sit. We need to talk.”
I crossed my arms, refusing to sit. “Talk, then.”
He sighed and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, suddenly looking like the teenaged version of himself, the one who wasn’t so self-assured. “Look, I know this seems bad, but you have to trust me. I have good reason to kiss Evan.”