by D W Marshall
We both laugh at Thomas’ reaction.
“Yep, but it’s a lot easier to say and spell, than Jessamine. Nice to meet you, Thomas.”
I watch as Thomas checks my partner out from head to toe; he is more than pleased with what he sees. Sam is decked out in tight workout pants and a sports bra, her blonde hair in a ponytail.
“Let’s get back to stretching,” I say and know that Sam is about to reel him in.
She ignores our hamstring stretch and jumps into a series of splits in all directions, followed by spreading her legs out wide and flattening her torso to the floor. She looks over at Thomas and smiles, while he gawks.
My partner has a way with men. She oozes a natural sensuality that she yields like a weapon. Rare men can see passed it without getting trapped in her snare. I’m one of the rare ones who can. Sam and I are the truest example of how the opposite sex can be friends. We never once considered a romantic entanglement. She always joked that we’re both too pretty. But then how would you explain Whitney who is every bit as gorgeous as Sam?
Part of it for me is being a natural protector; Sam never needed protecting. It isn’t that I see her as one of the guys—more like a sister that kicked my ass and defended me growing up—like siblings.
Thomas doesn’t stand a chance.
“I’ll be right back,” I say, but neither of them even acknowledges me.
I head to the men’s locker room and shoot a text to Whitney.
Me: Hey, just checking up on you. How’re you doing?
Whitney: I’m hanging out with my family at the beach. What’re you doing?
Me: Working out. Sorry I didn’t call you yesterday. My cousin came into town. I’d love for you guys to meet.
Whitney: You don’t have to apologize.
Me: I’d like to see you. Check on you in person.
Whitney: I’d like that too. Enjoy your workout.
The smile on my face makes my cheeks hurt. I really like this girl. When I return to the workout area, Sam and Thomas are flirting just as I suspected.
“Hey, hey. Did I forget to mention that my cousin has a boyfriend, and Thomas here is engaged? Let’s keep it on the up and up.”
In response, Sam stands up, walks over to the wall and puts her leg up into a split against the wall. “Stop being such a rule follower. There is nothing wrong with two attractive people flirting.”
Thomas stands up from the ground; he can’t tear his eyes away from her. “Listen to your cousin. It’s just innocent, eh.”
Sam excuses herself to the free weight area and Thomas pounces.
“Why are you blocking my shit, Niko?”
This guy’s really is a piece of shit. “You are engaged, right?”
He shrugs. “If you can even call it that. We haven’t been intimate once since she got home.”
The news hits me right in the center of my heart. I didn’t have the right to ask Whitney, but this revelation speaks volumes about the woman that is carving a place in my heart.
“Doesn’t mean you can make a play for my cousin.”
“Hey, grown woman here.” Sam cuts through our conversation. We have played this angle more than once. “If you must know, Niko, Dean and I broke up.”
Thomas’ smile broadens.
“What? When?” I feign the perfect amount of shock.
“Months ago. It’s good. I’m happy.”
The set-up is made. I pretend like the shock is too much and I can’t watch this unfold. I grab my things and begin to storm out.
“So, you’re gonna leave like an angsty teen? You still picking me up for dinner?” Sam shouts after me.
As if on cue, Thomas chimes in and says he would love to escort her.
“Looks like I got dinner covered!” she yells. “But you better get over your shit by tomorrow. I didn’t fly across the world to spend time by myself.”
I continue to walk away. Hook, line, and sinker.
Chapter 18
Whitney
The sun is still high in the sky when Thomas and I arrive at the beach. His idea of dinner is really more of a late lunch, promising that I will be hungry again before bedtime. I’m glad that he has come to his senses and stopped trying to impress me with expensive meals. Al Fresco is a perfect date location. It’s really a bunch of food trucks in the parking lot off the beach with picnic tables and paths that lead to beach cabanas. Thomas reserved a cabana for us, and I order a sushi bowl. Thomas orders a poke burrito.
The baby blue summer dress and sandals I’m wearing are perfect for our date. No makeup, and my natural curls blowing in the slight breeze.
Thomas runs back to the food truck to get extra sauce for his burrito and I watch him. His confidence is overwhelming. He’s the sort of guy that sits in the coffee shop loudly chatting about the stock market and other business dealings with friends or on his phone. He yearns for everyone around him to know how successful he is before he opens his mouth. I think back to only twenty minutes ago when Thomas picked me up. My dad opened the door to Thomas and you’d have thought a dignitary was entering our home. My parents gushed over Thomas like he was a prize that I should count my lucky stars for daily. If only they knew the real Thomas. It makes me sad watching him now. Did I ever really know him?
Thomas makes his way back to our cabana, handing me extra napkins. “I’ve missed this place so much,” I say.
“Yeah, me too. They’ve done some cool upgrades,” Thomas says.
I lean forward and sit cross-legged facing him and start in on my bowl. “Like what?”
He copies the action. “When the sun goes down it’s supposed to light up like Christmas,” he says, kicking his shoes off.
“That sounds perfect.”
Looking around, there are plenty of other couples and small groups of people enjoying a day at the beach. But this is so much more romantic than a usual day. The cabanas are a combination of bed and sofa, allowing plenty of room to stretch out. The rich dark wooden pergola is dressed with thick white sheer material that opens up to the ocean, making the view extraordinary.
“There’s music too,” he says.
That makes me smile, and as if on cue, soft music floats through the air.
“This place is spectacular, Thomas.” I continue to dig into my food. I feel slightly happy; I think things may just be going my way.
“Sorry I haven’t been around much; I’ve been working on some things. Can’t have you marrying a pauper,” he says, breaking the silence.
I sigh and stare at him for a moment before speaking. “Thomas, when have I ever given you the impression that I care about money? Marriage is for better or for worse. We’ll get by, no matter what.” I focus on my food and take a couple of bites. When I look up at Thomas, he is staring at me, all smiles.
“I’m so glad you said that, Whit.”
We continue eating, finding a comfortable quiet for the first time since he made his business intentions known. My shoulders relax, and the tension leaves my body. This crisis may have been averted.
“Thomas, what do think about London?”
“I love it there,” he says around a bite of burrito.
“That’s good to hear.”
His face bares his curiosity before he says, “Why do you ask?”
I set my food down and inhale a dose of fresh air. Telling your fiancé that you plan to move to another country can be relationship-ending business. “Because I may be relocating there in the fall, and I want you to come with me.” I brace myself for his reaction. “We can get the fresh start we both really need.” I take another breath and continue. “Maybe you can even go back to school for something else.” I wait for his reaction which, at the moment, is a look of confusion, as if I’ve grown a second head.
Thomas drops his food onto his plate and continues to stare at me but, with each passing second, his expression grows darker. Then, as if a switch inside flips, he smiles—but if his intention is to comfort, he needs a mirror, because it has the opposite e
ffect.
“I thought we discussed this, Whitney. We already have a fresh start. This is happening. You aren’t going to London.”
“But—” I try to say before he cuts me off.
“We started something here—” He jabs his finger into the sofa. “—and we are going to see it through. Why are you being this way?” I imagine a pot of water set on the stove that is swirling as it builds its way up to boiling when I look at Thomas. He is growing angrier by the second.
A shiver runs through me. I have changed nothing. “I’m not a whore,” I mean to say the words with strength and conviction, but my voice fails me, and it comes out small and weak. My heart is hurting once again.
He laughs. “Are you sure about that? Cause if memory serves me, you’ve already served one customer.” He shakes his head at me, smiling like he’s already won. Like I flunked a test.
My hand connects with his face before I can stop it. I gasp at my reaction. I have never slapped anyone before. Thomas gapes at me in obvious shock, but he is not nearly as angry as I expected him to be.
“Hmph.” He rubs his jaw. “I see.” He stiffens. “Now I’m the bad guy, eh, Whitney?”
He stares at me with a look in his eyes that isn’t hate, but it’s close. “You know, you could have turned me down the other night, walked away, but you didn’t. Instead you showed me who you are, no, what you are. You went to the sixth floor and fucked a complete stranger. Which tells me that you’ll do anything for me. You’re mine.”
My palm stings from the contact. My eyes burn with scorching tears. My heart aches from being broken. I try another tactic. Money is what he is hungry for. “I have money saved up, Thomas. You can have it, thirty thousand dollars for your fresh start, our fresh start, in London, away from all of this.”
He laughs at me, again. “We’ve already begun our fresh start, you and me. And in a few months, your thirty thousand will be chump change in comparison. Trust me.”
“I’m really trying to, Thomas.” I sigh. I feel the sag in my body. When I came to this romantic destination I was full of hope, inflated with the belief that he was past his insane idea, only to sit across from him with my hope deflating like a punctured air mattress. I fear that the longer I sit in front of this man I don’t know anymore, the greater the risk that there won’t be much left of me.
“You want a refill?” I reach my hand out for his cup, even my arm feels heavy.
“Sure.” He hands his cup to me and smirks. “You’ll come around to my side. I’m all you got, Whit.”
I slip my phone into my pocket, grab my cup and head to the food truck, and mourn my relationship on the way. Tears pierce my eyes. I’m so damned tired of crying. I came home wanting a better life, my old life, but this is worse than The Chamber. At least there I could expect cruelty, to be treated like a whore. The crazy thing is Thomas is treating me worse than anyone at The Chamber ever did.
I make a decision while I wait in the short line and decide to call for a ride.
Me: Can you come and pick me up? I hate to ask, but I’m breaking up with Thomas, and I don’t think it’ll be pretty.
I get an immediate response.
Niko: Where are you?
Me: Al Fresco at the Alcove. Middle cabana.
Niko: On my way. Don’t break up with him until I get there.
Me: K. Thanks.
Niko: Erase your text messages to me.
Great thinking.
I erase our conversation and pull up Instagram while I wait my turn, commenting on pictures from Amaris’ photo shoot. When I look up, Thomas is watching me. When it’s my turn, I request the refills, grab our drinks, and head back.
“Here you go,” I lean over and hand Thomas his drink.
“Thanks. Who were you talking to?”
I give him a look of confusion. “I was checking on things, mainly Amaris’ latest photo shoot.” I pull out my phone and pull up her Instagram pics and show him, pretending that the photo shoot is the most exciting thing I’ve seen in a long time.
He glances at her photos in a noncommittal way. “Can I see your ring?” he asks when I take a seat. I reach my arm out to show him my ring. “Not like that, take it off and show it to me.”
I do as he requests and hand him the ring, watching as he slips it into his pocket.
“What’re you doing with that?” I ask.
He leans back against the fluffy pillows. “You’ll get it back.”
“When?” I act concerned. Even if this is the last time I plan to ever see him, I’m still curious about his intentions.
He stares at me. “When you come to your senses and realize that this is the deal me made. And you will come around, because I’m all you have,” he repeats himself. He has made it his point to remind me every chance he gets. But what he doesn’t know is that it couldn’t be further from the truth.
Would I stay if he was all that I had, if I didn’t have a stronger shoulder to cry on? If there wasn’t another competitor waiting in the wings? I know the answer to that question without giving it a second thought.
I am weak.
But to save myself from what Thomas has planned for me I will grab onto any lifeline I can. For me, right now, that happens be Niko Andres—my knight, my shoulder, my friend.
As if he rode in on an actual white horse, wearing a white hat, Niko appears.
“Hey, guys,” he says in his smooth voice that already has too comforting an effect on me. I can feel the tension melt away because I know I am in good hands now.
Thomas hops up from the cabana and reaches out his hand in greeting, as if Niko just happened to show up, passing by on his way to stroll the beach or dine at Al Fresco. Thomas greets him as if this is a total coincidence. “Niko, what are you doing here? You could have called me if you wanted to hire us for another special night. We are definitely open for business.”
Niko doesn’t accept his offered hand. He looks down at it and back up into Thomas’ eyes with a glare.
“I came to pick up Whitney,” he says.
Thomas looks completely taken off guard. When I walk over and stand beside Niko, his confusion gives way to anger.
“What the hell are you talking about? Whitney isn’t going anywhere with you.” A muscle in his jaw contracts, and I gaze down and see his hands fisting and relaxing. “Whitney isn’t going anywhere with you,” he repeats through gritted teeth.
My heart is pounding in my chest. “I called Niko to come and pick me up. It’s over, Thomas.” I take a step closer to Niko.
Thomas stares between the two of us. He isn’t a big man, but he is strong. I watch as Thomas sizes Niko up, deciding if he can take him. I can see the moment when he realizes the odds are stacked against him.
“This isn’t over, Whitney. You work for me. You think you can call your first customer to save you? No, I see, the two of you plan to go into business together.” He glares at Niko. “You think she’ll be your whore, instead of mine, eh? Ain’t gonna happen.”
My feet are frozen in the sand, and my legs feel like lead pipes. This is what I’m reduced to in Thomas’ eyes. It was never going to work between us because he holds me accountable for what happened to me. I should have seen the truth the day I came home. His questions were less about how I was doing, if I was okay, and more about why I stayed so long, why I never tried to leave, wondering just how much I fought—as if I chose to be there. His business wheels set to spinning at that moment. If she can stay for her captor, what would she do for the man she loves? He is an animal. I hate him with every fiber of my being.
Niko moves. He steps toward Thomas, directly into his space. “Say another contrary word about Whitney and I will beat you senseless, you piece of shit.”
“She is my fiancé. She stays with me.” Thomas doesn’t back down; he puffs his chest out and tries to take advantage of every inch of his available height, but his voice lacks the initial confidence.
“You don’t get it, do you? You had your chance, and you f
ucked it up. Whitney is a beautiful woman who spent a year in hell, and when she gets back you think it’s a fine idea to pimp her out?”
Thomas’ eyes cut to me and his stare is menacing. I never thought he would be capable of hurting me physically, but the way he is looking at me I now know he is capable of anything.
Thomas speaks up, his eyes never leave mine. “Whitney is a smart girl. She knows this is about business, and she knows I love her. You have to know that I love you.”
I look down at the ground. “Doesn’t matter.” I pause for a moment to control my breathing. “I’m not what you want me to be, and I never will be. I keep trying to make you forget this idea and you won’t. So, it’s over, Thomas.”
He starts laughing. His whole body shakes. Niko takes a step back, landing in a protective stance, ready to strike. Thomas bends over and continues laughing at something humorous that we have not been privy to. “I’m sorry. But this is some funny shit.” He pauses and glances back between the two of us. Pointing his finger at us.
“You fucked this guy—a perfect stranger—for me. And now you’re breaking up with me to be with the guy you fucked?” He stops talking to laugh some more. He holds up a finger, sucks in some air, and says, “But wait, let’s not forget to add you got paid to sleep with him. Correction. I got paid.” He stops laughing and takes a few more breaths. Tears from laughing so hard fill his eyes. “Get your ass over here next to me, Whitney. You are a whore and you’re mine.” He says, no longer laughing. He stares daggers at me, and deep down inside I believe he thinks I will step away from Niko and join. “I’m waiting.”
Niko leans forward, a huge grin on his face. “You think you’re a comedian, huh?”
Thomas smiles and nods.
“Jokes on you, asshole. We—” Niko gestures between him and I. “Never had sex.” He quiets and waits for his words to sink in. Niko leaks and oozes confidence. I soak some of it up and stand a little taller. I can’t wait to see this all go down. The moment when Thomas realizes that he has lost me for good, that he can’t control me, that I don’t belong to him—the moment that the smug look is wiped off of his face permanently.