If she’s still in the compound by morning though, I’ll be surprised.
Chapter 14
Laurel
Opening Pandora’s Box last night was both mind-blowing and electric. Trick’s bizarre life is equal parts horrifying and alluring. Gorgeous, powerful men who’ve been able to have the most debauched, uncommitted personal lives and then just decide to settle down, as if they have a right to a semi-normal life. I can’t completely wrap my mind around it.
Escaping the room before Trick wakes is a priority. I’m not ready to have sex with him again yet, though I understand better now why he thinks he should have a right to sex whenever he wants it. Habit.
The kitchen’s empty when I get there, so I start the coffee and lay out the tea. I’m waiting for Zoe to appear, but Connor’s the one who arrives first in shorts and a t-shirt.
“Hey, how you feelin’?”
I force myself to make eye contact and even offer a small smile. “All right. You?”
He flashes an amused smile at the question, and it reminds me of Trick. “I’m good.” C pours himself a cup of coffee. “Zoe’s upstairs. Why don’t you go up? She could use a cup of a tea and some company.”
“Tea?”
C puts an herbal raspberry tea bag in a cup and uses the hot water spigot to fill it. Then he grabs a canister of cookies from the cupboard and sets it on the counter. “Take her some of those too.” Then he leaves the kitchen.
As instructed, I arrange a bunch of cookies around the cup and take it upstairs to Zoe. She lies face down on top of the king-sized bed as a musical plays on the large flat-screen. She’s wearing a peach thong, which reveals the bright red lines across her very round backside. Her eyes are red from crying.
Jesus Christ.
I set the tea on a dresser and sit next to her.
“Oh, honey. Are you okay?”
“Yes, yes. I love him, but he’s impossible!” She says the last word loudly, projecting it through the room and maybe to the ground floor. I doubt though that Connor hears it in the workout room where the music’s blaring.
“What are those marks from?”
She waves a dismissive hand. “A cane. For when I’m extra.” She pushes her wildly curly hair over her shoulder. “We were fighting, and I threw a jewelry box at him and broke it.” Tears well up in her eyes.
My jaw drops.
“When he gave it to me, he didn’t tell me it was some priceless antique. Why would you give your girlfriend a gift that costs a zillion dollars and not at least hint that it used to belong to some countess? Who does that! You wouldn’t give someone an unsigned Picasso painting without saying what it was, would you?”
“You threw something at Connor McCann?”
She bursts out laughing. “I know, right?” She wrinkles her nose. “A couple months ago, a drunk obnoxious guy was hitting on me, and C came over and told him to back off. The guy cursed and directed a nasty racial slur at me. C punched him in the face so hard it broke his jaw.” She shakes her head. “Whenever I think he’s rough with me, I remind myself that he’s way, way rougher on other people. And I was being extra extra this morning. Which—I don’t know why I do that because it always gets me in trouble.”
“What were you fighting about?”
“I was being a brat about talking to you actually.”
“To me?”
“Yes, he said you might want to talk to me about him because you’re trying to understand what you’re getting yourself into with Trick and C Crue. And I said a bunch of stupid things, like a jealous little cat. Which is exactly why C thinks I’m too young to get married.” She chews her lip. “I’m honestly not. But when someone treats you like a little girl half the time and you’re so frustrated, sometimes you act like one. What does he expect? Does he think he could get away with spanking a Supreme Court justice?” She glances at the screen. “I love this song. But he’s C, so maybe he would spank a judge if she got sassy with him. I really don’t know.”
“Your relationship with him seems complicated.”
Laughter bubbles up and fills the room. “It’s pretty simple actually. Be good and sweet, get presents. Throw tantrums, get spanked—or caned if you’re very bad.”
“Did he tell you he used you to put on a sex show last night?”
Her eyes are on the screen, and she mouths some lyrics. Then she flicks the television off and turns to me. “All right, Hamilton’s off. I’m sorry. It’s rude of me to have that on. Don’t tell him. He wouldn’t be happy that I was watching television and rambled for like fifteen minutes while you were trying to ask questions.”
