“What?” I sat up, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “You’re a fuckin’ monster.” I said it, but even to my own ears, it sounded like a compliment.
“Maybe.” He agreed with a shrug. Putting out the cigar on the nightstand ashtray.
I wanted to argue, to scream, to hit him. Instead, I just nodded, because there was nothing left to say. He was lost.
Lord left the room without another word, the door clicking softly shut behind him. I waited until I was sure he was gone before letting myself fall apart.
The city lights outside the window blurred as I cried like a dummy. Hot tears burned tracks down my face. I hated him. I loved him. I wanted to crawl out of my own skin and disappear. Why? Why did he do this to me?
Chapter Fourteen
LABRIA
Iwas alone in the bedroom. My ripped clothes were in the other room. I wrapped in the bedsheet and found my way back to the main room. My limbs were shaky, and my nerves were raw. Lord was standing there. He was dressed now, like none of what happened between us had touched him. He didn’t look at me when I appeared in the doorway, naked except for the thin sheet I’d wrapped around myself.
When he finally did turn, his blue eyes were devoid of the heat they’d held an hour before. His gaze traveled over my body with a look of disgust. There was no softness in his eyes.
He snorted and shook his head. “You’re pathetic.”
The words knocked the air out of my lungs. I stood there, mute, without a challenge to back me up.
“You fuck him. Then you fuck me.” He went on. His voice was low and sharp. “Just like a fucking whore.”
A whore? What the fuck was happening?
Lord’s mouth twisted into a sneer. “Get dressed.” He gestured to where my clothes lay torn and discarded on the marble floor. “Or do you want to parade your tits and pussy out in front of my security? I mean, they might want to fuck you too if they’re into whores.”
I didn’t move. My feet were glued to the floor. I was so hurt and confused by his words I had forgot I was Black and could cuss him, his mammie and his grandmother all the way the fuck out.
He rolled his eyes in disgust and stalked over to the pile of ruined fabric. He scooped up my clothes and purse and threw them at my feet. The impact made me flinch. “Get the fuck out.”
My hands trembled as I bent to retrieve the pieces of my blouse and skirt. The panties were beyond repair. My bra wasn’t much better. One strap was broken. Still, I pulled them on as best I could, trying to piece together some version of myself from the scraps he’d left.
Lord watched, arms crossed, with a look of pure contempt on his face. I could feel fresh tears starting to burn, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry again. Not if I could help it.
He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a small stack of crisp hundred-dollar bills. He took enough steps to flick them at me like I was a stripper. “For your trouble.” He spat the words out.
He gestured at the bills on the floor. Did he think I would pick up the bills? Then, he pulled out his cell phone and made a call.
“Come. Take her back.”
A few seconds later, one of his men, who had taken me earlier, stepped inside, eyes respectfully lowered. He didn’t even look at me. “Boss?”
“She’s ready,” Lord said, not looking up from his phone. “Take her back to her car.” He paused, then added, “And don’t talk to her.”
“Yes, sir.”
Lord dismissed me with a wave.
I wanted to spit at him. Instead, I walked my ass to the elevator with the hulking security dude right behind me. His henchman guided me out without touching me, walking one careful step behind as if escorting an invalid.
The elevator was silent. The man’s presence was large but unthreatening. He never looked directly at me, never once let his eyes stray above my chin.
In the parking garage, the black sedan waited, engine idling, air already chilled to perfection. I slid into the backseat, cradling my arms around my ruined clothes, trying to avoid looking at my own reflection in the tinted window. My face was streaked with dried tears and mascara, lips swollen, eyes red.
The drive back to the law firm was quick and uneventful. The man said nothing, as instructed. He didn’t even turn on the radio.
When we arrived, my Mercedes sat in the exact same spot where I’d left it. Nothing about the outside world had changed. The parking lot was empty, silent, the rest of the city moving on with its life. I stepped out of the car, numb, my ruined clothing flapping around my legs in the dry Nevada breeze. The security guy handed over my briefcase. I didn’t even know where it came from. I was sleepwalking at this point.
