“There was nothing normal about it –”
“Anthony told me you went to the bathroom and started acting erratically. He thinks you took something.”
“And you believe him?”
“He said you climbed out of the window in a panic, and he had no idea where you’d gone. He drove around looking for you –”
“He’s lying.”
“That’s what he told me happened.”
Scott’s laugh came out strangled. “He’s making me sound crazy.”
“No one is calling you crazy.”
“But you’re thinking it, aren’t you?”
Scott flared his nostrils and ended the call. He scrunched the piece of paper into his fist.
He needed to make money, fast, and the easiest way to do it was by escorting. He had regulars. A whole list of them on his phone.
He sent the same message to all of them, telling them he had a free schedule and could do them a good price.
Only one, Max, messaged back to say he no longer required Scott’s services.
Did I do something wrong?
Your boyfriend warned me off.
“Boyfriend,” Scott whispered, and the first thought that popped into his head was Thomas before he quickly squashed it. Thomas didn’t like the escorting, but he wouldn’t intervene. As long as Scott didn’t bring anyone back to the mansion, he didn’t mind.
It was Warren.
Had to be.
Scott had no idea how he’d managed to get Max’s number, but he’d found a way, like he’d found a way into Scott’s apartment, swapped the shock collar and got Anthony to lie for him.
He needed money, and so far, he’d spent more than he’d made on the salon treatments.
His page needed to go live.
He needed subscribers, and he needed content to satisfy them.
Scott heaved himself out of bed, unlocked the door, and went to the next bedroom that looked more like a studio than a place for rest.
He set a camera to record, knelt on the bed and took himself in hand.
He couldn’t get hard.
His mind was too distracted, and after twenty minutes of pulling at his flaccid cock, he collapsed back and stared up at the ceiling.
When he blinked, he saw an unhappy face glowing in an eery green, then he blinked again, and it was gone, nothing but his imagination.
Scott tipped half of the dinner onto a plate to microwave. It was Moroccan chicken, served with couscous and a Greek yoghurt and mint dip, and it tasted incredible.
Afterwards, he loaded the dishwasher but didn’t start the machine.
Thomas didn’t come out of the snake room.
