I look back at Cruz; he knows what I just heard. He inches closer to me, watching me like I’m a skittish horse about to bolt. But I have nowhere to go. If I leave their protection, whomever my papa hired will find me and drag me back home. It’s a risk I’m not willing to take. The reality of what they have done might sting, but being forced to marry some new asshole is a fate worse than death.
Cruz’s hand lands on my arm softly, and I flinch back from him. That doesn’t deter him, though. He presses his fingertips more firmly into my arm and hip on the other side, holding me in place as his eyes lock with mine. They flash with something I don’t understand after what I just heard. Concern maybe? “What did your brother say?”
I stare back at him, shaking my head, a strange sadness overwhelming me. It’s silly but part of me thought there was something here between us. I can’t talk, the words won’t come out of my mouth as flashes of the past week come back to me. How it felt to have his lips on mine, to orgasm under Jagger’s directions, and to be taken care of by Asher. I let them get close to me in a way I never intended for them to. “Not now, Cruz,” I murmur as I drop my shoulder so I can slip out of his grip and move slowly through the room to the bathroom. He doesn’t stop me. He must know what my brother told me.
I close the bathroom door with a deafening click, locking it behind me. My exhausted body slumps. I can’t deal with them right now. I need to be alone.
When my hands won’t stop trembling and the tears keep leaking from my eyes. I strip off my clothes and turn the shower on to scorching. When I step under the water, it burns my skin, but I don’t care. My body crumples, suddenly exhausted, slipping down the tile wall until I hit the cold unyielding floor. Pulling my knees into my chest, hugging myself, I let it all out. Relief at knowing Valentine is dead. Pain from knowing I’m just a commodity to be sold to the highest bidder to my parents. And overwhelming sadness and disappointment from knowing the boys I have been getting to know have only kept me here because my brother was paying them to. I’m nothing but property to all of them.
This can’t be my life. I’m worth more, no matter what family I was born into.
Chapter 22
I’m Not in Love
WhenIeventuallystepout of the bathroom, I find my bedroom door shut and the room eerily silent. Thank the Lord because I’m just in a towel. I didn’t think that shower through. All I knew was I needed to get away from them and purge the awful way I was feeling. The hot shower was a slight comfort, but this feeling deep in the pit of my stomach won’t go away. Probably ever. I guess at least now I know what this is. I was stupidly starting to have feelings, something I don’t do, ever. The only way to truly protect myself is to never fall for anyone. Keep my heart locked up tight. That way, whatever they do to me, it doesn’t matter. And now I know what I wasfeeling was nothing more than sexual desire, a throbbing need between my legs that I wanted desperately to be filled. That’s all. I can stay here with them, knowing that. It’s easy, actually. They will use me to get paid by my brother, and I will use them for protection and maybe the occasional orgasm if I feel like it. No one needs to get hurt because it is what it is. Simple.
With that thought in mind, I step into my closet and select a dress off the rack. Something cute I picked out with Sloane today and that I will wear just for me. It has a floral pattern in burgundy and black and fits snugly around my waist with a skirt that has two layers and sits just above my knees. I find a pair of knee-high black socks and roll them on. No need for shoes since we’re staying in. I don’t even want to go out into the world again, knowing my papa’s people are out there somewhere looking for me.
Brushing my hair, I leave it out to dry, not bothering with make-up. I have no one I need to impress here. That thought should be liberating, except it’s not. Because as stupid as I now know it is, I was enjoying their attention, the way it felt to be seen for once. I could have gotten used to it, but now I just feel empty again. Like I used to.
When I open the door, I expect to hear chaos, the boys arguing or some fight on the TV, but it’s quiet, the low hum of a TV playing music in the background and the aroma of a simmering tomato and fresh garlic dinner cooking on the stove, but that’s it.
Jagger stands at the stove stirring a pot, his back to me. Asher is setting the table, and he offers me a lopsided smile that looks almost apologetic. I don’t pretend to smile back. I don’t have it in me.
Cruz is plonked on the sofa with the remote in his hand, channel surfing from some music clips, to football games, to some drama, his knee bouncing as he does.
I stand in the doorway, not sure what to do. I feel awkward in their presence, like I don’t belong here for the first time since they dragged me back to this apartment. Even when Jagger was telling me to leave and move out, I didn’t feel this uncomfortable. But something has shifted because now I know the truth.
“Go tell her it’s ready. If she doesn’t want to eat, make her,” Jagger grumbles into the room, and I suspect he doesn’t realize I’m standing right here. He sounds angry, but it’s not like he has any right to be.
“Dinner’s ready, little princess,” Asher says, his smile broadening. He’s one sexy motherfucker. It makes sense he has a new girl every night. He works at a sex club and is constantly surrounded by beautiful women, so why wouldn’t he enjoy himself? Especially when he looks like he stepped off the front page of Bad Boy Weekly magazine, if there even was such a thing.
Jagger looks over his shoulder, his face hardening when he sees me standing here. Then, he looks back at the meal he’s preparing. And maybe I have found the reason Jagger needs to pay for sex and have the women wear a blindfold. He might be just as attractive as his younger brother in a dark, broody kind of way, but his personality is shit. He’s bossy and grumpy and constantly irritated. Or maybe that’s just around me because I’m such an inconvenience to him. A job he never wanted to take on, and that is it.
Asher pulls out a chair. “You can sit here,” he offers, turning on the charm real thick, a smile that makes it all the way to his dimples. “We even have wine if you want a drink?”
I shake my head. The last thing I need to do is drink around these guys. I have already made enough bad choices when it comes to them. I move through the room to the chair and sit with an exhausted sigh. My body feels weighed down.
Cruz turns off the TV, coming to join us. His eyes track over me, his lips turning up at the sides by the time they make it to my face. “Cute,” is all he says before he plonks down into the chair beside me, like everything is normal between us.
Part of me wishes I could go back to this morning, still be on that blissful high with him, instead of feeling like shit like I do now. Sometimes it’s better not to know the truth. But then I know I would have only gotten myself in deeper here than I could handle. This is for the best, Daisy, you have to know it is.
I stare at my empty bowl, wondering what on earth the grump has cooked up for us. Cruz and Asher’s eyes burn into me, but I can’t return their looks, it just hurts. I have no idea why, when I have known them for such a small amount of time. What, did I expect them to be into me for real? That’s just foolish. The truth makes more sense. But it doesn’t mean it hasn’t left a strange hollowness inside of me. A small part of me wanted more for my life than being alone forever just to protect my heart.
Jagger circles the table, spaghetti in hand, filling our bowls, before topping them off with what looks like a hearty bolognese sauce and fresh-shaven parmesan cheese. Even though he’s cooked up something that smells and looks delicious, I can’t imagine him as a cook; his tattooed, muscular build seems mismatched at the stove, cooking for his brothers almost like a father figure to them. It’s almost comical, and I might laugh if I wasn’t trying so hard not to do anything that could end in my bursting into tears again.
Cruz doesn’t wait for the rest of us, he just digs right in, and Asher follows him. I pick up my fork, knowing I should thank Jagger for the meal he has prepared, it would be the polite thing to do, but he’s never been polite to me, and I’m feeling spiteful tonight, so I rebel against my manners and keep my thank-you to myself. Inspecting the bowl ofpasta, I wonder if it’s safe to consume. With a heavy sigh, I spin the spaghetti around my fork and scoop it into my mouth. I have nothing to lose. An instant moan of pleasure leaves my lips. I’m Italian, and I have never tasted a sauce like this. It’s divine.
“That delicious, hey, little darlin’?” Cruz snickers, polishing off his bowlful before reaching for the ladle and scooping himself a second helping.
I glare at Cruz then scoop up another mouthful, shoving it in my mouth quickly when I realize Cruz isn’t the only one watching me. Jagger’s steely gaze is fixed on my mouth. I can’t help but wonder what he is thinking. Is he wondering if I like his food or is he picturing my mouth wrapped back around his cock? Why do I get the feeling from the mischief in his dark eyes, it’s the latter?
Quickly I glance away, concentrating on my meal. I can do this, eat here, sleep here, work at the club. It’s not quite the exciting life I envisioned for myself for the next few months, but it’s doable. I reckon I could even do it without having to utter a single word to any of them ever again. I just have to stop picturing them naked and we’re good.
Cruz’s hand moves to my thigh, dusting its way slowly up my leg, his eyes locking with mine. “Cat got your tongue?” He grins cheekily.
His touch lights me up inside and has me already going back on my agreement with myself not to imagine them naked. I raise a brow like what the hell are you doing, trying to act chill and bitchy so he backs off.
