He slams it shut behind me.
He’s in a mood.Of course, he is. I don’t even know why I keep doing this.Because you want this.Do I? I was given a choice, and this seemed like the best one at the time. I’m trying to prove to my family that I’m the daughter they were meant to have.That I’m not a quitter. All I ever wanted was to make my father proud. Typical woman trying to do the impossible. Especially considering he’s dead. Not like he’ll know what I end up doing with my life.
“Do I even want to know how your day is going?” I ask, looking up at Haidyn.
His narrowed eyes land on mine, and I can feel my heartbeat in my cheek. “What the fuck happened to you?” he barks out.
“I’m fine,” I say defensively.How the hell can he tell?Guess I did a shittier job than I thought covering up the marks.
He steps into me and reaches out. I hold my breath when the tips of his fingers run the length of my forehead and gently down the side of my face, pushing my hair back.
I shove his hand away, getting annoyed and self-conscious. “I said I’m fine.”
“Does this have to do with your car being on the side of the road yesterday?”
The hairs on the back of my neck rise. “Have you been following me?” The thought has my stomach doing flips. Does he know where I live? Who I am? No. He can’t know that much. If he did, he wouldn’t be concerned. Instead, he’d be killing me right now. I live in this city too and can drive on the road outside of his house. He can’t prove I was stalking him. Shit! Unless he’s got cameras out by the gate. No. No. No. I stayed far enough away not to be seen for that very reason.
He doesn’t answer. Instead, his dark blue eyes run over my black dress. It’s not revealing in any way. It’s high on the neck with long sleeves and comes to my knees. I go to step back, giving up some space, but he grabs my wrists. His fingers tighten to the point I cry out. “Hai-dyn.”
He yanks me to him, forcing me to drop my purse. Pushing my sleeves up on my arms, he reveals my bruised wrist. “What the fuck, Charlotte?”
“It’s none of your business,” I bark out.
If I wanted him to know, I would have called him instead of Wesley. It's not like he would have answered anyway. He’s been avoiding me. This makes me question why he called and left me a message. It wasn’t a coincidence. He knew something had happened, and he wanted to see me.
Haidyn steps into me, and I tilt my head back to look up at him. My heart hammers in my chest. He never gets this close, and we’ve never been somewhere alone. When I see him at Carnage at least I know Saint and Kashton are somewhere nearby. Here, it’s just him and me. No one will hear me scream or know to look for me. If I don’t report to the Lords, they’ll just move on and find someone else to do the job I failed. I’m defenseless here and completely at his mercy.
He cups my face, his large hands softly touching my flushed cheeks. “Talk to me, doll face. What happened…who did this to you?”
Wetness pools between my shaking legs, soaking my underwear, and I stare into his blue eyes, getting lost in the depths of what I’ve always known to be hell. I can’t tell him. I can’t afford for him to figure out who I am. It’ll all be over, and I’ll be a permanent resident at Carnage, naked and chained in the basement. I’m committed to this fake life, and I can’t afford to chance it.
“Things got a little rough,” I lie, hating how breathless my voice sounds. His presence makes me fucking weak. And although his words sounded like he cared, I know it’s a lie. The Lords are masters at manipulation.
His eyes harden. “So you’re telling me that someone tied you up and fucked you while slapping you around?” He arches a brow, not buying it.
Blood rushes in my ears at the way he explained someone using my body. How I want. I’ve never had that before. And apart of me is afraid I wouldn’t be able to do it. That I’d cry mercy. Another part of me wants to be gagged so they can’t hear me tell them to stop.
“Yes.” I lift my chin.
He smirks and lets go of me. My arms fall to my sides like dead weight. “Aren’t you full of surprises, doll face.”
NINETEEN
HAIDYN
She’s lying. I don’t think she’s as innocent as she’s acting, but she sure as shit isn’t what she’s leading on to be now.
“I’m not here to talk about me, Haidyn.” It’s her favorite line to say. She always tries to divert my attention from herself to me. “We’re wasting time.” Charlotte pretends to look at her watch. I’ve never paid attention to it until now. It’s a Pave Diamond white gold DateJust—woman’s Rolex. I’ve never guessed if she was part of the Lords world. She was sent to me by them. But now I’m questioning everything about her. I notice she has it high up on her wrist so as not to rub the bruise. “Where would you like to conduct your session for the day?” she asks, pushing the sleeve down to cover them up.
I gesture toward the living room, and she makes her way to the couch. My eyes drop to her black heels and look over the back of her tan legs. I wonder if she lies in a tanning bed, gets a spray tan, or uses a self-tanner. I’ve fucked enough women to know they always have a preference.
She sits down, opens her large Saint Laurent purse, and pulls out a small notebook. It’s not her usual one. I can tell she’s wearing more makeup than usual as well. She did a shitty job atcovering up the situation from yesterday that she doesn’t want me to know about.
I’m still waiting for the information I requested, and until I get it, I have to play along with her game. But I know I’m right. My little doll face isn’t who she’s been pretending to be, and depending on what I’m told will depend on how I handle her.
I mean, I guess she could be telling the truth, and maybe she and some little boy toy were out for a midday drive and got horny and decided to play around. They pulled over, and he chased her into the woods, where he fucked her while the car just sat there waiting for them to return. When you’re in the mood, you’re in the mood. But I’m not buying that either. The way her SUV was left there had too many similarities to what happened all those years ago.
“I want to see your notebook.” She lifts her eyes to meet mine. “The one I gave you to log your sleeping hours.”
