As my eyes adjusted to the gloom, I stared at my sparse surroundings with confusion.Did our apartment get robbed? Crap, is Mom okay? Is she…
Then I remembered. Mom was in her new hospital, getting the best care money could buy. And I was in the attic room at Manderley Academy, about to start my morning duties like a maid of yore. It wasn’t even light outside, and I had to be downstairs to make breakfast and clean the rooms before the day’s lessons began.
I hadn’t heard Dorien or whoever he sent to hide in the storage room again, probably because I buried my face in the pillow and refused to acknowledge their childish stunt. But I’d lain awake for hours, my senses on alert for the next evil trick. The old house creaked and groaned around me – each stirring a fresh wave of nerves, and every gust of wind rattled a windowpane with ill portent.
Now, in the warm light of the morning, I wasn’t afraid. I waspissed as hell.
I pulled on the plain black dress Madame Usher had given me as a maid’s uniform. The wool scratched my skin.She’s laying on this servitude thing a bit thick.The dress was just another of her subtle digs at my status, marking me out as different from the other students, who all wore designer clothing and owned those expensive cars parked outside.
The zipper stuck. I grabbed it and jumped up and down, tugging until it pulled free. The dress was a little tight across my tits, but otherwise, it wasn’t a bad fit. It was pretty unflattering – making me look broad and boxy instead of accentuating the hourglass shape of my hips – but I wasn’t at Manderley to be admired. I was here to play music and get my mom the care she needed.
Speaking of which… I picked up my phone for the hundredth time and checked to see that I hadn’t missed a message from the hospital saying she’d woken up. Nope, the universe wasn’t that kind to me.
Dress on, all I needed was some foundation and a swipe of mascara and I was ready to face the Muses. I shoved open the door to the bathroom.
And screamed.
Scrawled across my mirror in blood-red were the words, LEAVE MANDERLEY.
Chapter Twelve
Titus
Faye’s scream echoed through the mansion. I stared up at the canopy of my bed, red fabric covered in gold stars, and imagined I had the superpower of seeing through solid objects. I peeled away the fabric and ceiling and floorboards in my mind and pictured those feisty eyes wide with terror, her wild hair streaming down her back as she slammed the bathroom door.
My cock stirred, and I wrapped my fingers around it. I closed my eyes. I imagined she was screaming my name.
Faye de Winter.
Everything about her intrigued me. And I haven’t been intrigued in a long time. Manderley bored me to death – the crusty old furniture, the dull compositions, the endless hours of practicing the same pieces over and over again. I longed to be back on the road – a new city every night, a new girl in my bed, the applause of the audience washing over me, drowning my veins in pulsing, exhilaratinglife.
Instead, I was trapped here, miles from anything interesting. The only thing to entertain me was Dorien’s vendetta against the new girl. When Faye walked into the dining room carrying those trays, I saw something in her eyes I recognized – a wild animal trapped behind bars. She was so much more than her bedraggled clothes and mediocre performance let on. She was more than the ghost from Dorien’s past, and if he took his head out of his ass for a second, he’d be able to see it, too.
Not that I wanted him to see it. I wanted Faye for myself.
My hand moved faster, and my cock jerked. Upstairs, someone stomped across the attic floorboards. I pictured Faye as I’d seen her last night while I hovered in her doorway, the key tucked in my hand, waiting for Heather to finish in her bathroom. Moonlight streaked across the bed from the open window, dancing shadows across her serene features. Raven hair fanned out across her pillow, falling like ripples of a silken river over the duvet. Looking down at her stirred something inside me – a mixture of fascination, desire, and repulsion at myself. My parents always warned me Dorien was a bad influence, and now here I was, sneaking into a girl’s room and watching her sleep like a stalker creep.
I thought about shaking the ankle that peeked out from beneath the sheets. I wanted Faye to wake up, to see us in her room, to scream and rage and wake up the whole house. At least it would shake the cobwebs out of this place.
I wanted her to throw herself at me, to feel her warm skin against mine as her fists pummeled me or her lips devoured me. Either option worked for me, although my cock much preferred the latter.
Instead, I had turned and followed Heather outside. We locked Faye’s door behind us and returned to our rooms.
And now I was wanking while Faye freaked out over the message we left in her locked room.
I’m a fucking horrible person.
My breath came out in quick gasps as I pumped harder.Fuck, fuck, fuck. This is sick. It’s disgusting. But it’s as close as I’ll ever get to Faye de Winter.
I was forbidden to speak to her. Dorien’s orders. That dude had been there for me more times than I could count. I didn’t like to play by the rules, but this was one that I had to obey.
My body dropped back to reality. My cock softened in my hand as the vision of Faye faded from my mind, replaced by something equally beguiling but even more dangerous.
The secret hidden under my bed. The reason I couldn’t get close to Faye de Winter. The shame that would eat me alive even as my soul petrified in this house.
The addiction I couldn’t shake.
Chapter Thirteen
