VtheMan:Threads. I’m warning you. You’re not happy. I sense it. I’m worried shitless and Tex is being a secretive arsehole. Call me immediately, sister. Or I’ll make your life a living hell.
VtheMan:Please, Nila. Talk to me. Put me out of my misery. I miss you. Love you so fucking much.
My teary gasp in the darkness pricked a few hounds’ ears. I’d wanted so much to reply. But I didn’t dare. I didn’t trust myself not to beg him to get me out of this. I was there of my own free will toprotecthim. I wouldn’t be protecting him if I was weak.
I wanted hard facts on why the Hawks’ could do this. And I wouldn’t stop until I knew everything.
Closing my messages, I opened up a picture of Vaughn and me that’d been taken right before the doors opened to the show last night. The tiny bit of strength I had left deserted me and I let go of my tight control.
I sobbed.
My heart expunged its grief through my eyes, drenching my cheeks, blurring the last photo I had of my brother . I cried until dehydration throbbed my head and my neck was sticky with salt.
A low battery reminder beeped. It was the hardest thing I’d done to shut down the picture of V and turn it off.
More tears trickled and a hound raised his head, looking at me with wise understanding. He inched forward on his belly, crossing the hay until his claws tugged at my blanket.
His canine concern produced another torrent, but I opened my arms, and with a wagging tail, he fitted himself around me like a living shield. His doggy heart thudded against mine as I hugged his silky coat.
I went from the Darling of Milan with needle pricks on her fingers to huddled on the floor with only hunting dogs for company.
A soppy tongue had licked my cheek, stealing the endless stream. And that was when it happened. The change I’d told Kite about. The ending. The beginning. The freedom of just letting go.
All my life, I’d been stressed with making a name for myself, building my career, loving my brother, being a worthy daughter. Bills. Deadlines. Reputations.Expectations.It all balanced precariously on my shoulders, moulding me into a quiet workaholic.
But at four a.m., in the kennels of the man who meant to kill me, I let it all go.
I said goodbye to control. I waved farewell to everything that made me live, but had also suffocated me, too. I didn’t have photo shoots to worry about anymore. I didn’t have concerns on what to wear, where to be, how to act.
All of that had been stolen. And there was no point crying or fighting against it.
The moment I embraced the freedom of nothing, I stopped crying. My headache left, and I drifted to sleep wrapped in the four legs of my new best friend.
Squirrel nudged my hand, bringing me back to the present and the waiting message from Kite. The past struggled to let me go, but I blinked, dispelling my forlornness.
“He wants to know where I am. What should I tell him?” I asked my entourage of hounds.
Foxhounds to be exact. Their black, tan, and white coats became visible as the sun rose, glinting off their glossy fur. Their silky ears slapped their pretty heads as they lopped around the enclosure, waking up as the sun grew brighter.
They didn’t give me an answer.
Needle&Thread:Where I am right now doesn’t matter because I’m in a fantasy with you. I’m in your bed. Naked.
It was much better than the truth. I focused on the huge roller door. I’d checked last night to see if there was a way out, but of course, there wasn’t.
Kite007:You took a while to reply. Did you pleasure yourself?
Throwing myself back into Kite’s sexual world, I replied.
Needle&Thread:I’m coming now. Both hands are between my legs, feeling how wet I am. I’m crying out your name over and over. The neighbours might hear me I’m so loud.
“Don’t tell him I released my tension by crying myself to sleepwith you in my arms.” Rubbing the head of Squirrel, I smiled. “And don’t tell him I’ve never had an orgasm.”
The dog cocked his head, an expression of confusion on his face.
Kite007:I like it when you talk dirty. Keep going. I have my cock in my hand and want you to make me come.
My heart sped up. Reclining against the hay bale, I bit my lip. I’d never made anyone come. The drunken night of losing my virginity didn’t count because we were both so intoxicated it was a miracle he found the right place to stick it in. After a few half-hearted thrusts, he’d rolled off me to throw up, and I’d pulled up my knickers. I’d been silently horrified at the blood on the sheets.
