“I’m just telling you the truth, Babygirl,” he said nonchalantly.
“Don’t call me that,” I warned.
“Why not? Are you mad?” He provoked me with a smile, well aware that I was enraged.
I hated it when he thought his charm was enough to pacify me or when he talked to me in that oh-so-delighted tone, smug over having hurt me.
Was it another one of his kinks, needing to treat women with such condescension?
Was this too about Kimberly? I feared that it was.
Neil was a man who, since his early childhood, had been inculcated with a very negative, distorted view of women as a whole.
“What are you trying to prove? Why did you even ask me to come to New York?” I demanded, disappointed. Maybe this was all just a game for Neil. I now knew about the trauma he’d experienced, but that didn’t excuse the constant disrespect he showed me. Yes, I had promised to accept him and not to judge him, but I couldn’t allow him to keep treating me like a doormat.
“You’ll understand why tomorrow, not tonight,” he answered, growing gloomy and impenetrable again. “And we’ll see if you want to stick with that being with me and accepting me thing…” he went on, and suddenly the thought occurred to me that maybe he was going to try to drag me into one of his little performances, like on Halloween when he cooked up that insane game with Jennifer to intimidate me and get me to leave town.
“You’re nuts. I’m going to stay in a hotel.” I grabbed my coat and put it on again, moving toward the door. Before I got there, however, Neil took me by the wrist and pulled me to him.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he told me, his eyes boring into mine.
And there he went, imposing himself again, like he felt real fear at the prospect of someone not doing what he’d ordered them to do. Maybe Neil had that strange habit of always refusing to bend to anyone else’s will because he’d been forced to do too much of that when he was little?
Though I wanted to yell and rage at him, logic told me that there was a why behind his every attitude and that all of it, without fail, came back to the babysitter.
“Oh yeah? And who made that decision?” I pressed, breathing in his good smell of shower gel mixed with aftershave. It was a very nice smell, but I wasn’t going to let it lead me astray.
“Me. You’re staying until tomorrow,” he said as though this had been decided upon, despite the fact that he’d never even asked me and I was visibly unhappy.
“You’ve got some nerve…” I answered with a shake of my head, and he grinned at me.
What the hell did he have to smile about?
“Maybe so, but you like my nerve.” He tightened his hold around my arms, pulling me closer to him until his hard chest pressed against mine. My body reacted immediately to his touch. “Do you deny it?” he asked softly as he pressed his erection, stiff and ready, into my pelvis. He was showing me that he wanted a different sort of attention and that his mind had gone off in a completely different direction than mine. But I ignored his question; I had no desire to confirm just how much I liked him, even when he was being all rude and outlandish like that.
“I thought you didn’t like my dress,” I said in a spiteful mutter. Hehadinsulted me. I hadn’t hallucinated it.
“I told you I thought you were hot. Don’t you know what that means in man language? Or should I show you?” He talked to me like I was immature, fickle, and inexperienced and couldn’t hope to get the better of someone like him.
“I get it; it’s not subtle,” I answered pertly, feeling the tense way he held his body and how his hard member still pressed into me. “You should apologize to me,” I continued.
“I’m never going to do that. You knew what I was like from the start.” He released me and passed a hand through his hair in frustration. He looked like he wanted to jump me but was restraining the impulse. And a thought occurred to me.Maybe this is all a test? Maybe he is trying to see what I will endure for him?
“We’d better go.” I pushed past it and ended the conversation, knowing that it wouldn’t have changed anything anyway.
* * *
About a quarter of an hour later, we arrived at Chandelier, the club where we were meeting the Krew.
On the trip over, Neil and I had completely ignored each other. I was still mad about what he’d said, while he, on the other hand, seemed lost in his own twisted thoughts. He’d smoked in the car again without the least consideration for my presence, and when he turned on the radio, it was to play a song by his favorite band. The first notes of “Nervous” had floated out into the interior of the car, the lyrics seeming to mock me.
After Neil parked, we got out and went straight to the entrance of the club, bypassing the long line of people waiting to get inside. Apparently, Neil was familiar with the musclebound bouncer. All he had to do was say hello, and the guy let us in without any problem. Inside, the music was so loud it rendered me stunned, while the colored lights dazzled my eyes and the crush of people made it hard to breathe. Someone bumped into me out of nowhere, and I stumbled, but the walking Disaster I was with just kept going, not even bothering to check if I was following along behind him.
“Try not to get lost,” he yelled over the music when he finally turned around to check on me. I automatically reached out for his hand, and the gesture made him glare at me. I could see right away from the look on his face that he wasn’t pleased with my taking the initiative like that, and he stared at me in confusion.
“I can keep track of you better this way,” I said into his ear, and after a brief hesitation, he sighed and entwined his fingers with mine. He gave them a firm squeeze before continuing to walk, pulling me along with him. My heart rate accelerated at the heat of his palm on mine, and I began to sweat.
I thought about how anyone watching us probably thought we were some happy couple holding hands, but in reality, we were nothing of the sort. However, I didn’t want to ruin the mood with my paranoia, so instead of turning myself inside out over how I was being perceived, I decided to take a look around and get a better sense for what kind of club I’d woundup in. There was a DJ spinning a series of earth-shaking electronica tracks, numerous tall tables occupied by groups of men and women of all ages, and a series of black sofas arranged around the edge of the room. The dominating color scheme was black and deep scarlet, real hellfire vibes. A perfect place for the Krew.
