He wasn’t a savior to the rich and stupid because he’d dreamed about it as a little boy. This was how he punished himself because he truly believed he wasn’t worthy of anyone. The system that should’ve protected him never did, and he’d been lost in the shuffle, never finding a place where he fit. He believed doing the things others didn’t want to do was his way of giving back to those who’d wronged him. The law had never been there for him, so he saw no reason to abide by it. On some levels, I understood his way of thinking.
We all had ghosts that haunted us, and no one made it through this life without some scars. Some were just deeper than others.
9
Laikyn
Living with a man I didn’t knowwas crazy.
Living with two men was weird.
That one of them was legally my husband … well, that made it bizarre.
Then again, that was the word I used to describe pretty much every aspect of the past two weeks. Sixteen full days of being married, and nearly every one I’d spent alone, only my thoughts and a sweet dog to keep me company.
I wish I could complain, but to be fair, I liked being alone. It didn’t happen often. I hadn’t felt quite this free in … well, probably not ever. It helped that I’d been avoiding my mother as well. I’d spent my days in the house while Rule and Jinx went out and did whatever the hell it was that they did. Some days, they were gone before I woke up and home after I’d called it a night. Others, they would linger a little longer in the mornings.
I wouldn’t go so far as to say we’d engaged in much conversation. Since it usually entailed me provoking one or both of them and finding a way to shift to the topic of sex, they were letting me dig my own hole. Problem was, when I wasn’t taunting Rule about sex, I wasn’t sure what to say to him. I hadn’t seen his other friends/employees since our wedding day. I hadn’t met anyone else either.
When I got bored, I watched television. When I gotreallybored, I did internet searches.
Imagine my surprise when I learned that Rule wasn’t as much of a ghost on the internet as he seemed to be in real life. In fact, he was famous. Or maybeinfamouswas a better word. On social media, he was portrayed as a unicorn—some sort of mythical creature with incredible abilities. People actually wanted tobehim.
Granted, the Feds weren’t quite as enamored by him as the public. The FBI seemed to believe he was responsible for a lot, but they didn’t have solid proof of any particular crime. Everything was circumstantial. But they had enough interest to take note. Especially when the media—who referred to him as the Hollywood Fixer—caught wind of his association with various people. I had to wonder whether Rule was aware that he likely had a shadow or two when he was out and about.
Since he didn’t seem to be worried, I just absorbed what I found and moved on.
When I was seeking conversation, I spent it texting people. Most of the time, Jinx was my target because he would respond. Unless I talked about sex, then he ignored me. I figured he was respecting Rule and the fact that I was his wife. In my defense, I wasn’t necessarily coming on to Jinx. I mean, I was, but I was doing it to get a rise out of Rule.
Mostly.
I’d seen the way Rule looked at me, and he could pretend all day long that he didn’t want to fuck me, but it would be a lie. As for why he refused … well, I’d come up with a million possible scenarios: he was a eunuch; he had a disease; he couldn’t get it up; he preferred his hand. Sure, they were ludicrous, but when you gave a girl an unlimited amount of time, what else was she supposed to do but come up with crazy reasons a man didn’t want to fuck her? I mean, it would’ve been too easy to say he simply wasn’t attracted to me in that way.
And maybe he wasn’t. It was possible I’d imagined those heated stares. Possible but doubtful.
However, I didn’t spend all my time tormenting Jinx. I had blocked Wes’s number, but he got creative and sent a text from someone else’s phone. He started the thread by pleading for my forgiveness and ended with him spilling his guts through a litany of words and emojis. According to him, he’d been hesitant to date me at first, convinced we had nothing in common. Then we went out a few times, and he liked hanging out, doing things together. At the beginning of the rant, he said it wasn’t about Chastity, but by the end, he admitted he still loved her and probably always would, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to try. He didn’t outright say I would always be second, but that was the gist of it.
I played along for almost half a day, replying with mundane emojis to make it look like I gave a shit. I didn’t, but it was a way to pass the time.
But the moment he told me he loved me, I had to put an end to it. I assumed it was Chastity’s number, so I point-blank told him I wouldn’t play second fiddle to a woman who used men for her own gain. Then I blocked that number, too. If she saw it, I would never know.
I was sure someone would consider my actions inappropriate, but I didn’t give a shit. No, Wes wasn’t someone I would’ve spent much time with after we had sex the first time (unless he was a god in bed, though I didn’t have high hopes), but he had still fucked up. Taking his drunk ex-girlfriend back to his place while I left in an Uber was the equivalent of a bitch slap, and admittedly, it stung a little.
The only other person I talked to was my mother, and that was via text message also. She wasn’t as good at manipulating me that way, so I opted for that means of communication versus a phone call. She told me she was worried about me and reminded me that a fundraiser was coming up soon, and I’d promised I would be there. I assured her I was okay and informed her I would need to think about the fundraiser. I was no longer certain my calendar was free. Yes, a blatant lie, but who cared? It seemed only fair.
I didn’t want to feel sorry for her, although I probably would, even though I was angry and hurt. I had put off my conversation with Rule for the time being because I didn’t need him to spell it out for me, and as long as he didn’t, I could pretend he was wrong.
As for my mother, she was acting as though nothing had happened—no sexcapades gone wrong, no daughter moving out, nothing—giddily going on about an upcoming project she’d been approached about. Evidently, her agent had called to tell her about the perfect part, and, as usual, nothing else mattered. For the record, every part was perfect for her until she read the script. At that point, she would either feign disinterest to see what she could get out of the role or whine that she was too strong an actress to play such a mediocre part.
My mother was right about one thing. She was a strong actress. She was brilliant when it came to pretending she was someone else, both professionally and in her everyday life. And she only improved over time.
As for my relationship with Rule … well, there wasn’t one. Unless you counted my increased attempts to seduce him. I guess it probably wasn’t really seduction, but I was going out of my way to ensure he felt some discomfort. It seemed only fair since I did every time I was in the same room with him. He pretended he wasn’t affected by me, but he was. The man had mastered the art of masking his expressions, but he was screwed by biology. His jeans constantly showed an impressive bulge after little time in my presence. That didn’t makemycomfort level any better because the thought of what he could do with his cock… I was starting to fantasize.
The sound of the front door had me reining in my thoughts before they could take a taboo turn. I glanced over my shoulder as Rule and Jinx were coming into the kitchen.
“Hey,” I said cheerfully, waving from my spot on the outdoor sofa. “Do you have any double A batteries? The ones in my vibrator died this morning.”
It wasn’t true, but I was on a mission, and I took every opportunity to get one in.
