Page 21 of Consume Me

“What does that mean?” I asked icily.

“You’re a dominant. You may need to consider whether—”

“I’m not interested,” I cut her off. I wouldn’t touch another woman in any capacity.

“I’m not offering,” Georgia clarified. “I know you and Clara have submission all twisted up with love, but you need to consider how to keep your head clear. You need to be able to think. If that means—”

“Now isn’t the time for whips,” I spat out.

“It’s probably the perfect time,” she disagreed.

“I don’t want to punish someone,” I roared. How could she not see that? “I want to be punished. I want to carry her pain, because I know she’s in it. I want to bear this burden.”

Georgia arched a dark eyebrow. “Then hand someone else the whip.”

“I thought you weren’t offering.” I shook my head. “I’m not interesting. Judge my marriage all you want.”

“I’m not judging your marriage,” she said harshly. “I’m pointing out that there’s a way to clear your head and you may need to consider that option.”

“And let me be clear, it’s not an option.” I couldn’t believe she was suggesting it.

“Smith could do it,” she said, ignoring me. “He knows how to separate the two. If you need punishment—if you need to step outside yourself for a moment.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I wasn’t about to hand anyone control over me. No matter what she thought. Even if part of me missed the vibration of a whip against my palm. Even if part of me wanted to feel its sting against my back. And the last person I would ever hand control was Smith. I respected him, but I would never bow before him. Just as no one would bow before me.

There was only one soul I knelt before, and only she could free me from this hell.

Georgia and I were both wrong. I didn’t need to seek punishment. I was being punished already.

“You slept.” Smith noted. He sounded oddly pleased, as if he’d been worried.

I nodded, dismissing his relief. It didn’t matter that it was in a chair in my office. What mattered was that I’d wasted time. I could buy anything but that. “Don’t remind me.”

“You have to sleep,” he said. Had he talked with Georgia? Were the two of them going to continue to mother me?

“I have to find her.” Why was everyone else so focused on things that didn’t involve bringing Clara home? She was the only thing I truly needed.

Smith didn’t pursue the argument I was angling for. Instead, he shrugged. “Are you sure about this?”

I nodded again, relieved to be back on track. We’d decided the next logical course was to speak to Oliver Jacobson. Whatever this contingency was, he knew about it. We were all certain of that. He’d been a key component in too many family tragedies and he’d made his threat clear before: he’d destroy my family from within. What better way to upset the game than to steal the Queen?

Plus, since our only lead on MI-18 was missing. It was the most we had to go on. Maybe he could lead us to them.

Maybe he could lead us to her.

Something deep within me told me that Jacobson had played his part. I’d once believed he was the one pulling the strings, now I saw the ones attached to him.

We came upon Edward in the hall. He looked like it was any other day of the week—his curly hair tamed and tucked behind his ears, his navy suit pressed with crisp lines. But I saw beyond that to the circles rimming his eyes and the hollow defeat reflected there. He wasn’t sleeping either.

“What are you doing here?” I asked him, sounding more accusatory then I meant to. It was my call to ask him to stay away. I wanted to protect him from this, but there was no way to shield him from the pain of losing his best friend.

“Press conference,” he said flatly. He whipped his glasses off and inspected the lenses. “I wanted to avoid it, but we need to make a statement about Mary. It’s been two days.”

“I should handle that.” I’d let it fall through the cracks. What would it look like if I was absent from this? Especially if the doctors continued their investigations into the drugs my grandmother had been taking? It was my responsibility to be the face of this family, but I’d yoked my brother with that burden.

“I’ve taken care of that,” he explained. “We’re announcing that Clara has been placed on bed rest. I’ve spoken with her doctor and explained that the Queen needs rest.”

I let this news sink in. He’d taken care of everything. He’d stepped in and taken control of my responsibilities.