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“Martin,” he said into his phone while narrowing his gaze at me.
He suspected I didn’t take everything he gave me, and he was right. I’d already spit this one out and tucked it under the rug.
“Yeah, same drop-off.” He tilted his head, listening to whatever his contact was saying. “Same amount we agreed upon. I’m not paying more until I see how this shipment sells.”
Ending the call, he tucked his phone back in his pocket and crooked his fingers at me. He’d noticed I’d moved away.
Dropping my gaze, I returned to his side. He patted his knee, and knowing the drill, I laid my cheek on his thigh like a dog. He stroked my unbound hair. Unsurprisingly, his touch didn’t soothe me, but I pretended it did. I wasn’t sure what effect that pill was supposed to have on me, but as in most things, I took my cues from him.
“We’re going to my parents’ house tonight for dinner,” he said.
“Okay.”
Something like hope, but not as bright, flickered inside my chest. His parents weren’t my allies, but he seldom let me out of the apartment. There were no opportunities to escape within its walls.
“Wear the dress you had on the first night we made love.”
My response to that command was to curl my fingers into fists. We’d never made love. With every fiber of my being, I denied it. We had sex. What we did nearly every night after that first one, I didn’t know what to call it. Only that it made me feel ashamed.
But I didn’t say anything to correct him, nor did I reveal my response to knowing we were going to his parents’ house. We’d gone there before. Seeing Martin interact with his dad explained a lot.
Back when I had pride, I used to resent being paraded around in front of his parents and others. That was long gone, in unrecognizable tatters like the rest of me.
“Okay.”
“Okay, what?” He removed his hands from my head, but I felt the muscles of his thigh tense. He was going to discipline me. He’d expected the pill would make me pliable.
“Okay, my darling,” I said low.
“Good girl.” He resumed stroking my hair. “If you please me tonight with my parents, I might give you an update on your sister.”
Martin had kept me sequestered from the rest of the world, and I hadn’t had an update about Rachel in months. My heart quivered with excitement, the pieces of it that continued to function after so many mistakes.
First Collin, then Martin, after the damage they’d done to my heart, there wasn’t much left of it. But what was left cared about two things—protecting my sister and Barry. They didn’t know about Martin’s threats or what I’d endured for them. They didn’t know the only value my life had was in relation to them.
I had only one other priority, the life inside me, but that was a secret only I knew.
“That dress is too large for you,” Martin said as he helped me out of the town car. When we were at his parents’ house, he pretended he cared, and I was expected to do the same. “You should have told me. I would have suggested another.”
“I didn’t realize until I put it on.” I hadn’t wanted to put his dress on until the last minute. The short black dress with the spaghetti straps and mesh skirt was a reminder of a decision I wish I’d never made. Trying to be free, I’d become trapped instead.
“Well, it will have to do.” He pressed his cool lips to my cheek, being sweet for show. His parents were on the front steps, watching us after all.
Grace, his mother, looked like she was ready to host a soiree instead of just a family dinner, wearing glittering rubies with her red satin wrap dress. She had a black cashmere stole around her shoulders like mine. It was fall. I’d watched the seasons change from the windows of the penthouse. Outside, I could feel the change in temperature. It chilled my skin like the man beside me did.
“Do you still insist upon being carted around in that old Lincoln?” Martin Winston Skellin Senior glanced at the vehicle and wrinkled his patrician nose.
“Yes, Father,” Martin said in a similar haughty tone. “It’s functional and paid for.”
Though Martin seemed to want to be his own man, put side by side, father and son were basically carbon copies of each other. Both wore tailored suits that fit their muscular frames. Both the older man and his son styled their thick black hair the same, and both had cold, watchful eyes. The only difference I could see between them besides age were the pinstripes Martin favored on his suits.
“Though Winston’s is doing well, despite your misgivings, I’m careful where I spend my money.”
“Easy to be careful when you live in lodging I built that is paid for.” Winston peered down his nose at his son and let out a derisive sniff. “That club is nothing to be proud of. No one even knows about it outside of that godforsaken section of town.”
“Southside has its opportunities.” Irritated as usual by his father’s refusal to acknowledge his achievements, Martin clenched his jaw.
“It has little to recommend it.” His father glanced at me, his insinuation all too clear before he returned his gaze to his son. “If you had gone to law school and joined my company, you would have developments named after you by now, like the Skellin waterfront tower where you live.”
