Get married, make a baby, and then everyone is bound together for life. Safe and sound, all squared away.
I want all your firsts, Pink.His voice cuts in. I close my eyes.
So when those things fall into place, that's when my inheritance passes out of Simon's hands.
But it doesn't go to me. It goes to my husband, who is supposed to take care of me. If we ever get divorced, he doesn't have any rights to the money, though, so when Victor and I do tie the knot, it's until death us do part for real. Proper old school stuff.
And I have to produce an heir. I have to be pregnant and married for the terms of the trust to be fulfilled. Otherwise, it stays in the conservatorship, which has limited power.
I still shake my head at my dad. He loved us so much, but he was so old-fashioned. Didn't realize we may have a different version of our lives in mind.
My hand slips under the blanket. Down. I press two fingers where his were a few hours ago and try to make it feel the same.
It doesn't.
He took something with him when he left. The trick of it. The magic. Whatever it is that turns regular touching into the thing he did to me on his desk.
I shiver under the blankets as the grandfather clock chimes in the downstairs parlor. I count the number of chimes. Six o'clock. I haven't slept a wink, and I don't see that changing until I fall over, exhausted, tonight.
Tonight.
It dawns on me that Deck hired me, and I have a job.
I think of all the reasons it doesn't matter, and I've already decided I won't go back. Leah was right. I need to grow up and stop with my crazy schemes.
Besides, what happened with Deck can never happen again. It felt too good. Too right. And I know if I ever see him again, I will never want to come back here. I'll never be able to marry Victor, let alone think of him doing the same things that Deck did to me. Just thinking about Victor touching me like that sends a very different kind of shiver through my body.
You would think that of the two of them, I would be more attracted to Victor. After all, he's closer to my age. And he looks like a slick advertisement in GQ. His helmet of dark hair, never a strand out of place. His cold, dark eyes feel as real as a model in the pages of a magazine.
His hands are small. Smaller than mine, almost. I noticed it the day he put the ring on me.
I should feel lucky. Lucky that someone with those looks would even want to marry someone who looks like me. But I don't. I don't feel lucky at all. I feel sick, and I have to shake away thoughts of Deck's mouth. His fingers. The taste of my orgasm on his kiss.
As I curl into a ball, trying to shake the chill, I think of how other parts of Deck would have tasted if my mouth got to give him what his gave me. Salt, probably. Salt and skin and that sharp, sweet smell he had at his neck. I'd want to taste him slow. Like the way I taste a new recipe — a little, then more, then everything.
And the tears seep out, because I'll never know.
9
Decker
"Well, fucking find a way!" I slam the phone down. Lift it. Slam it again. Slam it until my hand throbs and the cradle splits, then drop my head between my hands.
It's been almost forty-eight hours. Where is she? Is she okay? Did she eat? The questions are eating my brain from the inside.
I called in a few favors with some cops who come in here, trying to figure out who that slick fuck was. The one talking about killing May. Their lack of urgency isn't making it easy.
Part of me still doesn't believe it. Who could look at May and think about killing her? But I'm not taking a fucking chance. I have to know for sure.
"I want to be the best dancer they've ever had."Her voice loops in my head, all bright and sincere. Like she's never once had a person try to hurt her. Like she'd be impossible to kill.
The phone I gave her has a tracker in it. Okay, I lied. I don't give them to all my employees. I had this one in my pocket, andI gave it to her because I wasn't letting her out of my sight, even electronically.
I have a few special phones I give the girls if they're in trouble. Angry boyfriends. Pimps sometimes. Worse.
Over the years, I've taken on a paternal role with some of them, so I keep track of their movements if I think they're in danger. I figured a long time ago I'd never have a family of my own. After watching the shit my mom put up with staying with my dad, plus my own awkwardness around women, I threw myself into helping these girls. The family I was never going to have.
But I didn't think May was in danger when I handed it to her. I just needed to know where she was the second she walked out my door.
