AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Less chatting, more breaking free.” I sit cross-legged next to her, eyes on my stopwatch. I intentionally do not look at the brown bag lunch Charlie packed me that sits on the bench across the room. Definitely not noticing how he used a heart instead of an “a” when he wrote my name on it. “The point is to get faster, not more casual about this.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Violet mutters under her breath as she slips off her bracelet that’s actually a cord made of extremely strong fiber. She toes off her shoe, loops the cord around her big toe, grabs the other end with her teeth, and proceeds to saw through her binding. A moment later the plastic snaps.
“Ta da!” Violet returns her deceptively useful jewelry to her wrist.
“Good. Next time you’re going to do it blindfolded.”
She puffs out a sigh as if exasperated with my lessons. I know her pouting is all an act, rising from the dramatic part of her personality. Violet is the one who hired me. Our phone call from a few months back sits clear in my memory.
“My brother has a security guard living up my ass.” I’d heard the annoyance in every bitten word. “And not in a sexy way. He thinks this guy is some cyborg superman who will defend me from all evil. But I won’t put all my eggs in his terminator basket. I need to be able to save myself.”
Said security guard lingers along the wall, leaning back against the cement like he’s the most important support beam in the place. Manuel’s face is a blank mask, scanning the private gym I’ve booked for our session as if he expects gang members to jump out of every nook any second.
Not that I fault him for his level of alert. Better to be overly watchful than slacking off in his line of business.
Still, I don’t miss the way his attention inevitably comes back to Violet, tracing over her form.
Is he checking after her well-being with that full-body scan? Or could that be a spark of longing?
Even as I try stifling my curiosity, I wonder if Manuel volunteered for this position. I guess unrequited love could be an added motivator to keeping your charge safe.
If anyone threatened Charlie, I’d dig their still-beating heart from their chest.
Not that I love the man or anything.
Shaking off an uncomfortable zing of energy, I stand and move over to my bag, pulling out a bandana.
“Kinky.” Violet grins as I cover her eyes and knot the fabric behind her head, careful not to tangle her sea-foam curls in the knot. “Do you and Charlie use this in the bedroom?”
Would I trust him to blindfold me?
Stop thinking about sex with your fake husband!
I blame Violet.
“You know,” I say, “I think you’re ready for hands behind your back too.”
She lets out a squeak of affront as I move to reband her hands. She starts testing the bonds the second I let go.
But her task still doesn’t detract her prying questions.
“So am I you or Charlie right now? Who’s the dom?”
Giving into an evil urge, I glance over at Manuel, who is resolutely not watching his trussed-up client.
“Hey, Manuel!” I wave him over. “Let’s make this closer to the real deal. Why don’t you give our favorite singer a turn around the room? Maybe a few spins?”
The guy presses his lips together, but I’m almost certain I see a twitch at the corner of his mouth. He moves toward us in ground-eating strides, then scoops Violet off the ground to sling her in a fireman’s carry over his shoulder. She squawks an inelegant sound I’m sure she’d never allow out of her mouth onstage.
Manuel glances at me, one brow curved in question.
“Just a few circuits. An abrupt turn or two. Something she’d deal with if a kidnapper was moving her.”
At that, any minuscule glimmer of humor ices out of his face.
I think if any person were to damage a single molecule of Violet Bluefield’s body, Manuel would take the incident personally and begin a lifelong vendetta. She’s the puppy to his John Wick.
Not a bad person to have on your side.
