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I don't consider myself a nervous man. Today, I am though. Maybe it's the fact that my last encounter with Hugh was at the charity event when my whole life unraveled before me. Perhaps it's because he stole my happiness with Blakely and he knows it. There's nothing I can say to even try to deny it.
Then again, I thought I would be elated, knowing I've taken him down. But with my wife not by my side, it just doesn't feel how I thought it would. It feels hollow.
The more time that passes with me not seeing Blakely, the harder it's gotten to stay away from her. And I know I'm only a few steps away from breaking.
Since Detroit, our communication's been limited to text messages, and they're strained. Every conversation ends with me asking her if she's ready to live up to the vow she gave me on our wedding day. But she always goes around the question, telling me she loves me and misses me, but she never answers affirmatively.
And whenever I'm in contact with Kalim over her security, I want to order him to bring her to my place as soon as the plane lands. But I never do.
And I force myself to not get on a plane and to go to her concerts. Every night that she's not in L.A., my struggles haunt me. I imagine her on stage with all the fans and all the different scenarios of things that could happen to her. I'm not naive. I know the majority of the population will want a piece of her now that she's famous. Hell, they wanted a piece of her before she was, and it's surely only gotten worse.
And my love-hate relationship with Colton is another complicated battle.
He went behind Noah's back. Soon after their first concert, he announced on his social media that Blakely was taking the spot for the former musician who opened his concerts. The fans went crazy, and so did Noah.
Part of me is satisfied that Colton got one over on him. The other is angry. I don't want my pet out of L.A. all the time, even though it's good for her career. If she would invite me to go with her again, I'd be happy. Yet every time I schedule her security with Kalim and have to stay in L.A., it cuts me deeper.
So I'm trying not to be bitter about it because I want her to succeed. I know how hard she's worked, and she deserves it. Yet the selfish part of me wants her as close to me as possible.
I can't deny I love seeing Noah pissed. He couldn't fight it after the fans applauded Colton's announcement so loudly. He warned Colton to never go behind his back again but couldn't do much more about it. The few concerts that had yet to release tickets sold out faster than ever. So Noah had to shut up and drop it.
Besides the constant updates that I make Kalim give me and the media posts I see about her, I'm out of the picture. Nothing ever felt so lonely or miserable.
Yet until she tells me that she meant the vow she made to me, I can't do anything about it. I've given strict instructions to Kalim not to leave Blakely in a room with Noah by herself. And he's assured me he won't. But I hate that Noah's with her and I'm not. He got to stay in her life, but I got pushed out, not by him but by my wife. So it stings.
I've tried to throw myself into my work like I have in the past when things were off in my personal life. No matter how hard I try, it's not working.
Today I've got to focus on work. I need to transfer Hugh's shares over to me. I should have done it a month ago, but the issues with Blakely have me off my game.
All the money he stole from the client accounts has now been returned. It includes the deficit from what he spent over the years. That came out of my pocket. I took the hit on it and made everything whole.
Our clients nor the SEC know anything about this situation, which is what I wanted. But it doesn't give me the satisfaction I thought it would when I took him down.
So the days are long, stretching out as if they'll never end. And I miss everything about being with Blakely. I can't even go to the beach house. I tried once. I went there, and I could only stay ten minutes. I kept looking at the Heintzman & Co crystal piano, feeling like my heart would explode. It was all too much.
Visions of Blakely playing for hours, singing while her fingers seamlessly worked the keys, or me fucking her on top of it never left my mind. Her pleading cries echoed throughout the house, haunting me, reminding me of everything I'd lost and everything we were. Then I began to question how maybe none of it was even real. How could it be if she couldn't hold up her vow?
So I left almost as soon as I arrived, unable to stand it, struggling more than before.
To add to my woes, the L.A. apartment's closing in on me. I miss surfing on my beach, getting glimpses of my pet on the sand with her blonde hair blowing in the breeze, or on the deck, sipping her coffee and watching me fight the waves. The public beach I now attend is crowded, and there's no image of Blakely anywhere.
Before she came into my life, all the activities I used to do to stay entertained while in L.A. involved playtime. I'd frequent Club Indulgence or go to Apartment Thirteen to break in a new sub. Neither of those things are options anymore, but the need to dominate hasn't gone away. If anything, it's festering, dancing on the surface of all my thoughts, and making my skin crawl with renewed craziness.
It would be easy to go into Club Indulgence and pick a sub, but none would be Blakely. And my wife's the only person I'm craving to submit to me.
When Blakely's gone touring, I often find myself in Apartment Thirteen, staring at the St. Andrew's Cross. All I remember is how my pet's curves gleamed while restrained to it and how her face morphed between innocence, determination, and anger. A few times, I stayed the night, sleeping on her side of the bed, breathing in her scent that lingered on the pillow. So while every moment in Apartment Thirteen tortures me, I can't stop myself from going.
Connie knocks on my office door, tearing me out of my thoughts. She calls out, "Riggs?"
I glance up. Anxiety riddles her expression. "Hugh's in the conference room with your attorney," she informs me.
"Is Benny there watching him?"
She nods. "Yes."
"Good," I state, knowing it'll anger him further to know he doesn't have any reign over our office.
She hesitates a moment, then leaves. I wait a half hour longer to piss him off more, even though my attorney's on the clock. I stare out the window and into the chaotic city, wondering what my pet's thinking. And I can't stop myself and pull out my phone and text her.
