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My chest grew tight and uncomfortable.
It didn’t matter where I went, I didn’t belong. I’d been trying so hard to learn—to do better—but despite all the effort Jack, Minnow, Severin, and Rodrigo had put into me, I was still a fucking weirdo. I didn’t understand how people worked.
I walked away and left them to their dinner, ignoring the urge to do something petulant and childish, like pose as their waiter and see how long it took for them to notice me. The potential scene I could make played out through my head, but the entertainment value of doing it fell flat.
Everyone knew my head didn’t work right, but I’d hoped that maybe these two might see past that and like me anyway. Maybe they wouldn’t love me as intensely as Severin was loved, but I would give anything to get even a small scrap of that.
The wind changed, and fat droplets of rain slapped my face, reminding me of my leaky kennel on days when it stormed. Cold, wet, and bored…and so fucking lonely. I hadn’t had a word for feeling lonely until Jack explained it. Tonight, I was melancholy. I often painted that word. I felt that word for at least part of every day, until Valor and Tarryn had chosen me from the crowd because I had a pretty face.
I felt myself reaching for the old, comforting belief that I wasn’t real and none of this was happening, but Jack had warned me to stop doing that.
Sadly, it seemed Tarryn and Valor had figured out I was a stupid, horrible boy, and they didn’t want me anymore.
I squelched the twenty or so minutes back to their hotel. Once indoors, I strolled past distracted workers who seemed not to notice the man dripping on their floor and let myself into their suite again. In their bathroom, I stripped out of my wet things and dried off, hanging my clothing over the shower curtain rod. I dressed in a pair of Valor’s sleep pants, wishing I could enjoy the feel of wearing clothing that belonged to him. But…
They didn’t want me here. They’d kept this a secret so I wouldn’t bother them.
Stupid, stupid boy.
I felt Martine sitting in the corner, in the wing-backed chair, cynical mouth twisted in cruel amusement. I felt her nails on my skin—the belt on my cheek. I scratched at my arm until it bled, looking for any hint of wrongness underneath. As ever, there was nothing except blood, which suggested I was real and not a thing she’d fabricated for her amusement. Usually, the pain was good. It grounded me. Tonight, it didn’t help.
If I wasn’t real, it would make sense that I wasn’t normal and that no one gave a shit about me. But if I was a human being…
If I was a human being, and I had been bornwrong, could someone fix it?
I dried my phone, surprised it was still working, and contemplated calling Jack again, but they had sounded sleepy and troubled, and I didn’t need them to tell me again that coming here had been a bad decision. What had Jack said? That by staying here, I was only hurting my own feelings?
Did Loïc have feelings? He felt strange and far away.
I prodded at my chest, feeling my heartbeat under my fingers. Maybe my heartbeat was my imagination. Maybe it was a motor that kept everything running instead—a clockwork organ.
Martine cackled to herself, swirling her wine, amused at how stupid I was. It was difficult to be angry at her when she was right.
The rumble of Valor’s voice made my head snap up. I crossed the suite to the bedroom closet and went in, crouching low. As soon as I closed the closet door, the external door clicked open.
Tarryn laughed as they entered the suite. “And then what did he do?”
Valor’s laughter died away. “He left me a miniature painting.”
“Another one?”
They were talking about me?
I put my hands over my ears, not wanting to hear him make fun of the gifts I left him, like a lovestruck teenager. My attempts at affection were clumsy. Pathetic.
Their conversation kept going, but I couldn’t make out all the words. Had he said I was talented?
Through the louvers in the closet door, I watched as they entered the bedroom. My every breath shook on the exhalation, and I uncovered my ears to see if the sound was as loud outside my head.
“Should we watch a movie?” Tarryn asked, her tone…what? Mocking?
“Did you think I’d forget on the cab ride back?” He was on her immediately, stripping off her lovely dress, silencing her cries of surprise and passion with his mouth. I could see some of what was happening through the door slats, but it was fleeting impressions and partial views rather than the entire scene—more licentious because I couldn’t see everything.
Watching them together was odd. Hot. I was so used to having each of them to myself.
When he’d stripped off her undergarments, he pushed her to her knees. She went down wholeheartedly. Tarryn opened the front of his dress pants and choked herself on his cock with such desperation, it was as if she’d been deprived of something essential to her survival.
“Such a hot little slut for me.” Valor was running his fingers through her hair, grasping handfuls of it and tugging, then letting it slide between his fingers in a silken red tumble. “That’s right, Nymph. I know you missed this cock. You’ve had his dick to keep you company, but this is the one that’s yours—this is the one you were trained on.” He groaned. “That’s right. There’s my good girl.”
