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“Yes. We’ve gone many times.”
“This week! Did he go this week?”
Devin blinked at me. “Not this week. He tagged along on a trip to Geneva the last couple days. It wasn’t that exciting, but—”
I put my head in my hands.
“Did he promise to take you to Morocco?” Devin asked. I couldn’t reconcile his kind voice with the rude Dom who’d taunted me last week.
“No,” I said, choking on the word. “He hasn’t promised me anything. He never promised me anything.”
Milo touched my back, but I stiffened. It wasn’t that I didn’t want comfort, I just didn’t want it now. I didn’t want it here, and I didn’t want it from a man who’d scared me last week.
Rachel returned with my coat and I retreated to The Gallery’s black and gold bathroom to stare at myself in the mirror. My waterproof makeup couldn’t resist so many tears. I was a mess, both inside and out. I hid in a stall until Rachel came in after me, coaxing me out and down to Devin’s car. They both insisted on walking me to my door, and Devin offered to have Rachel stay with me all night.
Rachel turned out to be pretty nice. Devin turned out to be a decent human too, but I needed to be alone to heal from the huge wrong turns I’d taken lately. I should have canceled The Gallery. I never should have gone in the first place.
I should have had a few less drinks that night Fort found me outside Underworld, so he wouldn’t have noticed me at all.
Chapter Twenty-Five: Fort
Milo and Devarrived just after one in the morning. I thought about refusing them entry, but the confrontation would come at some point, so why not now? I let them in, then went back to collapse on my couch. They took the chairs across from me, sitting up straight. This wasn’t going to be a relaxed conversation.
Devin took the first shot. “Are you ready to explain, you fucking asshole?”
Both of them glowered at me. They were still dressed from The Gallery, fresh from the scene of my crime. I wondered if they’d go back to finish their Saturday night fun after reaming me out.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Is Juliet all right?”
“She was taken care of, but I wouldn’t say she’s all right.” Milo’s voice was sharp as a razor. “You left her bound and impaled on a raised beam. She wasn’t in anyone’s care for several minutes.” His eyes darkened with incredulity. “You walked away and left her all alone.”
“Yeah, because I couldn’t stay with her. She was getting too weird and emotional. The way she looked at me…” I twisted my hands together. “You don’t understand.”
“No, I don’t understand,” said Dev. “Nobody does. Dominants don’t do that to their subs, ever.” If Devin’s gaze was fire, it would have reduced me to ash. “Why did you leave her in the middle of The Gallery alone?”
I couldn’t explain the intensity of feeling that had sent me running, or the depth of despair that followed. I had no excuses, just my fucked up inability to give Juliet the connection she wanted. The connection she needed. I dropped my head and rubbed my eyes. “I don’t know. I don’t fucking know.”
Dev came at me, shoving my head up. “You don’t know? Really? I was the one who had to clean up your selfish goddamn mess. I was the one who found Juliet looking around with that dazed, bereft expression, and I’m not going to forget it anytime soon. So fucking explain why you did it.”
I shoved his hand away. “You know why I did it.”
“Say it out loud, motherfucker. Because I’m not sure you know.”
Milo stepped between us. “This isn’t about Fort and his issues. It’s about Juliet.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” snapped Devin. “It’s one hundred percent about Fort and his issues.” He leaned toward me, his eyes narrowed. “What did she say? Something that touched you? Something that moved you? Did she tell you she was doing this for you, that she loved you?”
“It’s none of your fucking business.”
“You know how this works,” said Devin. “You knew the danger, you knew she was a bad idea from the beginning. And you know the fucking rules: never, ever fuck with the vulnerable.” He poked a finger into my chest. “And definitely don’t storm out of a sex dungeon while they’re bound, when they’re supposed to be in your care.”
He turned away on the wordcare, like he couldn’t even look at me. I understood. I hadn’t been able to look at myself either since I’d left. I couldn’t tell either of them the truth, that I had fallen hard for her, that I maybe already loved her to the point of terror. They thought this was everyday playboy relationship-avoidance bullshit.
I wished that was all it was.
I hadn’t ever felt this way about a woman, and no woman had ever loved me, I was sure of that. No woman had ever looked past the money and status to see the man, or try to understand him. No woman had ever kicked through my walls to the longing underneath, but Juliet had looked at me in that dungeon with startling emotion in her eyes, and the bricks started crumbling. She accepted my sadism and roughness, my childish self-protectiveness. She loved me anyway, her gaze encompassing her entire soul.
And I wasn’t enough for that soul, no matter how much I loved her.
