and forefinger, holding it in front of my face. “I know you need to go back.”
I swallow and nod. Logan sets my phone and the ring on a side table.
“You’ll return to me,” he says. His finger traces a wide circle around my pierced nipples. “You’ll remember me.”
“Yes.” I cup his face. “I can do this, Logan. You can trust me.”
An hour later, a familiar car pulls up. I’m dressed warmly. My nipple piercings are carefully bound, but they chafe. A constant reminder of the one I’m leaving. The one I belong to.
He’s trusting me. I won’t fail him. Not this time.
Twenty-Three
Present Day
Daphne
In the car I grab my phone and dial my dad. The call doesn’t connect until we’re out of the hills and forest and on the road to New Olympus. But then it rings and rings for a while until a nurse picks up.
“Is my father all right?” I ask after we exchange greetings.
The nurse hesitates. “He’s sleeping now. I’d wake him but--”
“Oh, no, it’s fine. He needs his sleep.” He’s been sleeping more and more lately. I give instructions for the nurse to call me when he wakes. I’m sure Adam pestered him about coming to the engagement party. I add that to my list of things to confront my ‘fiancé’ about.
Can’t wait. Not. If I could, I’d tell the driver to turn the car around.
But no. The new Daphne doesn’t avoid conflict. Still, all too soon the car is pulling up to one of the first high rises built in New Olympus, a grand old building repurposed into an event space. I order the driver to pull around back to avoid the caterers and crew setting up in the ballroom downstairs. Hopefully I can get my dress, hair, and makeup done before anyone sees me.
Rachel is pacing in a fancy private parlor on the second floor. “Daphne,” she breathes and I rush to give her a hug. Wow, I’ve really missed her. So much has happened. I could use a friend to confide in.
“You okay?” she draws back to study my face. She looks worried but I just give her arm a squeeze.
“Yep. Let’s do this.” I strip quickly out of my clothes.
“Holy shit. You’re pierced.” Rachel’s mouth hangs open.
Oops. “Yes.” No use feigning a shyness I don’t feel. I’m not ashamed. I go to the mirror to inspect the piercings.
“When?”
“Logan did it.”
Rachel shakes her head, but says nothing as I pull my saline spray from my purse. I ignore her, sharing a shy smile with the woman in the mirror.
Thank you, Logan, for marking me. Just seeing them reminds me of who I am. Of my strength. Warmth pools in my lower belly as I care for my piercings as he ordered.
“Um, I got a few dresses, but with those,” Rachel waves at my chest, “This one might be the best option.” She holds up a gold dress with a sweetheart top.
“No,” I say. “I ordered something myself. It should’ve been delivered with the rest.” At Rachel’s skeptical look, I smile and add, “No tree costume this time, I promise.” I go to the roller rack of dresses and rummage until I find the green sheath. “Here.” Green reminds me of Logan, and I need all the reminders I can get.
Rachel pauses as I hold up the dress against myself, eyeing me.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she says, but then she crosses her arms over her chest. “There’s something different about you.” She rolls her eyes. “Apart from the obvious.” She gestures at my boobs but then gets serious again, obviously waiting for my answer.
There are a thousand things on the tip of my tongue. I want to tell her about all of it. About Logan and how amazing and electric he is. About the future I’ve only begun daring to hope for with him. About how screwed up everything is with the company and Adam, complicated even more by how much Logan hates him and—
I reach out and grab Rachel’s hand. “Let’s just get through tonight. This week, you and me. We’ll go out for coffee or stay in and have a movie night and download everything going on in each other’s lives.”
Rachel squeezes my hand back. “I’ll hold you to that promise. Now, get your ass in this chair so the stylist can do her wonders. She’ll be here any sec—” Right then the doorbell rings and Rachel springs up to go answer it.
An hour later, my hair and make up are done and I’m in the