Twisted - Esme Devlin Page 0,81

my mouth. That feeling returns quickly. The one that catches my breath. The one that has my heart racing inside my chest.

Then he laughs, as if he’s pleased with himself. “Just checking. We can’t have you feeling brave all the time, can we?”

He’s making sure I’m still scared of him, and I fell straight into his trap.

I swallow down the lump in my throat.

He takes a step back. “Anything for you, sweet girl. Now put your face on and come with me.”

23

Baron

There is no show tonight, but there are still guests needing to be entertained. We sit in the club, me in my chair and Sapphire on my knee. Girls dance around poles on the stage and music pounds against my ribcage. The whole thing is rather tame and boring.

At least she’s with me, though, even if she is different.

Braver.

Just slightly, but it’s noticeable.

I feel like I’m walking along a razor’s edge with her. Too much, and I’ll scare her back into that shell I despise, too little, and she’ll stop being scared of me.

I don’t know what the fuck to do.

And patience has never been my virtue.

I’ll give her a few days. Last night her room was bleached until it almost looked white. I sat on the chair and didn’t sleep a wink so she could have my bed to herself. I took the cameras down with my own two hands. I had the mattress burned and put a new one in for her. The windows have been open all day, but it still smells like blood—and I’m the one with the metal nose.

She’s happy, though.

Apparently.

Celeste says to give her time. Give her space. Let her come around on her own.

Then tell her everything.

Let her in.

I’m not so sure about that.

For me to let her in, she’d have to let me in first. For her to let me in, she’d have to love me. And I don’t want that.

Fear is stronger than love, and you can never have both.

And she’s not going to stay scared of me if I spend all my time dipping strawberries in fucking chocolate. That was Celeste’s idea, too.

I accept the fact that it seemed to work, but I also happen to think my original idea would have worked just as well.

Oh well.

She’s here now. Curled up on my knee with half-lidded eyes. I stroke her hair and draw circles on her thigh. She squirms every time my hand strays. It amuses me.

But we could do this anywhere.

We could be in my bed right now.

She told me she wanted to come here.

She feels safer with a crowd because she knows in order to fuck her, I’d have to stomach other people seeing her. She didn’t tell me that, but I know that’s what she was thinking. Sometimes, she is smarter than she looks.

But she’s wrong.

I could bend her over the chair right now, and every soul in this room would avert their eyes if I told them to.

I could. But I won’t.

Patience.

Give her time.

I’m giving her time.

Trying to.

“Can I go to bed now?”

It’s still a few hours until dawn. The music will go off shortly. Money will be exchanged, doors will be locked, clothes will be removed.

But I don’t want to leave her.

“My bed or yours?”

She lifts her perfectly arched eyebrow at me.

I chuckle.

Was worth a try.

I stand up with her still in my arms and nod to Andrei—not that he’s paying much attention. He’s looking at the blonde sucking him off like he wants to start sucking her off.

“I can walk, you know.”

She waits until we’re out of the room to drop that little grenade, and she does it so I don’t need to make a big public spectacle of her insolence. See, she really is smarter than she looks.

But I don’t let her walk. I don’t even let on that I’ve registered her comment.

I don’t say a thing until we are outside her room and I finally put her down.

“So… this is goodnight then…”

This is goodnight… but I don’t want it to be.

She lets out a breath and looks to the side. “See how much easier this is when you’re…”

Her words trail off.

She swallows.

“When I’m what?”

I push her against the wall and lift her up, wrapping her legs around my waist. Boxing her in. Rendering her helpless.

A cry escapes her lips.

She thinks it’ll help her—it won’t. She’s wrong.

Do the cries of a lamb stop the wolf in his tracks?

Of course not.

The cries draw the wolf.

The wolf goes for the neck.

The lamb gets carried