I wrapped my arms around her, stopping her scattered words. “I promise I’ll still be here when you get home.”
She nodded into my chest before pulling away, glancing at the empty curb as she made her way to her car.
I waited. For over an hour I waited, watching from the living room window, but I knew he would come. The black car pulled to the curb, the front windows cracking as it idled. I strolled out of the house, envisioning him staring at me through the darkened windows. I stopped halfway down the walkway, hunting for movement. “She’s not here.”
No signs of life came from the car, infuriating me further. I moved closer, pausing outside the driver’s side door. “I think it’s time for you and me to have a chat.”
The door unlocked before opening, the man I had envisioned him to be not that dissimilar from the man who stepped out of the car. Dark hair, muscular, most likely more brawn than brain. He shut the door, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back against it.
“She isn’t going to leave me.”
“What if I kill you?” His voice was flat, calm in its threat.
“And spend your life in prison? How is that helpful to your cause?”
“Didn’t she tell you?” He smiled, his teeth flashing in the darkness. “I’m beyond your laws.”
I paused, trying to comprehend the pieces before giving up and shrugging. “Then go ahead. She’ll never forgive you, and I’ll laugh at you from the afterlife when she slams the door in your face again.”
He pressed his lips together, his gaze tearing through me.
“Feel free to keep going but I should warn you, I’ve never lost a big dick contest.”
***
Gemma
***
I stood outside Miranda’s house convincing myself I had regained control until her door swung open and I burst into tears. I threw my hands in the air, waiting for words to come from my mouth, but all that came was an incoherent slur of agony.
Her mouth fell open, her hand immediately grabbing mine, pulling me into her house. “What happened?”
“Arlo’s back!” Another wave burst from my eyes, my breath catching in my throat.
She stared at me in silence, her mouth hanging open before she lead me into the living room.
“He showed up at my door a few days ago.” I sat on her couch, wiping the sleeves of my coat over my cheeks.
She took a seat on the coffee table in front of me, her arms crossing over her chest. “What an asshole.”
Her words cut into me, a truth I didn’t want to accept. “I don’t think he wanted to disappear.”
“Then why did he?”
I shook my head, grabbing a pillow and holding it in my lap.
“Same old bullshit. Liars never change–”
“He didn’t lie.” I bit into my lip, squeezing into the pillow. “He told me what he was and what came with it. I just didn’t care.”
“And you paid for your blindness. Don’t you dare put the blame on yourself. He knew he could never give you everything you wanted, but he kept coming back and pretending he could.”
“I think he wanted to–”
“Stop making excuses for him! I’ve known men like him. I was raised by men like him- the one’s who want to make us weak. Steal our voices. Our souls.” She stood up, her voice harsh. “And what about Cole? You’re just going to throw him away–”
“Never!” Cole was every piece and every part of me. My strength and my salvation, the thought of him leaving like a knife in my chest. “He’s my soul…” I shoved my face into the pillow, screaming into it, trying to release some of the emotions that were burning me alive. “But my heart, Miranda! My fucked up heart!”
Her arms wrapped around me, holding me to her.
“Why don’t we get a safe word?” I mumbled into the pillow, my tears soaking into the fabric.
“We’re dommes,” she whispered, rocking me as I shattered. “We’re supposed to be strong enough to withstand the pain.”
***
Cole
***
He rubbed his hands over his face, his confidence diminishing as he stared at me from across her kitchen table. “Where is she?”
I shrugged.
“Château?”
I shrugged again, enjoying watching him squirm.
“Are you… from there?”
“I’m from Orange County.”
“You know what I mean.”
The smile pulled at my lips as I stifled the laugh lurking behind it. “I’m actually quite confused right now.”
His eyes narrowed, his body tensing. “Are you one of those men from the Château?”
“Does it matter?” I sat back, assessing him. “What’s your plan, Arlo? From my understanding, your relationship with my mistress was short, filled with resistance, and ended with you leaving her.”
“Your mistress?” His hands tightened into fists before releasing, folding onto the table in front of him. “I had no choice.”
I raised my brow sarcastically. “A life or death situation?”
“My life and my death have never been relevant.”
My fingers tapped the table, buying time to try and find the missing pieces. I could keep fishing, but I doubted he would bite. I would have to stick to what I knew, and there was nothing I knew better than her. “She’s a domme. That hasn’t changed.”
“And I serve her in my own way.”
“It isn’t about your way. That isn’t what this lifestyle is about.”
“I’m not putting my cock in a cage and crawling around like a fucking dog–”
“Then why are you here?” I cut him off, my contempt for him rising. “Why are you begging a domme to take you back if you think the lifestyle is so demeaning?”
“I don’t have to justify myself or my needs to you.”
I inhaled, the rage seething in my chest beginning to twist into something more sinister. “She’s in love with me. Very, very in love with me.” I paused, contemplating the truth I was about to offer. “Unfortunately, she’s also still in love with you.”
A light of hope flashed across his face, taunting me.
“I’m a lot of things, Arlo. I’m a slave to her, and only her, but we all have our kinks, and I’m far from vanilla.” I slid back into my seat, staring at him from across the table. I wanted to see him kneel. See him beg. See how far he would go to win her back. I wanted to savor every moment of his discomfort, a discomfort he would suffer for her, as it should be. As it should have always been. “If you want a chance here, a sliver of hope for the feel of her skin, I’ll offer you an opportunity.”
His brow raised, his stare hunting mine.
“You will kneel to her. Serve her. Protect her. Be the perfect slave behind these walls, living solely for her pleasure, for as long as she finds you pleasurable. You will follow her rules, and mine–”
“Absolutely not.” He stood up, towering over me. “I’m not a cuck.”
“This isn’t about you and what you are and what you’re not.” I ignored his attempt at intimidation, shaking my head. “When it comes to you and me, there would be no purposeful physical contact of any kind. You would be here for her pleasure, not your own, which you’ll have to prove, even if it makes you uncomfortable. You’ll probably end up in a lot of positions which will make you uncomfortable, but you’ll put her needs above your discomfort.” I stood up, smiling as I mocked his stance. “Those are my terms. Let me know when you’re ready to prove you accept them.”
***
Arlo
***
I stared into the darkness, leaning back against the hood of my car on the desolate road. How could a year seem like a lifetime? A lifetime alone, longing for a life that never belonged to me. I had disappeared underground, giving up the sunrise and the warmth of her skin to keep the monsters from breaking down her door. But now the snake was dead, the one who had slithered through the hallways of the Maze, entwining himself around all our secrets, his camouflage disintegrating with a single mumbled sentence.
I shivered in the rising chill, climbing back into my car. I’d chosen my path. It was unfair to expect her to follow. It was time to give up. Go back to what I had done before her- one night stands to temporarily soothe an ache. But the ache had become infinite, the warmth they offered not enough to penetrate the deaths haunting my soul. Gemma had offered more than a body, more than a moment quickly forgotten.
I pulled off the road, the barren land leading me back to the Maze, reminding me I had to stop pretending I could belong to another. My soul had already been claimed, the goddess of the underground calling me back to her.
A shadow shifted in the darkness, seated on a rock in the distance. I reached under my shirt, my hand grasping the cool metal of my gun. I pressed on the gas pedal, my pulse rising until the shadow’s arm raised towards the sky, waving at me. JJ’s face illuminated in my headlights, his smile flashing towards me as I rolled to a stop.
“You look like you need a beer.” He pulled one out of the pack as I climbed out of my car, handing it to me.
I sat down next to him, popping open the can.
“Gemma troubles?”
“Siren troubles?”
He laughed, nodding. “Don’t get it twisted. The two are not the same.”
I rubbed my hand over the back of my neck, contemplating treading dangerous territory. “Are you sure they–”
“I’ve known her longer than almost anyone in the Maze. I’m one of the few people who knows her real name, her favorite color, her favorite movie, and I can’t imagine anything more terrifying than the man brave enough to try and sleep with her.” He paused, taking a sip of his beer. “So no, the two are not the same.”
I held up my can, tapping my fingers against it to fill the lingering silence.
“You going to keep ruining my peace, or are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
“The Eyes and Ears haven’t kept the Maze up on the gossip?”
“Never believe what you hear and only half of what you see.”
I chewed into my lip, the words trying to escape my mouth too surreal. “He offered a truce, but I can’t share her.”
Leave a Reply