Page 117 of Forfeits

I heard subdued conversation and sounds of movement from the living area. Then Aiden came into the kitchen.

“They’re leaving.”

I looked at him, wondering how on earth we’d gotten to this place.

“But…but we haven’t had the lasagna.” All that work and hope that somehow this could fix the situation.

“I’m so sorry, Fletcher. I tried to get them to stay.”

I nodded, wiping tears of frustration from the corners of my eyes with the heel of my hand.

“God, Aiden. I’d give anything to be in the Bordello with you right now. I want to be Treasure for a little while—not Daniel’s grieving husband, not Lucy’s dad, not Annie and Brian’s fucking son-in-law.” I lifted my gaze to his. “I just want to be me.”

He stared at me for a long moment. “When are Robin and Patrick bringing Lucy home?”

“We’ve probably got a few hours.”

Aiden looked sober. He walked past where I was standing and turned the oven off.

“Follow me,” he said.

What was happening? Was this what I thought it was? My brain began to swim but I focused on Aiden’s words. All I had to do was what he told me.

I followed.

He led me upstairs. “Guest room or main room?”

It didn’t take me long to decide. “Main room.”

“Take off your clothes, fold them and put them here,” Aiden said, pulling the straight chair out from my desk. “And I want you to count your breaths while you do that. Ten on the inhale and ten on the exhale.”

“Thank you,” I said, my trembling fingers working on the buttons of my shirt.

Aiden went to my bedside table and gently turned the framed photo of Daniel on its face.

“When you’re done, come over here and kneel at my feet.” He sat on the bed and placed his hands on his thighs.

I obeyed, concentrating on my breathing like he’d instructed. When I was completely naked, I kneeled at Aiden’s feet.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“What are you sorry for?” he asked.

I inhaled—one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. “For fucking up dinner. For chasing them away. For not being able to—to fix this.” I exhaled—one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

“Fletcher,” Aiden said, stroking my hair in a way that made me feel cherished. “None of that is your fault.”

I nodded. I couldn’t speak. I continued to count my breaths, feeling a sense of calm return.

“And you’re only a horse, my Treasure, so you can’t possibly figure this out right now. And I need you here, your mind and your body, at my feet and under my command. Can you be Treasure for me?”

“Yes, Sir,” I whispered.

“Good pony. Stand up.” Aiden stood.

I did as he’d instructed.

“Cross your wrists behind your back. Where do you keep your ties?”

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