Page 37 of Sinister Devotion

It feels good to get out of the house and break our routine. Even though my anxiety takes time to adjust to us taking the day off. Our first stop is at a diner with a flair for outrageous breakfast items. I get my Boysenberry syrup drenched French Toast pancakes while Julian orders a dish I never thought in a million years he'd order.

"That doesn't look like multi grain toast and that's not a matcha latte."

The smile spreading across his face brings so much joy to Julian's eyes and mine as he goes over everything on his plate. "Cinnamon French Toast with AppleJack flavored whipped cream. And this is a stuffed chocolate milkshake with chocolate chips and chocolate cake chunks."

"That's so much sugar, you're going to be bouncing off the walls."

He licks his lips, saying, "I could be bouncing off your walls. No, I'm on my best behavior today. We're having fun. I don't want my default to be sex with you."

"Default sex sounds fun," I joke back and we continue with our breakfast. A silent promise from the both of us to not link back to the way we make each other feel.

After breakfast is a day where Julian's smile grows with every minute we spend together. From an arcade to riding bikes. We have lunch with views of the Golden Gate, talking about everything and sometimes about nothing. We stay away from our respective traumas and simply enjoy being together. I feel at home with Julian and a part of me doesn't want this day to end.

By the end of the night, we're back at the manor, cozy in front of the fireplace at the center of his room.

"Thank you for today, Julian," The quiet solace we find in each other soothes the uneasiness from last night's nightmare. The energy still ripe in the air hanging in the room disappears the longer we sit together. "I know it's a lot for you to not do any kind of work, to change your routine."

"I have to make time for us to have fun in my routine if we're even going to think about pursuing this thing between us further."

Shifting my weight to face him, "If?"

"I know I scared you last night. Shit, I scared myself. I think I dumped everything on you as a defense mechanism."

"Trauma sabotage, that's a new one. Is that what Dr. Malia Mescal calls it?" I immediately hate the snark in my voice.

He takes it in stride. "I'm sorry, Claire. I didn't mean to spring her on you. She's not treating me professionally or sexually. I swear. I just have a great deal of respect for her working with people like me who don't go for traditional methods of dealing with inner demons."

"Do you think you'd still enjoy the pain and pleasure of sex if you didn't go through everything you did?"

He shrugs. "I want to say that I would, but masking one pain to dominate another is like asking if the chicken came before the egg. The only way I can answer that is if the shit with my father never happened in the first place. Unfortunately, we can't turn back those hands of time."

"How about I just meet her? Can we go for coffee or something? I don't want to meet anyone for the first time in black latex with thigh high boots."

He growls, low, visceral, and nuzzles against my neck. "I can't wait to see you in that just to peel you out of it."

"How about you show me where you'd peel me out of it?" I ask him. Curiosity and desire dominate my request. "Take me to your dungeon."

16

JULIAN

I'm not going to complain about where this day takes us, but leading Claire through the kitchen and into the pantry has her eyes darting all over the place. We have this big place all to ourselves after I gave the staff the weekend off. No chefs. No maids. No landscapers plotting to take my Claire out on a date.

"We're in a food closet," she huffs. "What happens now?"

There's a good reason for her confusion. When my mother left this place, so did most of the staff. Charleston didn't mind since he didn't want witnesses to what he'd was putting me through, either. The butler left, but his quarters remained. The renovations to the entire manor took three years to finish, and this nook became a special project to put a piece of my personality into a home I never felt welcome in.

The kitchen, its pantry, and the butler's quarters were all reconfigured to make room for a space I could let loose. The back wall of the pantry is a door that has a push-to-release function. The click of me opening the door seems louder in the small space that's about the size of Claire's bathroom.

"It's like a movie. This house would be great to put in one of those murder mysteries, a good whodunnit, you know?"

I laugh, but little does she know that the murder that happened in this house was no mystery. I know whodunnit and I know one of these days, it will probably come out. However, I don't want to sink into that headspace. The reality of this house and my past remains buried as I lead Claire into a much larger room that hides in a space between the kitchen and ballroom.

"The equipment room for the training area is right above us," I tell her.

Claire turns to me, shock and annoyance etches across her face. "Edward told me this was a panic room! That I didn't need to come and see it."

"I guess it can be considered a panic room of sorts. It's a safe space."

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