Page 56 of Root

“No idea,” she says. “It was in the frame in the thrift store when I got it for a dollar. It’s… It’s nothing.”

Nothing is something.

“Even though it’s nothing, you should come with me.”

“I don’t want to go back to being a prisoner.”

Fuck, if we’d trashed the place to get her to come back—something Nikolai wouldn’t do but I might think of—it wouldn’t be small. The reason Nikolai let her go is simple. He wanted to see where she went. I figured if I could convince her to come back, we could watch her, let her think she could go when she wanted.

So I push it.

“If we wanted you as a prisoner, do you think you’d have walked? I talked Nikolai into letting you go now, before you fully recovered, if you wanted.”

Jess presses her lips together. “And why would you do that? Why come in here?”

“Because I sent someone into Bunny’s to see if you’d been seen. I might want to see you, you know.”

“Flattery gets you squat, Rush.” But her eyes drop to the cheap frame. She looks around; drawers are open, the bed wrecked.

“Either you’re a mess or someone went through here.”

She’s silent a long time. “For helping you.”

“Tell you what, we’ll get out of here, I’ll put you up, a hotel room or one of our apartments. Payback for helping me.”

This feels way too easy, like she wants to get back into the mansion but needs to pretend to fight it.

Whatever’s going on needs a softer touch to get to the truth. I’m that, Rose is that. Nikolai? Not even remotely.

And Rose…

Jess doesn’t want to fuck Rose.

She wants to fuck me.

I can use it. Show Nikolai I’m not the fuck up.

“You can put me up?” she asks.

“Yep.”

There’s a whole beat or two in that silence between us, a whole few seconds where I think she’s going to say no.

But she nods.

“Okay. Just give me ten.”

My tongue’s having problems staying in my mouth.

The bar resides downstairs of one of the smaller luxury apartment complexes we own, located in the trendy, expensive part of Queenstown. One I’m well known for bringing my hot dates to.

Jess is armored up. Her black dress is low cut, long sleeved and ends about an inch above mid-thigh. Her make up’s thick, the cat eyes enough to rival even Dante, and every pierced hole in her ears is covered in silver, from the tip down to the lobe.

She has on leather and silver cuffs and bracelets, and a few more rings. Her lips are blood red, and her pixie is punked out.

Her feet are in motorcycle boots and a leather jacket with Lady M is slung on the back of her seat as she leans on the bar. And…

Her thick thigh highs might be socks and I’m wondering if she has on panties.

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