Page 121 of Plaything

There was no other way to describe it; I was paralyzed in fear. I wanted nothing more than to move my legs, run past him, into Vincent’s car, drive away, and never return.

“You’ve certainly grown up beautifully. You’re a heartbreaker, aren’t you?” He said before taking more steps towards me. My inability to move or speak only encouraged him.

Move your damn legs, Odette.

“There’s no need to be shy, Honey. I’ve heard about you in the papers, you know.” He didn’t remove his hands from his pockets, but he stood so close to me that I could smell his overpowering cologne. He leaned close to me, so he whispered in my ear. “I know you like to be fucked. That was just you in high school. I can’t imagine all the big girl things you’ve learned in college,” he leaned back again, sending me a knowing look.

My hands were balled in fists at my sides as I watched him. Disgust crept through my veins as he touched my unmoving arm.

Fucking move your ass.

“I bet you’d rather play with an older man, not those silly boys, huh?” He smirked. “I bet you’re dripping wet under that dress at the thought of me pulling you into one of these rooms and having my way with you.”

“Don’t touch me!” I warned, shoving his chest, finally able to move enough to get him a few short inches away from me.

He held his hands up in surrender. “You don’t have to play hard to get, Odette—”

“Well, this is awkward.” My limbs unlocked as Vincent approached. He stood behind Lestat in the dark hall. “What’s going on, Lestat?” He asked, his tone knowing yet lighthearted.

Lestat took a step away from me. “Vincent,” he greeted with obvious distaste. “I don’t think that’s any of your concern. If you must know, we were just catching up.”

Vincent chuckled. “I’m glad to hear that because from the way you waited for her to walk away from the crowd, then followed her, and the threat I thought I heard down the hall, someone might think you had bad intentions with the host’s daughter,” he spoke calmly, but the warning was clear as day in his tone.

“It’s a good thing you misheard us then, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Vincent took a few more steps forward. “You see, I don’t particularly know her very well, and I certainly don’t care enough to get my hands dirty over a misunderstanding,” he commented, making my stomach drop again.

Vincent’s eyes darkened. “However, that girl is important to four of my closest friends, to say the absolute least. If any of them strolled down this hall and heard your miscommunication, it would end very differently. One of them would quite literally beat you to death. Another would probably scold you to the brink of suicide and make you rethink your miserable life. The other two would report you—after beating the ever-living fuck out of your old ass,” he threatened.

My eyes were round as saucers as I watched Vincent speak. All doubts I had of his character melted away instantly. Lestat cleared his throat, seeming uncomfortable as he loosened his tie.

Vincent smiled. “So you see, you put me in a very awkward situation. Like I said, not my girl, not my problem. But if you even glance in her direction again for the duration of the evening, I’ll have to make a call,” he threatened.

Lestat didn’t look back at me as he watched Vincent, looking for any sign of a bluff. He found none. Even I was intimidated by his threat. “It won’t happen again,” he mumbled before he strolled down the long hall, out of sight.

A strange sense of shame filled me as I replayed the interaction. Like an opossum, I basically played dead while Lestat threatened me. I knew what would have happened if Vincent didn’t magically appear to save the day. Deep down, I knew my limbs locking up was psychological, and I shouldn’t blame myself. Still, I felt so stupid.

“Do you want to go?” Vincent asked.

Yes. “Charles wants to talk to me after dinner,” I responded quietly. Leaving this hellhole sounded delightful, but unfortunately, I had an obligation.

He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “No more wandering, okay? I’d rather not have to call Dominic and be responsible for a murder,” he hinted.

“You’re not going to tell them, are you?” I begged. I didn’t want them to worry. If they knew, I’d also have to explain Lestat and how I knew him. The situation was an all-around mess that I couldn’t face myself, let alone explain.

Vincent pulled out a small bottle from his pocket. “No, I don’t think so—which makes me a shitty friend, by the way,” he gave me a stern look. “You should tell them, though,” he debated while opening the bottle and downing it.

Well, that wasn’t happening, but I appreciated his discretion, even if it made him a bad friend.

My stomach was still in knots as I approached him and held my hand out. We’d made it an hour into the evening before whipping out the shots. Call me crazy, but I’d call that a success. “Thank you,” I muttered. All things considered, I was really lucky Vincent was here.

Handing me a shot, he chuckled. “Just don’t make me be scary again, okay?”

We walked back downstairs just as everyone headed to the massive dining room. Of course, there were assigned seats, and I was next to Charles at the end of the table. On my other side was wife number one, whom I’d only seen in pictures until now. Going down the line, I saw the rest of the ex-wives and my step-siblings in order. After them, business partners, then any staff formally invited as a guest and not working.

Our glasses were promptly filled, and glorious appetizers were placed in front of each of us. It was some kind of soup that smelled good, like fresh cilantro. I kept my hands in my lap, knowing the rules. Charles ate first.

It was a bit of a shock for me to notice so many others diving right in, but their hands hadn’t been slapped for even reaching for a spoon. They were never scolded and sent to bed without eating at all.

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