Page 59 of Tower

“Two more days, Azalea. Until your mother shows up on that doorstep.” He jabbed a finger at the front door. “You belong to me for that long at least.”

“Belong to you, belong to my mother. Do you think there will ever be a day when I will belong only to myself?”

She ran up the stairs, all the way to his room. Not her room, or their room, his room. Everything belonged to someone else. Nothing was ever truly hers.

By the time she got inside and slammed the door, her lungs burned and tears ran hot down her cheeks. He’d been asking those questions for a reason.

And much like her own mother, he was keeping it all from her.

Chapter 18

Peter paced the hallway outside his bedroom. How the hell had he let this happen?

He was locked out of his own fucking room!

“Peter!” Daniel jogged the last few steps of the stairs. “I have it.” He waved the key. Peter never locked his rooms; there had never been a reason to.

“Thank you.” Peter snagged it from him.

“Maybe…don’t go in yet,” Daniel suggested with some hesitation.

“Why?”

“Because you’re still pissed, and she’s still pissed, and I’ve never seen you jump into a spanking like that.”

“Are you accusing me of punishing her out of anger?” Peter had already gone over every flitting emotion that occurred before throwing her over that banister. Anger wasn’t among them. Fear she wasn’t ready for what was coming her way. Irritation she wasn’t listening. But not anger. He would never touch her in anger.

“No. I’m saying— Fuck. Man, I’ve never seen you this attached to a woman. Like ever.” Daniel gestured toward the locked door. “And I’ve known you since we were kids.”

“Get to the point.” Because if the point was to make Peter start evaluating his feelings for Azalea, Daniel should start backing away.

“Look, I saw her this morning while we were at the college. She belonged there, man. She just—I don’t know, like lit up when we walked past the coffee shop and the bookstore.”

“Then why did you let her sign up for an online class?” Peter asked.

“Because.” Daniel sighed. “She seemed afraid, and I figured you’d straighten it out. I didn’t know you were going to go warlike Dom on her about it, though.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Peter gritted his teeth.

“I mean…” Daniel straightened up, like he was coming to her aid. “Did it occur to you to ask her why she wanted the online class? She thinks she’s going home with that crazy woman. She thinks she’s going to walk out of here and be put right back in that fucking tower her mother kept her in. And if that’s not the case, you’ll just stash her in your own version.” Daniel’s voice hardened, and although Peter had heard him use the tone on women in the Annex, on his own submissive, and an asshole or two, he did not appreciate it being turned on him.

Even if he could start to see that it was warranted.

“She said that?” Peter looked at the locked door.

“No. She didn’t need to. Maybe if you weren’t so hung up on figuring out who her mother is, you’d be able see more of Azalea.”

“You got a thing for her?” Peter took a menacing step toward Daniel. Longtime friend or not, if he so much as had a fleeting thought of touching Azalea, Peter would knock it out of his fucking head.

“Of course not.” Daniel shook his head. Daniel wasn’t into sweet women; he enjoyed the darker side of consent. A woman too willing didn’t keep him interested for long. Not that Azalea would be willing with him, but she was too sweet for Daniel. Way too sweet.

“But you’re right. You’re supposed to be working on getting information on Bellatrix. Not me.” Peter gripped the key, letting the teeth bite into his palm. “I’ll take Azalea back to school to get her class switched. You—get your ass back to work on figuring out who else Bellatrix works for and how she gets her girls, and where the fuck she’s been this whole time.”

Daniel clenched his teeth. If he wanted to argue, he managed to bite it back. Without a word, he jogged back down the stairs.

Peter ran a hand over his mouth and down his neck. Daniel hadn’t been far off the mark.

Azalea, as far as he knew, hadn’t been given many choices in her life. And he hadn’t exactly been generous in that department, either. He told himself he was looking after her. Giving her the opportunity to go to class, letting her free to roam the estate. But he wouldn’t let her leave. She wasn’t free.

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