Page 32 of Capitol Matters

“You say ‘us,’ but you’re not part of this anymore,”he said slowly. “You’ve been removed from Bloody Hex matters for your own good. These concerns aren’t yours.”

“Of course, they’re my concerns,” I snapped. “The gang is all I have. It’s all Donnie has, too, since you forced him into it.”

Grimm moved forward to close the gap to me. “I didn’t force that boy into anything. Not likeyoutried to force him out of it.” His voice carried a warning. The façade was slipping.

“Fitch.” Isha cleared her throat.

I glanced over in time to see her aim a pointed look at the door I’d left open.

“You need to go,” she said.

“Fine.” I turned toward the exit. “I was done, anyway.”

Before I could leave, Grimm crossed the room to drape his arm across Isha’s bare shoulders. He looked meaningfully at me.

“You know, we came here tonight to relax, and you seem pretty wound up. Perhaps you should take advantage of Miss Kapoor’s services?” He used his free hand to brush hair away from Isha’s face, then smiled.

The madam’s expression went stricken. She licked her lips, visibly searching for words and coming up speechless. She wouldn’t refuse him, though her “services” weren’t his to offer.

Behind them, the unmade bed might have beckoned, but instead it repulsed me. I shook my head. “No, I’m really done.”

With this place and all the people in it.

I left the room and intended to leave the building, but my journey down the hall was cut short by a woman standing in an open doorway. She wore black patent leather with fishnet stockings and a come-hither smile that stopped me in my tracks. The outfit wasn’t bad, but her balloon boobs and drugstore dye job pushed the look into absurdity.

“I know you,” she cooed. “Puppet boy.”

Not my type. Not usually. But I was here with no car and no interest in calling a taxi for the second time tonight.

The woman approached. One hand grazed my crotch while the other knotted in my hair. She pressed in and used every inch of the height provided by her stiletto heels to whisper in my ear. “I hear you like to be tied up.” Her breath warmed my cheek. “Tight.”

My cock stiffened at her touch.

I glanced back at Isha’s bedroom door. I missed that room. Missed being there with her. But I wasn’t about to make a meal of Grimm’s leftovers when there was fresh meat on the table.

Staying over at the Blooming Orchid came with the unexpected perk of seeing Isha’s face the next morning when she discovered me at the breakfast table. The staff habitually enjoyed lavish meals, and today was no exception. The eight-foot spread boasted French toast, poached eggs, and a mountain of crispy bacon.

I sat apart from the girls as they crowded in, sharing lively retellings of the previous night’s escapades. The reviews were hardly glowing, and hookers putting Hex members on blast was the best entertainment I could have hoped for any time of day.

“Tiny,” a blonde in pink bunny pajamas said between giggles. “This big.” She held up two fingers a couple inches apart. “I hope he got something out of it because I sure didn’t.”

Sympathetic groans circled the group.

I nibbled a strip of bacon, feigning disinterest as Isha meandered down the side of the dining table. A sheer robe was tied over her blue silk minidress, and I could have sworn she put a little more sway in her hips as she made her way toward me.

“Mine wanted me to tickle him,” a brunette in a black teddy chimed. “Just tickling. That was all. Until he pissed the bed.”

A chorus of disgust answered the confession, and I snorted into my orange juice.

Isha closed in, dragging over a chair to sit beside me. Her hand slid down my arm to settle on the ligature marks dug into my wrist. She brushed her thumb across them while eyeing similar indentions ringing my throat.

“Liv said you enjoyed yourself last night.” She smiled coyly. “I’m relieved. I was afraid your time in prison may have ruined you for those sorts of games.”

I pulled out of her grasp, cupping my hand to cover the side of my neck nearest her. “I know the difference between playtime and punishment.”

She took a piece of toast off my plate and bit off thecorner. “They aren’t always mutually exclusive,” she murmured.

“And that’s not why I’ve been avoiding you.”

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