Page 112 of Caught Up

Aly gripped my shoulder. “I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be. If I’d done that alone, it would have been much worse.”

I filled her in on how Dad had been about to let me go, but her gaze drifted back to the house while I spoke, and she still looked mad enough that I was worried she might storm back inside. Josh finally joined us then, popping a piece of gum into his mouth and then wrapping a preemptive arm around his fiancée’s waist.

Aly sighed, realizing her chance had passed. “Please tell me Moira isn’t staying.”

“She’s probably staying,” I said.

“Why has she put up with him for so long?” Aly asked.

I sighed. “He’s not always like this. You’ve seen that. He can be funny and charming, and most of that is reserved for Mom. She gets the best of him. Hell, I think she might be the only person he truly loves.”

Lauren made a small sound of distress and slipped her arms around me. “That’s so sad.”

I hugged her back. “And it’s true that he wasn’t always this bad. He’s gotten much worse over the years. I think a lot of it comes down to fear and perception. Me breaking away from him shows the people in our world that there’s weakness in his house, and there are plenty of others just like my dad looking to exploit that to their own advantage. He’s terrified of being usurped, of becoming expendable, because he knows better than anyone what happens when you are.”

Aly frowned. “Do you think he’s going to come after you?”

I shook my head. “No. Mom’s staying for more than herself. She’s staying for all of us. She’s Dad’s last tether to his humanity, and I’m sure she’ll spend the next several days reminding him that if he does anything toreallyhurt me, this family will be broken beyond repair and he’ll be the architect of his own demise, left completely alone in the world.”

Lauren frowned. “So, what? You think he’ll come back around? Try to make amends?”

I nodded. “Eventually. That split second before you tased him, I felt like I was looking at the old Dad. The one who taught me how to throw a baseball, the one who used to put Greg on his shoulders during parades so he could see over the crowd.”

Aly looked unconvinced. “Well, no matter what happens, I think we can all agree that we’re done with these dinners.”

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” I said.

Josh made a contemplative sound. “Maybe we start having our own family dinners instead.”

Aly beamed, looking to Lauren and me. “What do you think?”

“I like it,” Lauren said. “Nic?”

I grinned. “I’m in.”

34

Lauren

“How are you?” Nic asked,rubbing a hand over my back.

“A little nervous,” I admitted. “It’s one thing to do this in the comfort of my own bedroom, another in front of a live audience.”

He nodded and stepped closer. “We don’t have to go through with it if you don’t want to.”

I shook my head. “No. I want to.”

Two months had passed since Nic took ownership of Velvet’s building, and a lot had changed in that time. Renovations were in full swing on the third floor. We’d opened our doors on Thursday and Sunday nights as well, and were already doing enough business that they’d become profitable. Hoping to capitalize on our earlier brainstorming, we were even subletting to boudoir photographers and camworkers during the day. Velvet was pulling in more money than ever before, and not just because Nic had kept good on his word and lowered our rent.

Things had changed between us as well. Nic had barely let me out of his sight that first month, concerned that he’d miscalculated and his father might actually do something to hurt us. But Moira had stayed when everyone else left, and she spent that time pulling Nico Senior back from the brink inch by bloody inch. Now they were in couples therapy, and the thought of reconciliation didn’t seem as impossible as it had in the days right after that disastrous family dinner.

Nic was slowly starting to relax, starting to believe that he was really, truly free, and the change coming over him was incredible to witness. He’d stopped wearing his mask in the club. We’d spent every weekend visiting the various rooms together, learning what we liked as a couple. Voyeurism remained our most deeply shared kink, but Nic had other tastes that he was still exploring, and it turned out exhibitionism and bondage were two of his favorites. Hence us standing in the narrow back hallway that ran behind all the private rooms, me dressed in lingerie and a silk robe, him, a pair oflow-slungjeans.

My eyes kept catching on his naked torso, the tattered wings tattooed on his chest, the guns on his ribs, and then his abs, unmarred by ink but dotted with scars. Nic’s muscles weren’t showy. They were dense, compact. He didn’t have a gym rat body; he had the physique of someone who had gained his muscles the hard way, and I was addicted to the sight of it. Especially because half the time we fucked, I was in such a rush to get him inside me that he rarely had time to do anything except unzip his pants. I kept telling myself to slow down, to take my time, but even several months since the first time I’d laid eyes on him again in the church hallway, I still lost my head around him, and honestly? I hoped that never changed.

“Are you sure you don’t want to know what you’re in for?” he asked.

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