Page 17 of Always Been Mine

Her mom only sobbed harder into her shoulder. It was then at the age of almost ten that Beatrice started to shoulder her mother’s tears.

Despite her mother’s bitterness with the state of their marriage, Beatrice was thankful that during the times she was sober, she performed her parental duties well. But because she’d been drunk half the time, Beatrice had learned to be independent, so she had taken more responsibilities at a young age. She’d forged her mother’s signature on payment checks and on her school release forms. She would race home from school to fix dinner. Some of her friends picked up on her mom’s nickname for her and turned it to “Busy Bee” until it was later shortened to “Bee” and the name stuck.

Beatrice suspected it was during her high school graduation that her mom had given up on her father when he didn’t show up until weeks later. Her mother filed for divorce not long after.

Interestingly enough, it was about this time her dad took an active interest in Beatrice’s life. And like a dry sponge starved for water, she soaked up whatever attention he gaveher until she was old enough to realize he was molding her into someone like him. Of course she rebelled then, but it was not long after, and with much horror, that she realized she liked the path her dad had carved for her.

The divorce and the eventual distance did help her mother overcome her alcoholism. She eventually checked herself into rehab where she met her second husband—a popular Hollywood producer. She was now living the life of a Stepford wife in a Beverly Hills mansion.

Sadly, Beatrice knew her mom was still in love with her dad. That was the reason Beatrice avoided men like Benjamin Porter. She rose from the couch and walked over to where a couple of picture frames sat on top of a mantel. Her pictures with her mom. One with her dad. No one could probably tell, but Beatrice had arranged the pictures in a way that started with her mother at her most vibrant and youngest. It ended with the pictures during her graduation. Her mom’s beauty had faded into a face etched with bitterness, its vibrancy snuffed out by a force other than age—the indifference of a man who was supposed to love and cherish her.

After Gabe had left her, Beatrice made it a ritual, a therapy, to stare at the photographs first thing in the morning and, when she remembered, the last thing at night. She had since stopped doing it after a year, thinking she had gotten over Gabe. Her breakdown a couple of days ago proved otherwise. So she was getting back into her picture therapy. No way was she going to end up like her mother.

Shuttingthe lid on her laptop, Beatrice sighed in relief. She just finished following up on her doctor’s medical portal regarding her STD tests. She was clean. Health scares like this one should be enough to keep her legs shut, preferably bound together, for the next five years or so. How weird was it thatshe was going to a sex club tonight? Maybe she should content herself with voyeurism and a dildo for the said five years.

Her phone chimed with a text message. Caitlin was running ten minutes late.

She missed those two, Travis and Cat. Caitlin Blake was an amnesiac and hacker genius. She had recently started fielding freelance assignments from the National Security Agency (NSA). Though Travis, in all his caveman glory, wasn’t happy about his wife working for another secretive part of the government, he gave in grudgingly. Caitlin never did remember her past. Any pertinent clue was sealed in CIA-classified files. Caitlin told her that Project Infinity had been corrupted. The mastermind of the cover-up in the agency was still a mystery. The specter agent program had gone beyond the level of top secret and that was all Caitlin knew. A friend and fellow agent, Jase Locke/John Cooper, lied to her about their relationship and tricked her into a life on the run. The truth about her disappearance that night was only revealed through a posthumous letter from Jase. Digging deeper would put herself and Travis in the crosshairs of an unknown enemy, and with Travis and the admiral at odds, Travis was one ally down.

“I want a clean start with Travis, Bee,” Caitlin said. “I hate that I deceived him when we were married. He loves me anyway. I’m sure my reasons were to protect him. So I’m leaving it alone.”

If there were two people who deserved a happily-ever-after, it was those two. They had been through so much, especially Travis. To see her friend now so deliriously happy should be nauseating given her blasé opinion on relationships, but Beatrice was genuinely thrilled for them.

After exactly ten minutes, the doorbell chimed.

Beatrice opened the door to a gorgeously tanned Caitlin Blake. Her blonde hair was bleached lighter by the sun, and her unusual hazel eyes were sparkling with contentment. In short, she was positively glowing.

“Don’t you look so sun-kissed and annoyingly beautiful.”

“Are we doing this mutual admiration thing?” Caitlin smirked and walked in.

Beatrice snorted. “Nah, my ego is brimming right now.”

The other woman eyed her outfit. Beatrice was dressed in a mid-length flounce, flirty skirt in a teal color that complimented her red hair.

“So what am I wearing?”

Beatrice smiled in feline smugness. “You will lovethedress.”

They had beenin the inner sanctum of Diamond Owl for a few minutes now. Beatrice wasn’t feeling it. No way could she do what she was witnessing to a sex partner. What made her think she was a domme? Those damned erotica books she loved reading in her spare time would be her downfall.

Caitlin, Emily, and Beatrice managed to snag a good spot near the stage where a barrier kept the crowd at bay. On display was a woman shackled to what Beatrice knew was a St. Andrew’s Cross. Said woman was being flogged and then felt up for her wetness.

“Oh, my,” Caitlin whispered. “You think you can whip a guy like that, check how hard he is, and then whip him again?”

“Shut up,” Beatrice retorted, feeling like slinking away and escaping. So much for her big bluster earlier.

Caitlin whispered something to Emily. Beatrice leaned in to listen to their conversation when a hand gripped her upper arm firmly.

“Come on, Bee.”

Nate.

What the hell was he doing here?

Beatrice caught sight of Travis’s unmistakable formcrowding Caitlin.Uh-oh. Busted!

She had an uncontrollable compulsion to laugh. Maybe it was the couple of drinks she’d had, or she was just finding the whole situation amusing. The minute she and Nate left the room, she burst out laughing.

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