Page 12 of Bound By Them
“If you need anything else, you know where to find me.” She smiles and flips her red ponytail behind her.
Flirting? I briefly entertain the notion of taking her behind the building and working out some of the tension building in my body. Not half a second into the thought, I realize it doesn’t appeal. Maybe I’m not in the mood to fuck tonight. Not in the mood? There’s a first for everything, I guess.
As we leave the restaurant, I catch Troy smirking at me.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing.” He schools his features. “Just, her name is Cammie.”
“Why didn’t she correct me?”
“And tell a Layton that he was wrong about something? No one has the balls for that.”
“Except for you, asshole.” I pull my phone from my pocket.
Three messages from Danica. I gave her my number last night before we dropped her off. Glad to see she’s making use of it already.
I’m downtown. Do you want to meet up?
If you aren’t busy.
I guess you’re busy.
Well, well, well…looks like the Aseyev princess wants to play.
And it seems I’m in the mood to fuck around, after all.
5
Danica
I say goodbye to my brother outside Abdul’s and climb into my hired ride.
The meeting with my parents was about what I expected. It started out cold and quiet, and by the end I was yelling.
Even though I’m beyond pissed at Dmitri, I’m more pissed at our parents. So I allowed my brother to take me to Abdul’s, where I promptly drowned my anger in tequila.
Anger and…sorrow. I would never admit it, not even to my brother, but I’m so fucking sad I feel like a giant fist is squeezing my chest.
The rain is coming down in sheets. My little black dress, AKA the armor I put on before braving my mother, is soaked through.
My driver threw me a towel to sit on so I don’t get the upholstery wet.
She’s a woman around my mom’s age. She has soft music playing, some kind of chanting with deep gong sounds. I think it’s meant to be soothing, but it only stokes my feelings of rage and recklessness.
I squeeze my phone in my hand. I’m on my way home, but that’s not where I want to be. Sitting by myself isn’t what I want to do. I want to dance. Scream. Fuck. Drink. Anything to escape this tight, terrible feeling gripping my heart.
I want to take control, and even more than that, I want to lose it.
Edmund. If I’m going to make all the bad decisions tonight, he should be another one.
After three texts to him, though, it looks like he isn’t available.
Balls.
My phone vibrates in my hand. Startled, I nearly hurl it to the floor.
Edmund wrote back. Troy will pick you up. Where are you?
