Page 40 of Bound By Them
“And…I think that’s enough.” I yank my hand from her pants and pop my fingers into my mouth, tasting her. So fucking sweet. “Enjoy your visit with your granddad.”
She stares at me in shock, looking dazed. “You…what? Enough?”
“I told you I was going to punish you.”
“Yeah, no problem.” Troy’s voice, loud in the hall, is getting closer. “They’re probably cleaning up. I’ll go check on them, sir.”
I raise my eyebrows at Danica. “That’s my cue to leave.”
“Ugh!” She shoves at my shoulder before doing up the buttons on her jeans. “Never speak to me again.”
“Princess.” I shake my head. “If I could stay away from you, I fucking would.”
Danica
The day after we saw each other at my granddad’s house, Edmund sends flowers. I set the vase on the curb outside my house with a note that says “free.”
The next day, a box of luxury chocolates. I leave them on the counter for my roommates. Wallace eats so many, he makes himself sick.
More gifts arrive each day. Several bouquets, a bracelet with dangling sapphire charms, a case of beautiful, brightly colored macarons. I give away every single one.
After over a week of gifts, my roommates and I are getting ready to go to the movies. I think this is Elias’s idea because I’ve been so grouchy. I overheard him telling Rita and Wallace that I need a “distraction.” He’s not wrong. Especially when I get another text from my canker sore of a cousin Patrick. If you forgive me, I can move back from Vegas. I hate it there, cuz.
Good. He should hate it there. The rest of the family had a big meeting after Patrick’s charges were dropped by the district attorney. Not enough evidence or some bullshit. Granddad basically said Patrick had to leave, or the whole family would fall apart. So he sent him to Las Vegas to live with Granddad’s cousin Aleksandr.
Please, Dani. I’m sorry, okay?
I don’t know why I don’t block him, but I should. Maybe I like how miserable he sounds.
The doorbell rings. I’m closest, and already wondering if this is another stupid gift from stupid come-for-brains Edmund. Sure enough, a uniformed delivery woman stands on the stoop. I have to sign for a beautiful, magenta box. The sender is, of course, Edmund.
Rita gasps when I carry it into the kitchen. “No freaking way.”
“What?”
“That’s from Baciarvita.”
“And?” I find the kitchen scissors and start hacking at the luxurious black ribbon.
Rita shakes her head of curly red hair and snatches the scissors from my hand. “And one does not stab a box with a Baciarvita bag inside it. Here.”
I stand back, amused, as she delicately cuts through the ribbon. She hovers her hands over the top of the box as if she’s saying some kind of blessing.
“What are you doing?” I ask, laughing.
“Dani, this is serious. Baciarvita means ‘to kiss life.’ It means the world. Heaven. Everything.” She sighs, all melodrama. “You have, in this box, the kind of handbag I’ve dreamed of for my entire adult life.”
“Then it’s yours.”
“What?” She squawks. “No. You can’t give this kind of thing away. You—you haven’t even seen it!”
“Easy decision.” I shrug and walk toward my bedroom. “I don’t want it. I don’t even want to see what it looks like.”
Rita gasps and keeps repeating, “I couldn’t. No way.”
But I bet, eventually, she’ll cave and start using the bag.
Troy
