Page 228 of Boyfriend of the Hour
Well, I didn’t choose it for the aesthetics. It was the potential for camouflage I liked.
“I need to get out of here,” I told Femi.
She looked up from the table where she was putting the finishing touches on her own makeup. “It’s locked. No way out.”
“What if there’s an emergency?” I asked. “We’re good cargo. They won’t want something to happen to us, right?”
Femi just shrugged. “You can knock and bang. But I don’t think no one will come, and even if they do, what will you do then?”
I strode up to the door. I could do this. Improv was just a different kind of performance, right? Even if I was scared out of my mind.
I had to knock five times before the door opened.
Not bad.
Even better was the face of the person who opened it.
“There’s my sunshine.” Shawn’s gold tooth made another appearance. “Looking like youshould. Turn around, baby. Let me see that ass.”
I wanted to resist. I wanted to slap him across the face like he had done to me.
But then I saw that look in his eyes—the familiar gleam that meant he wanted me back.
“Best-looking ass in the tri-state area,” Shawn commented as I obediently turned in a slow, seductive circle.
I peeked over my shoulder, the perfect coquette.
He practically drooled.
Gross.
But also, I wondered, how could I have been so stupid? Shawn was never going to let me go because I was dating another man. If anything, that was the most interesting thing about me. He had always wanted me more when others seemed to as well. I’d always thought it was connected to my value as a dancer, but now it was obvious it was really about anyone. If someone else found me valuable, Shawn did too.
Well, if Femi was to be believed, there was a whole party of other men who were going to bid to take me to bed in a few hours. Shawn had to know that, and I was going to use it.
And so the real play began.
As I turned back to him, I batted the fake eyelashes Shawn used to love so much. It never occurred to me back then why he liked to dress me up like a sex toy, but now I was wondering ifit was because I’d look like one of these girls. One of the ones he wanted for his own.
But something else was different too. For the first time, I didn’t feel that confusing twinge of desire for Shawn that I’d always felt, even in his worst moments. Even in mine. For the last decade, he’d had that strange hold on me, as though he’d shaped me into a person who would, if not love him, at least want him in some way. Even if it was just his approval I wanted. Like his desire for me was somehow the key to my completion.
But no more.
Something in that had broken in the last few months. Maybe it was Nathan. Maybe it was me. But as I looked at Shawn, the only thing I felt was harsh, cold clarity and soul-crushing disgust. He was never my friend. Never my boyfriend. Not even my lover, despite the things we had done. He was only a monster. A captor. A predator in his own right.
And I knew exactly what I had to do.
“Thank God it’s you,” I whispered, reaching out a coy hand to pet his chest. “I was hoping it would be you.”
Shawn looked down at my hand, then back at me. “Don’t try that shit with me, Joni. I’m not letting you out.”
He didn’t, however, move my hand.
“Please, baby,” I said as I unbuttoned the collar of his shirt and slipped my hand underneath, rubbing his tattooed skin. “I just needed to see you. You know…to say goodbye.”
Shawn frowned. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“I know what they’re doing.” I stuck out my lower lip, playing the spoiled baby he always said I was. The one everyone said I was. Except one.
