Page 266 of Ashes of Sin and Stardust

I was doing a lot of mental work with Alice. We started every morning with a ritual, which seemed to help get her going in the right direction. She took a shower and then brought me the belt, asking me to put it on her. I locked it on and kept the key around my neck, kissed her wherever I felt like it that day, and made her admit that she was mine. Then she made our coffee, sat with me during breakfast, and wrote in her journal while I ate.

I tried to keep her busy during her day, but with the opening of the restaurant I was struggling to have the mental brain space to think through tasks for her. I gave her busywork in the form of going to The Lounge and helping Noah take inventory or sending her on a wild goose chase to an out-of-the-way grocery store for a jar of a rare condiment that was hard to find. Sometimes I had her read a book and prepare to talk about it with me, other times I gave her a little bit of cash and sent her shopping for an hour to find something pretty to destroy that night.

But her favorite thing was visiting The Weston House and chatting with some of the new girls. She visited almost every day now and got in the habit of eating lunch with them. She would talk to them, keep the shy introverted ones company, and relate to them in a way that I never could. Even the ones who didn’t talk seemed to enjoy her presence, and Alice enjoyed being there and talking to people who would listen.

Our evenings, once I returned home at the ungodly hour of midnight or later, consisted of her telling me about her day, and me doing the same. I always brought her leftovers or a meal I’d cooked at the restaurant, or sometimes she went to The Lounge to eat. Sometimes she would vent until she was practically shaking, other times she was oddly depressed even though everything she’d said about her day sounded wonderful. Most of the time she was just happy to see me and was incredibly horny and tired.

After she ate, we would sit on the couch and I would slowly coax her into trance. She loved the slow melting away of her troubles, of her emotions, of all the thoughts in her head. Most of the time it worked surprisingly fast. Sometimes it took a little longer, but we always got there in the end. Then I’d scoop her up in my arms, tuck her into bed, and watch her fall asleep.

We had planned to go back to Cullowhee for a few weeks off at the end of the week, but then shit hit the fan, and one of the new chefs tore a ligament in his arm and needed a few weeks off. Not willing to let the restaurant suffer during its first week open, I had no choice but to set things aside and go in and cook for a few hours a day, at least until we found a temporary replacement. This set back our return to the mountains by at least a week, maybe more.

Alice didn’t seem bothered by the off-putting of our return. “This is my home, remember? I’ve lived in this city for ten years. I know Cullowhee is home for you, but this is home for me. I’m chill with it. Plus, I’m teaching Rachel how to play card games and she’s getting really good at it!”

One Tuesday evening, I managed to get home at a reasonably early hour of seven o’clock. Alice, usually naked –or close to it– was currently wearing a leather mini skirt, a dark blue tank top, and had her hair up in a ponytail, her long silky tresses curled and full, her bangs framing her huge dark blue magical eyes that seemed to drag me in.

I went to her with the intention of pulling her into a hug, but hesitated, because she was wearing her “brat face.”

Great. I finally have an early night and a chance to properly punish her ass, and she’s going to be obnoxious. Tentatively I asked, “What...”

She shrugged. “Nothing, Sir.” She turned and sauntered away, rocking her hips.

“What, I don’t get a hug?”

“You smell like gravy!”

I lifted my arm to smell my shirt. She wasn’t wrong. But she’d run into my arms pretty much every other day, so I had a feeling she was just being bratty. I went after her, grabbed her by the shoulder, spun her around, and pressed her face into my shirt, holding her there while she squirmed.

“Tough, you’re not getting away until I get my hug!”

“Let go of me, old man!”

“Uh-oh, name calling. We have a rule about that, don’t we?”

“Ugh, only in public!”

I wiggled my fingers into her ribs until she jerked and squirmed, pushing and shoving me to try to get away. Smirking, I let her go. “I’m going to change and take a shower. You are going to be out here on your knees waiting for me when I come back. Understood?”

“Why,” she said, catching her breath. Her eyes were bright, and she couldn’t hide her grin. “Why would I do that?”

“One, because I said so. Two, because you want to. And three... because I’ve had a long day with a lot of bullshit, and I fully intend to take it out on you.” I winked as I quoted a certain bratty comment she’d thrown at me several months ago.

She fought to hide her grin, snottily rolled her eyes, and rocked her hips as she walked away. “Whatever you say, Sir.”

After my shower I returned to the living room hoping to find her. She was there alright, but was still dressed, and was laying on the couch on her back, playing with a Rubik’s cube. I put my hands on my hips and glared at her.

“Were my instructions unclear to you, little fox?”

She worked to hide a smile, and said, “No, Sir. I just don’t want to.”

“You don’t want to.”

“Right. That’s what I said.”

“Ah. What if I said–”

Something caught my eye that was a little out of the ordinary. Her cell phone wasn’t tucked into her pocket, or beside her. Instead, it was propped up on the mantle above the fireplace, the screen facing away from us, as if she were... recording.

The little snot was bratting me for likes.

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