Page 118 of The Loathing

“Can you not speak to my wife?”

“I’m here for her, no one else but her. That was part of the deal you struck with her father so I will speak to her whenever I want to.”

I hear Wolfe growl before responding, “You need to know your place.”

I freeze.

“I know my place, don’t try and intimidate me. I’ll snap you in two if I needed to. Touch her without permission, I will kill you myself,” Titus’ voice is low and my heart races in my chest.

“Empty threats.”

“Oh,” Titus chuckles, “they’re not empty, try it… I dare you,” Titus’ voice rumbles in his throat.

I slam my hands down on the table.

“Enough!” I look over my shoulder, my facial expression softening. “Titus, thank you… but I have this. I can look after myself,” I give him a gentle nod and he closes his eyes. Snapping my head to face Wolfe, I narrow my gaze on him. “I don’t need Titus making threats, I will kill you myself. Don’t you even think about touching me. Everything will be on my terms, not yours. I am not a woman you can just use when you want. I have worth, don’t think for a moment just because we’re due to be married that I am your property to do what you want with, it doesn’t work like that.” My tongue is sharp and I wait for him to respond but he says nothing. “Do you understand?” I raise my eyebrows and he nods.

“And you,” I look at Hunter, “I don’t like you, like, at all. Don’t think you can even look in my direction without my permission. When I am in the room with you, look at the floor, the wall, your dick for all I care. I do not want your beady, sleazy eyes on me, do I make myself clear?”

I hear Titus chuckle behind me, Wolfe sharing his own laughter.

“Understood.”

“Good,” I look back at my plate, my insides screaming with pride, “Oh and tell your cook I don’t like smoked salmon.” I push my plate away.

Wolfe whistles and a timid young man runs in. My eyes roam over him and his head is down the whole time until Wolfe clicks his fingers. My mouth drops open, my eyes wide at how he is treating this poor guy.

“He isn’t a dog,” I snap, my blood boiling. “Treat him with respect, how dare you,”

I stand in a rush, pushing my chair out and letting it fall back. “Hey,” I tip my head down so I can look him in the eyes and his hazel ones find mine. “Don’t let him treat you like that, you’re worth so much more,” I smile, reaching my hand out and touching the top of his arm. “What’s your name?”

“Arlo,” his voice is quiet.

“Arlo,” I repeat, as I nod and smile, “from now on you only answer to me, okay? I’m Amora.”

He stands a little taller and I drop my hand from his arm when I have Wolfe behind me, angry breathing down my neck but before I can turn round and deal with him, Titus pulls me out the way and stands tall in front of Wolfe, towering over him.

“Back the fuck up,” Titus growls.

“Don’t push me Titus, I wouldn’t think twice about putting a bullet between those pretty blue eyes.”

“You know full well I have full protection, you’re not allowed to touch me… part of the deal unfortunately for you.”

Wolfe continues breathing hot, ragged breaths out his nostrils.

“Come,” I wrap my arm round Arlo, “let’s leave these children and have a cup of tea,” I smile, walking towards the kitchen. “And Arlo, I say softly as we walk into the hallway, “please let your chef know that I don’t like smoked salmon. Scrambled eggs and the muffin will be adequate enough of a morning.”

Arlo nods and I feel my shoulders relax as the door closes behind us, leaving Titus, Wolfe and Hunter to sort their shit out.

* * *

Sitting at my easel, I slip my earphones in and let already gone – sleeping at last float through my ears and I find myself painting a peaceful ocean, crystal blues, turquoises and opals all mixed in with the odd frothy white wave break. A mix of emotions flood me, I miss my mother. I didn’t get to say goodbye and that’s a pain that no daughter should have to feel. All because of my father’s selfishness.

I’m sure Wolfe would let me see her, surely. If this is going to be my life, I’ve got to be allowed to see my family and friends. I was never given my phone back from Titus, I have no connection to what is outside these four walls.

I sit for a moment, gazing at the painting and it’s like I’m there. My feet buried into the warm sand, nothing but the sound of the waves kissing the shore, breaking into nothing but calmness.

I still don’t know how I got myself in this situation.

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