Page 19 of Risky Fight

“I don’t know, I think it’s family time. I am not family.” Nolan puts his bread down on the plate and stares at me.

“Neither are the aunties. Roark says they are stepfamily and not his real sisters. If they can swim, you can too.” The kid logic is sound, but reality is another story all together. I doubt I will be leaving this house, not soon anyway.

“Maybe next time.” I try brush it off, not wanting to explain to him I don’t work here, I am a prisoner. The sound of Roark arriving home echoes down the halls, and when Nolan hears him, he jumps off his chair and runs to greet him. The boy is desperate for his attention and approval because he has no one else.

“Swimming!” he squeals as he runs full steam towards Roark, who bends down and embraces him in a hug. There’s something so attractive about the way he loves his son, it makes him even harder to hate.

“Yes, your aunties are outside waiting to take you. I have work to do,” he says and the little boy’s face falls, “go get your things quickly.”

“Can Lou come with me?” he asks, looking back to where I am standing in the kitchen doorway. Roark looks at me, and I already know the answer to the question.

“I need Lou here to help me with some grown up things,” he says, “go get your bag, we’re keeping the ladies waiting.” He’s gentle but firm with his son. Roark stands up and Nolan whizzes past me to get his bag, on his way back out the door I get a hurried,

“Bye, Lou.” But it’s lost because Roark and I have our eyes locked, he’s sending the boy away so he can deal with me — and looks less than happy about it.

“Bye, have fun,” I call after him, and when the door shuts, I am alone with Roark. Nothing and no one between us, my heart races. Wiping my clammy palms on my shorts, I wait for whatever is about happen. We stand there, ten paces apart, in silence for a long time before he speaks to me.

“I brought you some clothing, go get changed. You look like a whore running about in my shorts with your stomach showing like that.” His voice is sharp, and his words cut me. There’s a self-consciousness I haven’t ever felt before, a shame that makes me want to hide myself away. He looks through me, as if I am not even there. The air in the house turns ice cold even in the summer heat. “When you’re dressed come find me in the office.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and walks away.

I feel winded, like someone kicked me in the ribs and stole the air out of my lungs. When I eventually force my lungs to function again, I go to the bedroom where the bed is covered in shopping bags. Expensive shopping bags, from stores I have never even been into — things you see the Kardashians wearing on the telly. I could probably pay my rent for a year with one item.

It feels wrong to put such expensive clothing on without showering first, but I fear testing his patience by taking too long isn’t a good idea tonight. Instead, I just wash my hands and face quickly, then open up the bags to see what he has chosen to dress me in. I never wear fancy clothes, I work in a gym, I wear leggings and trainers twenty-four-seven.

The first bag is all underwear, and dresses — like I’d wear a dress. I roll my eyes and shove them back into the bag. The next one is slightly more promising with some jeans, cute tops and a denim skirt. Without thinking too much I pull on the skirt, and a soft baby-blue V-neck t-shirt. I tighten my ponytail and look in his enormous mirror. I look okay — better than boxers and a shirt.

There are voices coming from the other side of the house, and I wonder who is here. Maybe my stupid brothers have paid up and I can go home. Maybe that is wishful thinking. The office is at the far end of the house, away from the noise and hustle of little people and staff. Two massive dark wood doors close to off from the home. The one is slightly ajar, and I pause, listening to men talking inside. Roark is talking in a flat, serious tone that isn’t loud but would scare the life out of anyone who heard it.

I’m not sure if I am supposed to go inside, who I would be interrupting, so I just hover there waiting for the courage to knock on the door. As I lift my hand, before my knuckles can rap on the wood he says, “Come in Lou.” I jump slightly, put my hand down and push the door open. “Hello, honey.” His voice is venomous and laced with pure evil. “We have a visitor.” I turn to see Will sitting the wingback chair, his skin is white and it looks like he is sweating bullets. I’m standing between the two of them, and I have no idea what I am supposed to do. I want to hug Will and apologize, but I am afraid if I do that Roark might kill him on the spot.

Looking from one to the other, there’s no good choice. “Hi, Will,” I stammer out as he looks me up and down. I never dressed up for him — he got what he got. “It’s nice to see you.” I hope he doesn’t do anything dumb, he hasn’t the faintest idea who he is dealing with.

“Come sit with me,” Roark says patting his lap, calling me like I am his pet, “we were just talking about a business proposal your brothers asked him to bring to me.” Nothing about that sounds good to me. My brothers are idiots and Will looks so scared he might shit his expensive suit pants. “A payment arrangement they think will suit all of us.”

I hesitate, but go over and sit on his lap, watching Will swallow down the jealousy. His eyes look sad when they meet mine and when Roark puts a possessive hand on my thigh, he diverts his gaze.

I’m in the middle of a power play between the two men in my life — past and present. “The boys have nothing to pay you with,” I say, because I know they don’t and this sounds like them getting into even deeper shit. I frown and look over at Will and still he can’t look me in the eye.

“No, they don’t have any money, Lou,” Roark says, sliding his hand further up my leg, brushing the hem of my skirt while he stares at Will. “They are in deep, and not just with my family.” Fuck, fuck — they are so stupid! “But Will here, being the good accountant and financial guy he is, brought forward a proposal. We have worked out an offer and the boys have agreed to my terms.” His terms?

“What are the terms?” I dare ask, Roark pulls my skirt up so Will has view right up underneath it. He’s trying not to look, his eyes darting around the room looking anywhere but there. I am fighting my own urge to jump up off his lap, to shove Roark’s hands off me. But this isn’t about me, Roark is putting Will in his place. Staking his claim, and making sure he has no competition.

“You,” Will stutters out, “you are the terms.”

“The fuck I am.” It slips out, and as it does, Roark slides his hand over my panties rubbing my clit. He’s pinned me to him now, and I can’t escape. I move my ass and it only excites him — making his cock so hard I can feel it poking me in the butt.

“Listen to what Will has to say, Lou,” Roark says into my ear, his breath tickles me and his teasing doesn’t stop. He’s putting on a show, peeing on me like a dog marking his territory. His ego needs to be stroked so everyone knows he is the most powerful man in the room. “I think it’s an amicable arrangement.” Then I definitely won’t like it.

Will clears his throat as Roark strokes my clit with more pressure, making it hard to focus on anything other than his touch bringing me close then keeping me on the edge. “Your brothers,” Will coughs again and pulls at his tie, “have proposed a settlement arrangement. In exchange for their debt being cancelled, you will be married to Roark.” That makes me snap out of my almost orgasmic stupor and sit up straighter than I was. Married? They have all lost their fucking minds.

William looks like he is wishing the floor would open up and suck him under, Roark still has his hand up my skirt and I can’t even find the words to protest this shit. “Both families have come to an agreement, and this is the best possible—” Will stammers, closes his eyes, takes in a breath, “outcome for everyone.” Except him. This is hurting him, and I know Roark did that on purpose. He is jealous I found someone to move one with — double standards from the man who has a son with someone else.

“Who is everyone?” I eventually find my voice, “how is this the best outcome for me, for you Will? What the fuck, you assholes think you can sell me off to settle a debt?”

“Lou,” Roark says, tightening his grip on me, sensing I am going to try get up, “calm down.” He pours gasoline on the fire of my rage. They do not get to decide my life, I am not a commodity they can trade.

“I will not,” I try pull away from him, but he holds me so I can’t, “marry you or calm the fuck down. This is ludicrous, what part of I hate you did you not understand, Roark? Making me marry you isn’t going to stop me hating you.” I had got comfortable with being his prisoner, being his wife is another thing. It implies I want this — him — and I don’t want any of it.

“You don’t hate me, Lou, your panties wouldn’t be soaking wet if you hated me.” He is so crass, and I loathe that he is right. About my knickers, not about me not hating him. “I have already said yes and written off the money they owe. It’s done, so you will honor this agreement, Lou. Because if you don’t, I will have to find ways make you.”

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