Page 93 of Ensnared

“Notsuch a prude then after all,” he mocks.

Doesthat really need to be the first thing he’s said to me since beating up onJayk?Eventhen, he wasn’t really talkingtome.

Embarrassmentrocks me, and it follows a little too closely on the heels of today’s earlier humiliation.Hedoesn’t seem to be looking for a response, but the words slip out of me anyway.

“Ireally hate that word.Whyis it that when women embrace their sexuality they’re demonized as sluts, but when they don’t, they’re condemned as prudes and called frigid?There’sno winning.”

Flingingthe door open,Jaykobstalks through and plants himself in a chair without a word.Thedoor hits the wall with aclang, making me jump.Hedoesn’t look at anyone as he pulls out his knife again, not even at me.

Thelack of acknowledgement stings after we spent the whole day together yesterday—especially afterJasper—butIforce myself to push the feeling down.IknowJaykhad fun working with me.

Okay, “fun” might be a stretch.Buthe tolerated me yesterday.

Andthat was nice.

“Theangel or the monster, no?”Jasperstrolls into the dining room with a disdainful look at the still-swinging door, controlling it with a neat catch and closing it with pointed, deliberate care.WhichJaykobignores.

There’snot a hint of our earlier conversation on his face... except that tiredness.Thatseems like it’s there to stay.Hisdark gaze slides over me, coolly appraising, and he nods atBeaubefore moving to fix himself a drink.

“I—Yes.Exactly,”Istutter.Mypulse trips over itself, butItry not to seem too affected by him.

Itwould help if he lost that damnable cream sweater though.Itemphasizes his shoulders, theStygiandarkness of his hair.

It’stoo inviting for how closed off he is.

Thescrape ofDom’schair as he sits draws my attention.Hegives me an impatient look. “I’mnot demonizing anyone.Idon’t like hypocrites.Ifyou enjoy something, say so.Youfeel something, feel it.Peoplewho put a stranglehold on their lives because they’re too afraid to actually do what they want are pathetic.Andfrustrating to be around.”

“Nowain’t that the funniest thing,partner—Iagree with you completely,”Beausays in a sugar-sweet tone, andDomgives him a sharp glare.

Beausqueezes my upper arms, then tugs at my hand until we’re seated next to each other.Domis on my other side at the head of the table.Imull overDom’swords, cut by how aptly, how neatly, they slap a label on me.Asthough being polite and doing asI’mtold is somehow a failing, when they’ve made it clear thatI’mliving here at their mercy.Irritationpricks me.

OnedayI’mgoing to tell him to fuck off, andI’mnot going to be able to stop myself.

Andit might be soon, because my patience for just about everything is wearing thin right now.

I’mabout to respond—politely,Ithink—whenJaykobsnorts.Thesound startles me.Thelast two times we were all together, he hardly engaged with the others at all.

“Youdon’t know what you’re talking about.”Jaykrakes his eyes overDom, the sneer in his voice clear. “Noteveryone is lucky enough to just ‘do what they want.’Onlypeople with connected daddies get that luxury.Someof us actually have to make some tough choices and hold our tongues when rich assholes tell us to jump.”

Iclose my mouth and duck my head to hide a smile.Iforgot, for a moment, that the chip on his shoulder is at least as big as mine.

Dom’swhole body turns hard and threatening. “Thisyou holding your tongue?” he asks. “’Causeit needs work.”

Staringdarkly atDom,Jaykob’slip curls like he’s about to let loose.

Luckyenters with a fragrant platter of fresh roasted potato chips, then slows, tensing.Afterglancing around the room with new caution, he chooses a seat a watchful distance fromDomand far fromJayk.Calmand seeming bored by the altercation,Jasperbrushes pastLuckywith his drink—close enough thatLuckyhas to freeze so he can slide past—and the platter tumbles out ofLucky’shands.Itclatters across the table, spraying crispy potatoes and cuttingJaykoff mid-snarl.

“Cock-sucking, son of a—”Luckysucks his lower lip into his mouth, reaching for the overturned platter asJaspersettles into the chair beside him.

Surprised,Isit up and help him right the pieces back onto the board, looking at his pink cheeks curiously.Thatwasn’t like him; he’s usually so graceful.Wheneverything’s righted, he slumps back in his seat, shifting it back slightly and not looking at anyone.

Jasperhelps himself to a chip, unfazed, that cool, careful mask firmly back in place.Lucky’seyes drift to him, a crease between his brows.

Frowning,Ilook between them all, noting the tense, unhappy faces.

“Isit always like this?”IaskBeauin an undertone.

Hisgaze follows mine, and he shakes his head once.Needingto soothe my anxious tension,Ihelp myself to an extra chunk of cheese.

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