I took the empty cup and walked over to the coffeepot. None of this mattered. My feeling things for him. Attraction or whatever was pointless. Even if I were into getting tied up and spanked, I was not in any place to have a relationship other than friendship with anyone.

  And he knew that.

  Once I was seated at the table with my coffee and plate of food, I heard the crunch of gravel that meant someone was driving up. I took my cup and went to look out the window. It was King. He was climbing down from his truck, and I watched as he walked toward the porch. I let out a sigh and waited until he knocked on the door before going to open it.

  I smiled at him through the screen door and held up my coffee. “Thanks for this. And everything.”

  He opened the screen, and I stepped back for him to come inside. “Figured you might wake up feeling shitty. Thought I’d help out.”

  I let out a small laugh, trying hard not to think about the fact that he’d seen me in my panties. My face felt warm regardless, so I turned and walked over to the table.

  “It’s been a while since I drank like that,” I admitted, sitting back down in my chair.

  “You weren’t a bad drunk. You didn’t even puke on me,” he said, his voice sounding amused.

  I lifted my eyes to meet his. “I fell asleep in your truck.”

  “Eh, so I had to take off your clothes. Get a look at you in your little pink panties. I’ve been forced to do worse things.”

  I bit my lip and dropped my gaze back to my plate. I really hoped he was joking and that seeing me in my panties wasn’t that bad. But I’d been married to a man who complained about my body and how I looked, so I was sensitive about it. Maybe Hill had been right. Maybe my hips were too wide and my thighs were too thick.

  “Rumor,” King said, and I looked back up at him, forcing a smile I didn’t feel. “You know I’m joking, right?” he said.

  I managed a nod. I had not known he was joking, but he seemed sincere. He wasn’t someone who I thought would point out a female’s flaws to her.

  He walked over and pulled out the other kitchen chair, then sat down, never taking his eyes off me. “Something in those eyes of yours is telling me you didn’t.”

  I wasn’t sure how to respond to this, and now that I had made it completely awkward, I simply stared at him. I had to think of something lighthearted to say or change the subject.

  “Fuck,” he muttered, then placed his elbows on the table and leaned toward me. “I looked at you way longer than I should have. I even ran my hand between your thighs. Was that morally grey, yes. But you’re too damn tempting. I held your shorts to my fucking nose so I could smell you. When I finally got home and in the shower, I had to jerk one out, thinking about what I had wanted to do to you, but hadn’t.”

  I sucked in air, realizing I had been holding my breath. Oh my God.

  He picked up my fork and held it out to me. “I shouldn’t have told you that, but I can’t stand the idea of you thinking I didn’t enjoy the view. Now, eat.”

  I reached out and took the fork, not sure I could eat. I was still struggling to take in oxygen properly. If I tried to eat right now, I would probably choke. Since he was watching me, I had no other choice. I gave the biscuit and gravy more attention than necessary as I used my fork to cut a piece off.

  “Maeme mentioned you hadn’t been there to do laundry. Thought you might need a ride to the big house. I could take you to exchange your books too.”

  I shook my head. “I washed my things in the tub yesterday and hung them out on the clothesline.”

  The mention of my books reminded me that Sebastian and I never made it to his library. The margaritas had played a hand in that.

  “Seriously? Why didn’t you call me or send me a text?”

  I lifted my gaze back up to his and shrugged. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

  He groaned, then leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Would you stop worrying about bothering me? Goddamn it, I gave you a phone for a reason.”

  Explaining to him that I had been trained not to bother a man because of Hill was hard. I didn’t like admitting it. The more I was away from the life I had been living, the more my eyes were open to just how brainwashed I had been. Hill had changed me completely. He’d taken away my personality. I had lost a part of who I had been, and I didn’t know how or if I would get that back. I could very likely end up in prison.

  “I will make a mental note of that,” I replied, then put a piece of biscuit and gravy in my mouth. If I ate, then perhaps he would leave. Having him watch me was making it difficult.

  “You do that. And don’t hand-wash your clothes again. I’ll be fucking insulted.”

  I nodded and continued to chew.

  “About what you said last night,” he started, and I swallowed, then shook my head.

  “No. We do not have to talk about that.”

  He sighed, and then a small grin played on his lips. “You called me mean and accused me of hurting women. I explained it, but you were drunk, so I wanted to make sure you remembered it and understood things.”

  I set my fork down beside my plate. “Yes, I understand. I’ve read Fifty Shades of Grey, like the rest of the world. It’s just…I guess, with what I’ve experienced, it makes that seem fictional to me. I never really considered people really liked that.”

  A deep rumble came from his chest, and he cocked an eyebrow at me. “Not the rest of the world. For the record, I’ve not read it. But I did see the movies. And that isn’t exactly what I do. I don’t have a special playroom, and I don’t keep a submissive. That’s too much commitment and work.”

  That confused me a little. I’d loved the books, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. They were better than the movies, but then that was always the case. The reason I had loved them was because of his commitment and the way he took care of her. He made it something I could understand her wanting. But if King wasn’t giving that to the females he did these things to, then why would they let him do it? Just because he was gorgeous?

  “I can see your mind working over there. Ask me. Say it,” he coaxed.

  I pressed my lips together for a minute and studied the table before meeting his gaze. “I was just trying to figure out what was in it for them. If you aren’t in a committed relationship and you don’t take care of them, protect them…” I trailed off, not able to find the right words to say this.

  He smirked. “Not everyone is looking for a commitment. Some of them just enjoy sex that way. What you read is a romance novel. It’s not reality.”

  No kidding. I’d already learned that men in books were better. The real kind let you down, betrayed you, hurt you. I much preferred the ones created from the mind of a female.

  When I said nothing more, he stood up and tapped the table twice with his knuckles. “Eat up. Rest. Text me or call if you need anything.”

  “Okay,” I replied, realizing I didn’t want him to leave. I had thought I did, but when he walked out, I wasn’t sure when I would see him again. Bad train of thought, Rumor. Very bad.

  He turned and headed for the door. Didn’t glance back once—and I would know. I watched him through the window, all the way to his truck, before looking back at my food.

  Picking up a piece of bacon, I ate it slowly, wondering about sex with someone other than Hill. Women seemed to enjoy it. Did sex with someone who was good at it make it better? Was sex with King so good that it was worth all the pain involved?

  • twenty-three •

  “I didn’t know you’d come down for playtime.”

  King

  Churchill Millroe barely lifted his head to stare at me through his swollen and busted face as I entered the underground cell he had been kept in for the past eight days. This wasn’t my first visit down to see him. I’d been the one to break his nose and all ten of his fingers—one by one—and pull out five of his teeth. The more brutal stuff had been Thatcher, but we’d all had a go at him. It was amazing how much torture the human body could withstand before finally giving up.

  “Kill me,” he begged—or at least, that was what I thought he’d said.

  It was hard to decipher after I took out so many of his teeth. But Thatcher had sliced off the tip of his tongue, and that really hindered his speech.

  He had stopped asking why, pleading for his life, his attempts at bribing, threatening—all the different phases a man went through while being strapped up and tortured. He cried silently most of the time now. I leaned a shoulder against the concrete column and crossed my arms over my chest as I studied him. This past week had been a living hell for him. It wasn’t nearly long enough. That was the only reason he was still alive. I wasn’t satisfied yet. I was wondering if I ever would be.

  The more I got to know Rumor and realized how he’d abused her so deeply, the more I found myself being drawn back down here. To make him scream in pain. Hear him wail and beg. If he hadn’t abused his wife, he’d probably be able to live. Sure, we would have taken his fingers or an ear. Maybe his balls. But once we had all our money, he’d have been set free. Living in fear for the rest of his life that we’d return, but still living.

  “She’s better. Smiling,” I told him. “She’s got the best damn laugh. I don’t get to hear it often, but when I do, it’s worth it.”

  I walked over to the pack of cigarettes that Thatcher had left and tapped one out of the package. I wasn’t a smoker. Not really. I had one every once in a while when drinking, but I didn’t need them.

  I was lighting one up because back when Churchill could still speak and wasn’t weeping all the time, he had shared his disgust with Thatcher’s smoke in his face. We all made sure to smoke down here. Leaving the air thick with the stench when we left. His eyes were almost closed from the battering, but I knew he was watching me. I smirked, then took a pull before walking over to blow the smoke directly in his face. He no longer winced. I doubted he had much control of his expressions anymore.

  “She stood at the top of the stairs, listening, when we came in your house,” I told him, smiling at the memory. “Sweet thing heard what we said to you. She knew you were in trouble. I didn’t let her see me watching her, of course. I didn’t want to scare her. I figured she’d already been through enough that day, seeing as her pretty face was all beat up.” I took the cigarette from between my teeth before I ended up biting off the tip.

  “Then, she hid. I didn’t check the closet in your bedroom because I knew that was where she had run to. I didn’t want to find her. She was fucking terrified. Hell, we weren’t real sure what to do with her. Would she call the cops when we left? Would she call 911? We had no idea.” I took a long pull and chuckled. “But, damn, I didn’t expect to see her running out of that house with a suitcase and speeding away. Leaving you bleeding out on the floor. I was so goddamn amused that I laughed for the first hour I followed her. The farther away she got, the more I liked her. She was a fighter. She had gotten a chance to escape you, and she took it. Good girl,” I said, praising her.

  He made a sound, or maybe he was trying to talk. I couldn’t tell. I didn’t give a fuck either. I leaned back on the column again and took a few pulls, watching him there. Barely breathing. Gasping every few minutes. It calmed the fury inside me when I thought of all he’d done to Rumor.

  “You had a prime piece of ass. She’s completely out of your league,” I told him. “Is that it? You knew she was too good for you? Could your pointless ego not handle it? Knowing men saw her and wanted her. Was it not enough that she’d married you?”

  “Thhhubid bish,” he spat out.

  I straightened and took three long strides until I was inches from his face. “What did you just call her?” I asked, taking the cigarette and shoving the tip into his eye as he began to scream.

  “Neither of those words apply to Rumor,” I sneered.

  “I didn’t know you’d come down for playtime,” Thatcher drawled behind me.

  I left the cigarette sticking in his eye as I turned to look back at him. “Figured he’d be dead soon. I wanted to get my fill.”

  Thatcher walked over to the cigarettes. “Please, continue. Don’t let me stop you. I’ll watch.”

  I nodded toward the plyers. “Toss me those.”

  Thatcher picked them up. “I hope you tucked in our sweet little Rumor the other night. Sebastian should have warned her Minna’s margaritas are three-fourths tequila.”

  I caught the plyers and grinned. “She was fine the next morning. I made sure of it before I left.”

  “Good to hear,” he said before sticking the cigarette between his teeth.

  When I turned back to Churchill, he was definitely looking at me, but with only one eye. The ash was jammed inside the other eye, and I could no longer see it. I wanted him to know she was enjoying life. Being taken care of properly. That while he was experiencing hell on earth before he burned in the real one, Rumor was starting anew.

  “They’re saying you drained your financial accounts and fled the country,” I told him. “No one knows where, and there is even speculation that you killed your wife and hid. She can’t be found either. Sweet Carmella Millroe’s beatings were found on the video surveillance you’d kept in your home. How arrogant was that? You knew it was recording your abuse, and you didn’t fear anyone would ever find it. But don’t worry yourself. We made sure both our visits to your house were wiped clean before anyone else saw the tapes. It’s even been said that your wife might have been the one who shot you and you killed her in revenge before fleeing. The nurse and cook who had been at your house when you escaped never saw who it was that tied them up. They can’t be sure if it was you or not.”

  A tremor ran through his body, and I wasn’t sure if it was from the pain or if it was from anger. He’d lost. He would die, and no one would know how or where. Rumor would get a new life. She could start over.

  “Now, open wide,” I demanded, jamming the plyers into his mouth and clamping down on one of the few molars left. “I wonder if you’ll even bleed that much this time. You’re so pale. Blood loss will do that to you.”

  Thatcher laughed from the stool he had taken a seat on across the room. “Finish with his teeth, and I’ll cut off his dick and shove it in his mouth.”

  This time, when Churchill Millroe’s body trembled, I knew it was from the fear.

  • twenty-four •

  “This escape from reality was over.”

  Rumor

  Sitting on the front porch with my last unread book, I was lost in the story and didn’t realize Maeme’s golf cart was coming down the path. She was already parking it when I noticed I had company. I closed the book and stood up to greet her.

  I’d not seen anyone since King had left two days ago. My plan was to finish the book, then text him to take me to Maeme’s library to get more. I had almost done it yesterday, but I’d admitted to myself I didn’t need to go yet. I was just thinking of an excuse to see him, and that wasn’t healthy. I couldn’t let my head go there. It was never happening.

  She waved as she walked up the little stone-paved walkway. “Good morning,” she called out. “Haven’t seen you in a bit and wanted to come see how you were doing. Thought you might be getting a little stir-crazy around here.”

  A few weeks ago, I would have thought that was an impossibility. The idea of staying alone out in the woods like this had seemed like heaven. But it did get a little lonely. Left to my own thoughts with no distractions could be dark at times.

  “I was going to text King and see if I could get a ride to your house to exchange some books later,” I told her.

  She put her hands on her hips and beamed brightly at me. “Well, good timing then. You can go get those books, and we will get you out of the house. Doc D is coming by later to see how you’re healing up. Figured if he gave you the all clear, you might want King to take you to the stables. Teach you to ride.”

  The thought of King taking me to the stables instantly gave me an image of what King had been doing at the stables the last time I was there. Trying to think of anything but that since I was standing in front of his grandmother, I blurted, “Sebastian promised to do that.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “Did he now? Well, he always was a smart one. He’s back in Vegas, but he’ll be returning in a few days. Reckon your riding lesson can wait until then if you prefer he teach you.”

  Sebastian didn’t rattle me the way King seemed to. I was comfortable with him. I wasn’t sure I could focus enough on riding with King present, and I’d probably do something stupid and fall off a horse.

  “I can wait until he returns,” I replied.

  Amusement flickered in her eyes, and I hoped she wasn’t thinking I was interested in Sebastian as more than a friend. She was aware I would never do anything to put them in danger or get them mixed up in my messed-up life.

  “Very well. Go on then and get the books. We can go on back to my house. I’ve got a warm lemon Bundt cake just sitting there, waiting on us. A glass of sweet tea and some cake in the sunroom will be nice. You can tell me all about your night over at the Shephards’.”

  I widened my eyes, surprised by the fact that she knew I’d been over there.

  She chuckled at my expression. “Don’t a thing happen in this family I don’t know about. I got to keep this machine running smooth.”

  Her response was odd, and I thought about it as I went inside to grab my books. This was by far the strangest family I’d ever met. I guessed it made sense that they were all close, seeing as they were in business together and had been for generations. The way it all worked though, I felt like I was missing something. Even if I were, it wasn’t like I should be told all the ins and outs. They were the ones helping me, not the other way around.