Page 31 of The Knight (Endgame 2)
“That’s right,” he says, voice tight. “Oh fuck, you’re perfect.”
Something moves by my face, and I realize it’s his fist. He’s stroking himself, groaning as if in pain so soon after coming, unable to help himself.
It’s the spray of hot come across my cheek that triggers my own climax. I bear down on his leg, moaning with the weight of my own debasement. Pleasure sparks everywhere that he touches me—between my legs, knee pressed between my breasts, the tip of his cock sliding against my cheek. I’m made of some other material, inhuman, alight by the things that should disgust me. This man, his treatment of me. The unbearable beauty of surrender.
I’m floating in some otherworldly space. Reality can’t intrude in these four walls. It can’t penetrate this strange light. Distantly I hear the rustle and zip as he straightens his clothes.
Something small and white floats down in front of me.
Then he’s gone from the room. I don’t hear his footsteps, but I feel his presence disappear. The force of him, gone. I’m alone here. Again.
Slowly, carefully, as if recovering from a great blow, I wipe my cheek. His come is sticky and cooling against my fingers. A handkerchief. That’s what he dropped at my knees. I look at the fine fabric, probably imported Italian silk. Monogrammed with the letter M with intricate scrollwork. I use it to wipe him from my skin before tossing the fabric in a small wastebasket in the hall. Discarding it like trash, the same way he left me.
As I descend the steps, I can see that the pawn isn’t on the bottom step anymore.
Instead there’s something rectangular. A book. Small. Leather-bound. My heart beats faster. I stumble the last steps until I can pick up my mother’s diary. I hold it close to my chest, throat tight. I don’t know how he got it back, whether he kept it all along or bought it from the auction winner. He teases me and toys with me, he demeans me and degrades me, but all I feel right now is gratitude. If he hadn’t guaranteed the money in the escrow account, I wouldn’t have been able to attend the auction. If he hadn’t sent the limo early so I would have time in the house, I would never have found the diary. And if he hadn’t caught me in his web, I wouldn’t have the answers inside.Chapter EighteenThe next morning I visit my father, and the nurse gives me a genuine smile. “He’s been awake on and off. I imagine you’ll be able to talk to him today.”
My heart thuds in anticipation. He used to be my rock, my sole family member after the loss of my mother years ago. And he never remarried—never wanted to, that was how much he loved her. So it was just the two of us, playing chess or hosting society events in the ballroom. Now here we are—me living out of a cheap motel, him bedridden on the charity of his sworn enemy.
“Daddy, can you hear me?”
His eyelids flutter, but after a moment he goes still again. Sleeping. Disappointment wars with relief inside me. I desperately want my ally back, my family, but I know that even he can’t be that. He needs me to give him support. He doesn’t have any left himself.
I leave the book of history on the table and pull out the diary. I stayed up late last night, reading from the beginning. One story of her and Nina Thomas sneaking out of a coming-out ball to take a canoe across the lake had me giggling through my tears. She wasn’t quite as proper of a lady as I was told, but that only makes me love her more.
She longed for adventure before she settled into her role as a society wife.
I flip through the pages filled with her elegant, now-familiar scrawl.
And the man I truly want has no money, no standing. No chance of winning my hand. We both know that it’s impossible, but the heart doesn’t believe in boundaries.
Who was this mystery man? Did my father ever know him?
I flip ahead to a part I haven’t read yet, where she’s engaged to Daddy, and read aloud.
“‘Mother wants the best of everything. The flowers. The cake. Anything less will seem like we can’t afford it, and that would be vulgar. Of course the truth is that we can’t afford it, but Geoffrey graciously agreed to cover everything. He says we’ll share everything in a few months anyway.’”
That sounds like Daddy, incredibly generous. Completely in love.
Whatever happened with the mystery man, it hadn’t changed her decision.
“‘It seems like there’s a party every week. Officially I attend with Mother, and sometimes Father, but I always know that Geoffrey will be there. He does make me laugh.’” A smile touches my lips. “You make me laugh too, Daddy.”
