Page 32 of Penny
“You look good in this room, but you would look better in my own,” Liam rasped from behind me, making me jump and turn around.
“I’m sorry. I forgot you were staying in here,” I blurted, stepping toward the hall. He stepped sideways, blocking my escape.
“You can stay here for a while. Connor is busy with work,” he insisted, staring down at me. The flecks of amber flickered in his eyes, and my blood ran cold. “You said earlier you could draw Connor’s portrait. I haven’t seen you do anything like that before.” He took a step closer to me, making my breath lodge in my throat.
“Uhm, I draw everything. I’m not picky,” I stammered, trying to find warmth to heat the ice pumping through me. It must be his stare that was making me all choked up. If it wasn’t that, then I would have to admit I was imagining his pierced cock.
“But what do you like to draw?” he pushed.
“The darkest parts of the world,” I whispered, knowing he would understand that drawing them wouldn’t be a stretch from what I normally drew. Describing what I designed was more complex than words I could give. “What do you like to do to escape? I know Connor plays guitar, but what do you do?” I asked, not wanting to be the only one under scrutiny.
“I like things to be organized and to always have a plan,” he answered, taking another step closer to me. The heat of his chest radiated into me, but it didn’t unfreeze my limbs.
“I said, what you do to escape, not what you like to have,” I retorted, accepting the coldness like it was a hot day in the New York City summer.
“They are the same thing. If you have order, you don’t need to escape,” he asserted.
“Everyone needs a place to escape. Even when your life is what some call perfect. Even the most wealthy and elite people need to break away from the world,” I insisted, taking a step closer of my own accord. If this was a tug and pull conversation, I wanted to be on the winning side. My nipples pressed against the fabric of my top as I leaned into his muscular build.
“Could an escape be a person?” Liam coaxed, tucking my hair behind my ear, sending a trickle of electricity dancing on my skin.
“It can be whatever you want it to be,” I whispered, trying to not make this about me. He had a number of women, and it could be that girl Candice from dinner. He has been different since that night. Maybe he was hurting?
“The desire you showed earlier tonight would make the strongest man travel the world ten times over. All for a chance to see you come undone, like I did. But they wouldn’t make it around one time before I slit their throat.” He kissed the top of my head and walked out of the room, leaving me with his lingering smell and a thudding heart.
Chapter 18
Connor
The road noise didn’t dull out the shitshow I was in. My head was in a washing machine, slamming against metal, and the constant rubbing on my temples didn’t reprieve anything. The paperwork for prostituting the girls into the hotel had a small error. It was minuscule, but it could be enough to have the feds poking around our town. We only had them filled out to secure a false traceback if it were to go down. All signs on the contract would be putting the feds in the middle of Australia, making them suspect it was someone operating from there. Except for one line, and my shoulders were heavy as I read it over and over again.
No ownership of our property will belong to Motel Sunstrip. All rights belong toFILL IN TEMP LOCATION.
It wasn’t enough to directly trace back to us, but it was enough to keep them digging harder and looking for more holes. We ran a tight ship, but if I made this error, there could be others in our organization. If I were the one controlling this, I would round up all our workers to ensure they kept ratty traps closed. My control was stripped from me, and I had to report back to the man who regulated my entire life. Dear ol’ daddio and his loving personality. I would rather eat maggots than speak to him about this.
That was why I slept like shit, even with Emily next to me. I had to drive to his house and report what I’d found. If I didn’t, one of his minions sure would. It was just my luck that I would accidentally skip over something like this. Emily was at home doing God-knows-what, and Liam had gone into his porn studio to make sure everything was on the up and up. I guessed the Viagra wasn’t enough to keep it up and running.
I pulled into the wraparound cobblestone driveway, taking a huge sip of my coffee before getting out. Mornings were the devil's curse, and if it were anyone else, I would be meeting them late at night.
The front door was pulled open by the most tenderhearted butler in New York City, and I followed my usual trend, shoulder-checking the douche. Every ounce of pain I inflicted was a microscopic scrap of penance for all the bullshit he put me through growing up. His insistent need to lurk in the shadows to report to my father was manipulative. He would pretend to have sympathy for me afterward, patting my back like he wasn’t the one to find ways to report me. I probably deserved the beatings and manipulating games my father doled out, but my saint of a twin did not.
“Hey, Scrooge, where’s my father at?” I chimed, towering over his dwindling height. It must suck to get old and start shrinking. With how sour his stare was, I bet his dick had shrunk too.
“Office,” he replied, pretending to be polite.
I wanted to tell him it was just him and me, and he could give up the terrible charade he was playing but making him work was better than the little bits of pain I inflicted.
“Thank you,oh so much. Can you get me a water, kind sir? I’m parched,” I snarked in a shitty accent, narrowing my eyes.
He moved away from me at an agonizingly slow pace, and I made a mental note not to drink the possible spit water.
The walls were decorated with gaudy copper picture frames and mirrors. This house was antiquated, and it wasn’t only due to the antique collection scattered around the house like an old man lived here. My father was a lot of things, but he wasn’t old. He had us when he was twenty, wanting to start his empire as soon as possible. My brother and I were not his legacies but mere pawns, and I was advancing to D5 on the board. Which was his office, where he had all the control and I was in my weakest spot. We were constantly playing a game of chess in this fucked up family.
I knocked on the oak, uncrossing my arms and straightening my spine.
“Come in,” he barked from behind the door.
I pushed it open and stepped inside, inspecting the room for any surprises he might have had for me. Candice was in the corner of the room, kneeling naked, in front of the large redwood bookshelves filled with his antique book collections. Her shoulders bounced as she sniffled, and her greasy hair ran down her back. He didn’t care if the women sat in their own filth and smelled like shit. Growing up, he would fuck them covered in dirt and not give it a passing glance. The only reason I could formulate was that he did it because they were already dirty to him.
