“You are, if I have to drag you back home myself.” My brother’s eyebrows rise in challenge.
“Try, I’ll stab you.”
Barren checks the knife I’m holding to cut the cheese then he rolls his eyes.
“You’re staying because of him, aren’t you?” I stare at him with a clueless expression. “Your boss. I saw the way you looked at him. I saw the way he was staring at us. Should I tell Father this as well?”
“Don’t you dare!”
“That’s what I thought. So, pack your shit and let’s go. I’ve let you play for long enough.”
“No. What’s so hard to understand about that word, Barren? No. I am not going back to that life, I like my life here.”
“Tell me what you hate about it? You’re basically a fucking princess.”
“That, exactly. You’ve just said it.” I point at him.
“You don’t want to be a princess?” He raises an eyebrow.
“No. I like working, and I like my life the way it is. And if you run to Papa again, I might just have to stab you.”
“He’s threatened to cut you off, you know.”
This I already know. Father rang and rang, and I refused to answer his calls, so I listened to his ranting and raving voicemails instead.
“I earn enough to support myself.”
Barren’s eyes float around my very flashy apartment. “Not this place, you don’t.”
“I’ll move.”
“You know that’s not safe, and you know you don’t do well in the dark.”
“I’ll get somewhere with heaps of lighting.”
Barren runs his hands through his hair. “I just want you safe. With us, you’re safe.”
My eyes turn down to the floor at his words. “I’m not. I feel safe here. Let me be, Barren.”
“You’re making this hard.” He starts pacing back and forth.
“I’m not. Stop seeing me as a young girl, and start treating me as a woman.”
“You are a woman, but you’re still that broken woman to me, Olympia.”
I shake my head at him and his words. “Don’t start, Barren, you promised.”
“All that blood, so much blood.”
“I said stop!” My voice echoes around my apartment as I yell at him.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“Go, please. I have to get ready for work.”
He reaches out for me, but I pull back and away from him. Hands shouldn’t touch me right now, I don’t want hands on me. I don’t care whose hands they are.
“Ring me if you need me. I’ll tell Father you’re safe. But Olympia…” he closes his eyes like he’s in pain and then reopens them, “… I will be back. You need to come home.”
“Leave,” I say again with more gusto, and this time he does.I go through the motions at the club, it’s a nice distraction. But it doesn’t work, not entirely. I wish it did.
“Olympia…”
I glance up to Darby standing at the end of the bar, his eyebrows scrunched as he watches me. “Yes?”
“I’ve been calling you for the last five minutes. Where are you right now?”
I check around to see a pile of orders on the bar. What have I been doing?
“I’m sorry, I’ll pay attention.” I turn to start getting the orders ready.
“Olympia…”
I turn again and notice he’s shaking his head. Darby doesn’t say anything, so I go back to what I’m doing. I manage to get two done, I think, before a set of hands cover mine, and when I look up, Darby’s standing in front of me holding both of my hands in his.
“Walk with me.” I don’t, but he pulls me anyway, keeping my hands in his. We step through the doors and up the stairs to his office. Once we reach his office, he shuts the door behind us and directs me to the couch.
“I have a lot to do,” I manage to say.
“Someone else is handling it.” Darby sits next to me, his hand lying on my thigh. “Are you okay?”
I nod my head then shake it. “No. I need to go home. I need…” I look around, not finding the right word, “… I need…” I say again, this time standing. He stands with me. “I need—”
Lips touch mine stopping my repeating of words, and then hands cover my back, gripping me and holding me to him as he assaults my lips. I take a deep breath and breathe him in. My hands grip either side of his shirt, gripping tightly and not wanting to let go.
I take it. I’ll take it all. Because he helps me forget. I can forget with Darby, and that’s all I need right now. My hands pull at his shirt, and we separate as I pull his shirt off, then my hands automatically go to my shirt, pulling it over my head. A sharp noise leaves his mouth when my breasts are freed, and I pull off my work skirt so it drops to the floor and all that’s left is my lace G-string. Stepping out of my skirt, I reach for him again, this time undoing his buckle and freeing his cock. He makes another sharp sound when my hand covers his cock, and I pump a few times before I find his lips.