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6

Mercedes

With the assistance of a few more glasses of wine, we fall into a much less stilted conversation during dinner. Judge is mostly a silent observer from his seat, his fingers trailing over my shoulder as my friends pepper me with questions and then catch me up on the latest happenings in their own lives.

They explain how they’ve been trying to bring attention to my disappearance but have been blocked at every turn. Their inferences don’t escape my notice. If they didn’t believe I was connected to some type of powerful organization before, this seems to confirm it.

“I mean how the hell do the police just make something like that disappear?” Solana questions. “Then there are the lawyers. What kind of lawyer turns down money? And don’t get me started on the private investigators we hired. One of them just seemed to evaporate into thin air.”

I dart a glance at Judge, and he squeezes my shoulder in a silent warning that now isn’t the time to talk about that. He can’t seem to stop sizing up Georgie, and I know that’s what’s been on his mind throughout dinner as he observes us.

“How is business?” I ask Georgie and Solana, trying desperately to change the subject.

“Fine.” Solana waves her hand dismissively. “We’ve been too focused on you to worry about that.”

“When can we see you again?” Georgie meets Judge’s gaze as he directs the question to me. “Outside of this house. Everyone misses you at aerial class.”

Judge’s fingers stop moving against my shoulder, and I hate that I’m waiting for him to speak, but there’s no point in trying to supply an answer myself.

“She can come as soon as she’s feeling up to it,” he says. “I’ll take her personally.”

This really seems to irk Georgie, but Solana is trying to read between the lines.

“What does that mean, when you’re feeling up to it?”

“It’s nothing.” I shrug half-heartedly. “I’ve just been a little under the weather.”

Again, Judge’s hand tenses on me, and then he gently massages my shoulder as if he’s trying to give me some sort of silent apology. Georgie and Solana don’t miss it, their eyes lasering in on the action.

“Are you guys together?” Solana asks.

“No,” I answer at the same time Judge says, “Yes.”

I glare at him, and he shrugs. This interaction only seems to confuse Solana and Georgie more.

“It’s nothing serious,” I tell them through clenched teeth. “Judge doesn’t do serious, isn’t that right?” I shoot him a look that betrays my annoyance. “He can have his fun, and I can too.”

The gentle stroke of his fingers turns to stone as he drags his palm to the nape of my neck and squeezes. I smile as Solana clears her throat awkwardly.

“Good, then I guess that means you can resume date nights with me,” Georgie challenges.

Oh, shit.

I offer him a nervous laugh, but the tension radiating from Judge serves as a warning I need to wrap this up before he changes his mind about everything.

“Let’s circle back to that another time.” I force a yawn. “It’s getting late, and I know we all have to be up early.”

They both look dismayed by that statement, knowing I’m typically a night owl.

“What do you have to be up early for?” Solana asks.

“She has a long day of riding tomorrow,” Judge supplies, his tone dripping with overt insinuation.

“Riding.” Georgie scoffs.

“Yes.” Judge looks at me, his gaze scorching. “She loves to ride.”

Oh, God, this is getting out of hand.

I stand abruptly, tossing my napkin onto the table. “Yes, well… shall I walk you to the door?”

Reluctantly, Solana and Georgie rise from their seats.

“What about your number?” Georgie asks. “Can’t forget that.”

“No, we certainly can’t.” Judge grouses as he removes a slip of paper from his pocket and makes a point to hand it directly to Solana.

After that awkward standoff, they both begrudgingly thank him for dinner, and I walk them to the door as promised.

“Are you sure you’re okay here?” Solana asks. “You can come with us.”

“We can protect you too,” Georgie assures me. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”

“I’m okay.” I offer them both a grateful smile, warmed by their genuine concern for me. “But thank you for the offer. Don’t forget to text me.”

“Girl, I’m texting you before I even leave the driveway,” Solana jokes. “And I wasn’t kidding. If I don’t hear from you, I’m coming back.”

I nod. Even though I probably should tell her not to, I can’t bring myself to do it.

“I love you guys,” I whisper.

“We love you too.” They squeeze me in another long hug, and after more quiet tears, I reluctantly usher them out the door, staring at them until Judge’s presence behind me makes me shiver.

“You did well.” He strokes my hair over my shoulder, his tone approving.

I pull away from him and turn around, crossing my arms as I glare at him.

“We’re together, Judge? Really? Why would you tell them that?”

His silent response only irritates me further, and I think that’s all I can expect from him, but then he surprises me.

“I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

“Oh, my God, you are such a fucking hypocrite.” I laugh caustically. “As if you didn’t tell me you’re out every night with another woman. Do I need to remind you I don’t belong to you? That isn’t my purpose for being here. You don’t fucking own me.”

“Yes, I do,” he growls.

Unbelievable. Seriously, un-fucking-believable. I turn to leave, and he grabs me by the wrist, dragging me back to him until my chest collides with his, and he tightens his hold on me, locking me in his arms.

“For now.” He breathes the words as if he regrets them. “You belong to me.”

“For now,” I choke on my reply. “I belong to nobody. Least of all you.”


Tags: A. Zavarelli The Rite Trilogy Erotic