That snaps him out of it.
“When I give you a command, Pet, you obey. Do. You. Understand?” I ask in a deadly tone.
His nostrils flare, his eyes wild. His beast is hovering on the surface, and as much as I’ve been dying to see him, not just the glimpse I’ve gotten, now is not the time for that.
“Yes, Mistress,” he forces out through gritted teeth.
“Good. Now go inside. Evie has the girls under control. I need to help Sam.”
Neo tries to look back at Sam, but I tightly grip his face between my fingers. “Go!” I growl. He lets out a pissed off huff and storms towards the club, passing Axel and Dean who are watching the whole interaction.
“I'm getting drunk, and all of you can kiss my tight, fucking ass!” Neo shouts before disappearing into the club.
“I don’t know what's going on, but I’ll let you do what you gotta do. I'm gonna go see if Evie needs any help,” Cass says, looking a little uneasy about Sam, but gives me a tight smile.
“Thanks,” I smile back.
When he's gone, the others give me one last look before turning to follow Cass.
“I’m so sorry about that,” I say, turning back to Sam.
“I don't understand,” he whispers. “Why did you call him Pet? Do you...? Do you own him?” he asks, his eyes wide as he gives me a look of fear for the first time, and fuck, does it ever hurt.
“No. No, I don’t own him, I promise. Neo and I... we have a different kind of relationship. It's a little complicated to get into right now, but I can assure you, he is his own person, free to do whatever he wants.” Okay, that's not exactly true, but he doesn't need to know that right now.
“Sam, there's a lot you don't know and probably won't understand about me and this life that I’ve built,” I sigh, not sure how to explain to him that I’m a serial killer, or that how I’ve been with him is not like my normal persona.
“I heard Tracy call you Queenie?” Sam says, looking a little less fearful of me.
“Yes. That's what the world knows me as. Only the people I trust know my real name.”
“But you told me?” he asks, sounding confused.
I take one of his hands in mine, and he laces his fingers through mine. “You know how you didn't fear me, talked to me, and trusted me enough to get you out of there?” He nods. “Why did you do that?”
“I don’t know,” he says, brows pinching. “Something in me felt like it was okay. That, with you, everything was going to be okay,” he whispers.
I smile up at him. “Well, the first moment I laid eyes on you, I just knew I could trust you too. I want you to knowmehow everyone else that I trust knows me. How my family knows me.”
“I’ve heard of you before. Queenie, I mean,” he says, a bit of amusement laced in his voice.
“Oh god,” I groan.
“Is it true that you kill people for a living?”
I bite my lip. “Well, not for a living. More as a... hobby? I mean, I don't get paid for it.” I give him an awkward smile.
“I’ve heard the name Queenie mentioned in almost every place I was held. They acted like you were a joke, not to be feared, but I could tell it was all false bravado. Why would they fear you like that?”
“Because I put people like them down. Mostly rapists and abusers, but any kind of scum will do,” I shrug, not wanting to lie.
“So, would you ever hurt someone who didn't deserve it?” he asks.
“Never,” I say, strongly. “I don't hurt innocent people.”
“What about the people who are bad, but notthatbad?” he asks, tilting his head to the side as if trying to understand me.
“Oh well, I’d kick their ass of course,” I snort shamelessly. Sam grins.