A lot stood in their way. Visa issues, family drama, a forced return to China, and minimum wage jobs fighting to support big dreams. But they made it through all of that to marry and start a family, and one day, Marjorie woke up and her husband was unmoving beside her. He died of an aneurysm in his sleep at thirty-six years old.
Arsenio pushed inside what I assumed was his bedroom. All the family photos and personal touches were outside. This room was a bed, desk, couch, television, and white walls.
I moved to the bay window. “Nice view. I can see over the square and straight to the university from here.”
He grunted. “You said you were packing something worth my time.” Arsenio dropped on the couch—his long, powerful legs spread out as he reclined. “Let’s see it.”
“Any chance we’ll be interrupted?” I drifted away from the window, stopping just in front of him.
“Our illustrious mayor is at the hall all day, then she’s got a dinner with friends in Hunter’s Crest.” His brows rose up his forehead. “You trying to find out what happens if you make me ask again?”
The corner of my lip rose up. This was the Arsenio I knew. His beauty as sharply honed as his coldness.
“You don’t have to ask.” I shrugged my pack on the floor. “Just be patient while I do the prep work.”
Holding his gaze, I tugged the halter strings of that day’s short, slinky dress, and didn’t miss his fingers flexing on the couch as my dress fell around my hips.
Legend told me often that my breasts were perfection. Actually, since I fell into the tender arms of the Bedlam Boys, I’d been assured of my beauty in many naughty ways. I wasn’t sure if I saw myself as the silky-haired vixen they named me, tempting them by walking into a room.
That is until I watched Arsenio’s carefully built walls crumble at the mere sight of me. I hope it didn’t give me a big head to say I felt pretty beautiful then.
I wiggled out of my dress and kicked it over to him. He didn’t react when it landed on his lap. Neither did he move to my thong dropping on top.
Bending over, I slowly unzipped my bag. The guy liked me teasing and seducing him. No matter what he said, this would take his mind off Jeremy and the Crows.
I pulled my latest buy out of my backpack. Credit to his expert control of his emotions, a slight twitch of his brow was all that gave him away.
“Turns out this is a real thing.” I slid my new red butt plug tail between my breasts. Dangling from my fingertips were the matching ears. “Ordered them last night. Gotta love one-day delivery.”
Arsenio could’ve been chipped from stone, he was rock hard, stiff, so nothing stopped me from straddling him. I smoothed my hands down his chest, dropping kisses on his nose, cheek, and lips.
“So,” I purred. “My owner needs cheering up, and as his faithful pet, I’ll do my job till I get it right.” My tongue darted out, licking the tip of his nose. “Do you want to help me get into character? Or you can sit back and watch. The choice is yours... master.”
A low, feral growl leaked through his teeth.
“Do not move.”
I opened my mouth to ask what was wrong and found myself dropped on the couch and staring at his back till it walked out. If this was a good or bad reaction, I couldn’t tell with Arsenio, but he told me to stay, so I’d stay.
My reflection caught my attention in the mirror across from his bed. I eyed the young woman naked and rocking sex gear, waiting for one of the inscrutable delinquents that were currently passing her around, and I tried to imagine her in boots and jeans, mucking around in the chicken coop.
Look at the images, tell me what doesn’t belong.
I couldn’t reconcile those two pictures. Not when I knew the twists, turns, and tragedies that brought that girl to me.
If I hadn’t lost Gran, that seed of hatred wouldn’t have taken root in my soul. If I hadn’t chased Ivy away, bitterness and regret wouldn’t have watered it. If the Letter Man hadn’t crashed into my life, blood wouldn’t have opened its leaves, transforming into a darkness that claimed half my soul, and called out to the Bedlam Boys.
This is who I am now.
I looked away from the mirror.
And I can never go back.
The hinges creaked.
Arsenio filled the entrance, holding a length of cloth in one hand. It looked like a belt for a bathrobe. I couldn’t make out what he had in the other.
“You’re impossible to categorize, Rainey de Souza. In anyone else, this would upset me.” He stretched the belt out. “I’d feel the urge to fix them. Order them. Remind them their chaos would always be second under my command.”