Debauched (Undone Book 3) (31 page)

“What are your rules?” I twist the tissue around my finger. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Not at all.” She taps her finger on her chin. “Well, I already told you the orgasm one. Anytime we go out he gets final say on my outfit, underwear and any other accessories he’s decided to torture me with that day.”

My mind flashes to the black plug, the way it moved when I walked, the way it made me wet.

“I can see you have at least a passing knowledge of that one.” She winks and her expression is ripe with amusement. “Where was I? Oh…okay. Any direct order has to be obeyed unless I have a damn good reason and lastly I have to answer any question about my feelings directly and honestly.” She waves a hand. “And that’s it.”

That doesn’t sound too terrible actually. And to Chad’s point, how far off is it from what I’ve been experiencing with him? Yesterday, when he’d talked about me rubbing against the dresser, the thought had both excited and embarrassed me in equal measure. If he’d pressed, wouldn’t I have done it? Liked it? I remember all the times I’d been with him where a moment would come and I’d lose myself, and the whole dirty wrongness took over.

I blow out a deep breath. “I have a lot to think about.”

“You do.” She smiles.

I tuck my hair behind my ear. “I need to tell you something.”

“Anything.”

It’s time I admit to her what’s been going on with me, even though she won’t be happy. “I owe you an apology.”

Her brows rise in surprise. “For what?”

I clear my throat. “I’ve been feeling jealous of you. I know it’s petty and wrong of me but I’ve been out of sorts for a while and didn’t want to talk to you because I felt stupid.”

She glares and me a runs a hand through her ponytail. “Why on earth would you feel jealous?”

I shrug. “I think I’ve just been clinging to the way things used to be. I didn’t want to change, and you were going on changing without me. I’m completely awed about how you pulled your life together, you’ve been through so much, and I couldn’t even manage to date a good guy. But I want you to know, I’m sorry. And I promise I won’t put distance between us again.”

“I wish I had known. I could have talked you out of being an idiot.” Layla hugs me tight.

I squeeze back, feeling a weight lifting off my chest. “I’m better now. It’s time to start making changes.”

We part and settle back into our respective seats.

I sigh. “It’s time to start making a life.”

Layla’s expression fills with hope. “With Chad?”

I want it. But I need to think too, to process our relationship without his intoxicating presence driving me so crazy. To let go of the past, my preconceived notions, and my judgments about what I should and shouldn’t want and figure out what
I
want. “I want to run back to him but I need to be sure. He deserves that from me. I don’t doubt how I feel about him, I’m just…scared. Unsure. If I go back, I’m committing to something I’m not sure I ever wanted. You know?”

She nods. “I’m not sure if this helps or hurts, but I invited you on Valentine’s Day because I wanted you to see. I’ve felt for a long time that your questions were…telling.”

My brow furrows. “I’m not sure I understand.”

She shrugs. “Sometimes the things we fear the most are the things we need the most. When I first met Michael I rejected and fought our attraction more than I ever fought anything in my whole life. I wanted nothing to do with him and told him that over and over again.”

“I’d forgotten.” Because I had, I only see her as she is now, as they are now. I forgot about their tumultuous beginnings.

“He didn’t believe me.” She smiles, her gaze far off and distant as though she’s remembering something fond. “And I don’t believe you.”

I don’t know what to believe about myself anymore. I take a deep breath. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good. What are you going to do now?”

“I’m going to go home to visit my family, just without Chad as I’d planned.”

“We’ll miss you at the art show Saturday.”

I tuck my hair behind my ear. “Make sure Chad goes, okay? So he can get out of the house.”

“I’ll try. But tell me some of your worries. Maybe I can help.”

I sigh. My worries seem long and fraught with peril, so I focus on the least daunting. “Don’t you ever feel stifled?”

She tilts her head and her ponytail swings. It’s all shiny again, lush and healthy. Gone is that gaunt, haunted girl. She’s the woman she used to be and more. So much more. “No. I feel free.”

Chad

“Come on, let’s go.” Michael and Leo are standing at my door wearing their cop expressions.

I’m in a shit mood and don’t want to go anywhere. It’s been twenty-four hours. I didn’t think she’d last this long and I’ve begun to doubt my hold on her. I rake a hand through my hair. “I guess you heard.”

Michael and Leo glance at each other then both nod at me.

Michael takes keys out of the pocket of his jeans. “Come on, we’re going to Brandon’s.”

I cringe. The last thing I need is memories of the first night with Ruby that started us down this miserable fucking road. “I’m not in the mood for that place.” I wave my hand. “It’s too… Shiny.”

Leo laughs. “Oh, we’re not going there. We’re going old school.”

I roll my eyes. They want to go to Brandon’s underground club. It’s seedy and dark and filled with all sorts of depravity. “I’m not going to a sex club. In fact, I’m not going anywhere. I don’t need a girls’ night out.”

“Whatever,” Leo says, then juts his chin over his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

I open my mouth to protest but Michael says, “We’re getting drunk and we’re not taking no for an answer.”

“What are you going to do, spank me?” The words are filled with sarcasm.

Leo laughs. “If we have to.”

“Like I’d let you.”

Michael raises a brow. “Someone sounds like a bratty sub.”

“Fuck you.” The urge to chuckle is sneaking through my misery.

“We’re not taking no for an answer.” Leo crosses his arms over his chest.

I sigh. What’s the harm? Do I really want to sit here all night wallowing? “Fine. But I’m not going to like it.”

Michael and Leo stare at me, lips quirked.

“Fair enough,” Michael says.

I’m about to spout off something equally petulant, but at the last minute I lose steam and my shoulders slump. “Is she gone?”

Michael nods. “She went home.”

To the reunion. I’m supposed to be with her right now. Holding her hand. Making her laugh. Fucking her senseless. I’d planned all sorts of kinky shit that would feed right into her particular sense of perversity. But I’m not doing any of that. I swallow hard. “I don’t think she’s going to come around.”

Stupid family and all that patriarchal bullshit she grew up with is fucking up my future. Her future.

“I don’t know.” Michael’s keys jingle in his hands. “Layla has hope and she’d know.”

“I’m not wrong about her.” My voice is stubborn and defiant.

“Nobody thinks you’re wrong,” Leo says.

“We’ll hash it out over liquor.” Michael points at the car. “Let’s go.”

Hashing it out will solve nothing, but there’s really nothing I can do except get drunk and pass out.

At least that way I can forget. For a while.

Until I feel for her in my sleep and find her gone.

Ruby

It’s weird being home, staying in my childhood bedroom, under my parents’ roof. The reunion is underway and the backyard is filled with every relative in my family tree. I’m on the grass, on a blanket playing with my blonde three-year-old niece.

She picks up a plastic teacup and saucer and hands it to me. “We’re going to have a tea party.”

I smile and take the offered cup. “How lovely. And what kind of tea will you be serving today.”

She giggles, picks up her teapot, and tips it into my cup to pour her imaginary beverage. “It’s purple.”

“Well, of course it is, darling.” My voice is exaggerated posh. I take a sip. “This is divine.”

Lydia mimics my expression, holds out her pinky, and says in a miniature adult voice, “So lovely.”

“She loves you.” My sister, Alissa, sits down next me. She looks pretty in a yellow sundress, her face barely touched with makeup, her hair a light shade of brown.

“Crisscross applesauce, Momma,” Lydia says, pointing to her mom’s legs.

I laugh, glancing at her skirt. “Good luck with that.”

I turn my face up to the sun. With my skin tone I have to wear SPF 5000 to avoid getting burned because I don’t tan at all, but I love the warmth of it on my skin. Even though I look like a vampire.

I miss Chad. I wish he were here with me. Wish he sat here watching me, that fond, amused expression on his face. I’d never really thought a man would look at me like that. I’d always assumed I lacked the gene that inspired devotion. I was wrong. Am I willing to give that up because of some promise I’d made to myself?

“Aunt Ruby.” Lydia’s voice rips me from my thoughts and my eyes flip open. She hands me a plate. “Have some cake. I made it myself.”

There’s a small half-inch blob on my plate. I look questioning at my sister.

She winks. “Easy-Bake Oven.”

“Ahhh…” I put the crumbly morsel with a hint of chocolate in my mouth and say in my best English accent, “Delicious, dear girl. Where can I find the recipe?”

Lydia giggles and jumps up, pointing. “Daddy’s getting ready for the treasure hunt.”

Then she takes off running, leaving me along with Alissa. I turn to her. “How’s things?”

“Good,” she says, tilting her head. “I’m glad you came. Mom would have been disappointed if you didn’t.”

I’m the black sheep in my family, but they still love me. I don’t begrudge them their different life. And I don’t think they begrudge me mine. It’s not even their fault I warped it in my head. I look at my older sister, so different from me, and I realize I don’t really know her. And, I think I want to change that. “What have you been doing with yourself?”

“Oh, you know, the kids take up a lot of time. I’m head of the PTA, and volunteer coordinator at the church. I keep busy.” She smiles, and I see it falter at the edges, waiting for me to judge her. “I’m sure it sounds pretty boring to you.”

I don’t want to be that person anymore. I’ve always had an adversarial relationship with religion—feeling judged and found lacking—but really, was I any different? Dismissing others because they didn’t want the same things as me. I shake my head. “No it doesn’t. You’re happy doing what you love best and that’s something to be envied.”

Because it is. Most of us aren’t doing anything we love. I sure as hell hadn’t been.

Alissa’s face lights up. “Thank you.”

“I mean it.” I put my hand on her knee and squeeze. “You’re a good sister and I’m lucky to have you.”

She laughs. “All right, what’s gotten into you?”

A million things. Chad. That adult that’s been living inside me, waiting to get out, while I’d been busy resisting. I shrug. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately and I want to be a better sister and daughter.”