Page 14 of Dark Surrender

The bitch nods with all the bravado of a woman who gets what she wants and never backs down. “Yes. You can and you will. When Daddy tells you to come to the Hamptons for the weekend, you come, you bring a partner, and you do things with that person or whoever else he tells you to do things with. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Oh. I am listening, loud and goddamn clear.

She’s lucky she’s a woman. That’s all I’m gonna say on that matter.

“I’m not touching those other girls.” I meet her fiery gaze head-on.

“They’re women. Not girls… And yes, you are. They’ve already consented to this.”

“I don’t give a fuck what they’ve agreed to. I’m not doin’ it.”

Pursing her lips, Pen shakes her head. For a beat, it’s just us, glaring at each other before she speaks, her tone as sharp as a whip. “There’s a bottle of blue pills inside the pocket of your luggage. I suggest that if you can’t do it, then you take a pill so you can. It’s your job.” Done with this conversation, my wife flips her hair over her shoulder and, with a huff, marches from our bedroom in her bare feet.

Christ.

This fuckin’ woman and her fucked-up family.

I’m supposed to perform.

Ha. Fat chance.

Why would I fuck my assistant in front of a bunch of dudes? To be a part of their…whatever the hell this is supposed to be? No. I don’t think so. I don’t wanna be a part of anything they’re attached to. I don’t even wanna be here. I’m not takin’ a blue pill, and I’m not touchin’ my assistant, no matter what Penelope demands.

The past few weeks have been shit enough, thanks to the lack of texts from my family. Pops was the only one to reply, and it wasn’t more than a few words. I haven’t responded or tried to reach out to any of them since. All I can think about is how I’ve ruined my life… and for what?

The club?

No.

I can’t even claim that anymore, can I?

It’s not like I’ve run a job in over a year. Not since the boat incident and the loose ends I tied up afterward.

Sure, I’ve done a few deliveries and other odds and ends, but even that was over six months ago.

Shoving off the dresser, I push the curtains aside and step onto the balcony. It overlooks the pool and lush backyard. The ocean shimmers in the distance as its breeze caresses my face. A bush-lined path leads from the back of the house to the sand. Fed up with my life, I grip the stone railing and drop my head between my shoulders. Blowing out a breath, I close my eyes and work through the anger and desperation as I send a mental plea into the universe for guidance.

I wish I had one of Kali’s crystals to draw energy from. Maybe it would help. She seems to think so. But I left those, along with the rest of my belongings, in the same storage locker I parked my bike.

Happy female voices carry from the poolside below and are soon joined by the rumblings of men.

Christ.

I can’t do this anymore.

I don’t wanna perform.

I need to go home.

I need…

Fuck…

Dropping to my knees, the urge to cry burns my nose as I whisper, voice hoarse, “Whoever’s listening. I surrender. Fuck. I can’t do this anymore.”

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I count to ten to steady my breathing before I stand and peer over the edge of the balcony. Penelope and Poppy, wearing oversized sunglasses and too-bright smiles, look up from their loungers and wave.

“Come down, Darling. I saved you a spot.” Without a care in the world, Penelope gestures to the seat beside hers with the glass of wine in her hand. She’s a damn good actress, given what just went down in the bedroom.