Page 19 of Pierced

And I was kind of the boss. Everyone had to get through me to get to him. And he liked it. He did. He liked me.

Didn’t he?

I sigh as I get into my Tesla, then make my way down the garage ramp and out into the crisp Colorado night. I live about fifteen minutes east of TDH on a sixty-acre plot of land. It was actually my father’s house before he moved up north to be closer to work.

Even though I grew up with the boarding-school Quakers in Pennsylvania with my mother, Colorado was where I spent my vacations as a child. My father has always lived here. He met my mother when she was in college, but it was one of those whirlwind romances with lots of sex, an unplanned pregnancy, and no commitments once it was over.

My father was not going to give up his job to settle down back East and my mother was never going to travel with him for his work.

So she moved home, got a job at the school, and just kind of settled into being a spinster.

My father was way too wild at heart to be contained like that. So… they went their separate ways. Amicably, I suppose. I never heard them fight. She never complained that the child support was late. I always had a plane ticket waiting for me when it was time for a school break.

I lived a double life. During the school year I was shy, skinny Myrtle with the librarian mother. But during breaks I was… wild. Just like my father.

And it occurs to me now that no one from work knows who I am. Not even Pierce. And I didn’t even plan it that way. I have just always lived a double life. It’s just part of me now.

There’s a gate at the end of my driveway and the twelve-foot wrought-iron fence that surrounds the property is imposing. I greet Samantha with a wave as I pull up to the security station, and wait for her to let me in.

She waves back through the window, then points at her book. Smiling and nodding enthusiastically.

It’s the last Scarlett Savannah novel I read. She borrows them when I’m done. Some people might wonder why I let my security people read while they’re on duty, but… the gate isn’t here to keep people out. It’s to keep things in.

I smile back, feeling satisfied that she and I share a love for dirty books, and ease forward down the long, winding driveway to the house.

The road goes on past the house, but I know everything down that way has been buttoned up tight for the night. And it’s late, so I don’t go down to check on things or hang out with the on-site employees, I just pull my car into the garage, get out, plug it in, and go inside.

The growling from the corner of the dark kitchen is expected. I should’ve been home hours ago, but dinner with Pearl kept me longer than I thought it would.

And when I flick on the kitchen light Dave hurls himself at me, teeth bared, ears back.

I catch him in my arms and he immediately begins to purr like a kitten.

Which makes me laugh. Because kitten he is not.

Meanwhile, Betty, Dave’s better half, is rubbing up against my legs, getting hair all over my stockings.

“I’m not that late,” I protest. They mew and growl back at me, disagreeing. “Dinner’s coming.”

But I’m still distracted by Pierce and my new revenge scheme. Could I really entice him to be my sub?

I laugh under my breath as I get the chicken out of the fridge and start preparing it for Betty and Dave. They sit at my feet swishing their tails, trying their best to be patient. A few minutes later I put their dishes on the floor, pet them both on the head as they eat, and then make my way to the back of the house to change.

But I stop at the basement stairs. Hesitating. I haven’t really been down there since I moved in a few years ago. Never even unpacked the boxes.

I sigh again. How did I get roped into this?

You didn’t really say yes yet, the inner monologue starts.

But I didn’t say no, either. In fact, I nodded my head the whole time Pearl was going over what I’d need to get started.

And it would be the perfect way to get back at him.

You could just let him off the hook, inner monologue continues.

“Yeah, right,” I huff. And then the door to the basement is open and I’m going down to check things out.

Because I am Myrtle Rothschild.