Page 35 of Love is Angry

Normally, I’d be in awe of the guy. Self-made billionaire. Knows how to muscle his way through the city council. Takes what he wants, when he wants it. And always the friendly face on so many advertising billboards.

Everybody in the state of New York knows who he is. And I’m standing in his doorway, awkward as a high school freshman, embarrassed for the drinking and coke sniffing he’s clearly been doing and hoping I’ll get my bag back sooner rather than later.

Julian’s drunkenness aside, I still don’t want to run into Rhue just yet.

“I insist,” he says, then steps aside, motioning for me to come in. “I’m not sure where your bag is, though. I don’t remember seeing it in the study when I got home.”

“Maybe Rhue put it somewhere?” I ask, already knowing that that’s exactly what happened. Knowing Rhue, he’ll probably use it as a ploy to get me up to his room or to bribe me into going to dinner with him. Julian doesn’t know that, though, and if he were sober enough, there’s no doubt in my mind that he’d be wondering all the ways Rhue would and could get ahold of my bag. His mind would spin to anything other than the truth. And I’d be a stuttering mess trying to explain that yes, I did simply forget it. And no, I didn’t venture into any other part of the house on my last visit here. As things are, I don’t have to go through any of that.

Julian guides me forward and I take two steps for every one he takes.

“What does the bag look like?” he asks, as we stop at the bottom of the stairs leading to the upper levels.

“Brown, leather imitation,” I say. “It’s got a couple of tassels made from the same material, each the size of my hands.”

Julian snaps his fingers and smiles, as if he’s just remembered. “That’s it. Yeah, I know where it is. I think one of the maids must’ve thought it was Roxanne’s and brought it up to the bedroom. Come on, let’s go get you your bag, Madison.”

I follow him up the stairs, though part of me would rather wait by the door. Then again, I’m terribly embarrassed by the mere thought of asking Julian to retrieve my bag for me. I’m the dipstick who forgot the damn thing, after all.

“So, tell me, how are the tutoring sessions going?” Julian asks, while I take a moment to notice how suddenly creepy the mansion feels without anyone else in it.

“Great, actually,” I say. “Rhue is a quick study, and he’s very inquisitive. I’m positive we’ll get him the highest possible grades by the end of the year. He’ll rock his SAT’s for sure, Mr. Echeveria.” I pause and take a deep breath.

“Julian, please,” he growls. We’ve reached the second floor now, and he briefly glances over his shoulder. “This way. Let’s see if your bag’s here. My wife’s walk-in closet is the size of Alaska.”

I follow him into the bedroom, though deep down I know I should have stayed downstairs. Everything feels horribly wrong, all of a sudden.

Light pours into the room, diffused through the shimmering pale grey curtains, and I see no sign of my bag, anywhere.

There’s a half-opened door across the room. A sink is visible through the narrow crack, making it obvious that that room isa bathroom. There are no other doors and no sign of a walk-in closet that someone like Julian Echeveria might get lost in.

I don’t know why, but I feel like an idiot. A dead idiot.

“Tell me, how are you getting along with my son?” Julian asks, slowly turning around to face me. Only now do I see it. The filthy lust in his eyes. He’s lost that gracious spark I’ve seen before. He has devolved into something more feral. This is the quiet before the storm. The calm before the predator’s pounce.

“Great. Well. We work well, together. So, my bag?” I ask, “I really should get going.”

“How did your bag get upstairs, Maddie?” he asks, taking a step forward. And there it is, the question he should have asked. The question I was expecting him to ask. Except, I don’t exactly know that my bag is upstairs, do I?

I take one step back, feeling my throat close up. “I don’t know that it—”

“Were you fucking my son, Madison?”

“Sir, I––”

“Julian!” he snaps and slams the door shut behind me. The bang startles me, and I jump back, but I can’t get out, because he’s too close, and that look in his eyes... “How fucking hard is that to remember?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t understand what’s—” I lose my voice as he slips an arm around my waist and pulls me against him. He’s hard as a rock, throbbing angrily against my lower abdomen. Fear grips me tight, and I lose my reflexes altogether as he brings his right hand up and closes it around my throat.

“Is that how you lost your bag? Got too high off the taste of my son’s cock and forgot your mind.” Julian hisses the words at me, then follows through with a slide of his tongue down my cheek. My skin crawls and my heart races so fast that I can barely catch my breath.

“Please, don’t,” I manage, trembling like a reed in the wind. “Don’t…it’s not…”

“Shh,” Julian growls, then nibbles on my earlobe, while nausea gathers in the back of my throat. He slips his other hand under my wool dress, finding my panties and the flesh beneath way too fast. I should be screaming right now.

I try to push him away, but his hand tightens around my neck. With his other hand, he slips his fingers deep inside me. Tears spring to my eyes, and I bite my tongue as he lays the law of the land.

“You’re gonna keep quiet and take it like a good girl, Maddie.”

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