Page 46 of Freestyle
Seven
Rowyn
AsthesleekblackAudi glides through the night, I can’t help but feel a mixture of awe and dread. The polished exterior reflects the streetlights, casting fleeting shadows that dance across the leather interior. I sit in the front seat, my heart racing, trying to process everything that’s happened in such a short time. The quiet hum of the engine is almost soothing, but it does little to calm the storm brewing inside me.
Gray is behind the wheel, his jaw set in a determined line, and I can feel the tension radiating from him. It’s suffocating, yet oddly intoxicating. In the backseat, Nix leans back, hispresence a constant reminder of the unyielding grip they have on my life now. The silence stretches between us, heavy and thick, and I can’t shake the feeling of being trapped in this luxurious prison.
My thoughts spiral as I consider my job at the bar, the late-night shifts that barely covered my tuition. I had been so focused on making ends meet, on proving I could handle everything on my own. Now, it feels like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff, and the ground beneath me is crumbling away.
What have I gotten myself into?My fingers tap nervously against my thigh, the rhythm echoing my anxiety. My mind drifts to the pony I found, a disfigured creature meant to scare me, I believe. It mirrors my own feelings of vulnerability, of being exposed and unprotected.
I glance at Gray who seems focused on the road, but there’s an intensity in his demeanor that sends shivers down my spine. Suddenly his hand rests on my thigh, warm and possessive. I can feel the heat rippling over my skin, igniting a mix of emotions within me—anger, confusion, and a strange thrill that I can’t quite comprehend.
“You’re safe with us,” he says softly, though the words feel like a double-edged sword.How can I feel safe when I don’t even know what they want from me?
The city lights blur past us, each passing moment intensifying my introspection. My life has shiftedfrom mundane routines to this chaotic whirlwind of possessiveness and desire. I can’t help but think about how quickly everything has changed. Just hours ago, I was working at the bar, and now I’m here, caught between the boys’ world and my own.
As the mansion looms ahead, its imposing structure stark against the night sky, my breath catches in my throat. It’s a fortress, a stark contrast to the cramped dorm room I call home.
“You passed my dorm!” I suddenly exclaim, panic creeping into my voice.
“You aren’t staying there tonight.”
“What the hell, Gray? I have class in the morning!” I snap, feeling a tight coil of anxiety creeping in.
“I’ll send someone to get your things,” Nix chimes in from the back seat. He’s been silent the whole ride, but now he decides to voice his decisions.
The car pulls into the driveway of the mansion, and I can feel my heart racing faster. The sprawling estate looms like a fortress against the night sky, and I can’t shake the feeling that stepping inside is crossing a line I can never uncross.
“No! Lyndsy doesn’t know about this.” I gesture between the three of us.
Gray parks the car, and the weight of my decision presses down on me. I’m caught between the familiar chaos of myold life and the unknown that lies ahead. As Gray’s hand remains on my thigh, I can’t help but wonder what the future holds for me.Am I truly safe with them, or is this just the beginning of something far more dangerous?
“Actually she does. We went there this morning,” Gray states matter of factly.
“What! How could you? Fuck!” I cover my face in my hands. “She probably hates me now,” I whisper more to myself.
Gray leans over the middle console and pulls my face to him, cupping my bruised cheek. “She doesn’t hate you, sunshine. I promise.” That’s probably the nicest thing he’s ever said to me, which is sad, seeing as I’ve slept with them twice.Why the hell do I keep coming back for more? Did my childhood fuck me up so bad that I throw caution to the wind and jump straight into the fire?
Gray and Nix exchange a glance, a silent understanding passing between them. I know there’s no escaping what’s happening, and as I open the door to step out, the cool night air hits me like a splash of cold water.
Nix is the first to move, stepping around the car and extending his hand toward me. “Come on, let’s get you settled,” he says, his voice low and commanding. I hesitate for a moment, but the look in his eyes leaves little room forargument. I take his hand, feeling the warmth of his grip as he leads me toward the mansion.
The front door swings open, revealing an expansive foyer with marble floors and high ceilings. The opulence of the place is overwhelming, and I can’t help but feel small in comparison. Nix guides me through the hallways, the soft glow of chandeliers illuminating our path.
“Where are we going?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper, the surreal nature of the situation settling heavily on my shoulders.
“To my room,” he replies simply, and I can’t help but feel a flutter of anxiety mixed with something else—curiosity, perhaps.
“Take care of her,” Gray booms from behind us. I turn to look at his stormy eyes before he slams his door shut.
Nix opens the door to his room, and I step inside, my breath catching at the sight before me. The space is dark and intimate, cloaked in the muted glow of a single bedside lamp. A king-sized bed dominates the center, its deep blue sheets rumpled, a stark contrast to the pristine elegance of the mansion beyond this room. The air is thick with the scent of worn books and faint cologne—Nix’s presence lingering in every corner.
A desk sits against the far wall, cluttered with books and scattered papers, some curling at the edges as if they’vebeen poured over one too many times. Amidst the chaos, a single, neatly framed photograph stands out—an image I can’t quite make out in the dim light, but one that feels strangely out of place.
“Here,” Nix murmurs, pulling open a drawer and rummaging through it with practiced ease. His movements are smooth, deliberate. He emerges with a simple black T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, holding them out to me. “Change into these. You’ll be more comfortable.”
I take the clothes from him, fingers brushing his in the exchange. His skin is warm, steady—grounded in a way I am not. The brief touch sends an unexpected ripple through me, a fleeting moment of connection or hesitation I don’t fully understand.
