Page 82 of Power
I don’t care to find out if he means that literally. I just hold my mug up for more coffee which Owen obliges, while no one mentions Trish or the events of the day before.
All normal here.
Yeah, right.
ChapterForty-Six
Bailey
Reluctant for themen to leave me alone, I contemplate going back upstairs to change into my work clothes. I’ve made a grave error as it is getting dressed, and the waistband of my low-rise jeans is sitting on the border of the cuts. It’s not comfortable. I undo the button and breathe out in relief as the men watch me.
I giggle as they automatically think nookie is on the table.
It’s not.
I’m a bit too sore for that.
“Are you sure you don’t want us to stay?” Archer asks, hopefully.
“No. Go. I’m good, I promise.”
“You know we are a phone call away, and Elsie will be here until just after lunchtime. She won't bother you.”
“Who is Elsie?”
“The housekeeper.”
“Oh, of course. Sorry. Still getting used to the luxuries of billionaire life.”
Archer gives me that sexy smile. “Get used to it, my Queen. Soon you will have everything your red heart desires.”
He bends down to kiss me, and I return it, clinging to him, suddenly forgetting all about my aches and pains. It’s frightening how he does that to me. He makes me forget. He makes me forget myself.
But at this point, I don’t even care. I want him, I want Owen, and I want Finn—all of them, here with me. I didn’t want to tell Archer and Owen that without Finn. It didn’t seem right, but I know in my heart. It doesn’t take away from the fact that they are paying for this place, the housekeeper, and the fancy clothes I’ve seen hanging in the closet next to my bargain basement ones but I have studiously ignored. It’s a means to an end. I’m not so stubborn that I will kick up a stink about them paying. Who gives a crap what they want in return? So far, it’s only been me, and that’s a price I am willing to pay to get what I want. I will even go further. My drive to stay in this penthouse and eventually be able to afford it all myself far outweighs whatever reservations I have about this Society business.
“Be safe,” Owen murmurs when I pull away from Archer. He crosses over to let Elsie in through the front doors before he bolts them up behind her. “I will be back at lunchtime,” he adds, crossing back over to us.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I do. We need you safe.”
I nod, not willing to argue with him or his brother.
“I’ll see you then.”
He stoops to kiss me, and then he and Archer leave via the elevator.
I chew my lip and turn around. The bed is calling me, and seeing as I’m here alone, with nowhere to go and nothing to do, I choose to crawl back up the stairs and strip off before flopping back in bed. I doubt I will even hear her if Elsie comes up to clean the bathroom. Closing my eyes, I see the white rabbit, dressed in a waistcoat and glasses, carrying an old-timey watch.
He hops around my imagination for a while before turning into Trish. I groan. I need to deal with my lack of guilt about her, or she is just going to keep popping up.
I run my fingertip over the scratch she gave me. It’s a fine cut, nothing to write home about. But an inch or so lower, it would’ve been my eye.
“You were a bitch, and I didn’t like you. I didn’t kill you, but nor did I help you live. Had I intervened, you would have kept coming for me with your little delusion of being Alice. I’m not even Alice. I’m the Queen, so what the fuck did you have to be jealous about? Hmm? Stupid bitch.”
I pause, knowing one shouldn’t speak ill of the dead.
Huffing, I flop over onto my other side and glare at the rabbit sitting in the armchair.
