Page 59 of Blood and Thorns
“Mum asks whether you want to join us for breakfast,” he said, his tone cold.
“Thank you,” I replied, wanting to cover myself up. “I’ll be there soon.”
His nod was polite, almost disappointed, and then he stormed past towards the direction of the kitchen. I took a moment, my heart pounding and my stomach twisting. Fighting the burning across my cheeks, I slammed my bedroom door behind me, then immediately went to the bathroom.
I caught my reflection in the mirror, staring at myself covered in colour. I thought he’d just been obsessively applying the paint, but now I realised he was using the natural curves of my body to exaggerate my silhouette.
But now it was itchy, flaking with every movement. I needed it off.
Reaching into the shower, I turned the water to scorching and stepped beneath the stream. My body protested the heat, but still I washed everything away, scrubbing along my arms, through my hair and even the stickiness between my thighs.
My pussy was sore, aching from the way he’d used me. Groaning, I pressed my forehead against the cool tile, allowing the heated water to beat my shoulders.
Maybe you did it because you like to be punished?
“Arsehole,” I whispered, fisting my hands.
I’d made the choice to search for Sebastian, fully aware of the consequences. Maybe he was right, maybe some twisted part of me wanted to be caught. To be punished. At least then I’d feelsomethinginstead of this constant numbness pressing down on me.
All I wanted was to curl into a ball and disappear, but even that felt out of reach.
I’d gone from living on edge, constantly bracing for the next mess my father would leave me to clean up, to being locked in a gilded cage.
From chaos to control.
One extreme to another.
And still, I was stuck. Lost.
I needed to talk to Sebastian and drag this debt out into the open, lay it bare so I could finally understand what I owed and figure out how long it would be until I could breathe again.
Scrubbing the remainder of the paint, which really didn’t want to come off, I stepped out to give myself a minute. To think about my choices before I was crushed beneath the guilt.
Dressing, I grabbed one of the new paperbacks and went up to the mezzanine to be greeted by a cheerful Beatrice and a stoic Chip.
“There you are, come, be our guest,” she chirped, excitedly showing off a tray of fresh scones she’d set up on one of the short tables. “Sebastian’s had to pop out to deal with something, but he’ll be home soon, I’m sure.”
She began to pour some tea, humming gently to herself.
“What does Sebastian do, exactly?” I asked, taking a seat and placing my book down.
Beatrice didn’t miss a beat. “He’s a businessman, dear.” She concentrated on the tea.
“No, I mean what does–”
“He was such a peculiar little boy, always up to mischief,” she interrupted, finally looking up to smile. “Cutthroat in everything he does.”
Wait, was that a threat?
Chip sat rigidly beside me, his eyes burning a hole in the side of my head.
“Now, let’s talk about you,” Beatrice continued, taking a seat on the sofa opposite. “Such a fascinating little addition to this family. Sebastian isn’t one to bring anyone home, especially someone like you.”
I was taken aback by the slight hostility in her gaze, but it was quickly hidden beneath a gentle smile. So fast I must’ve imagined it. “What do you mean someone like me?”
“She’s here to spread her legs,” Chip commented, the words delivered without an ounce of emotion.
I expected Beatrice to gasp or even scold him. But she simply sat there, waiting for me to comment. When I didn’t, Chip stood, leaning down to whisper in my ear.
