The Parlour (VDB #1) (21 page)

Sipping at the rest of my tea, which is nearly cold, I feel a yawn stretching its way through my body and give in to it. Knackered would be quite a good description of my current state of mind. Knackered, but at least safe for a while in my own apartment, which I can lock the door on and feel at peace enough to sleep properly, even if that does mean I’m not snuggling my back into Mr. Van der Braack. My eyes droop slowly as I shuffle the papers back into place and take them over to the study. They might as well live in there. I have a lot of work to get on with in the morning.

Just as I’m tucking them into the top drawer, I notice an envelope staring back at me with my name scrawled across it. I swipe it out and open it to find another note from Mr. White inside.

3445324

This opens the safe behind the picture of the boat. Put all the documents and files inside whenever you are not using them.

That’s it, nothing to indicate why, but presumably it’s to keep them safe from prying eyes. I swing my head around to find a small painting of a fishing boat in the corner. It’s a modern piece but it echoes memories of New York’s Victorian era. I pull on the bottom of it and find a small black safe hiding there, just big enough to fit a few files into, or something precious. I punch in the number and it opens instantly. I’m rewarded with another envelope, larger this time, again with my name on it. I tear at it and widen my eyes at the wad of money carefully bundled in the bottom. It seems I’ve been left some money to use, probably petty cash for things I might need, although why I’d need what appears to be several thousand dollars I don’t know. There’s also a phone alongside it with yet another note.

Eat, Lilah James. You’re too thin.

You’re safe here.

My lips curve up into a smile as visions of that ‘good man’ Elizabeth told me about float through my mind. What a juxtaposition he is – scaring me to death with his threats and growls one minute, then telling me I’m safe and to fatten up the next. How on earth does she deal with that? Only someone with a huge amount of gumption could even begin to cope with someone like him, I’m sure. What must she have had to put up with to be on his arm, or to have found the ability to wrap him around her fingers? My respect for her triples as I place the money back into the safe and decide that before I start work in the morning, I might just do a little research on Alexander White himself and see what I can find out. He can’t be that dangerous if he truly does have a decent heart in there, can he? Maybe it’s all just smoke and mirrors. Maybe he’s not really that much to worry about after all. If he’s concerned with my weight, he clearly isn’t about to kill me. Strange man. Or maybe Elizabeth’s concerned about my weight, and he is that bad. That’s probably more like it.

I close the safe with a sigh, and head back out to the other bedroom and the small bag of clothes I brought with me from the club. I wish I had my rucksack, but it’s still sat on the floor in my apartment at Roxanne’s. It would be just a little bit of what’s left of my life. I could gaze at the photo of my dad and pretend everything was okay, normal. I’d have my passport then, too. I could use that money and get the hell out of dodge. I’m not sure how much is in that envelope but it would be enough to get me back to the UK. Benefits would kick in quickly as soon as I got back and pleaded poverty. But then what? A life on the dole, living in some shithole flat on a council estate? I doubt I’d be offered this type of opportunity back there, would I?

England. Home.

Europe.

I sling my ridiculous clothes in the corner and dive under the cream duvet in the hope that I’ll wake up less confused. I just need to do this job. Then I’ll have money I’ve earnt properly, and I’ll be able to make choices on where I want to be and what I want to do.

At least I don’t have to spread my legs on command anymore.

Although, for some unknown fucking reason, which I wish would just leave my brain, I really wish I was doing. For him anyway. Not that he’d care.

“I will not allow you to monopolise my life to this degree,” he shouted, throwing his hands in the air and pacing around his office in fury. “How dare you take my pet from me without asking first?”

“For what, your permission? I no longer need that, Pascal. You accepted your collar.”

He stormed away from the conversation, towards anything other than the all-consuming eyes of Alexander White. How dare he? Narcissistic hypocrite. All he needed was Elizabeth? She was his angel? Then why had he stolen his version of one?

He carried on with his rage driven strides until he hit the night air and scanned the street for inspiration. He supposed he should go back inside and beat something, fuck it maybe. Unfortunately, at the moment, that person would be Alexander himself, and whether he liked to admit it or not, he had accepted the collaring, and therefore any repercussion that Alexander chose.

Fucking rules of obligation. Built for this he was not, no matter how much he loved the man.

“Where exactly are you going?” Alexander asked behind him in that tone of his that begged for love to be showered upon him. Dominant, holier-than-thou, beautiful.

“Anywhere that allows me to ignore your sanctimonious voice.” The laughter that ensued from the man was truly wonderful. Deep, resonating chuckles of amusement, all delivered with the utmost superiority, deservedly so.

“Come back inside. I want to talk to you.” Talk? He was far from wanting anything that resembled discussion. Where was Ruebin? Perhaps he could take on some of this torment.

“Why, Alexander? So you can beat another layer out of me? Or take something else of mine?”

“Nothing of yours is yours to keep from me, Pascal. You know that. You agreed to it. But actually, I need your help. I’ve missed just us.”

He spun to face the man so quickly he damn near fell over on the ice in the process. All his irritation evaporated at the thought that Alexander felt something for him alone. He stared at the raised brow and condescending smirk rising across his face. Pascal snatched the cigarette packet out of his pocket and lit one as he stormed, yet again, straight past the man and back toward the building. Perhaps if he got to the relative safety of his suite, he might calm down enough to not beat Alexander senseless for his audacity. Respect or not, he would not have his toys taken from him without the decency of being asked first. Especially not ones that held an element of personal interest to him, however bizarre that might have been.

“Do not make me humiliate you in your own club, Pascal,” Alexander whispered. He may as well have shouted it down from the heavens above for the impact it had on his senses. His feet halted before he even made it through the door and he sucked in another inhalation of smoke before turning back towards the man.

“Do not play with me. You have a world to play with out there. I will not be part of your amusement. I deserve more respect from you than that.”

“I’m not playing with you,” he replied, hands in his pockets and a cold blank stare emblazoned across his beautiful features.

“You stole my pet, and you have just amused yourself with my love for you. It is unfair, and it is beneath you.” Alexander turned around and stared back into the road, watching the yellow cabs racing by. Time ticked on as he inhaled another smoke filled breath and noticed the tension in his beloved’s shoulders. The man was far from relaxed, regardless of his previous amusement or casual appearance. He was likely in need of guidance, encouragement.

“Nothing is beneath me anymore, Pascal,” he eventually said quietly as a woman walked by and slipped on the ice. The bastard simply watched her fall with a slight tilt of his head, enjoying the yelp of fear that emanated. It took a moment before he seemed to remember his manners and helped her to her feet again. She quickly scampered off after saying thank you and apologising for the inconvenience. He smirked at the sadist rising inside the man and moved a step closer to help him cling on to it. Alexander turned back to him with a quizzical frown, “There is simply a void of air there now, and I’m not sure I want to put my feet back down again. I was looking for peace from her, and from you, and now that I’ve found it, I’m reluctant to travel backwards. My life out there seems a lie all of a sudden,” he said, waving his hand at the New York streets. “The hours with the two of you, being myself without restriction, is all that seems to resonate anymore. I need help adapting to that. I need
your
help. You are the only one who understands me enough to guide me through this.”

He sucked in another lungful and stared back into confused and haunted light blue eyes.
Poor is the fool that denies himself. Rich is the man that embraces life.

“Hmm.”

“I don’t want my life anymore. I want more.”
And you shall have it, dear boy.

“Hmm.”

“Do you have anything to say but hmm?”
Yes, a multitude of things. None of which I can help you with in our current situation.

“Will you give me my pet back?”

“No.”

“Then you may disturb yourself until the cows come home. It is a two way street.” Not that it should be, but this would not work any other way given the man’s confusion. He had hoped this was done with, but clearly it wasn’t.

“You’re collared. We do not negotiate any longer.”
And I shouldn’t be, not yet, no matter how debilitating the thought of not being so is.

“I am not the one in need of help.”

“I’ll chain you again. More effectively, and with no one to protect you.”
Stupid, beautiful boy.

“I relish the prospect, Sir. And I need no fortification against you.”

“Do as I ask.”
No, I can’t. You need me to be someone else for you.

“Ask nicely.”

“Pascal…” he growled in response, becoming ever more beautiful with every inch of his rising temper.

“No. I want my pet back. Then I may acquiesce to your request.”

He did want his pet back, desperately, for reasons unknown. However, unfortunately, this was not the real argument. It was far more than that. This time it was Alexander’s turn to push past him and into the building.

“I will not have this discussion with you. She is otherwise occupied and won’t be returning. If you aren’t willing to help then I’ll find my own way through it with Elizabeth’s guidance,” he said calmly, continuing through the doors, presumably towards his suite. Pascal’s innards churned at the thought. Why was his rose’s wellbeing so important to him? He should have just let the man torture her until she was black and blue, let them find their own path through the misery that would surely ensue should they choose the wrong one. He looked up to the stars and shook his head at the Gods for allowing such a beautiful creature as Alexander to fall into his life, let alone an angel to fall beside him. Maybe he should just talk with Elizabeth about her hold over the pair of them and then she could decide rather than thinking she should allow Alexander his choices. That would only restrict necessary growth, though, and not intrinsically solve the problem at hand.

Throwing his cigarette into the snow, he composed himself and took off after the fool before he made a mess of the whole situation. He somehow managed to contain the need to have a tantrum at anything that dared get in his way en route to his suite, and pondered his choices. Having finally discovered himself, and not being reliant on the dull necessities of financial restrictions, Alexander could finally let his body and mind become all they promised to be. There wasn’t a concern on this planet more consuming than the one at hand.

Although, more training from a sub’s point of view would be amusing to say the least, it was more than likely impossible. Alexander didn’t need a sub; he needed a master, a tutor, someone who could guide him and had the authority to be heard – something that the man wouldn’t be best pleased about.

He arrived at the doorway to Alexander’s suite and halted, wracked with indecision. So long had he wanted this, and yet here he was now, contemplating insubordination of sorts. Was there another way?

For now, no.

He pressed the pad and walked into the suite with single-minded urgency. Within two strides, he was at the feet of a surprised looking Alexander, kneeling.

“Take this collar off of me, Sir,” he said quietly. The very thought sickened him as he gazed at the floor and felt the threat of tears stinging the back of his throat.

“What?” the voice above replied in shock. “I’ve just put it on you, at your request I might add. Why the hell would I do that?”

“Alexander, I can’t help you in this scenario from beneath you, or her. Much as I might enjoy this, I cannot weaken you by being under your control. We are not ready.”

“Pascal, we were talking about Lilah. Where has this come from? You can have your pet back if it means that much to you. I–”

“You were talking about my pet, not I. You see, you did not hear me, did you? You are still too confused for this. If you truly want that which you are suggesting then I can only help if you respect my decisions. This binding of ours will not be true until I wholeheartedly trust your decisions over mine, concerning me
or
her. I do not trust you to make the right choice for us yet.”

“Lilah?”

“Elizabeth.”

“Why are we talking about her? You did what I asked of you. You got her out of danger.” He shook his head and climbed to his feet to stand face to face with the man.

“When you are in your darkness, who do you see most?”

“I’m not answering that. It has nothing to do with anything we’re discussing.” Pascal reigned in his own temper tantrum again and regarded the man as he paced about, huffing out quiet breaths and rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Alexander, it has everything to do with the problem at hand. You are being disloyal to yourself if you do not answer my probes. How do you expect me to guide you without the truth? It is time to be honest with yourself, and with me.”

The brute turned back to face him with another sneer of hate. He raised his own brow in challenge. If it took a fight to make the fool see sense, then he would happily make this as difficult as he chose to make it.

“I don’t see, I hear,” he eventually replied, spitting the words out through gritted teeth.

“Hmm. Who?”

“My father, mother.”
Still? Dear boy.

“Have you ever seen her, or I, in those moments?” he asked, internally begging the Gods for the right answer.

“For a few moments I recognise voices, tones, or perhaps the lines of bodies, some feelings lately. Nothing other than that. It becomes a blur of hatred, then silence until it’s finished.”

Pascal sighed and moved towards the decanter of Cognac for support against his weakening heart. He must do what was required to elevate the need again. Alexander had to break through the barrier of his fears and conquer them once and for all. Only then could they truly work as a unit of three. He poured two drinks and handed one to Alexander, who frowned as he gazed at the proffered glass. Discussing his innermost fears had never been particularly attractive to him, nor listening to reason amidst his own rage. Calm was required. Pascal sat, almost instantly claiming dominance in the room, and pointed to the other chair.

“Sit.”

“I’m not doing this with you.”

“Yes, you are. It is about time we ‘had this out’ as the Americans like to say. I spent weeks on that yacht with you, hoping you were finding your way through your demons. You did not. You still have not. You pepper the outskirts and constantly challenge your own sanity with reasons why you should not be more than you are. Now, you have asked for my help, have you not? I am giving you the help you require of me, whether you like the consequence or not.”

“Fuck you.” For once, rather than find a witty comeback, he simply shook his head at the reply. Beautiful as it may have been, it was intrinsically useless unless he harnessed the inner result. He sighed out a breath and scowled away the need to chastise the man for his behaviour.

“Drink your drink and calm down,” he eventually said instead as they stared at each other. He wanted nothing more than to let the man engage every sadistic preference that was clawing for freedom, but for that to happen, and his rose to be involved, he needed more control. They both did. “Alexander, if I let you bind me in her presence again, will you contain yourself this time?” He watched the breath leave the man’s lungs as he slumped in defeat.

“I don’t know,” he replied quietly, still managing to fill the entire building with the sound of his words. Pascal raised a brow in response to the honest response and watched the corners of the man’s lips curve slightly. Sadism was clearly still foremost in the man’s mind, with amusement still lingering at the thought. Hopefully, that would make him see the sense in this discussion more readily.

“Then we are not ready, and if you still wish to the three of us then you must release me from your hold for a time. Nothing will change, other than my ability to argue my point.”

“You can argue that now. You will always do so anyway, much to my irritation.”

He smirked at the reply and gazed across at Alexander’s crossed legs. He was effortlessly superior to everyone else in the building – just a mass of beauty wrapped up in a debauched bundle of intelligence.