Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
On the nightstand are the two things I brought over with me. A collar and a thin, but strong chain. I pick them up and sit on the bed again, taking hold of the collar around Blue’s neck. It’s part of the uniform at The Cat House. It’s similar to the one the courtesans wear but this one is just for show, so I slip it off and replace it with the new one, a thin strip of leather, soft and malleable but strong. I lock it into place and through the D-ring between her collarbones, I slip the chain. I secure that to the bed with another lock and, after checking her new stitches, I set her hand on her stomach, palm up, and stand, smiling down at my handiwork.
A lesson in submission will go a long way. She needs to learn she is not in control. I am. She needs to understand that there are consequences to fucking with a man like me. And until I figure out exactly what she has on me, she will need to learn to heel.
Just one last thing I need to do before I leave my little convict to sleep. From my pocket, I retrieve her phone. I swipe to bring the screen to life then bend down to brush Blue’s hair back before holding it up to her. Facial recognition. Much less secure than a pin code, actually. A moment later, I’m in. I smile as I add my own face to her phone, giving myself access to everything before removing her access altogether. I walk out of the bedroom switching out the light and closing the door behind me. I pocket her phone. I’ll go through the little convict’s life after.
A familiar, old gloom settles over me as I make my way through the dark corridor to the stairs and down and out the front door.
Because there’s something I need to do.
Someone I need to visit now that I’m back.
8
Ezekiel
The grounds are damp, although it’s not raining anymore. My shoes will be ruined. It doesn’t matter, though.
I walk guided by memory. The Bishop and St. James properties stand back-to-back. When Jericho took over the Bishop house after Carlton’s death, he had the wall between the properties brought down, uniting the vast grounds. Matty will be the inheritor of the estate but that won’t happen until he’s eighteen and he’s far from that. But the real reason he did it isn’t for Matty, who’s too young to know anything about the history between our families. He did it for his wife, Isabelle. She, too, is a Bishop. Ironic how life plays with us. He vowed to destroy the Bishop name, to wipe it from the face of the earth and here he is putting babies in her belly. Babies that will bear his name.
Love is a strange thing.
I stop.
Love.
I can’t remember the last time I’ve used the word. Given it any thought at all.
With a shake of my head, I continue on, the bottoms of my pants sodden from the damp earth. At least Jericho is maintaining the gardens.
It takes a little bit but soon I see the lights of the St. James house. It was my home once. It doesn’t belong to me anymore. I’m not sure it ever did. I was more of a caretaker until my brother returned. It was always going to be his. He’s first-born. And I don’t begrudge him that. That house holds far too many ugly memories for me, hanging my failures in front of me almost as if to remind me. As if I could forget.
From here, I see the curving path leading from the edge of the Bishop line to where the St. James property starts. I cross the now invisible barrier and push my hands into my pockets, the air damp and chilly. I make my way not to the house but take a turn toward the small graveyard on the property. It’s just for the family.
The chapel’s tabernacle lamp burns inside, it’s red glow visible through the narrow slit of a window as I approach from the side. I’m glad to see the graves are maintained, the small fence that had been rotting has been replaced. I enter through the gate, which doesn’t creak like it used to, and stop, taking in the fresh flowers that stand in two spots. I should have brought something, I think too late.
I walk to the first one. Kimberly’s grave. The stone has recently been cleaned and the flowers are fresh. I crouch down to look at it, brushing off a little bit of dirt. Kimberly is Angelique’s mother. She and Jericho were engaged when she was killed while pregnant with Angelique. Her death was the catalyst that changed his life in ways I don’t think he ever knew it would.