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He gives me a quizzical look. “Cool.”
I shake my head. “I was just leaving. Sorry I interrupted your day.” I move to the door.
My shoulder is inches from his, almost brushing against him as I go to leave.
He gives an easy, “Alright, man. Take care!”
And I’m forgotten.
I hold the knob, open the door, and give one final glance over my shoulder before I leave. He moves to Mom, leaning over her to plant a quick “hello” kiss on her cheek.
“Ma, you got any of that wedding soup left from last night?” he asks her. “I’m starving.”
And just like that, I’m dismissed from their world.
I leave, closing the door behind me. I drive back to my hotel in a bewildered state. A million questions come over me, including:
Why did I leave without telling him who I am?
I didn’t want to ruin him like I did Ophelia.
My mom is not the only one who can destroy people.
As she said, “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
I rent a cheap room at the hotel where I lost my virginity, a drunken, fumbling escapade with a girl whose name I no longer remember. I collapse onto the bed and pull my phone from my pocket.
I call her new cell number, the one for the Bachman phone I gave her when we left the Villa on our trip to Scotland. An eggplant-purple thing with a glittering case that Eros’s sister assured me a “girl Ophelia’s age” would love.
She did.
Ophelia picks up on the first ring. “There you are! I’ve been dying to hear from you. I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye. How are things?”
You denied my proposal. I’m halfway across the world. I didn’t even introduce myself to my brother. And didn’t press my mom for the full truth about my father. So, the answer to your question is that things are going terribly.
Things are totally. Completely. Out of my control.
Needing to gain some of my power back, I turn all my heated attention on her, growling into the phone, “Did you touch that pretty pussy, baby?”
“Maybe.” She gives a shy excuse. “It got a little lonely here in the castle without you.”
God, she even sounds sexy.I reach down, rubbing my already hardening crotch. “Then you’ll have to be punished, naughty girl.”
“Punished? Pff.” She laughs. “What can you do over the phone?”
She has no idea the reach of a Bachman man, but she soon will when she sees what I have waiting for her. “You know I can reach you from anywhere. Anytime. You’re all mine now, little wifey. And always will be.”
“Wife-to-be,” she haughtily corrects. “Kind of.”
“I might make you say your vows over this phone now.” She’s denied my proposal. Does she need to remind me that she’s taken away my control? It’s time I demanded it back. “I’m teasing about the vows,” I say. “But one thing I’ll never joke about?”
“What?” Her question is a breathy whisper.
“Punishing you.”
CHAPTER 26
Ophelia