Page 28

28

Hex

Aran is late. But that’s fine, and I bet he’d be proud to know that I’ve been holding the front like a champ for the past five minutes.

Pretending I needed to pee as soon as we arrived was a stroke of pure genius, but it can only buy me so much time. It’s not that I wasn’t confident in dealing with Mrs. Lynx myself, it’s just that there was something a bit off as soon as we walked in.

The air was heavy with anticipation and while everyone smiled and wanted to shake hands with me, I got this icky feeling in my stomach, kind of like the one I had when Mrs. Lynx was stroking my head earlier.

So I bailed, temporarily.

I take out my phone and calmly text the love of my life.

Me: WHERE R U??

Future Husband: There was a complication. I’ve picked up the drinks and will be there soon. Stall.

I take a selfie, grinning at him from the bathroom where I’ve sat on the gilded lid of a toilet.

Me: What do you think I’ve been doing? Duh?? I’ve got this, just get your sexy ass here.

Future Husband: Fuck. OK.

Future Husband: You are doing great .

Future Husband: I’m so glad you are okay.

A surge of butterflies surprises my stomach. Aran doesn’t really curse or swear or use profanities. It’s part of his stoic charm, so he must’ve really been worried.

I knew something must’ve happened, because when we agree on something, he usually makes sure he’s on time, no matter what. But he’s running late. That in itself is fine, but just like I had a weird feeling about Mrs. Lynx today, he must’ve had it too. It couldn’t have been easy for him to leave me to my own devices, but the fact that he did must mean he trusts me enough to handle things by myself.

And I am, like a boss.

“Hex, dear, is everything okay?” Mrs. Lynx knocks on the door of the spacious bathroom.

It’s mind-bogglingly huge, probably the size of our entire cabin. In the middle of it is a marble bathtub propped on a pedestal-like thing with two steps. A massive vase with bamboo and lilies stands next to it, matched on the other side by a bathroom cart with oils, shampoo and soaps. The walls and floors are white marble with golden decorations that resemble cracks, and the toilet I’m sitting on, the faucets, and the shower installation behind the frosted glass in the corner are all gold.

“Uh, yes!” I dart over to the sink and turn the water on. “I was just coming out.” After I’ve waited a couple of seconds, I turn it off and join Mrs. Lynx in the dim corridor. “I’m ready for round two and three now.”

She giggles at my stupid joke and loops her arm around mine. “Our lovely server seems to be running late. That’s a little unusual.”

Uh-oh, so she noticed. I need to divert.

“I bet there is a queue at the bar, and he had to help out,” I explain, wow-ing and aw-ing as we pass by the paintings hanging on the walls. “I recognize this one! It’s the Space Needle in Seattle, isn’t it?”

We pause in front of the work in question, and she ruffles my hair. “Not quite. It’s the CN Tower in Toronto, dear. They look similar, but the tower is much taller.”

Of course, I knew that. But she didn’t know that I knew, so it offered the perfect opportunity to distract her from Aran’s failure to show up on time.

For the next few minutes, we play a game of ‘guess the place’ and I intentionally get all of them wrong so she can explain to me each and every painting we walk by. She seems happy to do so too, patting me on the head while humming to herself.

“You are so right. The two churches look nothing alike. I don’t know how I even confused them,” I agree with her as we enter the Skellig room.

Aside from Mr. Lynx and the two people whose names I’ve already forgotten, two more have joined our private party. They are about the same age as Mrs. Lynx, and they both seem very excited to see me. We shake hands as I introduce myself, but I find their grips unnecessarily firm and long.

You can usually tell when it’s okay to let go of someone’s hand during a handshake, but they are either worse at reading social cues than even me, or they just ignore them.

It makes me uncomfortable. The room, which is of decent size if a little narrow, closes in on me, suddenly suffocating. The first prickles of worry raise the hairs on my nape and arms, but I do my best to keep smiling. I did fine at the party the other night, and I will do fine now, too.

Yes, Hex, just think about how proud Aran will be. You are fine, you got this.

“Let’s sit down, dear,” Mrs. Lynx invites me, sinking onto the leather couch and patting the spot next to her.

I am more than happy to oblige if it means putting some distance between me and her two friends. I can be a bit weird about physical contact when it comes to people I don’t know, that’s normal for me, but with those I’m familiar with, I don’t usually have such an issue.

So when she places her hand on my thigh after I’ve sat down, I’m caught by surprise by my body’s knee-jerk reaction. Everyone’s eyes are on me as I jump up from the couch, all conversation halted. Okay, uh, I’m not too sure what’s happening, but I’m suddenly on high alert, as if I’ve walked into a den of lions ready to eat me alive.

Aran, where are you?

I’d feel a million times better if he was here with me.

“Sorry. My… leg cramped,” I say awkwardly, channeling my most innocent and cute smile. I groan and grunt a bit, massaging my perfectly-fine thigh. “I think I might’ve overdone it with the swimming yesterday and pulled a muscle.”

Can you even pull a muscle swimming?

Mrs. Lynx lifts an eyebrow, but after a torturous heartbeat in which the suspense rises to unbearable levels, she waves me off. “You poor sweetie. Why didn’t you say so earlier? I’d have booked you in for a spa and massage procedure.”

Spa and massage… does sound good, especially as images of Aran kneading my body with essential oils invade my brain. We could have sex on the massage table, or in the jacuzzi. I’m down for it anytime, anywhere.

I forcefully cut off my daydream and focus back on the present. All eyes are still on me, and that only makes my discomfort and anxiety grow. Being the center of attention is usually not a problem for me—in fact, I enjoy it. But there is something I can’t pinpoint about the way these people are looking at me. It tugs on my instinct for self-preservation, and before long, I feel like a mouse caught in a cheese trap.

“So, Mrs. Lynx tells me you have a surprise for me?” I say in hopes of breaking the tension and distracting myself.

My companions look at each other, then at me. “We do,” the only other woman beside Mrs. Lynx confirms, scooting closer to me until I am caged between the two of them. She picks a lock of my hair and rubs it between her fingers, sending a surge of shivers down my back.

Why is everyone touching me so much tonight?

She leans in, my heart racing like a beast in restraints. She’s too close, way too close.

I ball my hand into a fist, take a deep breath while maintaining my smile for earlier and…

A loud knock sounds, and the door opens abruptly. “Apologies for the delay. There was an accident at the bar with a guest,” Aran says as he steps in, his cheeks tinted pink and his manbun sticking out in sexy disarray.

His eyes dart to me immediately, alert and a little worried, and I instantly know that whatever held him up must have been very important. Their intensity envelops me in a silky cocoon, calming down my nerves and assuring me that I am safe no matter what might happen from now on.

I want to throw myself at him, but I push down that impulse. We’ll hug and make out as much as we want when we are back at our cabin. For now, we need to figure out where Eleanor is and why Mrs. Lynx pretends everything is in order when I’m pretty sure she didn’t even speak to my friend after that party. Otherwise, she’d know about the job proposal.

“Oh my! I hope it wasn’t anything serious…”

Eyes roaming me with unwavering focus, Aran dips his chin slightly. “Luckily not. The guest simply had one drink too many.”

I know what he’s doing—he’s looking for anything out of order, for any hints that something happened to me. He does it every time and I think it’s so automatic he doesn’t even realize it.

While internally fanboying over his dedication to me, I’m also glad that Mrs. Lynx’s hand isn’t on my leg anymore. The other woman startled the moment my savior walked in, straightening up as if she somehow knew that she’d be in gigantic trouble if Aran saw her invading my personal space. I got whiplash just watching her and now that I think about it, it appeared almost like she did it out of habit. Not that it matters to me—I’m just happy she’s not too close anymore.

Aran approaches the table which we are sitting around and holds the tray in front of himself, handing each person a drink. “This is a new drink that only Mrs. Lynx has tasted so far. I hope you enjoy it.” He walks back over to the door and rolls in a kitchen cart loaded with various bottles, a chopping board, ice and fruit. “I took the liberty of bringing a couple more things, as I’ve been working on a new cocktail. I hope you don’t mind being my first customers.”

The smile he flashes us causes me heart-palpitations. It’s sly and confident, flirtatious and inviting, a smirk like no other. It challenges you and it makes you want to take him up on that challenge, to see where he wants to take you.

They don’t stand a chance.

“Oh, how exciting!” one of the men cheers breathlessly. “What do you say, Mrs. Lynx?” The look he gives her is full of hackles-rising hunger that makes me bristle.

She hums thoughtfully and strokes Aran’s arm while squinting at me. “I suppose Hex could use another drink or two to relax…” In a quieter voice that’s meant only for him, she slides a wad of cash into his hand and adds, “Of course, everything that happens here, stays here. Do you understand?”

Aran’s gaze strays from me for the first time, turning seductive. “Of course, Mrs. Lynx.”

She crosses her legs, satisfaction touching every inch of her face. “Good boy. Perhaps you and I can have a chat a bit later—”

Uh, hello, how about no? And stop hitting on my man!

“More booze? Say no more!” I butt in, borderline homicidal. Things were fine and rosy when she wasn’t trying to flirt with Aran, but she just crossed a line she never should have crossed.

“That’s the spirit,” Mr. Lynx joins in, already slurring a little.

For a while, we enjoy our drinks over small talk. Aran is sent out to get some snacks at one point, and I’m left alone once again. It’s only for two minutes max, I know he’ll sprint both ways like his life depends on it, but I have a really bad feeling about this. Worse than before, like a storm is about to crash-land on me.

“Have you seen Eleanor? I’m getting worried,” I say after a while, hoping to get the woman talking now that she’s got a bit of a buzz going.

“Don’t worry about that, dear.” She waves me off dismissively, then pets my head.

I don’t like it. She’s been acting strange all evening, and it’s really giving me the ick . It was easier to stomach it with Aran here, but as he’s stepped out, the bad and uncomfortable feeling is back in my stomach.

I open my mouth to excuse myself because of a bladder malfunction, when Mrs. Lynx says, “So, about your surprise…”

She snaps her fingers and the man sitting next to her husband produces a gift bag with a red ribbon from somewhere, and places it on the table. “This is for you. Open it.”

I love presents. The ones Aran has given me have never once disappointed me. But none of these people know me, so how would they know what I even like?

Still, it’s not in my nature to be intentionally rude, so I thank them with a smile and slide the gift closer to me. Then I look inside.

It’s a short but wide box wrapped in luxurious paper. I take it out and do a horrendous job of unwrapping it without ripping the paper. The box’s outside is black velvet, and it has a golden hook on the front. Lifting it, I open the lid.

At first, I am not even sure what I am looking at. But as Mrs. Lynx shuffles closer to me and holds up the elegant leather strap with the gold bell, I notice my name engraved on it.

Hold on a minute. Is this a collar? With my name? Why is she gifting me something like this?

A hand squeezes my thigh. I jerk out of reflex, but someone presses on my shoulders and forces me back down to sit.

“Exciting, isn’t it, dear? It would look so good on you,” Mrs. Lynx lilts, licking the inside of the collar. “You will make such a great little pet.”

Um, what ? No, no, no. Things escalated quickly… too quickly for my confused brain to keep up! I need a time-out!

“Uh, I think there is some kind of a misunderstanding here…”

She grabs my chin with two fingers and forces me to look at her. Hunger and arousal swim in her eyes, aimed at me. “Not at all. But it’s okay if you are a little shy still. We’ll teach you everything you need to know.” She nods her head, and out of my peripheral, I see the other woman take out a syringe.

I pull back and shove out of her hold, but the closest man is quick to react and restrain me.

“A little wild, are we?” Mrs. Lynx preens, her nostrils flaring. “Just how I like them. I always knew you weren’t the good boy you pretended to be. And now I get to tame you myself.”

Eww, fuck that!

These geezers have totally lost it. What gave them the idea that I would be interested in boning anyone but Aran? Not happening.

“No, thanks. Also, I’m suddenly sleepy, so I better go now. Bye.”

Yep, I’m pretty sure this is why I had that weird feeling lately. My body could tell something was off and I should’ve listened to it and Aran.

“You aren’t going anywhere, dear,” Mrs. Lynx says as her husband locks the door.

Oh fuck. This is not good…

We enter a bit of a back-and-forth, with me trying to convince them why they need to let me go and them telling me to calm down as they try to inject whatever is in that syringe.

“Get this shit away from me!” I shout, thrashing and yanking and trying to fight three people at once. Adrenaline floods me, but I’m not quite panicking yet. Instead, I’m using the rush to my advantage as I keep trying to punch them and get free.

“You really know how to pick them. It’s such a shame Terry bailed on us. He still hasn’t texted?” the man holding me down says, laughing.

I want out of here! They’ve lost their minds! I was doing so fine until now too, but what the fuck has gotten into them so suddenly? Shit, shit, shit, where is Aran?

“Fuck Terry and fuck you! Let me go, you psychos!”

Someone punches me in the ribs, knocking the air out of me. “Shut up, darling,” Mrs. Lynx leers, looming above me as black spots fill my vision and the cold tip of a needle touches my arm. “I promise you’ll love this. Just be still for a second.”