In His Bed (18+)

Chapter 39

Midweek, I was in my room when a knock on my door sent my pulse skyrocketing.

"Hey, hun?"

My heartbeat pounded in my ears as I answered, "Yeah, Mom?"

"I just got a call from Robert; he wants to know if we can meet up again for brunch on Saturday?"

Sitting on the floor in front of my mirror, I glanced nervously down at my leg, wondering if I could get the ropes off fast enough.

The binding, a "frog tie," was wrapped around my thigh and my ankle, connecting them and forcing my knee to stay bent.

It was a position of a thousand delicious possibilities, leaving me helpless and vulnerable...

It would also be impossible to explain to my mother.

"Um, sure! That sounds good!"

"Did you check your schedule? It's not going to interfere with work, is it?"

My hands furiously tugged at the rope, undoing the knot, and unwinding the strands as fast as my fingers could move.

"No, I don't have to go in until noon." The tie loosened against my skin, and I slid it down my leg, leaving a tangled mess that I grabbed and shoved under my bed.

Standing, I made sure that the rope marks were covered before I opened my door.

"Are we meeting at the restaurant again?" I asked, nonchalant, acting like I hadn't just been practicing self-bondage.

"Well, he did mention his house as a possibility."

His house?

Curiosity got the better of me. "What's his house like?"

"I don't know," she admitted, "I've never been there. Robbie didn't exactly bring me home to meet his folks."

At the mention of my father's name, a darkness passed over her expression.

"Mom?"

She laughed, flat and humorless. "It's just... sometimes I think our relationship, and I can't believe that I let him treat me like that." Turning, her gaze met mine, "Hailey, promise me something?"

"What?"

Her answer hit me like a slap in the face.

"Don't ever waste your time on a man who acts like you're a dirty little secret."

My features froze in a desperate attempt to keep my emotions from showing.

She continued, "When we were together, Robbie made it very clear that he was ashamed of me, and that made me ashamed of myself. It took me a long time to realize that I didn't deserve to be treated that way." Laying a hand on my shoulder, she sighed, "I just don't want you repeating my mistakes, okay?"

Smiling to cover my inner turmoil, I nodded, "Okay, Mom."

Saturday arrived drizzly and grey, and as Mom and I stepped out of the car, I was confronted with just how wealthy my grandfather was.

The house, located at the end of a long, gated driveway, was surrounded with towering old trees and ornate iron fencing.

We'd parked in front of a detached three-stall garage, a modern concession that matched the aesthetic of the house despite being almost fifty years younger.

And the house...

Damn.

As Robert opened the front door to greet us, I fought the urge to gawk at the three-story mansion that stood behind him.

"Denise, Hailey, I'm so glad you could come over!"

"Well," my mother answered, "after last time, I thought it would be nice to have a 'do-over'." Turning, she subtly elbowed me in the ribs, "Right, Hailey?"

Swallowing, I nodded, "Right."

"Wonderful! Um," he glanced back at the house, "I have rolls and a breakfast casserole in the oven, but they've got a few more minutes. Would you like to start with coffee? Or I could give you a quick tour?"

"How about coffee first, tour later?" Mom suggested.

"Sounds like a plan – come on in!" With a broad smile, he led us up the porch and inside.

As the door closed behind us, Robert and Mom made small talk and I wondered if I'd stepped onto a TV show. The foyer alone looked like something out of Mom's soap operas, just pure, opulent fantasy.

As I glanced up, I almost expected to see a lighting rig.

Holy shit.

Lagging behind, I indulged in my curiosity, letting my eyes wander over the rooms we passed.

Midway down the hall, I peeked in one doorway and froze.

There, above a fireplace mantle, hung a massive family portrait.

A man and a woman stood, smiling, over a seated boy.

Dad?

Stepping into the shadowed room, I let myself examine the photo.

He couldn't have been older than twelve when this was taken.

Baby fat still rounded his cheeks, and his eyes held a hint of youthful innocence.

Eyes that look like mine...

In my mind, I tried to envision him at that age, running through these rooms, playful and carefree...

Slowly, hot, sickly anger began to build in my gut.

He'd gotten to enjoy a childhood in this house, with parents who didn't have to stay up nights worrying about paying rent, keeping the lights on, and keeping him safe.

He'd grown up with everything a child could need-

-and then he'd given his own daughter nothing.

Simmering rage shot through my veins.

Bastard.

"Hailey?" Mom called.

Scowling, I raised both middle fingers to my father's image and snarled, "Fuck you."

Pivoting on my heel, I walked out of the room toward my mother's voice.