Page 81 of Piece Us Together
The urge to get up and run is nearly overwhelming all of a sudden. All I manage is to pull my hand away. I can’t look at either of them as I do it. I can hear my fucking heart beating wild in my chest.
“You got anything to drink here?”
There’s a weighty moment of silence. “Of course. We can’t play tonight, though. Not if you drink.”
“One drink?” I roll my eyes. “That’s a little dramatic.”
“Maison…” Nolan whispers. I don’t have to look at him to know he’s worried. “It’s—it’s the rules.”
The rules.
Hunter’srules.
“I’m not your sub,” I say yet again. It feels like my fucking motto these days. “You don’t make my rules.”
“Look at me.” Hunter says it softly. Not an order, not exactly, but not a request either. I take a breath. I don’t know why I feel so fucking afraid of looking at him or disappointing him or being touched by him. I don’t know why he fucks my head up so badly. All I know is I have to get my shit together and I have to do it right fucking now before he sees straight through me.
I’ve trained for this. I’m very fucking good at this. I will not let Hunter Meridian be the one that breaks me.
Only after I’ve stuffed everything down and put up my walls do I lift my chin and look at him. His eyes search my face for a moment, looking for something I’m not sure I want him to ever find. He smiles, but it’s sad. Almost resigned. “You can have a drink. We all can. And then we can sit and watch the movies and enjoy our night until it’s time for us all to go to sleep. I’m okay with that. I’m not saying you can’t drink. I am saying we can’t do anything kink-related or sexual tonight if you do. That’s the rule. My sub or not, you will respect it.”
Something prickles in me, wanting to fight against that, wanting to argue. I want to hit something—not him, god,neverhim, but justsomething, over and over again, until I bleed, until I can fucking breathe again.
“I’ve fucked him drunk before.”
“Good for you. You will not do so under my roof.”
“Maison,” Nolan says again, his voice soft, scared.
He’s worried I’m going to ruin this.
I ruin everything I fucking touch.
“Whatever.” I don’t want to be here anymore. I don’t want him looking at me. Either of them. I want to go to my office and lock the door, drown myself in whiskey while I make myself look at all the open files, all the people I’m failing to save. I want to punch things until I bleed. Or be punched until I bleed.
Sometimes I think I should be put on that metal rack again. The one Travis used. Sometimes I think that night wasn’t punishment enough.
What the fuck am I doing here? Having sex? Watching Marvel movies? Taking motherfucking naps?
How many people were hurt today while I enjoyed myself?
How many were killed?
“Nolan, keep an eye on the food.” A hand settles on the back of my neck. I jerk away, but it follows. It’s warm and firm. Not quite squeezing, but not just resting there either. “Maison, can you help me shovel the driveway? I’d like to get ahead of it before everything freezes tonight.”
I blink down at the counter where my hands are clenched into fists.
He wants me to fucking shovel?
“We can clear your car off, too.”
Ah.
He wants me to fuckingleave.
Fine.
Good.