Hold Me by W. Winters
Zander
The keys jingle in my hand, the car alarm confirming I’ve locked it as I make my way to the back door by the kitchen.
The pressed jacket feels stiff, but it’s tailored and, more importantly, Ella chose it. I allowed her to pick my outfit for this occasion. It’s a sharp look and well dressed. With black slacks, a dark brown belt, black collared shirt and the gray-blue jacket I’m wearing in this single look, the cost is equivalent to an entire paycheck.
But I promised her, I would stay on her arm, I would escort her and I would wear whatever she wanted.
It’s well past sunset and I’m eager to see what she’s chosen for herself. Checking my watch, I know we have some time in case she’s still running behind like she texted she was.
The lights are on in her kitchen and I let out a sigh of relief that surprises me. I understand what Damon meant about Ella needing time to be alone, but it’s damn good to get back to her, to be present and know I’ll be kissing her, touching her in ways that’ll make her shiver. It’s addictive and simply walking in the back door is like getting a hit of my favorite drug.
Every single time. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this.
The moment I close the back door, Kam enters the kitchen, none too quietly. It’s intentional, almost as if he was waiting for me.
“Kamden,” I say, greeting him with an easy tone that’s just as intentional. He opens his mouth, looking like he wants to question me, but I have one first.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you—when Ella was younger—you two were close?” Standing at the threshold between the small nook and kitchen, he stills, his eyes narrowing. Taking a few steps in, I meet him halfway. “I know she was good friends with your sister. Is that why you took custody?”
He blinks. “I took custody because she needed someone and our families have been friends forever. It was a great tragedy.” His mask slips on easily. Public relations 101. “I wasn’t about to let just anyone step in. You never know what will happen when someone gets control over a young woman like Ella was … and her assets.”
“Control?” My hackles go up, but I remain poised as he assesses me. Taking a few steps, I stop behind a chair at the table and grip the back of it.
“I mean regarding her assets. Custody is a tricky issue,” he tells me, pulling out a seat, but not yet taking it. His gaze reaches mine as he adds, “When you have as much money as Ella does, it’s shark-infested waters.”
“That’s understandable.” I’ve been waiting to ask him this, and it spills out of me before I can stop it. “Do you know if there’s any truth to the rumors that there was foul play with her mother’s death?”
Kamden shakes his head like this is the most bizarre conversation he’s ever been part of, which can’t be true. “Not at all.”
“There’s a number of theories—”
“Why would you look into that?” His voice is slightly raised and he seems to shake it off, laughing slightly although he doesn’t look me in the eye. “That doesn’t have anything to do with—”
“There were theories. Rumors that caught my attention after what she said the other day.”
That statement makes Kamden pause. He swallows thickly before looking back at me, his mask back on and firmly in place. He knows something. He damn well knows he does.
Ella’s kitchen is warm, and Kamden lets out a breath. He leans against the counter and looks at me. “People love a scandal. You know what I think?”
“I don’t. I would appreciate it if you told me.”
He chews the inside of his cheek. “I think it wasn’t her mother who killed her father’s first wife. I think he did it. I think she took the fall, and he had her murdered in prison.” Kam’s eyes narrow and his voice lowers. “I also think … that I’m glad he’s dead.”
“Zander.” Damon enters the kitchen, mid conversation. “Am I interrupting?”
“No,” I say and then swallow, not wanting to involve Damon in this. “We should talk later, though,” I tell Kam, my grip white knuckled on the back of the chair. There’s a cold sweat on the back of my neck.
Whatever happened, I’m almost certain Kam knows every detail. And a part of me wonders, what does Ella know?
The other night, she was anything but okay remembering her mother. If someone hurt her or coerced her … I don’t know what I’ll do, but it takes everything in me, in this moment, to calm the rage that simmers inside.
“I wouldn’t look too much into it.” Kam attempts to reassure me as Damon rounds the corner of the kitchen, opening the fridge and disappearing behind the door.
“Just seemed like there might be something I should know,” I say, keeping Kam’s gaze as he slips on his jacket.
“We’re on the same side when it comes to this. And the part that matters, is that it’s over. It’s long dead and it should stay that way.”
There’s a moment between us, but the moment Damon closes the door to the fridge, bottle of water in hand, it’s gone.
Kamden addresses Damon first, and then me. “I’m on my way out. Have a good time at the party tonight.”
He leaves, and I watch him go.
“You all right, man?” Damon questions. Relaxing my posture and letting out a deep breath, I decide to keep what just happened between Kamden and me. That conversation isn’t over.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Don’t worry about the party. It’ll be packed and might be intense for the both of you. But you can always leave.” I stare at Damon, unblinking.
“You’re my therapist now?” I ask deadpan and instantly the tension in my shoulders lifts.
He laughs, setting the bottle down. “I’m just picking up on the tension is all. You look sharp, she’s excited and I think she’s ready.”
I can’t help but to smile at the idea of my little bird being excited. Everything about her is fuller, lighter, happier than she was when I first saw her in the courtroom. Nearly everything. The vulnerability is still there and she’s still so very breakable.
Damon adds, “There’s no reason to be concerned.”
“I’ll have a better time when it’s over and everything goes well.”
The thought of the party doesn’t thrill me. There’s a delicate balance between us right now and I’m certain she has the upper hand with what to expect with this party. This is necessary, though.
“She told me tonight could set a precedent for the order to be dissolved?”
“That’s the plan that Cade and Kamden have agreed on.”
“What exactly are they looking for?”
“Returning to normal documented behavior and presenting it to the judge.”
“Good.” I nod along with the plan. It’s ideal. It should be straightforward. And it aligns with what Ella told me, so they’re being transparent with her.
“How’s she been today?”
“She’s been ... seeking pleasure.” Damon doesn’t look at me, and there’s a tilt of his head.
I don’t understand at first. “In her journaling?”
“No. Not in her journaling.” Damon looks me straight in the eye.
Oh, fuck. That kind of pleasure. The kind of pleasure I ordered her to have. Just the thought of her enjoying herself makes my cock stir. That’s my good girl. “Thoughts on that?”
“It’s a good sign that she’s doing better.”
“That makes me happy to hear.”
Damon nods in agreement. “You seem lighter,” I comment.
“I think tonight is going to go well. We talked about it earlier. Ella is ready and looking forward to it.”
Before I can say a word, he adds, “She asked me about drinking tonight.”
“Drinking?”
“It’s a social event. She said she’ll most certainly be around it and be tempted.”
“What did you tell her?”
“She’s weaning off the antidepressants. She should use her best judgment, but a glass would be all right. Maybe sticking to only one drink would be best.”
“Sounds good.” It does not sound good. I want to close the kitchen door behind Damon, take her upstairs, and strip her clothes off. I want nothing between us but air. And then I want to figure this out. It would be easier if I could breathe her in. Taste her.
Protect her from any pressures that would move her too quickly, too close to dangerous territory.
“You sure you’re good with going to the party by yourself?” There’s no hint of judgment in Damon’s voice. None at all. “I could go, if you want a second pair of hands.”
“Silas will be in the parking lot, won’t he?”
Damon nods. “He’s already there, waiting. I’m off duty and you are officially her chauffeur.”
I huff a laugh at my job description and already feel relieved knowing Silas is in place. “I’ll be fine. I doubt things will go too late.”
“I’ll have my phone if you need anything.” Damon slaps me on the shoulder on his way past. “Any time, day or night.”
“I know it.”
“I’m headed out. Seriously—you’ll call if you need anything?”
“I’ll call.”
“Okay. Have a good time.”
With the door shutting behind him, there’s a feeling that takes over. A need to go to her, to kiss her, to brush her hair to the side and tell her what a good girl she’s been. I call her name into the house, and a soft noise from upstairs answers.
She’s in the bathroom in her bedroom, the light slanting into the hallway from the open door. I’m drawn to it, and it seems for a second that she’s the light source.
The glow inside the bathroom caresses her hair, which has been gently curled and cascades down over her shoulders. Ella leans in close to the mirror, her hips pressed against the countertop, and an animal urge claws at me from the inside out. I could take her like that. I could brace her hips in my hands so they wouldn’t get bruised on the counter and command her to watch how beautiful she looks in the mirror while I fuck her.
With my grip on the threshold, I stay where I am, watching her instead.
The light shines off the silver tube of lipstick in her hand. Red, to go with the black dress hugging her hips and skimming her thighs. High heels lift her legs into a criminally beautiful stretch. Is my heart even beating?
Ella finishes and presses her lips together, then blots at the color with a tissue. I have the oddest feeling that I’m watching something out of the past. A memory come to life, right here in this house. This gorgeous woman, in her former glory.
She looks at me over her slender shoulder and shoots me a sultry look as her gaze roams down my body. As if she’s the huntress.
How utterly fucking adorable.
“Hey, Z.”
“I’d punish you for not greeting me on your knees, but it’d be a shame to wrinkle that dress.” Color rushes to her cheeks and there’s a glint of mischievousness in her dark eyes. “You look gorgeous, Ella.”
“Are you ready?” I ask her.
“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
It’s quiet as I lead her downstairs, her hand tightly holding mine.
The spark between us is magnetized, the air electric as I help her into the car. She’s graceful but most of all, quiet.
“Z,” her voice murmurs over the hum of the car before we’ve even left her house. “Whatever happens tonight, just … you’ll still want me, won’t you?”
“Why do you say it like that?”
“People will ask questions.”
“People are irrelevant when it comes to our relationship.”
“You say that,” she says and brushes a stray hair from in front of her face. “But what about when they ask if there’s anything between us?”
My pulse races with the way she looks at me. As if saying the wrong answer now will stay with her forever. I’m weak in this moment. Weak for her and the thought of her walking away.
“I’ll be there when you answer, and whatever you tell them is what I’ll say.”
“What if I tell them that we’re together. That we’re … an item?”
“Like I said, whatever you tell them, I’ll agree with.”
* * *
The host,a socialite in the elite circles Kelly entertains, lives at another ritzy house a twenty-minute drive away. Not quite as expansive as Ella’s home, but it’s up there.
And it’s crawling with guests. Expensive cars are parked along the half-circle drive. Music pours out into the front gardens. Chatter is heard from the house and even those gallivanting in the yard. It’s a sight to behold. The sheer luxury and expense of the evening doesn’t hide behind a curtain. It creates a spotlight for itself.
We haven’t been out of the car thirty seconds when my phone buzzes for the first time.
Damon’s name is displayed on the screen. I don’t have time to check it this second. I need to be aware of what's going on around us and aware of how Ella’s behaving. And at this very second, she’s ahead of me, in the chaos of the crowd. The sky is pitch black and with everyone around her blurring, she peeks over her shoulder, eyeing me with a happiness I haven’t seen from her. One that lights up everything around her.
The phone buzzes again a second later.
Cade.
“Z,” she calls out, turning around but not stopping her stride. As she twirls back around, she reaches out for me to take her hand. Hers slips into mine and my phone slips in my back pocket. Let us at least get settled. There’s nothing to report just yet.
“How are you?” I check with her as she squeezes my hand.
“Excited,” she confesses with a beautiful smile, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “You?”
“I’m happy you’re happy.”
There’s a photo op at the front entrance and Ella poses without me, then pulls me in behind her for a shot. A photographer calls out, “Who’s the gentleman?” She ignores the question, choosing to wink at him instead.
“Cheeky girl,” I tease when she takes my hand again. She’s delighted, mischievous and it’s a thrilling sight.
As soon as we’ve relinquished our coats at the door check, a clutch of women I don’t recognize descend on Ella, greeting her with shrieks and hugs and so much touching that I angle myself closer to her to give her some breathing room. Her face is lit up with exhilaration, color in her cheeks and a glint in her eyes.
She glances at me. I put my hand on the small of her back and lean down to speak into her ear. “If this is too much, give the signal.” Three fingers directly over her lips, the tip of her middle finger resting on the tip of her nose, means I’ll immediately intervene.
“I know,” she whispers and takes a step ahead of me. I stay back, letting her readjust to something that I’m sure has been familiar all her life. It’s almost as if she’s the client once again. I’m here to protect her, to shield her. I’m here to offer her comfort if she needs it.
And judging by the sweet laugh that she utters from her lips, she doesn’t need me. Not in this moment.
As she looks up at me from under her lashes, my phone buzzes again.
There are more people than I expected. I try to refocus to keep an eye on all of them in relation to Ella.
Another message. I glance down at my phone and see both Cade and Damon are checking in. There’s no emergency, nothing to cause alarm.
I text them back, everything going as planned.
A light touch on my arm draws my attention. It’s Ella, her dark eyes searching my face. “Can we go somewhere and talk?” Something’s off.
“Of course.” My answer is irrelevant. Ella’s attention is quickly drawn away.
“Ella!”
Trish pushes her way through the crowd to get to Ella’s side and wraps her up in a giddy hug. “People are waiting for you. Come on, let’s go.”
“Who’s here?” Ella asks.
“Old friends, new friends … and everyone worth showing off the new you to.”
Trish leads Ella up a flight of stairs and toward the back of the house. I stay a few steps behind but I don’t miss how Ella checks on me. Each time she peeks over her shoulder I offer her a calm smile.
“You good?” she mouths at me. As if she’s the one who should be worried and not the other way around.
I eye her in a way she should recognize and then tap her ass to keep it moving. Her shy smile and the way she bites her lip are everything. They go out through a set of open double doors. It doesn’t make sense that the doors are open—it’s too late in the year—until I step out after them.
It’s a massive heated porch. On the other side is a long bar.
The partying on this level is far more intense. Trish and Ella join up with a crowd near the bar.
Someone hands her a drink. Someone I don’t recognize but Ella obviously does.
“Cheers,” the woman yells over the loud din from everyone one else out here, and Ella drinks from her glass. It’s only a sip at first, but it doesn’t take long for more people and more sips until it’s drained along with the rest of them.
“Zander,” calls Trish over her shoulder, and I step forward so she can introduce me to their friends. I don’t hear any of the names she says while I shake hand after hand, looking into one glazed-over pair of eyes and then another.
They’re wasted. Every person here is drinking heavily and as I’m politely shaking hands. Ella accepts another drink. Red flags. This is a sea of red flags.