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“Because I…” Sarah lowered her voice. “Because…” Reflected in her eyes were the three words Jaya had failed to say herself.

  Sarah looked away. “Oh, fuck it, never mind.” Sarah pulled her hand from Jaya’s grip. She turned and fled the cafe.

  “I love you too,” Jaya whispered at her back. Too late. Too late. She paid and left. The familiar ache settled in her heart.

  Chapter Seventeen

  WHAT WAS I thinking? Jaya kicked and punched the heavy bag hard. The chain clanked as the bag swung back at her. What. The. Fuck. Was. I. Thinking? The steady whump and force of the bag pushing back was sweet. The sweat dripped in her eyes. Jaya’s grunts and the sound of her hitting the heavy bag were loud in her ears. The muscles in her legs and arms ached, the pain sweet, cleansing.

  She had let Deidre back into her life, and once again the world had shifted out from under her. Why did I ever think I was in control? She was being played every time she was near Deidre. And the burns. Sarah with Andrea. When? Is she still? Fuck, maybe they are all in this together. Jealousy burned through her with a vicious flame.

  She pummeled the bag with combinations of kicks and punches, pushing visions of Sarah and Andrea out of her head. What the hell is wrong with her? If she wanted an exclusive relationship, why did she refuse me? Twice. Fucking love.

  Jaya was unaccustomed to losing. Not in school, not in business, not in life. But had the odds ever not been in her favor? If she were honest with herself, she had always sought out the easy marks. Women attracted by her bank account, or because they saw her as exotic, or a prize to be won. The same women who were quick to say no to Jaya when they found out what she desired. Jaya could do straight sex. She did it well but it left her empty, restless, wanting; desperate for the flow of power and the reward of small sighs and deep groans of pleasure, and the pain.

  Not anyone, not anymore. Sarah. She wanted to hear her sighs. Hear her talk. Hear her voice telling her what she wanted. She wanted to hear Sarah’s story. For the first time, Jaya wanted to hear and know someone. She had never even tried to understand Deidre. The first woman to understand Jaya’s desires, Deidre had been the first to kneel before her and call her Mistress. Enamored, she’d spent money on her freely, never saying no to anything she wanted, as willing to say yes to her whims outside the bedroom as Deidre was willing to say yes to everything Jaya asked for inside the bedroom.

  There had been a spark once. She had let it burn out, too absorbed in herself, in her business, in being what her father wanted. Ashamed of herself for wanting what she wanted, she hid Deidre away. Treated her like a dirty secret. Jaya’s heart ached as memories of Deidre leaving the first time bubbled up and blurred with visions of the final fight she’d had with her father. Memories of her brother’s face at her father’s bedside, accusing her. Hatred burning in his eyes. She couldn’t blame him. She had been her father’s favorite, and her brother had never been quite enough for her father. She had never refused her father until it came to the man he had chosen for her to marry. Tears pricked her eyes. The memories came harder, no matter how much Jaya tried to force them from her mind. Rowan House. Sarah. Tears merged with sweat and Jaya stopped, settling the bag and swiping at her stinging eyes with the back of her hand. Footsteps whispered on the stretched canvas floor. Dana handed her a towel.

  “Wanna talk?”

  The gentleness in Dana’s voice brought Jaya to her knees. “Yes. No. I…” Her shoulders shook as she cried. No sound escaped her, thanks to years of practice crying in the shower away from her father, her brother, anyone who might think her weak. The lone survivor in a houseful of men, raised by bodyguards. Taught to fight, taught to win, taught not to feel. No one taught her how to love.

  Dana rested her hand on Jaya’s shoulder and stayed with her until Jaya’s tears stopped. Her uniform was stiff with sweat when her tears dried. Dana helped her up and unwrapped her hands.

  Steam billowed around her as she stepped into the hot water. Turning her face to the spray, she let the hard stream pound on her body. Her nipples stung where the spray hit, and she turned her back. Think. I have to fix this. Fix me. Whatever it takes. But first she would have a meeting with Andrea. She flexed her hands.

  JAYA STOOD OUTSIDE Andrea’s building. Her apartment occupied the entire top floor. Jaya wondered how long it would be before she had to sell. She had watched as Andrea had overextended herself. Now she was so much in debt Jaya was waiting for her to file bankruptcy so she could make a few choice deals of her own. Business was business. Once she and Andrea had been friends, investing partners, and occasional lovers. Before Deidre decided she liked what Andrea had to offer and left Jaya for a bigger bank account. The doorman called up to Andrea’s apartment and held the door for Jaya as she swept inside. The lobby was shabby chic. Antique furniture crowded the room. A collection of older lesbians sat in groups, talking and drinking coffee. Andrea had turned many of the apartments into residences for them, and Jaya admired her for creating safe places for them to live their lives, safe, out and proud. She nodded at a few women she recognized from the days when she’d spent as much time here as her own apartment.

  “Jaya Pomroy, is that you? Come sit with an old woman.” A regal woman with gray hair patted the couch next to her. A dapper dyke with her hair slicked back and her pants impeccably pressed, Bert was a fixture in the lobby. She had been Andrea’s assistant for as long as Jaya had known Andrea. She had run play parties back in the day and taught Jaya everything she knew about whips and floggers.

  “Sure, Bert. How’ve you been?”

  “You get over yourself and decide to come back to us?”

  Jaya sucked in a breath. “I came to see Andrea.”

  Bert snorted. She cocked her head to the side, her eyes hard.

  “Don’t waste your time being angry.”

  “I’m not angry.”

  “Liar. I have known you since you didn’t know the right end of the whip.”

  Jaya looked away. She missed this. Not the play parties as much as the women here. Most of them were older than Jaya, not exactly mothers to her but something she’d missed growing up. A company of women. Strong and resilient in the face of bigotry, these women had fought for their place in the world, and had pushed Jaya to own who she was, to come out, to be herself.

  “I have to go. Don’t want to be late.” She left Bert simmering with frustration and knew without looking Bert’s eyes never left her back. The elevator took so long to arrive she considered walking the nineteen floors up to Andrea’s apartment. On the ride up, she shook out her hands to keep herself loose. Sweat rolled down her face and she wiped it with her handkerchief. The elevator doors opened and she swallowed hard. Andrea’s apartment was the only one on the long hall. The red carpet covering the floor was worn thin in spots. She lifted the ornate knocker with the lion’s head and let it fall once.

  Deidre opened the door and Jaya stepped back. Great. Can this day get any better? The faint smell of cigar smoke wafted from the door. Jaya’s stomach roiled.

  “Surprise.” Deidre wore nothing but a collar. Jaya curled her fingers, resisting the urge to slap the smirk off Deidre’s face.

  “In your place, Deidre. I’ve had about enough of you today.” Andrea’s quiet voice, full of menace, had the same effect. Deidre’s smile disappeared and she knelt, head down, hands up.

  Andrea slapped her as she walked by and extended her hand to Jaya.

  Jaya took it and then Andrea’s arms were around her and she softened. They never should’ve been lovers or business partners, but she ached with the loss of their friendship.

  “I’ve missed you.” The hug was awkward and Jaya peeled her ex-best friend’s arms off her gently. Focus. I’ve got to focus. Before I lose my will to ask. She hated asking, not wanting to hear the answer, knowing it already.

  “Are you involved with Sarah Kerr?” Jaya smoothed her hands down her pants, forcing herself to not clench her fists.

  “Never one for small talk.” Andrea mot
ioned for Deidre to leave them.

  “She can stay. She’s in this too.” Jaya tipped her chin at Deidre.

  “You are not in charge here.” Andrea’s voice rose on the last note, and Jaya shifted her weight to her rear leg, casually shifting her feet to a fighting stance. She did not expect Andrea to lose control, but it was better to be ready. Deidre looked from one to the other of them. Her eyes narrowed and she appeared to be trying to calculate the return on her loyalty. If she follows my commands, she will be out; if she follows Andrea’s commands she will be safe, until I tell Andrea who told me about the burns.

  “I am not leaving here without an answer.” Jaya widened her stance.

  “I don’t keep track of every bit of fluff I play with.” Andrea rubbed her nose, avoiding Jaya’s eyes. Jaya was more than certain now.

  “You’re lying. You never were good at it.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake, why do you care so much? I met her at Rowan House.”

  “Are you still seeing her?” Jaya shifted her weight and crossed her arms.

  “What?” Andrea’s face blanched and her eyes went wide. “No. Is she here?” The truth this time. And a little too much interest.

  “Yes.”

  Andrea turned away. She walked to the sideboard and poured herself a whiskey, neat. She tossed it back without offering Jaya anything.

  “Deidre, did you know Sarah was here?” Andrea’s voice, rough from the whiskey, cut the silence.

  “Not until two days ago.” Deidre did her best to look honest, and if she had not lied to Jaya so many times in the past, she would have thought she was telling the truth now.

  “Before or after you were with Jaya again?” Andrea poured herself another drink. This time, she motioned for Jaya to help herself. She turned to Deidre. Jaya thought about what Andrea had said while she poured herself a brandy. Stupid, I am so stupid. She was playing both of us. Again.

  Deidre did not move. She held the submissive position, keeping her head down. Her silence annoyed Jaya. Andrea snorted in Deidre’s direction. Caught the web of lies she had spun, Deidre waited.

  “You can break form and talk to us now. This is not playtime.” Andrea finished her second drink as quickly as the first. Years of business dinners and life with a raging alcoholic of a father had taught Jaya the benefits of staying sober in negotiations, and she placed her brandy on the side table. Deidre rose from the floor and faced them.

  “So, it’s like that, is it? Both of you can go to hell.” She turned to leave and Andrea blocked the way.

  “Answer me. You owe me that much.”

  “Owe you? No. I owe you nothing. I’ve never refused you. Never used my safe word. I let you own me in every way you wanted to. If anything, you owe me.” She shoved Andrea’s hand aside and flounced down the hall.

  Andrea turned to Jaya. “I don’t care if she was with you. It’s the lying I can’t take.” She pulled the stopper from the decanter to pour herself a third drink and Jaya placed a hand over hers.

  “Don’t do this to yourself.” She took the glass from Andrea’s hand and corked the bottle. “She’s not worth it.”

  “You thought she was at one time.” Andrea’s eyes were hard.

  “People change.” Jaya met Andrea’s hard stare with one of her own. “What is Sarah to you?” She took a breath to steady herself.

  “A mistake. A miscalculation.”

  “You hurt her.” Jaya curled her hand until her nails dug into her palms. “You marked her without consent.”

  “Yes.” Andrea’s gaze went from hard to pained. “I hurt her. Rowan House operates by its own rules. I’ve regretted it every day since.” Andrea shoved Jaya’s hand aside. She uncorked the bottle and splashed more whiskey in her glass. “I left an overly generous tip, but I will never get the look in her eyes out of my head.”

  Deidre stormed by. She tossed her collar on the side table between them without stopping and left. The soft click of the door latch echoed in the room.

  Andrea sighed and tossed back another shot. That makes three. And too fast. Jaya left her brandy untouched. She had seen Andrea drunk too many times to take a chance on drinking herself.

  “So now what?” Andrea’s words were slurred around the edges, the third whiskey hitting her hard.

  “Are you asking my advice? Stay the hell away from Sarah.”

  “Noted.” She walked to the sideboard and picked up the bottle. Not bothering with a glass this time, she tipped it back. Jaya turned away. She let herself out.

  Bert was dozing in her chair in the lobby and Jaya left without saying good-bye, not wanting to wake her. Julie brought the car up and she climbed in, unsure what to do next. She wanted to talk to Sarah. Julie waited for her instructions, maintaining eye contact in the rearview mirror.

  “Let’s go home.” She leaned back and drummed her fingers on the armrest of the town car.

  JAYA READ THE text from Sarah again. She tossed the phone on the kitchen table. At least she texted me. She had been happy when the message hit her screen until she read it. She had been able to read the truth behind the words. Sarah was in trouble and at risk of losing everything she had worked for at the university. Jaya chewed her lip. She should have expected it. Andrea hated to lose and would do whatever she needed to make enough money to keep Deidre happy. Her father had taught her how to play games like this. Friend or no, she would not allow anyone to use her to hurt Sarah. She called Julie to bring the car around. She unlocked the closet she had kept locked since she had closed the business. She picked up her kubotan and slipped it in her pocket, the weight heavy and familiar. Sliding her boot knife in place, she considered the Walther and left it. The laws were extremely strict in the city and she had not applied for a concealed carry permit here, wanting to close the door on that part of her life. She locked the closet. After texting a quick message to Andrea, she tucked her phone in her pocket. If she wants to play, it’s about to be on.

  “BUSINESS OR SOCIAL call?” Bert called from the couch. Ever loyal to Andrea, she eyed Jaya while shifting her cane to her other hand. The bulge of the sidearm she wore tented her suit jacket. Jaya kept her face neutral and raised her arms, lifting her jacket to show she was not carrying.

  “Business, Bert. You want to pat me down?” She smiled, keeping her voice light.

  “Nah. You’d enjoy it too much.” Bert waved her hand at the elevator. “You know the way. Don’t make me sorry I didn’t pat you down.” She allowed the handle of the pistol she carried to show, her look letting Jaya know she would use it if she had to.

  “I’m here to talk. If anyone starts anything, it won’t be me.”

  “If anyone starts anything, I’ll finish it.” She sat back and snapped her newspaper open, dismissing Jaya.

  Jaya took the elevator to the penthouse, breathing deeply to keep her anger in check. If she has any kind of sense, she’ll take the deal.

  The door to the apartment was open. Andrea waited in the opening, a drink in her hand. She stepped back from the door wordlessly, her gait off-balance. Jaya was more on edge now. Andrea on a good day was dangerous, doubly so on a day she had been drinking.

  “You want something?” Andrea’s gaze was as flat as her voice as she refilled her glass.

  “A little early for me.” Jaya kept her voice even.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company this morning?” Andrea stepped close, thrusting her face forward. Her breath was hot and sickly sweet from the whiskey.

  “Your note to Sarah.”

  Andrea raised her eyebrow. “And?”

  “And you will leave her alone. She hasn’t got a dime, Andrea. What the fuck are you trying to pull?”

  “A business transaction. I gave her a considerable sum of money after Rowan House and I want it back.”

  “She doesn’t owe you a dime.”

  “Ahh, but that’s not the point, is it? She doesn’t want anyone to know about Rowan House. It is a fee to keep certain information from reaching certa
in people.”

  Jaya’s fingers twitched. So easy. It would be so easy to end this right now.

  “Are you that broke you’re shaking down grad students? Why don’t you have Deidre hock all the jewelry you gave her? Or sell a car or two?”

  Andrea tossed back her drink. “I don’t know where she is. She took the jewelry with her. The cars were sold long ago. All I have left is this building.” She turned, squaring herself up to Jaya. “And information.”

  Jaya stepped close and grabbed the front of Andrea’s shirt. She twisted her fist in the fabric and brought the kubotan up, digging the tip into the hollow of Andrea’s neck.

  “I will end you if you harm her again.”

  Andrea’s laugh was harsh in her ears. Drunk. Too drunk to be scared. She heard the rustle of fabric behind her. Cold metal pressed against the side of her neck.

  “You want to play rough, Jaya?” The giddy edge in Deidre’s voice made Jaya release Andrea. She opened her hand, letting the kubotan fall, and released Andrea’s shirt. Making a show of straightening her clothes, Andrea eased herself into a chair facing Jaya. Deidre kept the knife to Jaya’s throat. Sensing Deidre’s eagerness, Jaya kept still, willing herself to be calm.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Andrea rubbed her neck. “Should I let Deidre end this?”

  “You’d never get the stains off your carpet if she slices my neck. Why don’t you tell her to stand down before someone gets hurt?”

  “Bold talk for a woman with a knife at her throat.”

  “It’s not the first time. I don’t think you want to find out how this ends if you don’t tell her to stand down.” Jaya shifted her weight, ready to do what she needed to get out of the apartment alive.

  “And if I don’t?” Andrea was sober now, her voice steady and eyes even.

  “I wouldn’t want to be you when I finish with Deidre.”

  Deidre snorted. Jaya’s fingers twitched. Do it. Give me a reason to end both of you right now. Give me an excuse to vent all of my rage and pain. Without Sarah, it doesn’t matter anyway.