So I speak. “No.”
“But you like sucking Derek’s cock, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Do you like fucking Derek, Ashton?”
I continue to answer his questions honestly and quickly. “Yes.”
“Do you like his cock?” He’s smiling crookedly at me as Derek breathes slowly beside me.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He’s…” And the word comes tumbling from my mouth. “Impressive…”
“Impressive even? Huh…”
He rubs his chin as he appraises me, but my head is sinking and my eyes are closing no matter how hard I fight to keep them open. As my head hits my hand propped on the arm of the chair, I drift peacefully into another place. I’m almost upset when Derek demands that we leave. I’m too comfortable to stand, but Mr. Grayson isn’t finished talking yet, and as I continue to float in space, I listen. I understand nothing of what I hear, even though I know it means something important.
“How dare you.” It’s Derek. I don’t need to see him to know he’s speaking through clenched teeth, and his words are seething with fury.
“I own her, and I’ll do whatever I choose to her.” Grayson is taunting.
“Well, don’t get too comfortable. There’s nothing stopping me from releasing her from her obligations.”
“How quickly you forget your responsibility to Trimbles, Derek.” He’s still taunting, but his words make no sense to me.
“You needn’t worry about that. I’m not going anywhere, but Ashton will not be a part of this.”
“Oh, I think she will, and she’s not going anywhere unless you want to see our deal broken. It’s fine with me of course…” Threat. I don’t know what it means, but he’s threatening Derek.
“That wasn’t the deal we made.” Derek is seething again, and I’m still floating in the land of confusion.
“What can I say? I’m not an honest man.” I can almost hear the mocking shrug of his shoulders at this admission, and Derek’s deep breathing beside me as he fights to maintain control is equally obvious. With his final admission, Mr. Grayson dismisses us. “Now get that pathetic whore out of my house. I hope she fucks better than she gives head.”
With a final “fuck you” to Mr. Grayson, Derek stands and helps me to my feet. He walks us quickly to the limo while my feet stumble across the floor, but he’s holding me tightly, and I know he’ll get me there. I crawl in on the back seat, and rather than taking his normal seat across from me, he sits beside me as my head slowly sinks to his lap. I remember little of the ride home, and even less of what came after. But my dreams were incredible.
In my dreams, he reassured me with soft words I know I’ll never recall. He touched and caressed my body slowly in exactly the way I always crave from him. My hair was stroked gently and slowly, and I was surrounded by feelings of his safety and security.
Chapter 11
When I wake the next morning, I’m unclothed and comfortable in my bed. Liz is sitting in the chaise lounge waiting for me to wake. It’s late, nearly lunch time, and as she sees my eyes open, she smiles warmly and moves to my side. The concern in her eyes is palpable. When she rests a gentle hand on my arm and asks me how I am, my eyes tear. I’m safe again, but the fear and panic of the night before are so easily felt and remembered. I think of Derek. He was in hell last night, nearly as much as me, and I can’t help but worry about him. But my mind is hazy, and as I look around, I realize that I have no idea how I got here.
But Liz does. She fills in the details and then some. Derek called her when we arrived back at Trimbles. She met him as he carried me from the elevator, and helped him get me settled in bed.
My heart aches for her and her compassion as I realize she must have spent the night on the chaise waiting for me to wake, but as I thank her for staying with me, she stills me quickly. “Ash, I wanted to stay, but Derek refused. When I left, he was the one still here with you … and by the look of your bed, he didn’t leave…” I look to the other side of the bed, noticing for the first time that it is unmade, and the soft, down pillow has very obviously been slept on. But he’s not here now, and as I look to her in confusion, she speaks again. “He looked … shell shocked. Desperate… I don’t know what’s going on with you two, but I’ve never seen him as … human as he was with you last night.” She gives me a crooked smile with curiosity showing clearly in her eyes.
I look away quickly, not sure what to say, not sure, in fact, what to think. But a question lingers in my mind. It is the question that has been lodged in my brain since the first moment I watched Mr. Grayson and Derek together in my interview. It has gnawed at me slowly with every passing day, and after last night, it is in the forefront of my mind. “Why do they hate each other so much?”
I’m referring to Derek and Mr. Grayson, of course, and Liz understands my reference with no further explanation. “God, Ash. You tell me. They’ve hated one another as long as I’ve been here, which is going on five years. Truthfully, I think Mr. Grayson’s found a pawn in you that he didn’t have before.” This last statement is spoken with an exasperated and defeated shake of the head. She feels bad for Derek, and in some odd way, it warms my heart for her all the more.
I shower while Liz waits to walk me to the common room for lunch. My dreams come slowly back to me as the warm water rains down on me, but they weren’t dreams at all, were they? He was my reality last night, and I can’t remember a damn thing about it! I was touched, caressed, my hair was stroked, and he spoke to me. God, why can’t I remember what he said? Damn drugs. I wanted them so much the night before, but I’d give anything to get my memory back now. He was here with me. He didn’t leave. He touched me, but I’m certain he didn’t fuck me; he caressed me, and he spoke quiet words to me. What I thought were my dreams were filled with feelings of being cherished, cared for. But that isn’t Derek. That isn’t how he works. God, why can’t I remember? I want those memories back. I need those memories.
I eventually give up on my brain and quickly pull my hair back to join Liz for lunch. As we enter the common room, my housemates are gathered around the table watching me warily as always. But after the night before, even the distant and cold treatment of my housemates seems warm, and I want nothing but to join them. I take my place next to Liz, and, as I expected, they regard me coolly. It is the treatment I’ve gotten used to since the incident with Shelby. Since that time, it has become difficult to convince any of them that Derek doesn’t regard me in some way different from them, and doesn’t he? Mr. Grayson said as much himself, and wasn’t it the reason for his torture? It hasn’t escaped anyone’s attention that Derek has continued to spend his time with only me, and I’ve been thankful for that more than I care to admit. The idea of him touching one of the other girls is painful and sends stabs of jealousy through my body. However hazy my mind is today, I remember the feeling of his touch, the strokes, and the comfort, so completely new to me but so incredibly needed. And I’m jealously protective of this.
While I’m sitting at the dining room table having coffee with the others, the conversation turns, as it often does, to Mr. Pennington. The leading questions that always seem to move quickly to how often I see him are a daily barrage that I have to put up with if I have any hope of getting my daily caffeine intake. On this day, however, the questions take a most decadently negative turn when Veronica announces she’s spending the evening with Mr. Pennington. My breath hitches audibly and loudly, and I have to fight for my next one. All eyes suddenly snap to mine, and mine are overly wide in shock and devastation. I give a slightly awkward and completely contrived smile as I stand to leave, with Liz following close behind me.