Someone was following Abigail.
She didn’t know who it was, and she wasn’t one hundred percent sure she was being watched. But the thin hairs behind her neck stood in alert with every step. It wasn’t due to the weather, although the sun had gone down and the moon was slowly rising, the gusts of wind had stabilized.
She let out a shiver that shook her entire body. The whole thing gave her the heebie-jeebies.
Who would want to follow her, anyway? Her life was not fancy or exciting. Although her mom was well-known for her publishing company, she wasn’t a celebrity. Not many knew of Abigail Bennett, editor of Sinclair Press, daughter to Melissa Sinclair and Michael Bennett, sister of Michael Bennett Jr. She was average with a nice rack but other than that there was nothing special about her. So, who in their right mind would be following her?
Then again it could just be her imagination.
She hadn’t been able to sleep in the last four days, twisting and turning on the sheets because her scars hurt whenever they touched cotton sheets. Now, she was thankful her master had made her sleep on the cold floor. Now, she was thankful for the cold showers.
Was it weird she missed having him around?
His smell.
His voice.
The feeling of his hands on her body, her throat, her wrists. Her life solely depending on no one other than him.
She’d only known him for less than five days, but he’d left scars in her life far deeper than the ones he’d tattooed on her skin. Each slash was a souvenir of the most unforgettable night of her life. If Master Trice didn’t want her anymore because of her loose mouth and disobedient attitude, she’d at least have those as a remembrance.
Stopping by a newsstand, Abigail pretended to look at the New York Times and scandalous magazines with even more scandalous headlines. Maybe the person following her would get closer and she’d be able to tell who he or she was.
Abigail turned casually from side to side, glancing around the streets with the magazine obscuring most of her eyes.
Everyone looked suspicious.
The woman resting below a tree was an undercover detective pretending to be homeless. The father with a camera in his hand wasn’t taking pictures of his children feeding the birds but of her. Tourists were talking and pointing at her, not the Empire State Building a few blocks ahead.
Feeling the stranger watch from afar, Abigail placed the magazine down and turned left on 23rd Street.
New York City was a stalker’s paradise. It was impossible to look out of place in a city filled with pedestrians. It was impossible to notice anyone.
With a hand inside her purse, she felt around for the pepper spray. She gripped it harshly and placed it inside her coat jacket.
Hurrying her steps, she turned into an alley and waited for the stalker to pass. Her pepper spray was ready to damage the eyes of the intruder. As soon as the person passed, Abigail pressed down her thumb and a gush of spray covered the perpetrator’s face.
“Ahhh!” Brown streaks of hair flew in all directions as the person scratched their eyes.
She didn’t know why but she screamed along with the stalker, apologizing for protecting her life.
“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.”
“Abigail, what did you do?” the voice sounded overly familiar. At a closer glance, the black pants and white ruffled blouse looked familiar, too.
“Jesus Christ!” Her hand went to her chest. “Mom! Have you lost your damn mind?”
“My eyes sting! What did—Oh, Lord, Abigail. Pepper spray? Really?”
“Here.” She guided her mother out of the alley and to a bench. Abigail took out the water bottle she always carried in her purse. “Open your eyes.”
“Why would you do such a thing to me?” Her mother cried, her eyes swollen red with water and tears. She looked awful. Not her usual intimidating self at the office but more of a sad clown.
“I don’t know. I panicked. I thought someone was stalking me. You were following me! Why were you following me?”
“Just. Give me a minute, okay?” Mrs. Sinclair asked with a raised hand. Her New York accent came out thicker than usual when she was fluttered.
After a while, her mother spoke. “I wasn’t following you. I was worried. You left work early today. I thought you were sick or something, so I went to your house to see you dressed all fancy walking down the steps. That’s a very short dress, by the way. You’re going to catch a cold.” Abigail rolled her eyes as her mother continued, “I thought you had a date. I wanted to see who he was.”
“First of all, Mike gave me this dress and the coat I have on. Not to mention, I’m wearing boots that cover my knees and half of my thighs, so I think I’m cozy enough. And, oh, my goodness, Momma. You couldn’t just ask me what was wrong? A text would’ve sufficed. We work together. You’re my mother. This whole thing could’ve easily been avoided. I was this close to calling the police. This close!”
“I know. I know. But I thought you didn’t want anyone to know.”
“Assuming your theory was correct, which by the way it isn’t, you thought you’d just ignore my wishes and sneak around?”
Mrs. Sinclair lowered her chin. “Well, now that you say it like that, I can see how this would make me seem unstable.”
Ya think?
Abigail gave a heavy breath. Her shoulders sagged. She should know her mother would do something like this. She always did. She loved to meddle in everything that was her life since she couldn’t do the same for Mike.
Mike was as free as the wind where Abigail was as caged as a bird in her parent’s eyes.
“Don’t you know what today is?”
Mrs. Sinclair gave a sullen pout, ignorant of the event happening today.
“It’s Mike’s club opening!”
“Today’s Mike’s opening?”
“Yes! Isn’t it great?”
Turns out her brother’s news was grand, and he wasn’t exaggerating when he said the space was big, either. Abigail had seen the pictures. She’d seen the cages hanging from the ceiling and the mirrored walls. The club was extravagant in all sense of the word. She couldn’t be prouder of her big brother.
“Oh.”
“You didn’t know?”
“Well, I knew he had been trying to get a liquor license, but I didn’t know it had happened so soon.”
“So soon? Mom, it took him almost two years.”
“I guess I should go home then. Have fun.” Her mother attempted to stand but with her eyes half swollen, she tripped.
“Sit, you can’t walk home on your own. Where is Carl?” Abigail pulled out her phone to call her mother’s driver but stopped. “Wait, you aren’t going?”
“He didn’t invite me. I wouldn’t want to ruin his big night.”
She worried her lip, hating to see her mother’s feelings hurt. “He probably forgot. You know, he’s been very busy with everything.”
“Abigail, you don’t forget to tell your parents about a special event in your life, you intentionally don’t tell them.”
“Did something happen between you two?”
“It’s the new guy he’s dating. He wants to marry him. They’ve only known each other for three months! It’s too soon.”
“What?”
When they went to Alfonso’s for Sunday brunch, all Mike talked about was the club and how excited he was to see his dream come to life. Not once did he mention getting engaged to Niall.
Her heart shrunk. She thought they were closer than that. Then again, she was hiding things from him, too so could she really feel hurt, betrayed? When Mike asked why she was glowing, she’d avoided the topic, saying she’d started a new workout and the conversation steered to them working out at least once a week together.
She hadn’t the face to tell her brother of her sinful weekend with a man she honestly wasn’t sure she’d see again. Abigail knew not a thing about Preston Trice. His number was always under unknown as if he were hiding his true identity from her.
“Oh, you didn’t know. Guess he’s keeping secrets from everyone now. He wasn’t like that three months ago, you know.”
“I knew he was thinking about marrying Niall,” she lied. No one would break the bond of siblings. She’d defend her brother ’till the end. “I didn’t know he’d told you, too. That’s what surprised me.”
“I know I shouldn’t be worried. He says everyone he dates is the one, but I think he’s serious about this one.”
“Shouldn’t you be happy then?”
“I should, shouldn’t I? But that’s the thing. He’s never said the word marriage before. I’m afraid Niall will break his heart. Really hurt him.”
She gave her mom a small smile, engulfing her with her arms. “You’re such a good mom, Momma. I’ll keep an eye on him at the club, okay? He listens to me, for the most part. If I don’t like Niall, I’ll tell him.”
“Thank you, Abby.”
“Why don’t you come with me tonight? Tell Dad to go, too.”
“I’ll have to ice my eyes all the way home. Seriously, Abigail, pepper spray?”
She jiggled the bottle in the air. “It was your idea to have one.”
“Yes. I remember telling you to use it on others, not me.”
Fifteen minutes later, two cars departed from 23rd Street. One led to The Blue Oyster, the other to the Sinclair-Bennett household where Mrs. Sinclair would ice her eyes and shower.
Abigail hoped her parents would make it tonight. It would mean the world to Mike to have them there, even if he hadn’t invited them.
Melissa and Michael Sr. weren’t the religious type. They never went to church. They never prayed or read the Bible, although they were both taught its teachings from their parents.
They carried God in their hearts. They never had the urge to flaunt their faith in front of others. They both believed in God and so they believed He was only to judge while humans were only to love. So, when Michael Jr., their only son, told them he was gay, they accepted him with open arms because they were made to love and not judge.
Those were the values Abigail and Mike grew up with. Unfortunately, most parents didn’t teach those beliefs to their children. They picked and chose what they wanted them to learn about God. If someone didn’t look like them, they were to disassociate themselves from them. If someone loved the same sex, they were a walking sin. Their religion trumped all others, those who didn’t follow them would perish in hell.
Did they miss the part in the Bible that said they were all children of God? Did they miss the part in the Bible where it said they were made in His image? Did they forget to bookmark the part where Jesus hung out with thieves, prostitutes, sinners, outcasts, those who were shunned by society and left alone?
And so, because of parents who neglected to show the truth to their children, Abigail’s brother got bullied and shunned in school by not only students but parents and school staff.
Opening a gay club in the city was Michael Bennett’s way of returning the stones he never should’ve gotten to the people who never should’ve thrown them.
“Congrats, hotshot!” Abigail shouted over the loud music.
Mike turned around with a beaming smile on his lips. He grabbed his sister by the hand and took her up the stairs to the second floor where they both took a moment to admire what he’d created.
“Can you believe it?”
The pictures he’d shown her on Sunday hadn’t done the club justice. The bottom floor was where all the partying was happening. It hosted a bar, DJ, and a dance floor with flashing lights that resonated throughout the club.
From the ceiling hung the cages Abigail had loved since she’d first seen them in photographs. One had a man wearing a speedo dancing with a cowboy’s hat. The other had two men performing sensual dances.
The second floor also had a bar and dance floor but was smaller than the first. This one had sofas and tables that could be reserved and rented for a private party or bachelor/bachelorette night.
“I can, Mike. It’s packed.” Abigail sounded like a proud mother.
He jumped up and down with excitement. “I know!”
“I’m so happy for you.” She smiled. She thought about asking him about the Niall situation but figured they could talk about it on one of their walking sessions around Central Park next week. She didn’t want to ruin his night or cause any discomfort.
“Dad called about five minutes before you got here.”
“What did he say?” she asked innocently.
“They’re on their way.”
“How do you feel about that?”
He raised a shoulder. “I know it was you, Abbs.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I’m so sorry! Mom was following me, and I sprayed her with pepper. Then she asked where I was going, and I told her I was going to your event. Mike, she had no idea what I was talking about. I felt bad.”
“Relax. I’m not mad or anything. I didn’t invite them because of Niall. Today is supposed to be my night. Abbs, I worked so hard for this and I don’t want Mom to ruin it or feel hurt because if it comes down to it, I’ll pick him over her.”
“You really love him, huh?” she asked
“I really do.”
She let out a sigh, followed by a promise. “Mom won’t ruin anything tonight.” Abigail gave Mike a wink and tilted her head to the woman behind him with a headset and clipboard.
Michael spoke to her for a few minutes whilst Abigail admired the empire her brother had built all on his own. Having had graduated with an MBA, she knew he had it in him to make something as great as this.
The customers were genuinely having a good time. If this was the crowd he’d get on a Thursday night, she could only imagine how busy it’d be tomorrow or on the weekend.
Her eyes settled on an attractive man behind the main floor’s bar. He was nothing like Master Trice, though. His left arm was colored in dark ink. He wasn’t very muscular, and he wasn’t very tall, a few inches taller than her 5′4 height. What he had that Master Trice was yet to show her was a panty-dropper smile that was sure to make any man in this club fall to his knee.
“Is it okay if I leave you alone for a sec? I have to take care of something.”
She waved him away. “Yeah. Yeah. Of course, I’ll go get a drink. I’ve got my eye on that blondie over there.”
Mike leaned on the railing, searching for the blonde in the crowd. He chuckled when he found him. “Go for it. Send him my way when you’re done. Don’t forget to plump those tits, girl!”
Master Trice wasn’t here and even if he were, he’d told her she was allowed to date other people. It was also Thursday night, not Friday evening, so she wasn’t breaking any rules. With determination, Abigail went down the stairs, her eyes on the prize. She was ready to have fun and gain some intel.
She settled on an empty stool and did just as her brother had suggested, she leaned against the counter with her elbows and thrust her tits forward. It took everything inside of her, not to coward and apologize for her bluntness but she was cringing on the inside.
“Can I get a cosmopolitan?” she asked in her sultriest voice.
The blonde looked down her breasts and up to the second floor where she’d stood earlier. Had he been watching her, too?
He smirked and nodded, giving her his back as he mixed her a drink. Her mouth watered as the man poured the blue liquid into a chilled glass and handed it to her. Her fingers purposely touched his as she grabbed the thin handle.
“Thank you.”
Her head felt woozy after the third drink. She giggled at anything the bartender said or was he just that funny? Abigail was starting to like this guy more than when she’d first met him, and she felt the need to tell him just how much, something she’d never done before.
“I like you.”
The man seemed surprised by her admittance but was happy. He set the towel resting on his shoulder down and asked her, “Wanna dance?”
She looked at the full bar with parched customers. “Wouldn’t you get in trouble?”
“Nah, I’m dating the boss.”
She raised a suggestive eyebrow. “I’m the boss’s sister.”
“Looks like we’ve got something in common.”
They laughed, their charade coming to an end. She accepted Niall’s hand as he guided her through the crowds of men grinding on each other.
In the middle of the dance floor, she was the only girl, and even if none of the men were sexually attracted to her, it felt just as in her fantasy. Abigail closed her eyes and enjoyed the moment.
She twirled and moved her hips to the loud tempo. She grinded on other men as they playfully did the same to her. None touched her inappropriately. No one drew her body closer. No one thrust their hard-on in her ass. No one kissed her neck and growled in her ear like a wild beast.
None but for one.
“What is it you think you’re doing, whore?”
