The Favor (25 page)

“So tell me...” She raised the imaginary glasses and looked down at her books. “Kit is it?”

I laughed and she scowled at me.

“So tell me, is it man trouble on your mind or your grades?”

“Well you see, it's this pesky teenage girl. She's far too smart for her own good.”

“Ahh. Would she by any chance be the young lady watching the pot on the stove boiling over?”

“Shit!” I spun around and grabbed the pot from the heat in an attempt to save my dirty rice just as it was about to spill over, before I looked over my shoulder at her. “Smart-ass.”

“I like to think my brains are somewhat higher than my derriere, but I'll take the compliment.”

Snorting, I started paying more attention to what I was doing, changing the subject to school and her drill team practice. Forgetting all my heavy thoughts, I fell into my new and more comfortable routine of normalcy. I was thankful for the company and the laughter. Though I was pretty sure my thoughts would catch up with me eventually. They always did, and usually when I crawled into bed at night.

My phone wouldn't shut up. It wasn't a morning of free period for Libby, and I'd spent the night with my mind churning, as it had done since I'd received the phone call from my mom three days earlier.

This was the third time it had gone off, and my eyes finally cooperated and opened as I stretched out and grumbled while my hand patted around for my phone. Staring at the screen, I sat up suddenly and answered, trying to ignore the hammering of my heart as I did.

“Hello?”

“Miss Morgan, sorry to bother you, but Libby's mom put this number down for emergency contact at the school. We've tried her cell but there's no answer. Libby's not feeling very well and we need someone to come and sign her out.”

“Of course. I'll be right there.” I hung up and ran my hands through my hair as I took in my little room and stumbled from the bed.

I'd been listed as an emergency contact? Something about that information made me feel more like family than I already did. Maria trusted me with her daughter and had incorporated me into her life in more ways than the obvious. It may have been something slightly insignificant to anyone else, but to me, it meant the world.

Throwing on clothes and pulling up my hair, I left the house as quickly as I could. The responsibility to be dependable spurred me on until I pulled into a space outside the main entrance and ran to the front desk.

“I'm here to pick up Libby Franklin.”

“I just need your ID and I'll call the nurse’s office to let her know you're here.”

I handed over my license and watched as she looked at it before turning back to her computer screen. She dialed an extension and returned my license to my hand just as the doors opened behind me.

“Kit?” Maria said, obviously bewildered by my presence. She stopped as the door fell closed behind her.

“Hi.” I grinned as her smile grew.
“
They called me when they couldn't get you.”

“Ahh, that's my fault. I got the voicemail but didn't call back. I completely forgot we added you to the contact list. I'm sorry, hun.”

“Are you kidding? I was honored. Officially part of the family.”

“That's a given. You are family.” Libby grumbled, walking into Maria's arms and resting her head on her shoulder. “I don't feel good, Momma.”

“You want me to come home with you, baby?”

“No. It's okay. I'll curl up on the couch with Kit and watch TV.”

“That's my specialty,” I offered with a grin.

Maria smiled, running her hands through Libby's hair and feeling her forehead. “You don't have a fever.”

“It's not that kind of sick. It's...” She looked around hesitantly.

Rather than make her say it aloud, I stepped in and winked at Maria. “I have the same problem and I know just the thing you need.”

Her pitiful smile made me laugh and give Maria a nod. “Crisis averted.”

“Thank goodness. Mr. Charles' driver brought me. My damn battery is dead again.”

“You need any help?” I asked, knowing full well I couldn't go to Charles’ house. The question was genuine, however, and if she'd asked me to pick her up later, I would have done it, simply because she was my friend and her need outweighed my unease.

“I'll have the driver jump-start the car and then I’ll head over to the garage and get a new battery, but I appreciate it.”

We made our way out at Libby's next groan of pain, my arm slung around her shoulder as we headed to my car and gave Maria a goodbye wave.

In no time at all we were back at the house and curled up on the couch watching movies, rotating a towel from the warm dryer to Libby's stomach to ease the cramps. She barely made it through the first half of the movie before she finally fell asleep with her head in my lap and the warm towel clutched against her stomach.

I liked being useful and I liked Libby's company. Having her around made me relax more than I had in days, and with Baxter curled up at her feet we were a complete little set, waiting for Maria to arrive home from work. It was my turn for dinner again, but I was going to break the rules just this once and order Chinese.

As Libby slept, I stared blankly at the television screen, not really paying attention to what was going on, because in every love scene that played, I seemed to replace the heroine with myself, the male lead twisting into some version of Jared I had in my head. I'd stopped reading because of this very problem. Every book seemed to have a tenor of love, even when I turned to crime novels or great historical treasures. I couldn't seem to get Jared out of my head and I knew that allowing myself to hope would only lead to disappointment, but I couldn't seem to stop myself.

No matter the genre or theme, my mind was always coming up with ‘what ifs’. The more time that passed, the more I gained clarity about what had happened the night I’d run from them both. I'd put words in his mouth. I hadn't let him say a thing, yet I knew he couldn't possibly want me. I was a passing novelty. He could become a world renowned Dom who would have the world at his feet now that he'd accepted his nature and need to give pain. I couldn't offer him anything other than myself and the way I was feeling now, and it wasn’t enough for him. Perhaps my imagination of him embracing his new status in life was better than the gentle let down I expected.

It didn't really matter. He wasn't coming for me and neither was Mistress Kayla. It had been weeks, and I just had to accept that reality and start living my life before I further depleted my savings.

The final credits on the movie were rolling when Baxter lifted his head to the sound of a car slowing in front of the house, his attention slowly drawing me from my thoughts and back to reality. The modest home was on a quiet street, so the sound immediately made me think it was Maria. The only explanation to be had for her early arrival was worry for her daughter.

Slipping out from under Libby, I made my way to the kitchen to turn on some coffee, figuring I'd be helpful. It wasn't until Baxter walked to the door and started sniffing and huffing at the small gap that I realized I'd been wrong. It wasn't Maria at all. That wasn't the way Baxter reacted to her arrival.

The tap on the door was quiet and polite, and the first thing I found myself doing was casting a glance back to check on Libby, who hadn't so much as moved since I'd slipped from the couch. She hadn't heard the noise at all, which I was grateful for. Without thinking, I headed to the door and unlocked it, leaving the chain on as I pulled it open a crack.

“How can I help you?” I asked, barely seeing a hand through the small space.

It took a while for them to respond, and from what little I could see, whoever it was seemed to be nervous. As much as I appreciated their emotions, their lack of response was making me more anxious.

“Hello? How can I help you?”

“You can talk to me, Kit.”

My heart lodged itself in my throat. The deep tenor of the voice was like liquid sex to my starved libido. The voice I'd been longing to hear for almost two weeks was suddenly washing over me, calling my name while my body longed to respond.

I shut the door, my forehead landing on it with a thump as the tears welled up in my eyes. He was here. Jared was here and he wanted to talk. I'd dreamt about this in so many different ways. I'd woken up twisted in sheets as he'd walked away from me every night in my dreams. I hadn't believed he would come looking for me, not once, not even after the call from my mom. Yet, here he was, and I'd just shut the door on him.

What the hell was I doing?

My hands trembled against the chain as I gave myself a pep talk on how to handle the situation, but no matter how many scenarios ran through my head, nothing prepared me for the reality of seeing him standing there. Nor could I have ever imagined my reaction to it as I pulled the door out of my way. Between one breath and the next, I'd launched myself into his arms, tears falling freely down my cheeks as I repeated his name over and over again.

Folded in the cocoon of his arms and breathing him in, I still wasn't entirely sure I was actually awake. It seemed almost too good to be true that Jared was here, after I’d spent all that time longing for him.

He mumbled into my hair as I clung to him, shivering, yet absorbing his body heat as my tears dampened his shirt. In that moment, I couldn't have cared less if he was there to return a book. All that mattered was his corporeal form. His mumbles soon became soothing sounds that eased my sobs as my heart pounded in my chest. The weeks of wondering whether I had every detail of him memorized were forgotten. I took a mental snapshot of the weight of his arms around me, the strokes of his fingers in my hair and the gentle fall of his breath on the crown of my head. He was really here and I was going to make the most of every second that he was.

“God, I missed you, Kit.”

“I missed you, too,” I whispered quietly. “What took you so long?”

His deep laugh rumbled through him, the vibrations of it rolling through my body from the cheek that was against his shoulder. I hadn't meant to ask that at all but it was out there, and the lack of rejection gave me a tangible slip of hope to grasp on to.

“You didn't make it easy, hiding away like this.”

I shrugged and burrowed closer to him, not wanting to answer questions that I really had no conclusive explanation for. I didn't know why I'd run to a place I knew they wouldn't find me. I'd needed time to think and that's all I’d known. I stayed because Maria, Libby and I had become a small family, one where I'd finally felt normal and at home. What more was there to say? I’d needed time and they’d given me that.

“I wasn't really hiding.”

“No?” he asked, rubbing my back as another shudder ran through me. “Then why couldn't I find you, when it was the only thing in the world I wanted to do?”

I hoped his question was rhetorical, because once more, I didn't have an answer for him.

“It doesn't matter. I'm here with you now and I'm never letting you go again,” he uttered quietly.

It was this declaration that sent a whole new level of uncertainty running through me. I didn’t doubt what he was saying, but by some miracle, I was getting the distinct impression that I'd managed to get everything wrong the night I’d found out about Mistress Kayla’s betrayal. What was bothering me in this moment was the not knowing where I stood with Mistress Kayla. She and I were bound, Mistress and sub, and as much as I wanted Jared, ultimately, the decision was hers. I had no choice but to stand by her choice, because going against it would make me a person I didn't want to be.

“What? What was that? You just froze on me.”

“I... Jared, I belong to Mistress Kayla.”

“But you're in love with me.”

It wasn't a question. He already knew the answer because I'd confessed to him by coercion the night I left assuming he hadn't wanted me. My tenacity had mistakenly answered every question I'd had for him and I'd been wrong. Looking back on that night at the club I could understand my mistake, and I should have handled it better. Now, as happy as I was that he was here, the truth of how he felt about me brought a whole new set of questions to light.

“Kit, please don't lock me out again. I'm not going anywhere and I will follow you around the bloody world if I have to.”

“I've made a mess of everything, Jared. Everything.”

“You want to be with Kayla?”

“No…” The answer was more immediate than I’d intended, but it was the most natural response I had, and it made me realize the truth behind the words. I really didn’t have the inclination to be with Mistress Kayla in that capacity anymore. I was in love with Jared, and even if I chose to do the honorable thing, the trust between us was gone, having been broken by her betrayal.

“Then what's the problem?”

“I still belong to her. I may have walked away, but in this world, that means nothing. You start out with an agreement between the two people and my word means something. To contradict that... It goes against everything I stand for. She has to be the one to release me from her ownership.”

His body sagged against mine. It wasn't absolute defeat, but it was enough to let me see he understood the gravity of the situation. He knew I couldn't live with going against my beliefs. My word was my bond and I had given it to someone else.

“Do you still trust me?”

Leaning back and looking up into cool blue eyes, I nodded. He'd done nothing wrong; hell, I hadn't even been sure if he’d wanted to scene with Sophie. How many times had I been in a scene I hadn’t wanted to do, but felt obligated to do it? It had been another assumption on my part and I'd reacted before anyone else could. If I'd been honest with myself, it had started when I realized that Sophie chose not to scene with other women.

The problem was, I no longer trusted Mistress Kayla. That infrangible and blind faith I'd had in her up to that point had suddenly broken, and I knew in my soul that it could never be bridged. She'd set me up for failure because she didn't believe in our partnership. Maybe she hadn't from the beginning. I’d suddenly found myself questioning almost two years of my life, and it wasn't a good feeling.