Blame it on the Tequila by Fiona Cole (reader novel txt) 📗

stairs. The sun shining through the mostly-shut blinds let me know I wasn’t in a basement, so that meant I had to be on the second floor. As the steps got closer, my mind swirled with options. I could pretend I was asleep, but that would leave me lying vulnerable. But I was already vulnerable cuffed to the bed. And who knew if he’d even care if I was conscious or not.

I looked side to side and made a quick decision to roll off the side of the bed, wedging myself in the space against the wall. It was a false sense of protection, but I’d take what I could get.

The door creaked open, and I held my breath.

Footsteps faltered as if frozen before a soft chuckle squeezed my lungs even tighter than I thought possible.

“There’s no need to hide,” his deep voice said, almost amused. “But I’m glad you’re awake. I hated drugging you.” He rounded the corner, giving me the first real look at his face. Like the room, he was normal—almost handsome. If this was a movie, I’d expect him to be the good guy coming to rescue me with his warm brown eyes and tousled brown hair. He looked attractive in a non-discrepant way. Muscular, but not bulky. Dressed nice, but casual, in jeans and a plain black T-shirt. Not at all the balding man with a beer belly and stained tank top.

Just like the normality of the room, it only served to add to my panic.

He leaned against the wall, arms flexing as they crossed over his broad chest, taking me in crouched in the corner.

“You’re just as beautiful as I imagined. I’ve watched you online, I don’t know how many times, and come to all your shows, but I never allowed myself to get too close. I wasn’t sure I trusted myself until I had a plan in place.”

He stepped sideways to edge between the bed and wall, coming into my space, but thankfully, stopped to sit on the bed. I lifted my chin and forced the most stubborn don’t-fuck-with-me look I could muster. His legs almost reached where mine balled up to my chest, and I considered lashing out and kicking him with all I had but decided to save my energy and wait him out. If he wanted to keep space for now, then I would take it.

“The first time I saw you, you were singing in the YouTube video. Then to find out you were in New York, I just knew. I had to have you.”

Don’t poke the bear. Don’t provoke him. Bide your time.

I repeated it over and over, clamping my jaw tight against the acidic retorts I wanted to give about people not being owned. The more I watched him, the more his simple look appeared as a veneer, and I was in no rush to find out what it covered.

“Nova, Nova. You were impossible to miss, and I didn’t want to take you randomly. I wanted to prepare you. You got my notes, right?”

I refused to give even the slightest head nod.

“I never thought those boys would leave your side,” he sneered.

His words sent a sharp reminder through my already fragile heart, planting the first seed of blame.

If they hadn’t left me, I wouldn’t be here.

If they hadn’t pushed me to join the band, I wouldn’t be here.

If they hadn’t joked about my fan mail, then I wouldn’t be here.

If Parker had kept his promise to keep me safe, I wouldn’t be here.

If I had been more important than talking to a producer, then I wouldn’t be here.

Not having enough room for the weight of those doubts and resentment, I shoved them aside.

“But then, there you were, walking all by yourself, like you were looking for me. Were you looking for me?

Realizing I wouldn’t answer, he shook his head and laughed. He took his time to look me over, not missing an inch. He looked at me like I was sprawled out for his perusal rather than huddled into a ball. His eyes finished raking me over and flashed back to meet my hard gaze. The first crack in my strong act fissured under the glimpse of the real monster beneath the mask.

His lip curled up slowly, and he shifted, reaching toward me. With my fight or flight in full effect and flight not an option, I snapped my teeth, forcing him to back up.

He jerked back, just barely escaping my bite. He looked to his hand and back to me. I braced myself for the force of his wrath—my muscles coiling, ready to fight. Instead, he laughed.

“So, feisty,” he hissed, his eyes sparking with something I didn’t want to dwell on. “I knew you would be with all that red hair. Don’t worry. We’ll become real close soon enough.”

His eyes drooped with a look I knew all too well. I saw it from Parker all the time—desire, heat, want, need. Except with this man, bile churned up my throat, and I almost hoped I had a chance to spew it all over him.

The thought of Parker only added to the nausea.

My heart cracked deep and wide. Why hadn’t he waited for me? Why had he left?

The man sighed and slapped his thighs, making me jump. “Later,” he promised. “Right now, I need to get my pet some food. I had everything else planned, but in my excitement, I forgot to get nutrients to help us keep our energy up for all the work we’ll be doing later.”

The way he said work hammered another blow against my strength, and all I wanted to do was crumble and beg to be set free—beg for this not to be real. With all my effort to not fall apart, I forgot to stay silent.

“I’d rather die,” I gritted out.

He frowned. “Don’t say that, pet. I promise I’ll make you like it.”

“Fuck. You.”

“When I get back. I promise.” He winked like he was being funny, and I imagined clawing my nails down