They couldn’t see, but they could hear the remnants of her cries. Even though it was just another night for them and no one bothered to look our way, I made sure my body blocked Braxton and what we were up to as I looked on.

My dick was as hard as a brick, while my gaze couldn’t decide where to settle. I watched Braxton’s tits bounce under the low cut of her dress since she’d once again gone without a bra. I watched the muscles in Loren’s naked ass flex as he pumped inside her. I even watched and listened as Houston whispered dirty threats in her ear. I knew he’d make good on every one of them once Loren was through.

“Today, Lo.”

With three more hard pumps and a grunt as he came, Loren obliged Houston without argument. He stayed inside her a few seconds longer, kissing her lips and whispering how much he loved her in between before pulling away.

Braxton didn’t react as he knew she wouldn’t.

I could see the frustration in Loren’s eyes as he fixed his clothes, but he said nothing.

Houston had already turned Braxton around and stolen her attention. He shed her leather jacket, letting it fall to the ground. The thin straps of her dress were next. Houston slipped them off her shoulders and let her dress fall, too, baring her completely as if we weren’t in the middle of a fucking club.

“Houston,” I scolded, unable to hide my apprehension.

Had we gone too far?

Ignoring me, Houston gripped Braxton’s breasts in both of his palms, and together, they moved deeper into the shadows until they were completely shrouded as they kissed.

Not even I could see what they were doing.

I knew the moment he began fucking her, though.

As Loren casually leaned against the wall, I drank in every one of Braxton’s incoherent cries and Houston’s harsh grunts as he fucked her like it was their last time. He rode her hard, and she took everything he gave.

It seemed to go on forever, and at the same time, not long enough.

“Oh, Houston,” she told him.

“Fuck, Braxton,” he told her.

Their choked gasps were the last thing Loren and I heard before it stopped. It was a couple more minutes before Houston led Braxton back out of the shadows with a hand on her waist as he kept her upright and steady. Her hair had fallen from her ponytail, and she was already bearing the marks from their attention. I don’t know how she expected to hide what she’d done from her friends, but our mission was accomplished.

I could see our victory building in her eyes.

The capitulation.

Her inevitable surrender.

And my permanent undoing.

Almost there.

Loren turned to me and lifted a brow.

“You don’t want a turn?” he asked as he lazily chewed a stick of gum.

I saw Braxton shiver at his tone and his question. She only liked being treated like our possession when her clothes were off and her inhibitions were down. If he’d tried it any other time, he’d be on the ground holding his balls.

My throat bobbed as I swallowed the desire that made my mouth water. “Not this time,” I whispered as I reached out and brushed her naked nipple with my thumb. “I think we need to have that talk first, right?”

I took my gaze off her breasts for the beauty of her brown eyes.

Braxton nodded eagerly, and I could see her gratitude for my restraint. She wasn’t strong enough to turn me down right now, and I didn’t want her hating herself in the morning. Regret was not what I needed her to feel whenever she thought of me.

I thought about our kiss earlier, and she must have thought of it too.

Rising on her tiptoes, Braxton planted one on my cheek. “Thank you for understanding,” she whispered before settling on her heels again.

I simply nodded as I looked away so she wouldn’t see my hidden thoughts.

Enjoy it while it lasts.

Paris.

I was in Paris.

I inhaled a nervous breath and slowly exhaled the brine. When that didn’t work, I started to fidget, adjusting the wig I wore that was long, layered, black with blue ombre, and had side bangs covering my right eye.

Going with the flow, I’d lined my eyes heavily with black liner and clipped the faux silver piercings to my nose and lip. I completed the look picked out for me with fishnet stockings, black jeans with holes in the knees, and a cropped tee.

Seeing my reflection now in one of the seventeen large mirrors made from three hundred and fifty smaller mirrors, I knew without a doubt who’d left the disguise.

The handwritten note asking to meet here and at this time made it clear too. I’d woken up this morning to both waiting for me inside my hotel suite at the foot of my bed that I’d slept in alone.

And now I waited with butterflies in my stomach for him to arrive.

It’s been two weeks since Berlin.

Two guilt-ridden weeks since the club and the sex that I wouldn’t allow myself to think about, but somehow, I always managed to think only about it. Houston and Loren had shamelessly poured their frustration into me while Jericho watched. They made me not just see but feel how much they needed me. I needed them too, but it wasn’t the same.

This wasn’t hiding fear and apprehension behind cruelty like before.

They’d lied to me.

How do we come back from that? How do I learn to trust them again? I keep waiting for some sign that may never come. And if it didn’t, what did that mean?

I was afraid to know the answer.

I wasn’t ready to accept the truth if it meant being without them.

When my phone pinged, I looked at the screen and frowned at the Twitter notification.

@Em_Anon: You’re going to die bitch

I rolled my eyes.

Death threats weren’t new to me anymore. I just wished they were more creative. Maybe describe how you plan to kill me?

I don’t know.

Just make it worth the tweet.

Peering around the crowded room from my spot inside the arched alcove, I searched for a distraction that shouldn’t have been hard to find. Perhaps in the vaulted ceiling painted to depict the history of Louis XIV? Or the chandeliers spanning the two hundred and forty feet length of the hall? There was a lot to marvel at and appreciate inside the famed Hall of Mirrors, the most notable room in the Chateau de Versailles.

It was kind of annoying. I’d dreamt of seeing this place ever since watching the TV show that had sucked me in only to cancel after three seasons, and now that I was here, my nerves kept me from enjoying it.

It wasn’t a coincidence that he’d chosen this place.

I’d made him watch reruns of the show with me after seeing the rants online a couple of months ago regarding rumors of it ending. Any excuse to close the distance he’d put between us at the time.

And now I knew why.

I just needed to understand the rest.

The crowd parted, and as if he’d heard my silent plea, Jericho appeared.

Unlike me, he wasn’t wearing a disguise, but everyone was too enraptured by the gilded hall to look past the hood of the sweatshirt shielding the drummer’s face and hair from view and the dark shades covering silver eyes. Jericho’s mouth set in a grim line, and the ring piercing his bottom lip drew my attention. I didn’t have to see his eyes to know that they were haunted.

Longer than I’d known him, he’d never been anything else.

My heart wept for him, even as I kept my expression neutral.

“Hey,” he greeted low when he finally reached me. His teeth toyed with his lip ring. Something he only did when he was nervous or deep in thought. At the moment, I was sure it was both. Together, we stood inside the alcove as everyone passed us by. It was a daring move when he removed his shades. I could see his eyes now, and he could stare deeply into mine. “Can we talk now?”

While many emotions assailed me at once, there was only one answer in my mind and heart. It was the one I let fall from my lips. “Sure.”

I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard and then looked away to search for words in the garden just outside the window.

“Do you still love her?” I blurted when I couldn’t take the silence any longer. The answer to that burning question plagued me when I was awake and followed me into my sleep. I had to know. But I wondered if it would change anything.

Jericho’s gaze flew to me, and the blatant alarm I saw inside weirdly soothed my aching heart. Slowly, he shook his head, but it wasn’t from hesitation. It was disbelief that I would ever think so. “No, Braxton. I don’t.” He took a tentative step forward, and when his hands found my waist, I let him keep them there. “I love you.”

“Why? Why me and not her? What did your wife do wrong that I did right?”

His eyes narrowed just before his hold on me tightened. It was my only warning before he slammed my back against the wall and trapped me with nothing more than his anger.

Sweet, sad, gentle Jericho was gone.

I was looking at Rich.

The forceful, vengeful reckoning he kept hidden from the world.