The Auction (Club Indulgence Duet, #1)(70)

I keep my mouth shut, too scared about what might come out.

"Tell me the truth, and I'll stay," he adds.

I can't blink my tears away. They drip down my cheek. I cave and admit, "I want you to love me."

He sighs as if relieved, which surprises me again. Then his face turns darker. He studies me for a moment, and a sinister grin forms on his lips. "Sorry to disappoint you, pet. I don't love," he claims.

I turn my face away, trying to control my emotions. He mutters, "You're better off." He spins and walks toward the front door.

"Riggs, you're drunk," I repeat and grab the keys out of his hand.

It takes him by surprise. He turns on me. "Don't fuck with me, Blakely."

"You're not leaving," I declare.

New rage flares on his cheeks. The fear hits me again, but I'm not giving them to him. He's too drunk.

He orders, "Give me the keys, pet."

"No," I say, my voice and body shaking.

He yells, "Give me the keys!"

"No!" I run to the bedroom and slam the door, locking it.

He bangs on the door.

I go into the bathroom, open the exit to the side balcony, and step outside. I put the keys underneath one of the vases, then return inside.

Riggs is still pounding on the door. He shouts, "Pet, open this door now."

I unlock the door, then slide into bed.

"What are you doing? Where are my keys?" he slurs.

"I threw them on the beach. You're not going to find them. Sober up and stop being a hypocrite," I add, then turn my face on the pillow.

He stands over me for a long time. I close my eyes, unsure what he's going to do next. He finally stomps out of the room and slams the door.

I stay in the room, and when I finally get up the next morning, he's nowhere.

Oh God! He must have had another set of keys.

How could I have been so stupid?

I text him.

Me: Riggs, please tell me you're okay.





I don't receive a response and try calling. It goes to his voicemail.

All day, I keep trying to contact him. I call him. I text him. But it doesn't matter. He never answers. I don't even sit at the piano. The last thing I can think about is my work.

It's late at night when he finally comes back into the house. "Where have you been?" I ask.

He has on a fresh suit and looks like he does every night when he comes home from work. He clenches his jaw and looks down at me, threatening, "Don't you ever take my keys away from me again."

"You were drunk," I state.

"Like I said, don't ever do it again," he warns, then walks into the bedroom.

I follow him. "Where did you go?"

"None of your business."

"Yes, it is," I claim, sick of this bullshit with him. I put my hand on my hip and add, "I may have signed a contract, but this is ridiculous. I'm not going to be somebody that you can just walk all over whenever you decide to have a mood swing."

He steps out of his pants and tosses them into the laundry basket. Then takes his jacket and shirt off until he's wearing only his boxers.

"Riggs, we can't keep doing this," I state.

He turns, pinning his eyes on me. "Did you write anything?"

My heart pounds harder. "No."

"I've been gone for three weeks, and you've not written anything?" he accuses.

"It's not that easy."

"Well, you said I was the pressure. I removed it. Why don't you have a notebook of songs?"

"Riggs, I said I was sorry and didn't mean it."

"Sure you did," he claims and slides past me.

I follow him and tug on his arm. "Riggs!"

He spins into me. "What, Blakely? Am I pressure whether I'm here or not? Am I your excuse if you fail?"

I stare at him for a minute. It hits me how broken he is, even though I'm the one he always tries to break. It saddens me. Riggs is more broken than any man I've ever met.

I soften my tone, admitting, "The only person whose fault it will be if I fail is mine. I'm sorry I acted how I did. It's amazing what you've done for me."

His face hardens further.

"I mean it. Stay. I need you. You can't keep staying away from me like this."

He steps closer, dragging his fingertip down my cheek. "What do you need me for, Blakely?"

I lift my chin and square my shoulders. "I need from you whatever it is you need from me," I declare, my voice shaking.

"That's a paradox," he states.

"One you know makes sense," I claim.

Silence fills the air, and tension burns through the room like a hurricane.

I cave, restating, "I need you. All of you. I'm not doing well without you."

The darkness deepens to the point I can see the shift. He takes my hand, leads me to the piano, then picks me up. He sits me on the crystal top, ordering. "Kneel."

"On this?" I ask.

He traces the skin above my collar, commanding, "Assume your position, pet."

It only takes me a few seconds of debate. If this brings Riggs back, I'll do what it takes. I obey, kneeling, my spine straight, my ass on my calves, my head bowed.