Author's Notes: Tensions are high as the Selected meet Prince Maxon while hope hangs in the air for one guard and a maid rethinks her lot.

All credit goes to the author.

Minor Warning: For mild adult language and sexual content. If this sort of material offends you, please go read something else. You have been WARNED! All other readers please continue on and...

Enjoy!

~Sweetwaterspice

A Gilded Cage Just For Me"

chapter 11

~Anne

After the cleaning, dusting and tidying of Lady America's room was completed, the three of us returned to our quarters. To say we weren't nervous about our lady's first meeting with Prince Maxon would be a blatant lie. We knew Lady America was beautiful but not having had much interaction with her since her arrival made the three of us extremely uneasy. She struck me as quite unsure of being here at the palace which I guessed was normal but what seemed odd is that she appeared somewhat disconnected for a girl, a Five, with such a once in a lifetime opportunity laid at her feet. The spark of excitement and joy I would've hoped to see didn't sparkle in her eyes. She looked almost sad. I wondered if she wanted to be here at all? Maybe her discontent would come through to the prince and she would be sent home. I was worried. Very worried.

"Will you quit pacing, Mary?! You're making Lucy nervous." Lucy shot me a half grin since I was obviously deflecting my own jittery nervousness on her. It was no use. I felt like breakfast was churning in my belly and threatening to make an unpleasant appearance. Attempting to ease my own worry, I turned back to the sketch book in my hand trying to concentrate on a new design. The effort to busy my mind from what was happening in the Great Room however, proved fruitless. With every second that ticked, I wondered if Lady America was speaking with the Prince at this very moment. I wondered what she would say, what his Highness would ask and I hoped and prayed she had clever answers. And then there was the matter of the soiled gown. What had she been doing out of doors last night? I felt a cold streak rush down my spine.

Mary's pacing only added to my stress level so much so, that I irritably scolded whisper-like, "Mary! Please! Sit down!"

"I can't help it!" she groaned, as she paced back and forth between the lengths of our beds. "Do you realize at this very moment," she said in a quieter tone so the others about wouldn't hear, "Prince Maxon is meeting with the Selected? What if he doesn't like her? What if she isn't pretty enough or elegant enough or refined enough since she's a Five."

"Good lord, Mary! You're giving me a headache." I rubbed my temples, having placed my sketchbook next to me on the bed.

"I don't think we're the only ones on edge," Lucy commented. She was right.

Our quarters, one of five habitations, housed twenty-one maids. The tension in the room was palatable. There was a distinct uneasy air. Hushed chatter in the form of private conversations between one maid to another or from clusters that had gathered to share an opinion floated around us. There was constant movement too as if standing or sitting still was now a capitol offense. Maids were coming and going, some busied themselves with mending or working on some small project. Others had left to the work room or had returned to their lady's room awaiting their return after the meet and greet. As I looked around at the anxious faces I wondered what would happen to us as Prince Maxon began to send lady's home? I wasn't ready for reassignment.

We decided to leave our quarters in hopes of finding a little more peace in the common room. I grabbed my sketchbook, Mary brought along the beading work she labored on on a gown and Lucy her knitting. As long as our hands were busy it might help distract us.

It appeared the move to the common room was a good idea. There was only one other body casually lounging on one of the couches, feet tucked under the skirts of a maid's uniform with a sketchbook, similar to mine in hand. It was Marguerite.

We greeted her but she merely grumbled a greeting in return, her eyes fixed on the sketchbook. Marguerite was a sweet girl in her own way but just as she was sweet, she was equally as mischievous. If I had to describe her, she was the perfect balance between Skyler and Ashton. No wonder she had fit so well in that group. But now since that trio had been split up by Mrs. LaFontaine, bad blood ran between her and Skyler leaving Ashton in the middle. I didn't envy Ashton for it.

Mary, attempting to break the ice and certainly curious but much bolder than either Lucy and me combined, asked, "So how did it go with your lady? Aren't you assigned to Lady Celeste?"

"Unfortunately," Marguerite grumbled again, not lifting her eyes from her sketchbook. The pencil in her hand moved over the paper in what appeared to be shading motions. Without much encouragement she blurted, "She's an absolute bitch!" A direct statement which rang like a bong. The pencil stopped as her eyes met ours.

"Can you believe she had the gall to complain about the linens on her bed? On her first night?!" she exclaimed rising to her feet. "'These are too scratchy. I only sleep on satin or silk. Fetch me some new sheets.'" She mimicked in a tone and gesture I could only imagine coming from a Two. I cringed but at the same time thankful it wasn't us having to deal with her Lady Celeste. "But of course my Lady," continued Marguerite, in a sweetly mocking tone, "Let us fetch those for you straightaway and forgive our insolence for not pampering your spoiled little ass! Ugh!"

"What did you do?" Lucy asked aghast.

"What needed to be done so we could survive our first night! Fortunately for us, we got our hands on a set for Miss High and Mighty. Talk about high maintenance."

"Well…maybe it'll get better?" Lucy offered.

"She's a Two! Not likely," she scoffed.

"Who knows? Maybe one night is all she'll have," Mary smirked.

Marguerite quirked in return, "Oh, forgive me," and placing a hand on her chest, "Did I mention she's a Two? And beautiful." She shook her head. "I don't think the Prince would be stupid enough or blind enough to send her home. It's all about the presentation, you know? And Lady Celeste is all presentation."

No words rang truer. We all knew she was right and those very words made the knot in my stomach tighten. With competition like Lady Celeste how much of a shot did Lady America really have?

I took in a breath, my palm flat against my stomach. "We have to trust the process and Prince Maxon, right?"

Marguerite made an incredulous sound. "I love your optimism, Anne. Forgive me if I don't share it. For all we know, we could be looking at the next Princess."

I sighed. "Well...I have to believe it works. We were blessed with Queen Amberly. And she was a Four."

"We better hope so for all our sakes," said Marguerite as Mary caught sight of the drawing she must've been sketching when we walked in.

"What are you working on?" Mary asked, taking a closer look. "That's beautiful."

A slight smile etched over Marguerite's lips. "Really? Do you think so?"

"Absolutely."

We all gathered to take a look as she showed her work detailed in colored pencil, the drawing labeled with handwritten arrows pointing to each part of the design.

"It's my latest idea. I'm hoping the jewelers will be able to construct it. That's if I can get them to look at it."

It was a beautiful design. A necklace formed of a round-cut sapphire stone set on white gold filigree according to her specs.

"For your lady?" I asked.

"Hell no!" she cried. "I would die before I put any of my designs on that spoiled brat. Besides, she'd probably scoff at it anyway if she knew the real designer."

"Too bad. It could be an opportunity for you. You're very talented," I added.

"Well, I don't wish to be a maid forever." There was a slight pensive look on her brow as if she'd thought about her lot a million times over. And in a moment where there had always existed walls so thick surrounding her, she lowered them just enough for us to glimpse what hopes she held fast. "I would love an apprenticeship with the jewelers. To be able to create beautiful things and see my work on display. Maybe even to be so honored for Queen Amberly to find my designs beautiful enough to wear. That would be my dream." She blinked away what seemed like tears. I felt like she had just touched us with a part of herself she kept private. I lifted my hand- maybe a tender touch to reassure her that dreams were possible even for us but that same hand instantly dropped back down upon hearing Mary's voice.

"You would need to be a Five to do that, you know?" Mary pointed out the obvious making Marguerite's eyes narrow. The walls shot up in the blink of an eye. The dream that had clearly shone in Marguerite's eyes a moment ago snapped shut like a door being slammed in one's face. I felt my heart sink.

"Thanks, Mary," she glared then rolled her eyes.

"I'm not saying…"

"Just shut up!" Marguerite slammed her sketchbook closed and turned to leave. She didn't look back and was soon gone.

"Was that necessary?" I scowled. No one should have their hopes dashed like that.

"I didn't mean it like it sounded," Mary lamented with a sigh.

I shook my head and went to find a seat. "I'm sorry!" Mary cried.

As we settled around the table I couldn't help to think of Marguerite. We all had dreams and aspirations. We all wanted to be more than what our castes restricted us to be. It was frustrating. We were, all of us, Marguerite in a sense- Intelligent, smart with our hands, smart with figures and planning. We could own our own shops, conduct our own affairs. Be independent. But there was also reality; that dark reality that crushed our dreams. And it kissed us goodnight as we turned out the lights and bid us a good morning each day we rose. This was our lot. Unless you had the means to buy-up or marry a guard, there weren't many career choices for the maids of the palace. The castes were unfair, we knew, but even so, I had to keep believing.

"There you are, Anne!" A male voice cried as the door to the common room burst open. It was Justin, one of the young butlers. His cheeks were a bit flushed as if he had been hurrying to get someplace.

"Where's the fire?" Mary asked wryly.

"No fire. Yet, anyway. But maybe one's starting!" His smile was wide as he sat in the chair next to me. He seemed antsy, like his skin was the only thing holding him together. "I got some news for you." He leaned in as if he were revealing some great secret even though we were the only ones in the room. He sat there grinning and yet not saying a word.

"What?!" My eyes widened like saucers, feeling a mixture of irritation and anxiety at his body language.

"Tell us, Justin!" Lucy perked up.

His grin widened into a big smile, giving us a view of his nice teeth. "Seems like your lady's made an impression…quite the impression on the prince."

"WHAT?!" We all cried in unison.

Mary was the first to speak immediately afterwards. "What...WHAT are you saying, Justin?" He only continued to smile, baiting us. It worked. "Justin, I'm going to rip your head off if you don't say something!"

"Okay!" he paused, as our eyes anchored onto every word about to spill from his mouth.

"The prince and your lady made a bet."

"A bet?" Mary cast a frown. "Justin, you're not making any sense."

"Look, I was there alright. Heard it all. Prince Maxon called on your lady," he stated, pointing at us, "in front of all the others asking her how she was enjoying the food. She said the food was excellent but the strawberry tarts would make her sister cry. The prince asked if her sister would really cry…over the tarts, you know, and your lady confidently answered that her sister would…"

Mary, Lucy and I were on the edges of our seats, listening to every syllable. I felt I was going to leap out of my chair!

"So, the prince asked if she would like to wager money on it," he chuckled.

"What did she say?!" Lucy asked excitedly.

"I'm getting there. Hold your horses," he quipped. "Well, since your lady didn't have money to wager, the prince asked her to barter. I almost lost my shit, excuse the language," his eyes flickered to our faces but he continued on, "when your lady asked the prince what he wanted!" His voice rose to a pitch.

I gasped. "Was she so forward?" I think blood drained from my face.

"Balls she's got, that's for sure! But wait. It gets better!" Justin shifted in his seat. "Prince Maxon countered asking your lady, what did she want?"

"AND?" Mary impatiently asked.

"Will you let me finish, woman?" He frowned at Mary. "So…as I was saying, your lady says, "'If she cries,"' that is, her sister, '"I want to wear pants for a week.'"

"Oh my Lord!" My hand flew to my chest. "What did the prince think of that?" I asked, then bit down hard on my bottom lip.

"He seemed quite amused by the whole thing! He said that if the lady's sister didn't cry, your lady would owe him a walk around the gardens tomorrow afternoon."

It was as if diamonds had exploded from a cloud and started falling from heaven and rained on us! Mary, Lucy and I screamed, hugging each other and squishing Justin in between all of us.

"Justin, I want to kiss you!" I laughed.

"Well, I'm not stopping you."

I clamped my hands on his cheeks and laid a solid one on his lips. In my excitement I forgot how improper that was but I didn't care. Justin wore the biggest grin.

"Well…" he chuckled, his face a bit red, "Prince Maxon dispatched me to go have a parcel of strawberry tarts made to send to the lady's family and someone's got to wait to see if the sister indeed cries. So, I best get to it. I thought you may want to know though."

"Justin, you are the best!" Mary kissed him. Lucy only hugged him briefly in her shy manner.

"Ladies, if you'll pardon me. I've got some strawberry tarts to fetch."

Once Justin was gone, we couldn't help our euphoria and we all screamed and hugged again.

It was the best news of the day!

~ Hector

My shift over, I trudged my sorry ass down to the servant's hall. Overnight duty always made me twice as hungry but my reason for heading to breakfast was due more to expectation than feeding my growling stomach. I was hoping most of all to see if Skyler would be there. I had the morning off, no drills, thank God, a small mercy after last night. There had been some sort of commotion by the garden doors...something about a girl I was told but the details were fractured. Some guards said it was a rebel spy caught lurking about, others a servant girl that had lost it but whatever the case, I didn't care for further details and the incident didn't have any bearing on my post. I had further heard a rumor that Prince Maxon was involved. I should've been more curious about it I supposed, having seen the Prince last night but I was too tired to care. Whatever had happened, it had been handled. All was good.

I stepped into the servant's hall which was as usual, full of lively chatter and the clatter of utensils against plates, the smell of bacon in the air and coffee...yes! Coffee. The aroma of food made my stomach growl louder. Hanging my rifle on the rack, I walked over to the tables lined with food. One thing for sure, as guards, we were very well fed.

"Good morning, Hector." The perky voice of Brandy Sullivan greeted me; always with a radiant smile. When I first arrived at the palace she always made it a point to greet me at breakfast and every time placed an extra biscuit on my plate. Of course, Masterson, a close friend and fellow guard had made it a point to tell me that an extra biscuit meant she wanted to fuck me.

"It's obvious, man. It's a clear sign that she wants you, my friend, to butter her biscuit, if you know what I mean." I remember him teasing me.

Brandy was cute. A petite blonde with pretty blue eyes and freckles. She worked in the kitchen but never looked haggard or tired. And at seventeen, had the fortune of being blessed with curves in all the right places. But, blondes weren't my thing. My friend's opinion was that it didn't matter what color hair the girl had, it made no difference in the dark or between the sheets. Still, at their encouragement I gave it a shot. We shared a few dances, kisses, among other things but never a bed. And then when I saw Skyler my whole world changed.

"'Morning, Brandy," I greeted with a friendly smile.

"I heard about your hand. Are you alright?" she said, noticing the bandage I had wrapped around it again.

I flexed my fingers. It was still a bit swollen and ached with a slight throbbing that I didn't show. "It'll be alright."

"I have a tonic. I made it myself with natural herbs. I can give you a small bottle to help with that swelling if...if you want to stop by and get it."

Was that an invitation? And for more than just the tonic? Sure sounded like one by the husky tone to her voice and the gleam in her eyes which made me hot under the collar. I cleared my throat. "Dr. Ashlar gave me some stuff...but thanks."

"Well, if you change your mind...you know how to find me," she smiled, and placed that extra biscuit on my plate.

"Thanks."

"See you tomorrow, Hector."

I simply nodded and moved along until my plate was filled. Finding my usual spot and company, I slid my plate on the table where I was greeted with the usual barbs we would hurl at one another in good fun. Of course I had been prepared for it since my assignment last night was a direct result of my unfortunate incident with that damned wall.

"Attacked by any more dangerous walls, Hector?" One of my friends, Spencer, said looking up at me with a mouthful of potatoes.

I shook my head. "Nah. But I had your sister pinned against one."

A roar of laughter and "Ohhh's!" boomed from our group as I settled on the bench.

"Fuck off," he snorted, snatching the extra biscuit off my plate and tearing it in half, shoved a piece into his mouth.

The banter quickly shifted to the garden door incident as a few of my friends speculated what had been the source of the disturbance.

Masterson, my good buddy from my home town who was quickly shooting up the ranks said, "Look, all I'm saying it's that it's no big deal. Had it been we would've been on alert."

"But still...a girl?" A guard named Riley who hailed from Hudson added.

"Yeah...my point exactly. A girl. How much damage can they really do?"

"Lots. Just ask Hector here," quipped Spencer. Laughter ensued at my expense.

"Funny. Asshole." I frowned.

Masterson rested both elbows on the wooden picnic length table. "Who the hell knows the truth? Maybe she was out getting her kicks last night, got caught."

"You were on duty last night, Hector. What do you think?" asked Riley.

I shrugged, shoving a forkful of eggs into my mouth. "Didn't see nothing and besides, I don't care. Like Masterson said, had it been a real threat, they would've sounded the alarm. Especially with the Selected here."

"Alarm? You mean the one that's been broken for months?" Spencer huffed.

It was true. The alarm had been taken out by a rebel attack and still hadn't been fixed.

I shrugged. "No matter. We would've been warned."

"That's deep shit right there," said Riley. "We're setting ourselves up for disaster."

The conversation quickly morphed to the new batch of recruits we had been waiting to arrive. We needed the support, that was certain. With the rebels getting bolder and the efforts of our men outside the palace trying to snuff out their bases, their informants or any sympathizers, we were running a bit thin here at the palace. And now, with the Selected here, it was already making us all feel tense. Yet, there was a buzz of excitement about the Selected which as I listened while I ate my plate of eggs, bacon and home fries was not short on the size of breasts, asses and how damn lucky Prince Maxon was to have 35 virgin pussies at his disposal. There was already a pool going around as to which of the Selected would become the new princess. I took a couple of bets. It was a nice easy way to earn some extra money. But my mind wasn't on gambling really. My thoughts were trained on Skyler and that infernal kiss. I surmised I couldn't be too far off-base. She did kiss me back. She had! So there had to be something, even in the smallest degree starting to at least smolder. Damn it! But I had to be sure and yet I was apprehensive.

Was my apprehension unwarranted? I thought I would be a pretty good catch. I was a guard at the palace, a Two to boot. I wasn't conceited but I thought I was handsome, not the specimen of an Officer Markson but I wasn't bad to look at. I was a fun-loving guy. And a devil in bed, from what I'd been told. Yet for some reason, Skyler was not taking the bait. She said I bored her. I wasn't sure what she meant by that but I couldn't just wait around to figure it out. I needed to do something to turn the tide.

Feeling weary from the night before and disappointed that Skyler had not been at breakfast, I headed up to my quarters to clear my head. I was hoping too I would avoid much of the commotion tearing through the palace like a tornado now that the Selected were here. My respite was short-lived. I felt restless and a humming in my veins made me anxious to move about. I had to do something to clear my head of Skyler. Maybe hitting the workout room would help ease my tension. I needed release.

I threw off the sheets. Laying here thinking of how to change things wasn't really helping move things in the direction I wanted them to go. I had to take more initiative. Skyler wasn't the type of woman who was attracted to men who didn't know what they wanted. She liked a man who knew it and took charge. Like Sebastian. I smiled as something clicked. That's why she had responded to my kiss! I had taken charge. If I wanted her to be my woman, I knew what needed to be done.

With renewed enthusiasm, I took a shower and got dressed, leaving my quarters to look for Skyler.

Lady Luck as I would have it was on my side.

"Damn it!" she cried, stopping in the stairwell as we intersected. She held a basket of crumpled linens. I guessed she might've been headed down to the laundry. Her gaze told me she wasn't pleased at our inadvertent meeting.

"Just my luck. I was on my way to find you," I informed, unfazed by her glare. I wasn't going to mention she never returned my calling on her, leaving a message with Miss Anne. That would sound too weak and desperate.

Skyler looked down on me as she stood one step above me.

"Must be your unlucky day then. I have no time…for you." I bit back a chuckle. Even in her state of irritation I thought she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever laid my eyes on and not even Brandy Sullivan's tonic could quench the desire I felt deep in my bones. She moved aside to pass by me but I blocked her path with an arm.

She sighed and attempted to do the same on the opposite side. I blocked her again, this time with my injured hand which she noticed right off.

"What happened to your hand?" Her tone wasn't concerned, merely curious.

"Got into a little altercation the other day after…" I turned my body, corralling her against the wall, both of my hands firmly gripping the railing on either side of her waist.

"After what?" she hissed, but I noticed her eyes fell to my lips.

"After you so rudely ran off." I pressed against her as she used the basket like a shield between us. I could see her chest rising and falling harder.

"You mean after you assaulted me?" The dark pools of chocolate looked at me intently. I wanted nothing more than to kiss her just as hard as I had that day.

"That's pretty harsh," I smirked. Taking a chance at a knee to the groin, I leaned in closer. "I thought we were merely…getting to know each other better," I whispered in her ear.

Turning her face slightly so that I felt her breath brush against the side of my jaw, goosebumps covered my arms. I had to fight every bone in my body not to grab her. "Well…" she uttered, matching the level of my whisper, "I wish you better luck next time then."

Before I could recover, as tingles ran wild through my body, she'd pushed herself from the barrier of my arms and ran down the steps.

I gripped the railing with a tight hand, trying to steel myself against the dizziness I felt, watching after her as she disappeared. Regaining my senses, I felt encouraged. Although brief, it had been the most interaction she'd granted me. I didn't get a knee to the nuts or suffer any other physical injury. And she did wish me better luck next time. That was progress. I'll take it.

~ Marguerite

"Don't talk to me!" I walked quickly, almost in a light run as I headed back to my quarters.

"Come on, Marguerite!" Ramsey called after me. I had had the unfortunate luck of running into him when I left the common room. As if my day couldn't keep getting worse.

I was already feeling highly aggravated from Lady Celeste's incessant pampering demands and just when I thought I could find comfort in my talent, that sliver of hope I held on to had been squashed. I clenched my jaws at Mary's comment. I wasn't going to cry. Not in front of Anne and her friends…not in front of anyone. I was stronger than this feeling of hopelessness that shadowed me, even as I replayed Mary's stinging words in my head. I didn't have any bad feelings towards Anne, Mary or Lucy. They seemed like nice enough girls. And even when I was friends with Skyler who couldn't for the life of me stand Anne for whatever reasons, I remained for the most part, neutral to their little feud. Those two just seemed to butt heads like two rams in combat.

Ramsey caught up with me, taking hold of my arm. I snatched it back. "Don't touch me! Ever!" I glared at him, clutching my sketchbook to my bosom. I was breathing hard and didn't want to be bothered. Especially by him!

"What the hell did I do?" He asked, both palms facing me in defense.

My eyes narrowed. "Don't take me for a fool, Ramsey. I've had it up to here with you and your lies," I gestured with a flat hand over my head.

"Lies? What lies?"

I merely huffed and stepped around him. If he thought he would sweet talk himself out of this one he was sorely mistaken. He swiftly stepped in front of me. "If you don't get out of my way, I swear I'll make sure you're wearing an ice pack for a whole week!"

"Marguerite…" he said, smoothly, reaching out to touch my arms. I shrugged them off. Damn him! Damn my body for betraying me! My name on his tongue always triggered a flicker of desire. "What's the matter?"

That question doused any smoldering desire lurking in my body. "What's the matter?" It was incredulous he would even go there. "You have the nerve to ask me, 'What's the matter?' If you don't know then you're a bigger ass than I could've possibly imagined." I shoved him in the chest, sketchbook and all but he barely budged, his masculine form stood solid like a brick wall. Damn, it made me want him but I shook my thoughts and started off again. He didn't let me get far.

"Alright…I was wrong. I admit it. You didn't show and…"

We had planned on meeting at The Hole but with only a couple of days before the Selected arrived, I had been swamped with preparations.

"I told you I wouldn't be able to meet you," I reminded him angrily. "So you think that gives you license to flirt with Skyler or with any other girl?"

"It was an impulse, darling. I had a few shots…I wasn't thinking straight."

And why her, of all people?! I wanted to shout at him but didn't. I had to reserve a bit of my dignity. It was bad enough I had to live with all the talk of the incident afterwards. "I'm just sorry Sebastian kicking your ass wasn't thorough enough for me." He cringed. I wanted to hurt him but Ramsey's character was like an iron shield. A person like Sebastian could injure him physically but a person like me? The rush of satisfaction I felt at my words thrilled me. They hit the mark but he recovered all too quickly.

"He didn't kick my ass, alright? It was a little shoving match. Nothing more."

Why was I even listening to anything he had to say? With a voice as soft as honeyed butter, "I'm sorry," he said. "You're right. I...I was being an ass. I was upset. I shouldn't have gone there. I know."

"I thought we had something. If I'm not your girl then so be it. But I'm not going to be just a piece of ass for you either."

"You're not, sweetheart." I didn't believe him and he sensed it. "You're special to me. You know that, right?" He'd never said he loved me. Had never made any promise. The sex was fantastic but other than that, we had no planned future even though he'd hinted we might. I was so confused, so conflicted about things.

He pulled me into his arms, nuzzling my hair with his nose. He ran his open hand down my back. Even through his reassurance, his caresses, I wasn't blinded. Ramsey was a rake, a skirt chaser and I knew deep down his words were like chaff in the wind. But at the moment I didn't care. Being in his arms made me feel valued. Made me feel good. I needed something solid; something to hold on to.

I looked up at him, to those green, smoldering eyes. "I'm sorry, Marguerite." And the way he said my name, lit a torch inside of me straight to my core. "Skyler doesn't mean anything to me. I am a total fool for it. You believe me?"

I gave a little nod. Liar. If I didn't know him any better, I would've believed the sincerity in those green orbs that mocked me. I couldn't have expectations any longer. And at that moment I resigned myself not to have any. I didn't need Ramsey or any other man to change my destiny. My life was in my hands.

"Come on." I tugged his hand.

"Where are we going?"

"To escape."

I should've felt used but I didn't as Ramsey plunged himself into me harder and harder with each thrust. His hands cupped my naked bottom perched on the small table. His groans filled the little linen closet I had dragged him into. He felt good and I needed to feel good, to forget things at the moment. If Ramsey could use my body for release, I could in turn use his as well. And as I kissed him, hot and heavy, my fingers fisting his hair as he came inside of me and as I panted, my orgasm quivering around him, maybe…maybe Skyler had been right all along. There was no such thing as love. Love was a four letter word only fools believed in. And I was tired of being a fool.

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