Branded (Strand Brothers Series Book 1)(5)

It was a valid point. In the year that I’d been involved with Caleb, he’d threatened to strike me more than once. But he never followed through. Although I began to realize, pushing him too far might have dire results. And like I said before, he was well connected. Not that I was making any excuses for his behavior, but, the fact remained, in my business getting knocked around really was nothing new. All any of my clients had to say was: “I got a little rough during sex, and she enjoyed it.”

I sighed heavily. Never did I think I would become a high-priced call girl. Really? What little girl dreamt of such a thing? When I started five years ago, it was going to be short term—and I was only going to escort. Yeah, right. Let’s face it; the money was too good to walk away from, not to mention my parents really needed the financial help that I had no other way of obtaining. My only true hang-up was that I in no way wanted to be with married men. I learned quickly I didn’t have to be, and, well, as the saying goes, “When in Rome…” Yep, I’ve made a huge mess out of my life. Where did all of my hopes and dreams go? Oh, hell, no! I refuse to go down that road. What’s done is done. Time to pull up my big girl panties and face the big, bad wolf. Um…maybe a red dress would be much more appropriate for this evening. I inwardly chuckled.

Renée stood and walked into the kitchen. A couple minutes later, she returned with a shot of whiskey. “Here’s to liquid courage.”

I raised my glass and affirmed, “Hear, hear.” In one gulp, my glass was empty. “Thanks for trying to help me out, Ren. I do love you.”

“Yeah. Yeah. What’s not to love?” She preened. Her face became serious when she said, “We’ll figure this out, Aims. Don’t worry about tonight. You’ll be fine, I promise.”

My lips curved up slightly. “From your lips to God’s ears. I’ll text you when I get home. If you don’t hear from me, call in reinforcements.”

When you were in the kind of business we were in, you had to have someone looking out for you. Renée and I had been each other’s safe call since college. I knew if she needed to, Blade would be brought in. The fact that he was Renée’s brother helped immensely. What didn’t help was that he was a mean son-of-a-bitch. You did not want to piss that man off. His name said it all. It was his gang name, and he still lived up to the rep. He scared the living daylights out of me; however, the knowledge that he’d take care of whatever or whomever we needed him to was comforting.





I arrived at the Delmont around five thirty that evening. Caleb spotted me instantly. I was swept into his side tightly before I said, “Hello.” By the feel of his tense body, I knew this would be a night to tread lightly. He was in no mood to hear the word no. Quite frankly, I was in no mood to fight with him. My decision to be subservient tonight would serve me well. I’d obviously learned a few tricks of the trade—so to speak—when to take the upper hand with a man and when to speak only when spoken to.

Once he finished his conversation with one of his cronies, he turned to me. “You will obey me, Aimee,” he ordered. “I’ll be damned if you refuse me publicly. Are we clear?”

I kept my eyes on the floor and softly answered, “Yes, sir.”

While he stroked my back, he praised, “Good girl.”

I mentally rolled my eyes at him and then flipped him the bird. Please! BDSM was not my thing or his either. He just liked control of any and every situation. I honestly had no problems with that. I was drawn to commanding men, as well as gorgeous ones. Once you got past the whole “do as I say or else” persona, you realized he was quite charming. With his dark brown hair and chocolate eyes, plus, his lean, athletic build, you had yourself one nice piece of man candy. He ought to come with a warning to all ladies: Look out! No wonder the man held a seat in the senate at the tender age of thirty-eight. He had a charisma that drew you in. There really wasn’t a woman who could resist his thousand-watt smile. Even I had fallen victim, until he slowly began to reveal his true self. Now, the man gave me the heebie-jeebies. Something was off. But after a year, I still couldn’t figure out what it was.

By six the party was in full swing, with Caleb and me taking center stage. In true Caleb fashion, he commanded the crowd. After his spiel, he got down on one knee. “Aimee, my dear, you are my light. I cannot imagine another day without you being my wife.” He held my hand a little too tightly as he popped the question: “Would you do me the honor of marrying me?”

There were “ooohs” and “aaahs” throughout the room. For full effect, a single tear ran down Caleb’s cheek. Oh, please! I had to hand it to him, he was good. My bottom lip trembled out shear terror, albeit the effect was magnificent. Even Caleb thought it was from the proposal. I quietly answered, “Yes.” When he dipped me over his arm and kissed me, I was more than surprised. There was triumph in his eyes once he pulled away. This was definitely an oh, shit moment. How would I get out from under this train wreck? I felt like a wild animal that had just been trapped. As cold sweat trickled down my spine, I chanted to myself: I will not pass out. I will not pass out. Nothing helped. Once we were off stage, I politely excused myself. “I need to use the powder room. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”