He downed the rest of his brandy and headed downstairs, not wanting to be alone. Being with people kept his mind quiet. And that night he definitely had to keep the memories and all the demons they conjured up at bay; otherwise, he'd do something he'd regret, like riding back to Aspen and taking Clotille with him after he stomped the rich fucker to death.
Wendy and Rosie were seated at one of the tables leafing through People and Cosmopolitan. He grabbed a beer at the bar and plopped down on a chair at their table, his eyes riveted on Seth Rollins as he attempted to throw Brock Lesnar on the ground. Several brothers were gathered around the television cheering and cussing at it as the top-notch WWE wrestlers entertained the crowd.
"You doing okay, honey?" Wendy asked Rock. "You look tense."
"I've been better." He took a long pull of beer. I can't believe Clotille's in Aspen. She must've recognized me the first night we were doing that shitty gig. That's why she kept hiding her face. She fuckin' knew it was me and didn't say shit about it at the restaurant. She just keeps fuckin' with me. Been doing it since we were kids.
"Want a massage?" Wendy pushed her chair back and knelt in front of him, gently pushing his legs apart. She settled between his legs and began giving him a hand and arm massage.
"Scoot your chair forward, sweetie," Rosie whispered in his ear. He moved forward a bit and Rosie slid behind him and began massaging his shoulders. "Damn, you are tense. Your muscles are like cement." She kissed his shoulders gently as her strong fingers dug into his skin. It felt so damn good the way Rosie worked out his kinks and Wendy moved her adept hands up and down his arms. Watching her tits bounce in her very low-cut top was a bonus. While they worked their magic on him, his thoughts flitted back to Clotille. He was getting real pissed at how she kept creeping back into his mind. For some unknown reason, he felt responsible for her, at least in her current situation. It wasn't that he wanted her back in his life; he just wanted to help her get hers straightened out. After all, they had known each other since they were kids, and if he turned his back on her now he knew the guilt would nag him the rest of his life. If she really doesn't want to leave, then I'll stay the fuck out of her life forever. I want her to look me in the eyes and tell me to go away without that motherfucker around. If she does, then that's it. Fini.
"You want us to give you a full-body massage?" Wendy cupped his crotch and squeezed suggestively.
"I'm good. There's some stuff I have to do. I'll catch you later. Thanks, ladies." He bent over and kissed Wendy quickly on the lips, then craned his neck and nipped Rosie's cheek. The two women returned to their chairs and resumed thumbing through their magazines. He went up to his room and grabbed a small bag, throwing in his toiletries and a couple of T-shirts and changes of underwear. He'd have to stake out the house for a few days to get the feel of Frederick and the staff's routine. He wanted to make sure he had time to talk with Clotille and take her out of there if that was what she decided.
He sat on the chair and looked out at the dirt road that led up to the thirty-foot chain-linked fence which surrounded the clubhouse. It ended on the edge of the two-lane highway that was a black ribbon wrapping around the mountains. When dust clouds obscured his view, he knew the babysitting brigade was back from their gig. Rising up, he left his room to meet them as they came into the club.
Rock stood against the bar as the men entered. Throttle threw him a wide grin and headed in his direction, followed by Bones and Wheelie. "What the fuck happened today?" Throttle asked as he picked up the shot of Jack the prospect placed on the bar.
"I was ready to beat the shit outta that motherfucking asshole. That's all."
Bones and Wheelie joined Throttle in guffawing. "I'd have loved to have seen that," Bones said between gasps for air. "That dude has such a big stick up his ass."
"I'm surprised you're back so early." Rock put his beer bottle to his lips.
"I think you pissed the dude off big time. Not too long after you left, the other guys took off." Wheelie settled on the barstool.
Rock's stomach churned when he thought of how Frederick would make Clotille pay for talking with him. He'd been careless and selfish in his haste to see the woman who'd held his interest since the dinner party. He hadn't considered what would happen to her if the fuckwad caught her talking with him. And now that she was Clotille, the thought of any harm coming to her made his anger burn.
"The arrogant fucker made sure to tell us that you're not allowed on his property anymore. Hell, we decided we're gonna tell Banger the next time the asshole needs us, he's gonna have to find someone to replace us. We're done with this shit." Throttle motioned Puck for another shot. The rest of the guys came over, mouthing their agreement with Throttle.
Rock nodded and touched fists with several of the brothers. There's no way in hell that fucker's gonna keep me away until I hear Clotille tell me face-to-face without him around. After a couple games of pool, Rock went to Banger's office and knocked on the door, opening it when he heard his president's voice.
Banger was slipping on his jacket and shoving his phone in its pocket when Rock walked in. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" he asked.
Banger glanced at the clock on the wall. "If it won't take too long. I was supposed to be home like fifteen minutes ago. What's on your mind?"
"I just need a few days off. I got some shit to sort out."
The president stared at him. "Yeah, you've seemed tense and off-kilter for a few weeks. Taking a few days off seems like a smart move. I'll have Jax take over while you're gone."
Rock nodded and left the room. If Banger knew the real reason why he was taking some time off, he'd be livid. Since Banger didn't know, there was no risk in Rock going against his president's orders. He climbed the stairs, wanting to get some shut-eye before he slipped out of the clubhouse into the early morning darkness and made his way to Clotille.
Chapter Eight
Clotille lay on her side, knees bent and close to her body, finger gripping the steel bars of the cage Frederick had placed her in after he'd lectured her on what she'd done wrong by talking to the biker. He'd started her discipline by pulling her hair with a series of "what did you do wrong" question-and-response routines with an occasional swat on her behind with her hairbrush. Normally, that would have sufficed for her punishment for being a bad girl, but he'd been so angry and disappointed in her, he'd told her he'd have to do something more so she would never do it again.
When he dragged her by her hair to the cage he kept in one of the locked rooms on the main floor, her heart had dropped. The steel cage was too small and she had to crumple herself into a ball in order to fit, unable to stretch out her limbs or turn around.
As he watched her get inside, he'd said, "I know you hate the cage the most, and that's why I'm using it as your punishment. You've angered me more today than you ever have during our time together. You humiliated me by talking to that dirty biker. I know you're attracted to him. I could see it in your eyes. Since you humiliated me, you will lie in your cage until I decide you should come out. Do you understand why I am doing this to you?"
"Yes, Sir," she said in a low voice, the embarrassment in lying naked in a cage with him watching her, so pathetic and immovable, hitting her in her core. He locked the steel door, then sat on a straight-backed chair and gazed at her for what seemed like an eternity. Every once in a while he'd chuckle at her shame and pain. He was deriving an enormous amount of pleasure from her punishment, but then she was there to pleasure him. Her body was his to do with as he wanted. He owned her.
She heard him stand up from his chair and walk out of the room. Soon she smelled the delicious aroma of grilled meat, and she knew he'd bring his food into the room and eat it while he watched her. Of course, she'd have no food until the following day.
As she lay on the cool steel floor of her cage, her mind filled with images of Rock and her stomach clenched. Seeing him up close, talking with him, sharing that very short moment with him makes this damn cage worth it. She was proud of how well she'd lied to Frederick when he'd questioned her repeatedly about her attraction to the biker. She never once revealed that they knew each other, and he believed her. He even admitted the biker was more at fault than she was, but he punished her hard anyway. Clotille suspected it was because the younger, buffed Rock made Frederick feel insecure and jealous. So she was punished for Rock being a stud. The irony hit her and she almost laughed aloud, but she held it in for fear that he'd think she was enjoying her punishment. Some subs enjoyed the punishment aspect as much or more than the pleasure element of their relationship with their Dom, and they would manipulate their Master by purposefully misbehaving so they could be punished. Clotille was definitely not one of those.