Beloved

Author's Note:

I hope all y'all had a fantastic holiday season - This chapter release got a bit delayed due to the craziness of all that, but it's here finally, huzzah! ;D

'Beloved'

is an actual story, with *le gasp* a real, honest-to-god plot and character development. So if you haven't read the previous chapters yet, you will be entirely lost if you try to read this - For optimal enjoyment, please go read the rest of the series first. I promise it's worth it!<3

As always, I would like to remind my readers that the events in this story are fictional and should never,

EVER

, under any circumstances be attempted or reenacted in real life. Like most of the works under the Non-Consent/Reluctance category, the things portrayed here are a fun fantasy to explore in a book or piece of erotica, but would be abhorrent and incredibly illegal/immoral in reality. Please enjoy it as the work of fiction it is!

Thank you SO MUCH to my amazing friends who are helping to proofread this and also listen to me constantly bitch about how hard it is to write Rand's dialogue, they're amazing, and SO helpful! You guys are the best!!!

If you enjoy my work, please consider following, commenting, or leaving a rating - It really helps me out!!!

I would ALSO like to send a super special shoutout to the lovely reader who sent me such sweet anonymous feedback on Christmas Day - It really made me smile, and helped me power through writing the rest of this chapter! You're amazing!<3

Happy reading! ;D

xoxo,

G.M. Gardner<3

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Coffee, kitten?"

"Yes, please." I said with a yawn, trying to work the kinks out of my neck. "How'd you sleep, Boss?"

Rand gave me a glance as he poured us both a cup of liquid motivation. "How you think?"

"Like a baby?" I asked innocently, his answering snort making me grin.

Last night's bet had gone off the rails when my usual luck with Go Fish hadn't shown up to the party, and when I'd handily lost our little tournament, Rand had been quick to declare that he'd meant the winner got to 'pick' where they slept and tried to claim the floor for himself.

Naturally I'd called him out on his bullshit, and he'd asked for a rematch... Which I had

also

lost, arguably even worse than the first time around.

Rand hadn't tried to talk me out of sleeping on the floor after that, but as soon as I'd set up my makeshift bed he'd quietly taken the leftover blankets and pillows for his own spot in the opposite corner of the room. When I'd helpfully pointed out that he could just take the

actual

bed, he'd just wished me goodnight before curling up and pretending to go to sleep.

Our mutual stubbornness had resulted in some very impressive dark circles, but it had also served to solidify the ease between us - There was a softness in the air this morning, a sweetness that rivaled the impressive amount of sugar Rand poured into his coffee as I sipped my own, letting out a blissful little sigh as the much-missed taste of mocha rolled over my tongue.

Rand raised an eyebrow, and I raised the styrofoam cup to him in a toast in answer. "Not even a hint of hazelnut," I explained happily. "I think this might be what heaven tastes like, Boss."

His lips twitched as he leaned in to inspect the surface of my coffee. "No dog hair either? Even better."

I pulled a face, pretending to pick something off the tip of my tongue. "Oh no, there's

definitely

some in there. Guess Grant wanted to make sure I didn't miss a dose, start going into withdrawals?"

"Probably," he agreed with a chuckle, nodding towards the bathroom. "Wanna go first, kitten? Gonna shower. Shave. Might be a while."

"Nope, it's all yours, big guy," I said, hesitating before adding hopefully, "Can I borrow your razor after you're done? I promise I won't do anything weird with it, I'm just

really

tired of being fuzzy."

Rand cocked his head questioningly. "Fuzzy?"

"Yeah, I don't think I've gone this long without shaving since I was a teenager," I said, gesturing at the obvious hair on my legs. "You can't tell me you haven't noticed?"

"Sure," he said, eyeing my regrowth impassively. "It's hot."

That was not at all the answer I was expecting, but I had to admit it made sense. After all, Rand was used to Grant, who - at least as far as I'd noticed - didn't subscribe to body hair removal beyond some light manscaping to keep everything neat and tidy.

"Smooth legs are

also

hot," I promised. "Pretty please, Boss?"

Rand considered it for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. With supervision." When I arched an eyebrow at him, he raised one in return. "Not that kind."

"Suuuuure," I said, giving him a little smirk over the rim of my cup. "Whatever you say, Boss."

Rand's cheeks went slightly pink, and I bit back a giggle as he stepped past me without further comment, grabbing a handful of clothes before heading for the bathroom.

I waited until the door shut behind him to go about my own business, crouching down to feel around underneath my nightstand for the tiny treasure I kept hidden there. It wasn't anything special, just a piece of gravel that I'd smuggled in early on that wasn't big enough or sharp enough to be of any real use, but it had proved to be perfect for one very important job.

I pulled the nightstand drawer open to reveal a series of tiny notches carved into the inside lip, humming tunelessly under my breath as I set about scratching in two more - One for the day I'd missed adding yesterday, and another for today.

I did a quick count to confirm it had officially been nine days since I'd gotten snatched, idly sipping my coffee as I eyed the marks.

Time flies when you're having fun, huh? So let's see, if day one was the fifteenth, that means that today would be the twenty-thir-

I choked, coughing wetly and pounding at my chest as the significance of that date hit me like a ton of bricks.

Because today was a day I'd been looking forward to for

months

, a special occasion that had taken pride of place in my calendar ever since I'd scribbled hearts around it in glitter pen all the way back in high school.

It was Lindy's birthday.

I'd pulled out all the stops when planning this year's party - The guest list was a mile long, the venue a swanky bar downtown, and I felt every bit of warmth and color drain away as I wondered if she was still going to throw her big birthday bash without me.

Bet she is

, whispered that nasty little voice in the back of my head.

Bet you anything right now she's sipping mimosas and getting her feet rubbed at that fancy spa you booked, sighing about how 'sad' it is that you couldn't come along...

I hated that I had to agree, because I was far too aware of one very unfortunate fact about my best - or rather,

ex

-best - friend.

Lindy was a

bitch

.

That had never seemed like a problem when I was wearing pink on Wednesdays and watching the fireworks from a safe vantage point by her side, my involvement in her antics limited to rolling my eyes and affectionately calling her a cunt while some other unfortunate soul got the brunt of her bitchiness.

It was slightly less endearing when that mean streak of hers had gotten me sold so far down the river I wasn't sure I'd ever see home again.

It wasn't like I hadn't thought about Lindy since I'd been here. All those endless hours sitting at Grant's feet had given me ample time to come up with theories about why she'd stabbed me in the back, ranging from as mundane as blackmail all the way up to a fun, far-fetched fantasy involving Joe's love of sports betting and the Mafia that I'd wasted an entire afternoon's worth of daydreams on.

None of them added up.

Nothing could explain the complete lack of warning, the way Lindy had just walked away and left twenty-five years of friendship bleeding out on the floor without so much as a backwards glance.

Part of me still desperately wanted to believe that she was innocent, just a pawn in some twisted game the two men had played to get me into their clutches. But that part was tiny, a mere fraction compared to the side of me that knew with absolute certainty that whatever had gone down, Lindy's hands were just as dirty as anyone else's.

Though... That wasn't exactly true either, if I was being honest with myself.

Because for all of Grant and Rand's sins, they were well aware that I was alive and well - and also seemed incredibly invested in

keeping

me that way - while I couldn't shake the sickening feeling that from where Lindy was sitting, one of the things staining those perfectly manicured fingers of hers was currently running through my veins.

At least it'll match her birthday outfit?

I thought dully, picking absentmindedly at the chipped remnants of my own manicure.

Scarlet nails with a little black dress, you really can't get more backstabber chic than that...

I was still staring forlornly off into the distance when Rand returned, his freshly shaved head gleaming faintly. He stopped short as I jumped guiltily, palming the pebble and shutting the drawer with a snap.

"What you up to, kitten?"

"Nothing," I said far too quickly, my heart sinking as Rand came over and held his hand out expectantly.

Damn it.

I reluctantly dropped my precious pebble into his palm, and he rolled it between his fingers before turning his attention to the drawer. I held my breath as he discovered the telltale marks, running a fingertip over them like he was counting them up.

"Thought you were kidding," Rand commented, pointedly placing the pebble in the drawer and closing it again. "But no. Prison calendar."

I couldn't look at him, staring at my feet as I answered dully, "Gotta keep track somehow, y'know?"

"Sure," he agreed, sitting next to me on the edge of the bed. "Sorry, kitten. Should've bought you one. Didn't think of it."

Mere minutes ago the sincerity in his apology might have made me blush, given me an excuse to add another layer of warmth to that glow in my chest. Now there was nothing to be found but numbness, no emotion at all in my whisper of, "No worries, Boss."

There was a moment's silence, then Rand gave a deep sigh. I tensed, readying myself for the third degree, but when he spoke the question caught me by surprise.

"Wanna punch me?"

I blinked at him in surprise. "Excuse me?"

"Hit me. Might help?" He gestured to his jaw. "Go on, kitten. On the house."

I wasn't sure if he was kidding or not, but it didn't really matter either way, so I just gave him a weak smile. "I don't think breaking my hand on your face is going to make me feel any better? But thanks, Boss. Nice of you to offer."

"Fair enough." Rand eyed me carefully. "What will?"

"Nothing. Nothing's going to help, because it's-" I hesitated for only a second before realizing this fell squarely into the '

Stuff a Stalker Would Already Know

' category, finishing miserably, "It's Lindy's birthday today."

Never in a million years could I have predicted that Rand's face would go blank as he uttered one single, completely impossible word.

"Who?"

"Lindy?" I repeated slowly, and when he still looked mystified, I tried, "You know, my best friend? The woman whose house you kidnapped me from?"

Rand's expression cleared, and he gave a short nod. "Right. Malinda. You call her Lindy?"

"How the hell do you not know that?" I asked, staring at him in disbelief. "You have to have seen us together literally hundreds of times!"

"Can't read lips," he said with a shrug. "Pup calls her Malinda. No way to know."

"Joe also calls her Lindy?" I pointed out. "Haven't you ever noticed that?"

Rand gave another shrug, but this one was heavier, matching the way his tone changed as he admitted, "Never met Joe. Pup doesn't... Well." He gave a rueful chuckle. "You've seen his outfits. That boy loves a closet. His sister knows. Other than that?"

I felt my stomach sink as Rand shook his head in a way that spoke volumes about his feelings on the matter. It wrapped the mystery of their missing wedding bands up with a neat little bow, but it didn't feel like a win, the idea that someone as affectionate as Grant would even be capable of hiding his husband from the world difficult to wrap my mind around.

I also couldn't imagine dating - let alone

marrying

- someone who wanted to keep my existence a secret, my heart going out to the giant as I whispered, "That really sucks, Boss."

"Yep," Rand agreed without hesitation. "Sure fucking does."

"So you're not in the closet, then?" I guessed, and his lips curved into the shadow of a smile.

"Wouldn't fit, kitten."

I wasn't about to argue with that logic, about to ask what his family thought of Grant when Rand continued bluntly, "So. The Malinda thing. Been bothering you?"

"That's one way to put it," I admitted with a wince, gesturing at my back. "Kinda hard to ignore the knife she left stuck in there, y'know?"

Rand leaned back to examine my shoulder blades. "Went pretty deep. Huh, kitten?" When I nodded, he splayed his hand across the spot, the warmth of his touch easing the phantom ache as he continued quietly, "Nine days. Zero questions. Why? Why not

ask

?"

It was a damn good question, and surprisingly simple to answer, the uncomfortable truth rolling off my tongue without having to think about it.

"Because I'm not sure I really

want

to ask, Boss."

I didn't let that confession of my own cowardice linger a second longer than necessary, continuing in a rush, "Don't get me wrong, I've been

this

close to pulling the trigger more times than I can count, but I know - I

know

- that the second I mention Lindy's name, Grant's gonna... I mean, there's no way in hell he's not gonna..."

"Talk?"

Rand managed to turn that single word into an entire paragraph's worth of meaning, a firsthand account of Grant's ability to chatter on until the end of time, and I bit my lip and nodded.

"Yeah, Boss," I whispered. "He's gonna talk."

"You don't want that?"

"I don't know," I said honestly, staring at the far wall without really seeing it. "Not knowing is awful, but what if whatever he says is even worse? What do I do then, Boss?"

"Lay down and die," Rand said flatly. "Obviously."

Oh

hell

no

.

All traces of my little pity party vanished in an instant, apathy retreating to make room for annoyance as I puffed up indignantly.

"I'm sorry, if you think for a

second

that I'm just going to give up on life just because Lindy's a backstabbing bitch, then you have another thing coming," I proclaimed, turning to glare at him. "I swear to god, Boss, if you think I am

ever

going to just lay down and die, you can fu-"

I cut myself off as I realized Rand's chest was vibrating with silent laughter, his eyes crinkled with amusement as he watched me put my hackles up.

This fucking marshmallow, I swear to god...

I let out a long breath, fighting a smile despite myself as I said accusingly, "You think it's funny to rile me up, don't you, big guy?"

"Yep," he said unapologetically. "Sure do, killer."

"I'm starting to think you're going to put that on my tag," I muttered, shooting him a disgruntled look. "Make me come whenever you call it."

"Good idea," Rand agreed, far too readily. "Should get on that."

"See, that time

I

was kidding," I explained, and he gave a snort that said loud and clear '

It's not up to you, now is it?

'

Familiar noises started up overhead, the busy bustling telling me Grant had finally started getting ready for the day. I looked up at the ceiling nervously as Rand gave my back a reassuring pat.

"You should ask, kitten," he advised. "Get it over with."

I sighed, wrinkling my nose at him. "I'll be honest, I don't really think it's the best day for it?"

"Perfect day for it," Rand countered. "On your mind. Nothing better to do. Might as well."

"What if I just asked

you

, Boss?" I asked hopefully. "Skipped the middleman? Got a few less words in the mix?"

"Pup's story to tell," he answered firmly. "Not mine." When I opened my mouth to protest, he raised an eyebrow. "Trust me, kitten.

He

needs to do it."

"Fine," I muttered, not bothering to conceal my disappointment. "I'll consider it, I guess."

Rand seemed content with my half-hearted answer, giving me one of his patented Nose Boops of Approval. "That's my girl. Still want to shave?"

I perked up at the reminder, hurrying to pick out the perfect outfit for today from my 'new' clothes before following him into the bathroom.

It only took a few minutes to get my legs and pits done, my mood lifting with every bit of hair that washed down the drain. I'd been planning to skip my pubes - because that was undignified enough when I was by myself, let alone with an audience - but Rand had left a hand mirror laying next to the razor, which I took as a not-so-subtle hint to go ahead and go back to bare.

Luckily Rand's supervision was just as hands-off as he'd promised, and after I was done, he rubbed one of my silky-smooth legs and hummed in approval. "That

is

nice."

"Told you!" I said, grinning at him. "Makes me feel pretty, feels super sexy... Win-win!"

A flash of mischief sparked in Rand's eyes as he eyed the razor. "Should make pup try. Just for fun."

"I think that'd be too close to wearing white for him?" I quipped, earning an amused snort in return. "You sticking around for the rest of the show, Boss?"

"Nah," he said, tossing the razor and mirror back into his shaving kit. "All yours, kitten. Take your time."

As the door shut behind him, I went through the motions of getting ready for the day, doing my hair and makeup and pulling on a gorgeous wrap dress of yellow-and-blue floral silk that had threads of brilliant gold woven into the delicate fabric.

It was the prize pick of the clothes Grant had packed for me yesterday, a custom piece I'd had made from one of my grandmother's favorite saris after she passed. She'd always said it made her feel like the sun was shining even on the cloudiest day, and it had never once failed to bring me a bit of extra luck when I needed it most.

I wasn't sure if I was going to actually get up the nerve to ask Grant about Lindy today, but I figured hedging my bets couldn't hurt on the off chance I did. I smoothed out the wrinkles and tied the sash into place, going through my silly little ritual of whispering a few words in my grandmother's honor and spinning around three times before heading back out into the bedroom.

Rand looked up from pouring himself another cup of coffee and gave a low whistle, running his eyes over me appreciatively.

"Pup's gonna go nuts," he warned, but there was a fondness in the words. "Needed some luck. Huh, kitten?"

Oh, so you don't know my best friend's nickname, but you can pick my lucky dress out of a lineup?

I kept that snarky comment to myself, giving a little twirl to show off the shimmering silk. "Yep! Just you watch, Boss, I'm gonna be walking on sunshine all day now. One-hundred-percent guaranteed."

Rand's lips curved into a tiny smile. "Bet you are. Got any to spare?" When I looked at him questioningly, he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Luck? Or sunshine. Bit low on both."

I was far too aware that the only reason I was getting to see the sun myself today was because he had insisted on it, and after a moment's thought I headed to the dresser, pulling the sash out of my chambray dress and using it to replace my own.

"Here," I said, holding the length of cheerful yellow-and-blue fabric out to him. "I don't think the dress will fit you, but maybe this'll help, Boss? Give you enough luck to get through the day?"

For a moment I thought Rand wasn't going to take it, his hand oddly hesitant as he reached out. Rubbing the soft silk thoughtfully between his fingers, he looked at me with an expression I couldn't quite read.