My reflection stares back at me from the restaurant window, a stranger in clothes that don't feel like mine. The V-neck shirt Sabrina picked out plunges so deep it practically meets my navel, exposing a triangle of chest that makes me feel naked in this upscale steakhouse. I shift uncomfortably, tugging at the fabric that clings to my body like a second skin.
"You look delicious," Tara purrs from across the table, those crimson eyes devouring me with an intensity that makes my skin prickle.
I force a smile, nodding mechanically as I reach for my water glass. "Thanks."
The restaurant buzzes around us, ambient chatter and the clink of silverware creating a soundtrack that should be grounding but instead feels distant, like I'm underwater. I take a sip of water, the cool liquid sliding down my throat as my mind drifts away from this moment, this table, this woman watching me with hungry eyes.
Suddenly I'm back at that motel, my body pressed against peeling wallpaper, anonymous women using me through that hole in the wall. The phantom sensation of strange hands, unfamiliar bodies, makes my pulse quicken. Then Michelle's face swimming into view in that parking lot, her expression shifting from shock to something darker as she realized what had happened...
"Leo?"
Tara's voice yanks me back to the present. Her hand reaches across the table, fingers brushing against mine. I jerk back instinctively, knocking over the salt shaker.
"Sorry," I mutter, frantically righting the spilled salt with trembling hands. "Just... distracted."
"You've been 'distracted' all evening," Tara observes, leaning back in her chair. She studies me with those unnerving red eyes, head tilted slightly like she's trying to solve a puzzle. "What's going on in that beautiful head of yours?"
I exhale slowly, trying to steady myself. "Nothing important."
"Bullshit," she says, not unkindly. "You've been somewhere else since we sat down. Is it because of what happened at the motel last time? Because I meant what I said, Leo. I still…"
"I don't want to talk about that," I cut in, my voice sharper than intended. The words hang awkwardly between us as a waiter passes with a tray of sizzling steaks, the scent of charred meat momentarily distracting us both.
Tara's expression shifts, concern replacing her usual confidence. She leans forward, those crimson eyes softening in a way that makes my chest tighten.
"Are you alright, Leo?" she asks, and the genuine worry in her voice catches me off guard. She reaches for my hand again, slower this time, giving me plenty of time to pull away. I don't. "We don't have to do anything tonight, you know. We can just talk if that's all you want."
I stare at our hands, her fingers now intertwined with mine. Sabrina's words echo in my head, "Consider this a trial run." She'd kissed me goodbye this morning with that enigmatic smile, practically shoving me into Tara's car without explaining what kind of trial she meant.
"I'm fine," I insist, though the crack in my voice betrays me. I pull my hand away and reach for my wine glass, taking a long sip to avoid meeting her gaze.
"Leo," Tara's voice drops to a whisper, surprisingly gentle coming from someone who usually commands every room she enters. "Please talk to me. I want to be a safe space for you."
When I finally look up, the vulnerability in her expression catches me off guard. There's no calculation there, no manipulation, just genuine worry that makes my carefully constructed walls begin to crumble.
"You know I would never take advantage of you," she continues, her thumb brushing against the back of my hand. "Whatever's happening with you and Sabrina... I'm not trying to make it worse."
I swallow hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to speak. "It's complicated," I finally manage, setting my wine glass down with a shaky hand. "Sabrina's been... pushing boundaries lately. Things I never thought I'd do again."
"Like what?" Tara asks, her voice careful, measured.
The words sit heavy on my tongue, refusing to form. How do I explain the glory hole? Michelle? The way Sabrina's eyes lit up when I asked her about what happened? The strange mixture of horror and arousal I felt seeing that light, knowing I'd do anything to keep it there?
"Just... things that remind me of before," I say vaguely. "Of when I was working."
Tara's jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. "And you don't want to be reminded of that time," she says. It's not a question.
"Actually, I'm fine. Honestly." The words sound hollow even to my own ears.
Tara's crimson eyes narrow, studying me with an intensity that makes me squirm. She doesn't believe me, not for a second. The silence between us stretches, punctuated only by the restaurant's ambient noise.
"Come on," I say, forcing brightness into my voice. "Let's just have fun tonight. That's why we're here, right?" I reach for my wine glass again, taking another large swallow for courage.
"That's why we're here," Tara repeats slowly, as if testing the truth of the statement. She leans back, something shifting in her expression, a softening around the edges that makes her look almost vulnerable.
"I've been texting with Sabrina a lot lately," Tara says abruptly, setting her wine glass down with purpose.
My stomach drops. "That's... nerve-wracking."
"She's given me permission to date you," Tara continues. "Properly date you."
"Yes," I nod, the lie slipping out before I can stop it. "Sabrina mentioned that to me." In truth, Sabrina hasn't said a word about this arrangement outside of just talking about things she wanted to do in the future, but admitting that would only complicate things further.
Tara leans forward, her crimson eyes gleaming with something that looks like triumph but feels more desperate. "We're ironing out the details still, but I'm probably going to have you live with me for a month. You won't see Sabrina at all during that time. It will just be you and me. Alone." She reaches for my hand again, gripping it tightly. "And I will make you mine, Leo."
There's something in her voice that catches me off guard, beneath the confident exterior, I hear a plea. Like she's not just trying to possess me, but rescue me. As if I need saving from Sabrina.
"You told Sabrina that?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Yes," Tara nods firmly.
I stare at her for a long moment, searching her face for any sign of deception. Finding none, I finally ask, "When do I move in with you?"
"That's what we're still trying to figure out," she says, her fingers tracing patterns on my palm.
The waiter arrives with our steaks, setting the plates down with practiced flourish. The meat sizzles, filling the air between us with the rich scent of butter and herbs. Neither of us moves to pick up our utensils.
"A month is a long time," I say once the waiter retreats. "What exactly are you hoping to accomplish?"
Tara's expression softens, vulnerability flickering across her features before she masks it with her usual confidence. "I want to show you what life could be like without Sabrina's... influence." She chooses her words carefully, watching my reaction. "I think you've forgotten who you really are, Leo."
I cut into my steak, focusing on the perfect pink center rather than meeting her gaze. "And who am I, exactly?"
"Someone deserving of protection," she says simply. "Someone who shouldn't be passed around like property."
I set down my fork, my appetite suddenly gone. The truth rises in my throat, demanding to be spoken.
"Tara, I care about you a lot," I say, my voice softer than intended. "I really cherished our time together back then, and I shouldn't have run away from you like I did."
She leans forward eagerly, hope flickering in those crimson eyes, but I force myself to continue before she can speak.
"But you're after something you'll never have with me." The words hurt to say, but they need to be said. "Let's say this month-long experiment goes perfectly. Let's imagine we fall deeply for each other. Even then, I'll never leave Sabrina. Never."
Tara's face hardens, her fingers tightening around her wine glass. "You don't know that."
"I do," I insist gently. "I love her. I owe her my life, Tara. She found me when I was nothing, when I was broken beyond repair, and she put me back together."
"She's breaking you again," Tara whispers fiercely. "Can't you see that?"
I shake my head, my chest tight with conflicting emotions. "At best, you'll only ever be my number two. And you genuinely deserve better than that."
Tara's face transforms before my eyes, her features contorting with rage so sudden and fierce it makes me flinch. The restaurant around us fades to background noise as her crimson eyes lock onto mine, burning with an intensity that pins me to my seat.
"Number two?" she hisses, her knuckles whitening around her wine glass. For a terrifying moment, I think she might throw it at me.
Instead, she sets it down with deliberate control, her movements unnaturally precise. She leans across the table, close enough that I can feel her breath on my face as she drops her voice to a dangerous whisper.
"I lost you once, Leo," she says, each word dripping with a possessive fury that sends ice down my spine. "I spent seven years searching for you. Seven years wondering if you were even alive." Her hand shoots out, gripping my wrist with bruising force. "I am never letting you go again."