by Bane, Lucian
Her lip quirked as she read on.
Then I gave you that naughty drink to loosen you up. That was the first time I encountered your fiery side.
Naughty drink? What did that mean?
When you woke up, we had a nice chat.
Woke up?
And although I never found out what you wanted, I decided the strange anomaly that you were was worth going to prison over, and so we signed a contract.
Signed a contract! What! The actual! Fuck!
Mercy read on, mouth stuck open as she tried to follow the events. It was like they’d been given by a rambling drunk. They’d signed a contract, and she had no real clue why.
She skimmed on and got to something interesting. Only to read, “And then I did that thing that made you tie me up.”
She slammed the notebook shut and scrambled out of bed only to realize she had no transportation. Making her way onto her hands and knees, she crawled to the door and opened it. Looking left and right, she then crawled to Sade’s door and knocked.
“What!”
She opened the door and saw his bandaged feet at the end of the bed. “What thing did you do that made me tie you up?”
He bolted up in bed, looking at her.
“Sorry if you were expecting other company.”
“I wasn’t,” he barked. “And I’m not telling.” He laid back down and Mercy slammed his door shut and crawled to his bed. Climbing up, she gasped and lowered back to the floor.
“You’re naked!”
“And?”
“Cover yourself!”
“Why? This is my room.”
“Because I asked you to.”
“That’s not asking, try again.”
“Please cover yourself for crying out loud.”
She heard him sigh, and the bed moved around. “There.”
She got back up and gasped, dropping to the floor again. “Sade!”
“You didn’t say cover what!”
“Oh my God. You are such a player, aren’t you? Playing on words, playing on lives? Playing in your little stories, guess what I meant, guess what I did. How am I supposed to remember anything with your sloppy recollection?”
He sat up and stared at her. “You want to remember?”
“Of course I do! Do you want to help me? And what the hell contract did we sign and why? So much of what you wrote baffles my mind, why are you leaving so many parts out?”
“I’m not a writer. You suggested I write it. Are you ready for me to show you?”
She sat with her jaw dropped. “I’m ready for you to tell me.”
“I’m not telling you that.”
“Why not?”
“Not necessary.”
“This must paint you in a bad light, I’m guessing? I don’t even get to know how I managed to tie you up. Was this some sexcapade or-or sadomasochistic thing?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
He crossed his legs and looked right then shook his head. “I can’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
His hot gaze pinned hers suddenly. “Because I’m not proud of it, okay?”
That wasn’t what she’d expected to hear and suddenly felt… bad. The guilty kind. “So what, we’ve all done things we’re not proud of.” She climbed on the bed, keeping her gaze averted. “Look… I would like for you to help me remember. But… you have to trust me too.”
“You don’t even like me.”
“I never said that.”
“Angel,” he muttered. She saw his head shaking out the corner of her eye.
“Can you please cover?” He jerked a pillow over his groin and she let out a sigh of relief, looking at him. Okay, fine. I’ll try harder.”
“I don’t want your charity,” he muttered, still looking away.
“Then help me remember.”
“I’d have to touch you for that.”
“Fine.”
He looked at her and she nearly exploded from what she saw in those desperate depths. “You’re fucking not ready,” he said, looking down.
“Of course I’m not, I don’t remember crap, but I mean that’s the whole point. Helping me remember.”
He covered his face with both hands and scrubbed it a few seconds. “I don’t know.”
“Well how else am I supposed to remember?”
“Time. Time, that’s all.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
“I don’t have a fucking choice,” he yelled at her.
The burst of anger lit her own. “And how is that my fault?”
“I never said it was,” he yelled again.
“You blame me!”
“I don’t fucking blame you. I blame me! I’m the reason this happened, all of it!”
“Then help me fix it!”
“I can’t play that game with you.”
“What game?”
“You putting yourself in my reach then denying me. I can’t handle it!”
“Fine then I won’t.”
“You can’t help it!”
“Then… make it so I can.”
Silence stretched between them. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“Maybe I don’t, but… I want to remember,” she gasped, fighting her frustration. “I need to. I’m sick of… knowing things and not knowing them, feeling and not understanding what I’m feeling. Please,” she begged.
“I can’t start something if you won’t let me finish it.”
“I give you my word.”
He shook his head. “Your word,” he whispered.
“What?”
He looked at her for many seconds. “You once told me that. And I believed you.”
“Did I disappoint?”
“No, Angel,” he said quietly. “But… you don’t even remember me or even who you are.”
She swallowed down a wave of emotion. “Why did we do a contract then?”
“Because I didn’t trust you. I didn’t know you. I suggested it and you agreed. At the time, I did it just to have you, to play with you. To use you. I didn’t think you really wanted to help me, but I was ready to have fun letting you try.”
She stared at him, swallowing, appreciating his honesty. “Well then, maybe that’s a good idea, we’ll do a contract. I don’t trust you, you don’t trust me, so it works perfectly. We’ll have Bo and Liberty witness it if you want.”
The way he stared at her made her almost wish she’d never come to his room. Almost. “Angel, you got a fucking deal.”
“Good,” she said, ready to vomit right there. “You draw up your conditions, I’ll draw up mine. We’ll exchange them.”
“When?”
“Thirty…” She realized she wanted to finish that journal first. “An hour. And a half.” His brows raised. “Before we chicken out.”
“Not a problem,” he challenged.
“Fine then.” She climbed her way to the floor.
“Take the wheelchair.”
“No, I got it. You need it more than me,” she said lightly, feeling stupid, knowing he was probably staring at her ass.
“See you soon, Angel,” he said as she shut his door and made her way to hers. “Shit, shit, shit,” she whispered, crawling her way back to her bed. She’d done it, hadn’t she? She was in the shit now. She’d felt sorry for him, that’s what she’d done! No, no, it wasn’t just that, she’d also secured a means to learn about who he really was. And who she was in the process. Wow. Maybe some of her old moronic self was coming back.
She quickly got on the bed, pulled his journal out and read the rest. During the final pages, it all crashed in on her, line after line of sadomasochistic nightmare. But the nightmare was all his, not hers. She sucked in his pain and agony until she couldn’t breathe with it. His torment, his sadistic drive, loving the pain while loathing it. His tug of war was so vicious in his mind and body. Did he realize what he’d written? What he’d shown her? He likely didn’t see it as clearly as she did, and
judging by the self-condemnation, he was still blinded to it and by it.
So this was it? What she’d wanted to help him with? Freeing him from that torment? She very much could believe she’d tried. Especially after reading that. But what had hooked her and brought her to that point in his life, was still the big question. Something had to have happened to make her want to help him to begin with.
Her mind replayed the things he’d done. The things she let him do. The things she’d done to him. She gasped and fanned her face. No wonder she was a wreck around him. Her body remembered all that. If only her mind would, so there wasn’t only terror to go with that. If only she could remember the other things that went with those acts. And those acts. It was like reading… bad porn gone wrong, some kind of… triple X-rated, horror story. Dear. Freaking. God. He was right, she shouldn’t have read it.
But she had. She closed her eyes and the images of his sweaty body between her legs, behind her, pressing into her stole her breath. She gasped several times for air suddenly wondering… what did that feel like?
You tasted better than anything I’d ever put my mouth on. I had every part of you. There was nothing that got my cock harder than licking your clit till you shuddered in orgasm and screamed my name, except when I buried it as deep as I could go. That… that was fucking heaven. And seeing that look in your eyes…that love…
Her mind flew to the final words he’d written in his journal, the ones that hit her the hardest.
Baby, I miss you.
She clutched her chest at remembering that part. Why did that hurt? Steal her breath? He missed her and… she… was sure she was angry about it. She didn’t like him missing this other woman she couldn’t remember how to be. Worse, she felt like the evil impersonating twin sister. Yes, she got the amazing guy but what did it matter when you knew deep down it wasn’t you they loved, but somebody else?
Oh God, if she just remembered then it would fix that mess in her head. She wanted to remember. She wanted to remember, yes, that’s what she wanted. She wanted to feel that memory, she wanted to taste what he painted, feel it, not just… try to or imagine. She could never imagine that. She needed to remember, and he needed to help her.
She bolted up in bed realizing. No! No, no, no, she didn’t need to remember it. She needed to live it for the first time. Now.
Chapter Sixteen
Sade sat on his bed, dumbfounded. But only for a moment. Desire kicked in and he hobbled to the kitchenette, looking for that pen he’d seen. Grabbing it off the microwave, he limped to his bed and sat, snatching the tiny notepad from the table that he’d found in a drawer.
Contract. What would he put in this contract? Fifteen minutes later, he was on the last paper with nothing worthy of a contract. Everything he tried to write bound him in ways he didn’t like or limited him in a way he might need.
He finally settled on the only thing he could agree to. And if she couldn’t agree to that, then it was pointless.
Putting the paper between his lips, he grabbed the crutches, headed to her room, and knocked on her door.
“Come in.”
He opened the door and made his way to the bed and gave her the paper. She promptly opened it up, read, and then aimed furrowed brows at him. “You want me to agree to let you do whatever you need to? No specifics? I’m just supposed to sign that? Do you know what that would require of me?”
“Trust?”
She choked with wide eyes. “No, not trust! Would require me to be a brainless moron!”
“So that’s no.”
She stared at him, mouth still ajar then looked down, shaking her head at the paper. “This is preposterous.” She looked right and grabbed her pen on the bed. “You had better not make me regret trusting you, Sade, I mean it.”
His heart hammered as she signed her name on that crooked line below the sloppy one sentence. “Date it.”
She glared up at him then looked back down. “Maybe you can do that.”
“No, you.”
“Well I don’t know what date it is.”
He gave her the date and she grumbled and mumbled as she wrote it then handed him the paper. “Do I get a copy of this?”
“Do you want one?”
“Well yes, I need to file it at the clerk of courts—jeez, no, I don’t really want a copy. Did I not have any sense of humor before?”
Sade’s grin found its way to his lips. “You did.”
She handed him her contract and he took it.
“You mind if I sit?”
She shrugged, hugging the pillow tighter to her body. He knew why she did that. To hide her fear from him.
He opened the paper and read. “Tell you everything.” He glanced at her and she nodded while he read on. His brows raised and he looked at her fully. “You want oone-hour sessions and you get thirty minutes of that? For what?”
She shrugged with wide eyes. “For whatever.”
“I thought this was about me helping you remember?”
“It is, but it’s also about me learning.”
“Learning what?”
“About you.”
He looked down, a strange fear and déjà vu hitting him. He’d been in this same moment before. With her. “Fine. Will the contract be floating?”
“Floating where?”
“Meaning we can both agree to change it if we so choose.”
“Both?”
“Yes.”
“Sounds… fair.”
He could hardly believe he was sitting there negotiating a contract with her for anything. “I get the first half hour.”
She studied him now. “Ladies first.”
Hmm. He was pretty sure that wasn’t a great idea. But… “Okay.”
“What happens during sessions?”
“Whatever we feel needs to.”
“That’s very vague and broad.”
“It is.”
“When will we know what will happen in a session, I mean shouldn’t we be able to prepare?”
“I think that would adversely affect what we’re doing.”
She tapped the pen on her knee. “So shock factor, you’re going with shock the memory back in?”
“I just think you knowing before might set up blocks we don’t want.”
“Ah, but not knowing sets up fears.”
“I’m weighing that into the equation.”
She laid back on her bed. “You’ve given this a lot of thought.”
“Enough, I think.”
“Okay so, one hour a day?”
“Unless we feel more is needed.”
She looked off to the right, biting at the inside of her cheek. “When do we start?”
“Tomorrow night?” He was sure he saw her flinch with that. “You get the first thirty,” he reminded. “I hope you’re merciful.”
“I can’t make any promises,” she said.
He smiled and leaned, taking the pen from her and signing her contract. He handed both back to her and she inspected it, handing it back.
“Date.”
“Ah, sorry.” He dated it and gave it to her then held his hand out. “Shake?”
She eyed his hand like a poisonous viper before shooting her hand out and putting it in his for a quick, barely shake then jerking it back.
But the brief electrical contact was all he needed. “‘Til tomorrow then.”
“What time?” she asked, sounding breathless.
“Nine o’clock?”
“Where?”
“You tell me,” he said. “Ladies first.”
The offer seemed to throw her and she flustered for a few seconds. “The sauna room.”
His dick jerked hard. “Nice.”
“Fully clothed, of course. It’s just private.”
“Of course.”
She pushed hair behind her ear, eyes flitting now. “I’m tired.”
He nodded. “I’ll let you rest. See you then.”
“Sure,” she muttered, looking a little ill as he
got up to go.
He wanted to soothe her, but that would defeat the purpose. He also wanted to kiss her on the cheek but couldn’t allow himself to. Not now. He was too close to breaking. It would already take everything in him to pull off thirty minutes of God only knew without becoming the monster clawing just beneath the surface of his skin.
All that was left was spending all night and all day on what he’d do for their first thirty minutes. Along with what she’d do.
As usual, his sadism was front and center with potential ideas while yet another element slowly circled the circumference of his mind—an unfamiliar predator. It was almost as if it knew to hang back far enough from the alarms. He’d have to be careful. The last thing he needed was some hidden freak-addiction ruining his chances with helping Mercy.
****
Sade bolted up in bed, breathing hard. He blinked the darkness away, listening. Had something woken him? His heart hammering, he limped his way to the door and opened it, listening. He finally heard a grrr…grrr noise on and off then an occasional clonk. He quickly peeked in Bo’s room and found the bed empty. Then he spied the large plant turned over on the floor. Heart racing, he looked in on Mercy and relief flooded him at seeing her in bed.
Sade carefully crept back to his room and got his crutches, then made his way toward the living room where the sound was coming from. Finding the large space empty, he headed toward the kitchen where the grr grring became sporadic. The hell was that? Sounded like something rolling on the floor.
He finally got to the corner of the wall where he could peek into the kitchen unseen. The fridge was open. He looked below the door and saw something that looked like the bottom of an office chair. Sounded like Bo maybe, grunting. The hell was going on?
Sade slowly made his way behind the island so he could sneak up in case there was trouble. When he finally got a visual, he stopped and stared, confused. “The fuck are you doing?”
Bo screeched like a little girl. “Jesus fucking Christ, man! You don’t sneak up on people! I’m getting dessert is what I’m doing, I’m starving, and I wasn’t waking the drunk Iron Horse.”
“What the fuck are you wearing? And riding on?”