by C P Harris
“How?
“When?”
“When he fell asleep,” he answered, running his hands down my back and into my underwear to cup me. I clenched, undulating my hips, grinding myself onto his burgeoning erection.
He still wore the lounge pants Damon had on, and I made quick work of tugging them off and shimmying out of the boxer briefs I fell asleep in. I reached for the lube that we kept in the nightstand drawer, and while I opened myself up, I apologized to him in advance for what was to come. “I can’t be gentle. Not because it’s Damon that I want, but because I need some of the control back that I lost today.”
He stroked my hair out of my face. “Don’t ever apologize to me for taking what you need.” Reaching his arms back and holding onto the headboard firmly, his muscular body on display, he said in a hushed tone, “Take me.”
I did. Again and again. Hard, fast, and wild. Until we were both sore, and all I could do was collapse on top of him. He was still inside me when my eyelids lowered.
Chapter Seven
There were so many ways a person could be woken up. A kiss on the lips. A light shake. The smell of coffee. The options were unlimited. Violence, however, did not make my list of ways that I liked to reenter the world of the living.
Damon hauled me out of my sleep by my hair. “You fucked him. You fucking slut!”
The pain in my scalp and the ringing in my ears from the shouting left me unable to catch up quick enough. But I eventually did.
Damon lay beneath me, my head raised off his chest by the fist in my hair.
“How do you know that?” I mentally shook myself. “Put me the fuck down, Damon.”
“Not until you tell me why.”
“Because he’s my husband, you asshole!”
“I’m your husband, you twat. Or did you forget it was me you were standing next to in that courthouse?”
How could I forget. Our marriage was a spontaneous affair that stemmed from jealousy—his and mine. His college roommate wanted him, and Damon swore my roommate wanted me. It had very little to do with love. It quenched our desire to own and be owned in return.
Damon released me suddenly, and I flopped down onto his chest. Sitting up to straddle him, I managed to hold myself back from decking him—barely—when I remembered that hurting him would hurt Blake. “You were gone. Blake has been my husband,” I said, rolling off the bed.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, sitting upright.
“I’m going for a run,” I tossed over my shoulder.
“You can’t even fucking walk. How the hell are you going to run? And from the position we were in when I woke up, I’d say you fucked yourself unconscious.”
Damon followed me into the bathroom, and I’d officially had enough. I wheeled around and hit him. His back met the wall, and pain shot up my wrist. “Fuck you, Damon.” I flexed my hand. “Now leave.”
He righted himself and licked his bloody lip. “Tell me. How did that make you feel?”
With my breathing labored, I couldn’t answer. At least that’s the excuse I gave myself.
“Good, I bet. I’d also bet he never challenges you. That he agrees to your every whim.” He was enjoying himself. “If he’s anything like the Blake I remember, he also lets you top him from the bottom.” He threw a meaningful glance at the bed.
I attempted to hit him again. He dodged and countered, grabbing me by the neck and pinning me to the wall. He pressed his body flush against mine in an effort to ward off further attacks. I went with my only remaining option. I hurt him with words.
“You’re petty, jealous, and scared. But instead of saying that, you resort to being mean. You don’t see that your actions will only push me away. Attacking Blake will get you nowhere, Damon. Look around you. The world kept spinning while you were gone. You’ve got to stop playing offense here. It’s time for change!”
“I want you,” he said, grinding himself into my lower belly.
“Jesus, Damon! I need you to want more than to fuck me.”
“I do want more.” He appeared hurt by my insinuation.
“Tell me,” I snapped.
It took him a while. “I... I want to go to sleep with you every night and... and wake up to you—”
He struggled to continue, and I held my breath.
“I am jealous. He loves you better than I can. It wasn’t an issue when I was the one in charge of spoon-feeding out that love. It was at my will and therefore because of me.” Damon’s gaze began to dart around the bathroom as if searching for something to hold onto. I squeezed tight to his forearms to keep him grounded.
“Go on,” I encouraged.
“Now it’s independent of me. I’m not needed, and it makes me violent.”
His hold on my throat tightened. Elated by his admission, I welcomed the inability to breathe. Then it happened. The glazed look. The shudder of his lids. “No, not yet.” I squeezed him tighter, but he was already gone.
Blake released me, looking at his hands like they somehow betrayed him by touching me in that way. Taking a step back, he touched his top lip gingerly. His stare held many questions. I allowed the back of my head to hit the wall. “Can we please just go back to bed?”
We were at our next appointment with Julie, and I informed her of what happened with Damon. While a tiring ordeal for me and one that left Blake injured, we all agreed that Damon’s admission at the end gave reason for optimism. We also discussed my growing resentment in regard to the part I felt he played in my rape. She confirmed that my bringing it up at that time wouldn't have been a good idea.
“Let’s get him here first. Then we can address the elephant in the room. After we’ve set some ground rules for discussing the topic.”
I glanced over at Blake, only to find him deep in thought. Not surprising. Blake couldn’t handle seeing me in pain. My rape being one of the most painful experiences of my life, it had to feel like reopening a wound every time the point came up. But the air around this subject needed to be cleared.
“Have you had contact with him since that morning, Justin?”
“No. I haven’t gone back to Elite, either.”
“Blake?” she asked.
I nudged him with my knee, shaking him out of his self-absorption.
“Sorry.” He cleared his throat. “What were you saying?”
“Any communication at all with Damon or signs that he may be trying to force a switch?”
“Honestly, at this point he wouldn’t need much force. I haven’t been in fighting form lately. It’s... hard, sometimes. All of this.”
“That’s understandable,” she said.
“I have wondered why he hasn’t, though. It’s not like him to not take advantage of a situation.”
Sensing that Blake wasn’t in any shape to continue, Julie decided to end things early after doling out our assignments. Blake’s job was to fill the prescription for sleep meds she wrote out.
“Take them for the next two nights. Then stop for two nights. I want you both to keep a journal on how those nights on and off the pills went. I’m interested in both your perspectives on this.”
She explained that with his cognitive senses shut down from the medication, Damon wouldn’t be able to initiate a switch. That knowledge was supposed to put Blake in a less anxious state, which would hopefully ease his worry about falling asleep. He’d been napping on and off at best. His fear of Damon taking over at home again occupied his mind all day and caused fitful slumber at night. He could use the rest that the medication offered.
“Let’s see what happens during your two nights off.” Her lips thinned; she had something to say but seemed indecisive about expressing it. “This is just a theory,” she cautioned, “but my belief is that Damon has been observing since that night. At the very least, if he can’t see what’s going on, he can hear it all. If so, then he is, as you say, taking advantage of your weakness by discerning all that he can. This could be good.”
My brain couldn�
�t keep up with all the changes. Her focus shifted from Blake to me.
“Maybe he’s simply trying to determine if he can trust what you’ve told him, Justin, about our goal with therapy. Let’s shut him out for a few days and see how he feels about that,” she said.
“If what you say is true, then he can possibly hear this plan you’re laying out. Shouldn’t we be concerned?” I asked, more than a little alarmed.
“Think about it, Justin. If Damon can hear us now, he’ll either make an appearance, which will be to our benefit because it will prove that my theory is correct, and it also gets him in this room. We want that. Or he’ll appear before the pills are taken, which will again prove my theory, and you’ll be able to give him your ultimatum. Or he can’t see or hear anything, and Blake will have a couple nights of much-needed rest. If, in the two days that he’s off, Damon still doesn’t emerge? Then we move on to plan B.”
I wasn’t sure what to tackle first. The ultimatum I was unaware of or the plan B that I was unaware of. I decided to take a page out of Damon’s handbook and go with simply saying, “Explain.”
“Blake, can you give us a moment alone please?” Julie asked.
Blake hesitated a moment but left the room without questioning her request.
“Just a precaution,” she offered to me in explanation.
“Julie, what’s going on here?”
“Taking sex with Damon off the table was a great first step in setting up boundaries in a normally boundary-less relationship. I’m sure it shook up his arrogance a bit, and whether he admits it or not, this is probably the first time he’s ever considered that he could lose you. In the you-walking-away sense of it. We need to keep that momentum going. My question for you is how far are you willing to go?”
At my puzzled expression, she clarified.
“Have you thought about what you’re going to do if all this doesn’t work out how you want it to? I’m great at what I do, Justin, but I’m no God. There is always a possibility that medical intervention may not produce the results you want. You need to ask yourself if you are willing to stay and deal with a life of such uncertainty, or if you’re going to walk away.”
I heaved myself off the couch and sought out my safe place.
“Justin, I think you deciding to embark on the journey of self-discovery is an amazing idea. As a therapist and a friend, I’m telling you it’s about time. You are more than this, Justin.
There is a whole wonderful world waiting out there for you. When you discover that world, you may come to the conclusion that you don’t have to live your life the way you have been.”
With my back to her, I said, “I love them, Julie. Are you telling me to walk away?”
“No. I’m telling you to open yourself up to everything. Don’t limit yourself or hold yourself back because of your love for them.” Her voice turned loving. “There is a light in you. I noticed it right away. Don’t keep it dimmed because you think doing otherwise would be a betrayal to the men you love. I’m sure Blake would agree.” Her statement was met with my silence. “Look at me, Justin.”
I took a long breath and did as asked.
“It’s been a few weeks since you gave up your position at the OBH.”
I nodded.
“What steps have you taken during this time to expand your life?”
I bit my bottom lip, suddenly interested in my shoes. “None.”
“Why not?”
I rubbed at my brow and admitted, “I’m afraid. Afraid I’ll realize I don’t need them to survive. Afraid I might find out that I do. Afraid I’ll come to find that there is nothing out there for me. Or to find there is everything out there for me. What if I can’t keep my promise to stay?”
“Everything you just said makes perfect sense. I’d be concerned if you weren’t scared. You need to walk in that fear, Justin. You owe it to yourself. It’s okay to put yourself first. You can love, support, and fight this fight side by side with your husband and still make room for you. You can stay. But I’m telling you, you need to start seeing yourself as more than what you are to them. You need to be an example for those men. Show them there is more to life. That there is a whole world of experiences out there that they’re missing out on. That they can have it with you if they fight for it.” She sat up straighter with a determined look on her face. Like a captain sending her soldiers off to war.
“So I ask you again. How far are you willing to go?”
“I'll... do what needs to be done. If leaving is ultimately what I need to do to save us all... I’d do it.” I didn’t know if I could. The fright in the pit of my stomach gave off a free-falling sensation. But I understood what she tried to convey. My life mattered too.
“Okay. Let’s get back to boundaries. Now, while I don’t typically think ultimatums are the best course of action, in this case we need to pull out all the guns, so to speak. The thing about ultimatums is once you issue one, you have to be willing to follow through. Hence why I need to know how far we can take this.” She regarded me, trying to gauge if I could handle the bomb she wanted to drop. In hindsight, I should have stopped her there.
“You need to move out,” she said. In a way that left no room for negotiations.
“What? Why?” I left the window on trembling legs and lowered slowly onto the edge of the couch, holding on to the arm for support.
Julie scooted to the edge of her seat as well. “This serves two purposes. One, it’s a necessary step in your personal journey. You need to be independent of Damon and Blake. The other is it limits Damon’s access to you. He needs to know you are willing to leave if he does not get on board. You have to continue to set boundaries and stick to them.” She spoke like she was rallying the troops. Very direct and succinct.
“But... but we’re married,” I sputtered. “Living apart isn’t normal for married couples.”
“Let’s not get caught up in what society deems as normal and abnormal. We can agree that you’re not living a normal life. Again, Justin, how far are you willing to go?”
I tilted my head and looked at her with my eyes wide open. “What happened to the sweet professional who seemed to follow rules? Is all this even standard procedure?”
She laughed, while I sat confused. “Oh Justin, coloring outside the lines is what’s gotten me to where I am. Please believe me when I say my methods can veer way off from typical. But I won’t steer you wrong. Trust me.”
She slid the tin of cookies over to me, a reminder that she was still the same person. I gave a shaky smile and said, “I do.”
“I know.” She smiled. “So start looking for a place that speaks to the person you wish to be. Do it on your own. Make all the decisions from the curtains to the silverware all on your own.”
“You know... the one thing I made a decision on at the condo was the bed. It’s the one thing Damon hated.”
“Well, I think that’s telling. He liked everything Blake picked. They are more alike than they may think.”
“I suppose. Blake will be hurt if I leave.”
“From what I’ve learned about Blake, I think he’ll understand and support you.”
“Yeah. He will,” I admitted, grudgingly.
“Don’t forget to journal. I’d also like you to do something you’ve never done—aside from finding a place to live.”
“Hey, why do I have three assignments, and Blake only has one?” I heard the frown in my voice. Julie laughed.
Blake didn’t ask about my private conversation with Julie, but I could tell by the lines creasing his forehead when I joined him in the waiting room that knowing would have eased his concerns. I didn’t allow my eyes to linger on him too long, for fear that my expression would give me away.
I kept up mundane conversation the whole drive home, hoping that if I didn’t permit a second of silence to slip between us, he’d think everything was okay and write off what he wasn’t sanctioned to take part of as nothing.
Now home, I’d lost steam, and Blake’s so
mberness turned thick enough to choke on. From the spot I’d been brooding in on the couch, I spoke before I misplaced my nerve. “I’m going to move out—for now,” I sputtered to clarify. “I’m not leaving you. I just... I’ve never really been on my own.” Not wanting to get into details about my discussion with Julie on the off chance that Damon was in fact eavesdropping, I decided not to say more.
With his back to me, working on igniting the burner in the fireplace, Blake said, “Okay.”
“Okay?” The one-word, passionless response stung more than it probably should. “Is that the extent of your thoughts on the situation, Blake? I tell you I’m leaving, and you fucking say ‘Okay.’”
“I thought you weren’t leaving?” He didn’t look at me, didn’t even raise his voice a note, just continued with his task.
“You know what I meant, Blake. Turn around and face me, dammit!”
Looking straight into my eyes, he asked in a detached manner. “Is that a cry for Damon?” Holding his hand up to ward off my rebuttal, he continued. “You’re scared. And you’re looking for me to tell you you’re not going anywhere. I’d even go as far as to say you want me to keep you here by force. By any means necessary, right? You probably also want me to take you right now, right here on this floor, with your dubious consent. Maybe even bind and gag you so no one can hear you scream. Am I close, Justin?”
My mouth hung open, struck speechless as the truth of his accusations reached my ears.
“Take you over my knee―”
“Stop! Please, stop.” The pressure on my chest alarmed me. Like someone had a boot against my breastbone, slowly leaning in. I rubbed at the spot. Blake had never thrown my own truth in my face before. Turned out I couldn’t handle it.
“I’m not saying this to hurt you.” He placed the bottle of ethanol fuel on top of the mantel and came to stand above me, raising my head with a finger under my chin.
“I know.” Because I did. Blake didn’t have a malicious bone in his body. He was simply pointing out my unhealthy coping mechanisms when it came to dealing with my fears. He said exactly what I needed to hear, and he knew it.