by Bea Paige
“Look at me, Ivan,” I say.
He turns his gaze back to me. Everything in him tenses. This is taking his trust to a whole new level. I might have seen the scars of his guilt, the marks of his rage. I may have witnessed Ivan draw a knife across his skin and bleed for the wife he hurt. I might have seen into the darkest parts of him and survived it.
But Anton?
I know he’s aware of what Ivan did behind the closed door of the studio with the women he fucked there, but he hasn’t seen the physical scars left behind from every encounter. He’s not laid eyes on the pain, the rage, the grief that scored those deep wounds in Ivan’s skin. His pain is still very evident despite the fact that he hasn’t cut himself since being with me.
“Ivan, brother,” Anton’s voice cracks. He sways on his feet.
Ivan flinches, taking a step forward away from Anton’s sympathy. He struggles against the bonds, but he still doesn’t utter his safe word. He still trusts me implicitly despite the rawness of this moment. I cup Ivan’s face willing him to see this through. Willing him to understand what I’m trying to do for him, for Anton.
This is about staring into the face of the darkest parts of a person and accepting them for what they are. This is about courage and faith. This is about brotherhood, a bond stronger than blood. This is about love, theirs for each other. But more than that, this is about trust. Ivan needs to trust Anton, it’s the only way he’ll leave me alone with him.
“What do you see, Anton?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Tears glisten on the edge of Ivan’s lashes. He doesn’t remove his gaze from mine whilst behind him Anton tells us what he sees.
“I see agonising pain. I see aggression. I see self-preservation and self-loathing. I see anger and violence…” Anton’s voice trails off as understanding begins to dawn.
“Untie him,” I order, not taking my eyes off Ivan.
I see the panic flare in Ivan’s eyes. His mouth parts, a strange noise releasing from his lips. For a moment I think he’s going to use his safe word. But he clamps his mouth shut and nods imperceptibly.
Anton does as I ask, and Ivan’s hands fall to his side. He looks at me with complete trust, waiting for me to command him. I press a searing kiss against his lips, then pull back, stepping away from them both.
“Later today you’re going to Moscow. You’re going to leave us here in the knowledge that Anton is worthy of your trust.”
Ivan grits his jaw, but he doesn’t protest.
“I know you have something you wish to say to Anton before you go. Do it now, and once you have, I want you to show him just what the colour red really, truly, means to you.”
Ivan nods his head once in understanding, then turns on his best friend, reaches up and grabs him by the throat. Anger flares out of him as his fingers tighten around Anton’s throat.
He walks forward, as Anton walks backward, his own fingers pulling at Ivan’s iron grasp. Ivan slams him into the wall. Every part of him is shaking with a rage and anger so deep it’s electrifying. The room sparks with it.
“You told me you thought Rose was the one, the one who could help you, but I know she is because she’s already done so much more than help me. This woman is mine as much as she is yours. You do anything, anything to hurt Rose, I will kill you. I will tear you apart with my own hands. I fucking love you brother, but I will not allow you to destroy Rose like you did Amber. I will not.”
Anton’s fingers drop away from Ivan’s hold, he doesn’t fight back and is rewarded with the ability to draw in breath as Ivan’s vice-like grip lessens.
“Red might be just a colour to you, something to fill a blank canvas, but to me it’s everything. Red is the blood that blooms on a stark white dress, the same blood that poured from Svetlana’s wrists when she took her own life. Red is the dying beats of a heart turning black in my chest as I watched the life leave her eyes. Red is the rage and despair of a man who despised himself. It’s the blooming of lust on a nameless woman’s skin and the slash of her pussy glistening with need. It’s the length of silk that binds my arms and gives me peace. It’s the deep wound of a knife parting my skin. It’s the harbinger of death, but also of life. Red is the fear that I’m going to lose one brother to drugs and the other to his own nightmares…”
I watch as Ivan lets go of Anton. They stare at one another, the air thick with unspoken words of love. I feel it wash over me, their love for each other, and just for a second, I allow myself to bask in it.
My demon snarls with anger reminding me that love has only ever betrayed me. Roman’s love took the innocence from a child and moulded it into something dark and destructive. My father’s love destroyed the remains of that child for good and my mother’s love hadn’t protected me from either of the men responsible for blackening my heart.
Love failed me and it’s why I can never allow it in.
Never again. No matter what.
“Brother,” Ivan says, lifting his hand up between them.
Anton grasps it without hesitation. I watch transfixed as Ivan pulls Anton into his hold, grasping the back of his head as he does so. They press their foreheads together, locking eyes.
Despite my resolve to stay aloof, my own shattered heart beats that little bit louder. This feeling, like my heart is being kick-started like a clapped out motorbike ready for its last ride or die journey, this is not what I’d intended.
Fuck this.
I’m about to break them apart, but Ivan begins to speak once more.
“Red is the colour of those marks on your arm. It’s sin and lust. Passion and rage. Red is the courage to accept what once was and to submit to what is. It’s these welts across my skin made by a woman strong enough to inflict them. It’s relief and freedom for me. It’s who I am. It’s my safe place, my safe word… but it’s also so much more. It’s fucking love, Anton. You break her, you break me. Understand?” Ivan snarls, his chest heaving. He releases Anton from his hold and a weird kind of stillness settles in the room.
I see Ivan’s shoulders drop, and the wide-eyed look of shock on Anton’s face. This was a secret Ivan wasn’t supposed to share. This has gone too far.
No.
My heart splutters, my demon thrashes with the new scary wave of emotion I feel.
No. I don’t do love.
I stumble away from it, knowing it has the power to destroy me. Pushing it aside, I dig deep within myself and I reach for the flogger left discarded on the floor. My demon roars to life, tearing up Ivan’s words.
Red is blood, pain and despair. It’s power.
But it isn’t love. It never will be. Not for me.
With that thought I approach Ivan and Anton secure in the knowledge that neither can break me because I’m already far too broken.
Chapter Seventeen
Anton
Instantly, I see the difference in Rose.
She approaches like a predator; regal, beautiful, fucking deadly. Ivan turns to face her. He sees the change as much as I do, and he bows to it.
“Get on your knees,” she demands, the darkness behind her eyes leaching out of her. Ivan falls to his knees on the floor, his head dropping. I see the slight tremble of his hand. He knows he’s revealed too much too soon. She wasn’t ready to hear what he had to say.
My brother loves her. He loves this woman.
Rose. His Domina, our muse.
Something close to envy seeps into my veins.
Even after everything he’s suffered, he still has the capacity to love. That’s something I’ll never be able to feel. I thought I’d made my peace with that fact, until now.
I watch as Rose strokes the leather fronds over her palm. I know her thoughts aren’t filled with hearts and flowers. She’s already revealed her fear of being locked away, yet here’s another one far more telling. She’s afraid of love.
So fucking afraid that she allows the darkness to take over. It saved her once from a poisonous love that destroyed the innocence of her c
hildhood and I see it protect her now.
Love has brought her nothing but despair, pain. It’s why she’s so drawn to the darkness. There’s safety in the hollow void it provides.
She stalks towards us both, squeezing the handle of the flogger until her knuckles turn as white as her lace underwear.
“You too,” she says, and fuck if my knees buckle at the intensity of her demand. I fall to the floor, sickness rising. My body aches. My muscles scream in agony as I finally succumb to the symptoms of withdrawal. Fuck, if ever I needed to be sober it’s now. I dig deep. This isn’t the time to be weak. I need to remain strong for her, for Rose.
And I need to protect my brother from her wrath.
“You dare look at me?!” she snaps.
But I refuse to look away. I keep my eye on the darkness within her. I stare into the face of her demon. This woman here, now. This is the woman that has the capacity to kill.
Ivan has no idea.
“Don’t look at me!” she whispers, her words filled with quiet rage.
“You told me to, Rose, and I’m not about to turn away now. I see you,” I respond, determined not to succumb to the dangerous power oozing from her.
Next to me Ivan stiffens. His fists curl, but he doesn’t look up.
“So be it,” she retorts, discarding me with an angry glare and striding over to Ivan.
Lifting her arm, she strikes him over his left shoulder. He cries out in pain, but he takes it.
“Don’t do this, Rose,” I say, knowing that this time it’s different. This isn’t for Ivan, this is for the darkness that consumes her and the man who ruined her. She’s punishing Ivan for daring to love her.
“Stay out of it!” she retorts.
She strikes him again and again, anger flaring with every lash. He takes every single one. With every strike, the quieter he becomes as he slowly withdraws into himself. How much of this will he take? When will it be enough for her, for him?
“That’s enough,” I shout.
Rose turns to me. “You don’t get to tell me when it’s enough. You don’t have the power to say when it’s enough!”
“No, but Ivan does, and he will let you take your anger out on him because he fucking loves you!”
She responds with a wealth of emotion that slashes across her face, and another lash against Ivan’s skin. She’s so expressive in her pain. It has its own kind of torrid beauty.
Ivan bites down on another cry as I see the angry raised welts forming. When I’d briefly touched the ones on his chest and the scars on his arm earlier, I’d done so like a blind man reading braille. Every mark told me about him, about his story, one I’d not completely understood until the moment my fingers pressed against them.
But these newer ones, these tell a different kind, and it’s no longer Ivan’s. This isn’t a woman setting a man free, this is Rose punishing another man from her past.
This is about her, not him.
“That’s enough, Rose, or so help me!” I say, standing. The threat hangs in the air between us.
“Or what?” she taunts, her eyes burning with fiery rage. Rage at a man she once loved as passionately as Ivan appears to love her. A man who had the power to destroy her so irrevocably, a man who twisted love into something she can’t stand.
Just like my father had.
I snatch the flogger from her hands throwing it to the side, her mouth pops open in shock before she lunges for it, but I’m too quick. I grab her around the waist pulling her back roughly against my chest.
“No more. You’re done. Calm the fuck down,” I growl, wrapping my arms around her body. I honestly don’t know where I get the strength from. Somewhere in the back of my mind a worried voice tells me I’m going to suffer for this, more than just physically.
“The fuck I am. We’re only done when I say we’re done!” she shouts, her lips pulling back over her teeth in a feral snarl.
“Enough!” I snap, biting down on her bare shoulder.
She stills in my arms. The shock of my teeth clamped onto her skin is enough to stop her from struggling. Her chest heaves as she looks into the chasm of her past and rages against it with every part of her being. Her anger is a by-product of those memories. Like acid in her veins, it burns her from the inside out.
Ivan, realising that something dramatic has changed, stands. Out of the corner of my eye I see him approach and I wince at the lashes he’s taken, both welcomed and endured.
“Rose. You have nothing to fear. I expect nothing from you, nothing. Do you hear me?” he says, dropping to his knees before her.
I still have my arms wrapped around her waist, still afraid she will lash out at him the moment I let her go.
“I will take your punishment, every fucking time. I will take it if it eases your grief. I’m strong enough to endure it. I’m strong enough to endure anything you throw at me, Rose. I will take all of it because I can. You saved me from myself and I will forever be in your debt. But you owe me nothing. I expect nothing.”
Ivan looks past Rose and directly at me. “Anton, let her go. It’s alright.”
“Brother…?”
“Let. Her. Go.” he orders.
I nod my head, removing my arms from around her waist. Rose wobbles, her knees buckling. Ivan reaches up to steady her, his large hands grasping her hips. She grips onto his shoulders, her nails digging in.
“Ivan, I’m…” she grinds out. I see her battling against her need to strike him again, but at least a semblance of control has returned.
“I know the rules, Rose. I didn’t use my safe word because I can endure. I will endure. I want to.”
“Ivan…” Her shoulders sag with regret as a long breath releases from her mouth. She looks down at his upturned face and I watch as she struggles with herself. I’m unable to take my eyes off her and the changing shades of emotions that cast her face in shadow.
“Fuck me, please,” she whimpers finally, her legs giving way.
My throat constricts. Another woman I destroyed said those very words to me, except when I did what she asked, I broke her. Swallowing my own regret, I back away not wanting to witness Ivan giving her what I was incapable of giving Amber… the ability to soothe hurt with love.
Clutching Rose to his chest, Ivan gets up and strides over to his bed laying her down gently. He presses a kiss against her cheek, running a finger over the spot where I bit her.
“I’ll go,” I murmur, backing towards the door on legs that are having trouble keeping me upright.
“No! No, you’ll stay. You need to understand what red means to me,” Ivan mutters.
“Ivan…” I begin. I already know. I see. It’s written across your bare skin. Every fucking lash, every welt shows me exactly what it means to you.
But the words won’t come.
“Stay,” Rose whispers, then turns her face to Ivan and draws him down for a kiss. It’s in that moment I realise what she’s about to sacrifice for me.
My back hits the wall and I slide to the floor knowing that I’m going to observe something precious, something that has more power to destroy Rose than being locked up in a room. I want to tell Ivan to stop, that he’s going to break her for good, but the selfish part of me wants to understand. I want to file away this piece of Rose and use it in my art. Even if that means she doesn’t survive enough to appreciate it.
So instead of saving them from more heartache, I remain quiet, my gaze transfixed on them both. Ivan pulls back, his forearms tenting her head.
“Tell me what you want, Domina,” he asks.
“Not Domina. Rose. Right now, I’m Rose. Can you bear that?” she responds, her voice eerily quiet.
“I will bear all and everything you see fit to dish out. It doesn’t matter which part of you it comes from, only that it comes from you.”
“I can’t give you what you need, Ivan,” she warns.
“You’ve already given me that,” he says, brushing his lips against her cheek.
“Then I ca
n’t give you what you want.”
He cups her face and rests his forehead against hers. “I’ll take anything. Even the darkness, Rose.”
“It’ll only hurt more this way.”
“But at least I’ll know I’m alive.”
“You’ve suffered enough,” she retorts.
“Suffering is my speciality.”
He laughs lightly and the smile he gives her is enough to send my soul free falling into the pits of Hell for the shameless way I treated Amber. I fucked her without thought or care. I took her love and twisted it into something ugly, something destructive.
“You do this, there’s no turning back,” Rose warns.
“I know that,” he murmurs against her lips.
But does he? Does he really understand what she’s trying to say? Because I’m certain he doesn’t. To them both, red means so many things, some the same, some different but overwhelmingly it means love and love has the capacity to destroy no matter how you look at it. It’s why Ivan cut himself to purge his guilt for the woman he loved but hurt anyway. It’s why Rose allowed a man to ruin her when she was just a child and it’s why Amber let me fuck her even when she knew my heart was empty.
“Wait,” I say, but it comes out no more than a whisper. I try to push up from the floor, but my legs are heavy, unmoving. “Stop,” I say louder this time. Firmer.
But Ivan doesn’t stop, he takes Rose’s chin in his hand and stares into her eyes. Without uttering another word, he pulls her knickers aside and enters her with one quick thrust. He moves within her, keeping his eyes fixed solely on her. She stares back, not uttering a sound. He doesn’t quicken his pace but moves with a gentleness I never thought him capable of. He worships her without understanding that this may just be the beginning of the end for them. He’s loving her with every single part of his soul without knowing she is closing herself off from him despite it. With every thrust she locks away another piece of herself, but he continues anyway believing that his love is enough.