Reveal Me

by Sappharia Mayer

  “Sir. You have a call on the Sat phone,” Timothy announces behind him.

  “Tell them I’m on my way,” he calls out to acknowledge the information. His eyes never leave mine.

  I climb the final step. His strong arms engulf me while his lips graze mine.

  “Looks like I need to take care of some business. Go take a shower and get dressed. We’ll curl up and watch the sunset over dinner.”

  My smile dips in disappointment when I realize I will shower alone but returns at the thought of his arms around me as we watch another day end together.

  “And Atlas—” he starts.

  “Yes, Sir.” The words roll off my tongue.

  “Don’t come or the pain will contain no pleasure.” He whispers the words across my skin.

  I shiver in response. My mind screams at his insolence to think he could issue such a command. Ripples of need rip through my body, once again igniting the smoldering inferno. It is my heart which responds to the quiet space he offers in the chaos and understanding of my darkest needs.

  “As you wish, Sir.” A mischievous smile is the only tell of the internal war as I walk past him.

  His hand slaps across my ass as I pass, and I wiggle it in answer but continue to move toward the house. I barely notice anyone as I make my way to the en suite shower.

  With a flick of my wrist, the shower responds. The water is instantly warm. With a quick step out of my cover-up, I step under the water.

  I brace my feet wide apart and rest my hands against the wall. The hot water runs in rivulets down my body from above while the jets work against my shoulders and lower back, trickling down my ass and dripping off my hard nipples. Need spikes through me and his words ring through my mind. An image of his taut, hard body next to mine springs forward unbidden, and I let out a groan.

  I pick up the loofah and work it over across my skin in an attempt to numb the need calling for his touch, trying to focus on anything but the image of his body against mine. Here, alone, I can let my guard down, imagining what it would be like to let him in and feel his protection engulf me. I fantasize about what it would be like to have someone able to help lift my world. I allow myself to take it to the brightest and darkest recess of my emotions and mind. Further than I’ve ever allowed myself to believe is possible.

  My finger brushes against my soaked pussy and I groan. I need a release. My mind wars with my heart over the decision. In resignation, my hand drops away, and my body quivers at its absence.

  The water washes away my last vestiges of control. With an effort, I turn off the shower and wrap the large towel around my body. I let my mind drift as I dress in the bright teal-colored maxi dress laying on the bed.

  My mind wanders to what could be keeping Reece when Timothy arrives with a tray of cucumber mint water and fresh fruit.

  “I thought you might like a light refreshment after your time in the sun.” He sets the tray on the side table and walks out of the room.

  I pick up a glass of water and let its soothing combination work through me. Restless, I pick up the remote beside the tray and flip on the seventy-inch television in the seating area. Flipping through the satellite guide, I choose a Washington DC station. The commercial drones on about the world’s best towel. I smile at the return of some normalcy in my world.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “This is Jon Dause at the EPN Center with breaking news. The Empyrean Club in Washington DC, a well-known sex club, has been evacuated because of a threat posted on the front door of the club. DC’s Metro Police Department is on the scene investigating now. EPN’s Janet Smith joins me now, on location outside the club gates. Janet, what’s happening there right now?”

  My head spins toward the television as a picture of the club comes into view from a helicopter’s angle. Police tape wraps its way around the expansive front and semi-circular driveway. Outside the gates, a large crowd gathers and intermingles with the crush of news vans.

  “John, I’m standing outside the gates of the infamous Empyrean Club. We’ve been here since close to nine o’clock Eastern Time this morning, and from what we understand, a threat was posted on the club’s front door.”

  I step toward the television. My mind erupts in fear, anger, and helplessness as I watch the images play across the large screen.

  “Details remain sketchy, but an anonymous tip came into our studio shortly after the police arrived on scene. The following short clip gives us the only details of the situation.”

  A large blood-covered knife sticks out of the enormous front door. A thousand memories flood my brain. Under the knife, a piece of paper flutters in the breeze. The camera blurs on the paper in an attempt to focus. When it comes into view, the paper blows against the door. The words work to penetrate the defenses in my mind.

  “If I can’t have you, then I will destroy you.”

  A scream rips from my throat.

  The glass in my hand shatters against the floor as my body shakes uncontrollably.

  Splinters of glass create shimmering puddles of fragments around my bare feet as I stare at the television.

  “No matter your feelings about the club, this threat is horrifying,” the newscaster continues but is drowned out by the rumble of footfalls that fill the house. I turn toward the first person through the door. A satellite phone is next to Reece’s ear as his head swivels between me and the images flashing across the television screen.

  My knees buckle. The phone flies across the room. Strong arms engulf me as they sweep behind my knees before I make it to the floor.

  “Turn that damn television off!” he roars to the next body entering the room as he sets me on the bed.

  Tears stream in rivers down my face. A weight sits heavy in my chest. Panic claws up my throat. Reece pulls me into his lap and picks up the phone. His hand smooths across my hair.

  “Yes. Someone in this house failed to disconnect the television in her room,” he growls into the phone. The rumble in his chest is loud against my ear. “Samantha?… Good. Call Ian and Jillian; they may be able to give some insight… Yes… I know.”

  Sobs wrack my body but sound refuses release. The world around me spins as it erupts in chaos. Reece’s hand never leaves me.

  “Dominick?” The question hangs in the air. “Then FIND him! This is your wheelhouse, Kade. It’s time we find this bastard and clean up this mess… Keep me informed.”

  Reece mumbles a curse under his breath and pulls me up against his chest.

  “It will be okay,” he murmurs against my hair.

  I shake my head. His words clash against the obvious reality. I want to scream that it will never be okay. Everything in me wants to throw things and rage at the universe, but my body refuses my demands.

  “This will sting, Atlas, but it's for the best.” He clamps down on my arm. The strong smell of alcohol wafts through the air right before the needle slams home in my arm. I try to pull away, but his grip is too strong and the effects of the drug are immediate.

  All my muscles slacken. Darkness creeps on the edge of my vision.

  “Don’t. This isn’t fair.” I mumble the words.

  “It has nothing to do with fair, Atlas. I protect what is mine.” The darkness swallows his words as my world fades away.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Outside my window the weather refuses to cooperate. The sea undulates calmly against my every demand for a storm to swell and release my agony.

  Instead, the brightest of days casts few shadows from a cloudless sky. Without thought, I raise the glass to my lips. The dark liquid pours across them, engulfing my tongue with a bittersweet finish as it runs in a stream down my throat. It does little for the mood or my rising temper, only adding to the melancholy consuming me in ways I no longer try to explain to myself or anyone else. All attempts for those around me to reach me fail because I want them to.

  Across the room, the hard click of leather soles on the hardwood floors alerts me to his presence. Even then I do not raise
my head; instead I push further inside and take another long drink. His masculine smell surrounds me. Everything in me screams to let down my guard, but I only raise it higher in personal defiance, knowing he owns the keys to my soul if he uses them. If he can find the lock to the walls.

  His fingers caress a light trail down my face. For a moment I let my eyes shut, the movement carrying me away from the darkness. Memories of a softer time when I wanted to give in to his demands, a time when the world didn't create the constant lashing of my soul. His thumb reaches my chin, and I pull from his grasp.

  "How many days since you found out about the club?" His soft tone pushes the words toward me as if to gauge my reaction.

  "Fifteen." I spit the words from my mouth. “Fifteen days since the world found out that I’m an idiot.”

  "How do you know the count?”

  I debate the answer. Silence hangs in the air, but neither of us move to soften the tension.

  With a deep sigh, I finally relent. "Because I mark each one on a makeshift calendar." I shrug to prove it doesn't bother me. "The days all run into one another like an oozing mass with no separation otherwise.”

  "Don't you think it is been enough time?"

  "Define enough. Enough time that you want to walk out the door because it's no longer easy? Enough because I should suddenly put all this behind me? Enough because the world has gone stark raving mad without me? Enough because..." Anger pours from me, but the emotion isn't the reason I stare out the window. It is another tactic to push him away. With this latest threat, it is obvious anyone close to me is in danger, and I will not have any more blood on my hands.

  "The definition of enough, when I originally walked in here, was the impatient cessation of a non-desired set of behaviors, thoughts and speech patterns. However, it is now more of a change to the question—do you believe you've gone down this path to the point in which you wish to change the direction for a more productive one?"

  I sit stock still. Nothing in me, outside the shallow rise and fall of my chest, moves in any meaningful way. His words hit a nerve. I want to scream, but all of my emotions short circuit.

  "I have no idea how to do it. I'm lost." The words pass my lips without thought. As soon as I hear them around us, I want to take them back.

  His fingers cup my chin and pull my face around until my only choices are to look at him or close my eyes away from him. From the edge of my eye, a tear escapes. I want to banish it with the full brunt of my anger and the back of my hand, but the look in his eye holds me captive.

  "You aren't lost, my dear.”

  "Then I am weak. An intolerable condition to be sure." My words whip back at him.

  A soft chuckle rises from his chest, and he closes his eyes and shakes his head. When he settles again, his piercing stare holds me hard in place. "There is nothing weak about you."

  "Look at me!" I know I look a mess. “The thoughts in my head run like hamsters on a wheel, and my social skills are nonexistent.”

  "I am. Amid everything, you are the strongest, most beautiful woman I know."

  I try to shake my head, but his fingers tighten their grasp. "Flattery will get you nowhere."

  "It's not flattery, I assure you. When is the last time you exercised?"

  The out-of-place question causes my eyebrows to furl in both thought and realization. "I... I... I don't know."

  "I see." His fingers let go of my chin. "We are still in a power-based dynamic?"

  "I presume so." The reality of the question dawns across the deep, thick mud entrapping my mind.

  "As such, you and I are bound by a contractual arrangement. Under said agreement, you are to maintain a fitness regimen and to take care of your body, mind and emotions."

  "Have you paid attention to the recent destruction of my life?"

  "I witnessed, and fell victim, to some very large missteps of yours. These are true statements. Yet here we are."

  "Yes. Here we are. Unless you want out, which I would perfectly understand."

  "Do you wish to abide by your contract or end the relationship? One is an easier road than the other, though it may not be the one you think.”

  The turn of my statement back on me abrades my raw emotions. Nothing in me is ready for this question. Simplistic, as if it were a wardrobe decision rather than one which could alter both our lives.

  "It's time to be strong or to wallow in the darkness which surrounds you, Atlas. What say you?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  I close my eyes and try to take a deep, cleansing breath to stave off the panic. Sharp stabs of dread and fear grab my chest, and the simple act of inhaling takes more strength than necessary.

  "You're safe, Atlas. I’m here."

  With an effort, I crack one eye open and stare into his eyes. There is a mixture of concern and hope. The unexpected softness holds me captive, and I do my best to focus on him.

  "I'm fine." The words pass across my lips in an odd mixture of relief and defense. It is my standard reply. It signals my lack of desire to discuss uncomfortable internal issues. No matter how bad things are, they are always fine.

  His eyes narrow at my flippant response. Displeasure clouds his features.

  "Feeling Insecure, Neurotic, and Emotional. I'd agree with that answer."

  My body shakes under his stare. The self-reliant, independent woman inside screams she doesn't need him or anyone else, but the vulnerable part wants nothing more than to run to him for protection. A thousand feelings rage through me. I feel caught. He knows I'm fighting back a wave of rising panic. For weeks I've battled the attacks alone.

  "Breathe through it." His voice is soft.

  With an effort, I work to catch my breath. When I find a semblance of center, I take another sip of wine.

  "How often do those occur?"

  "I don't keep track." I stare into my glass, refusing to meet his eyes.

  From the corner of my eye I see him nod slightly.

  "I've lost my place in your world. In your darkest moment, I did not provide you what you needed. I have to earn your trust and my place back. To do it, I have to start with your mind. Lead you out of this oppressive darkness. Show you I can keep you safe. I can only apologize for failing you. I thought you needed space to deal with all the things in your world. Sorry will never be enough for allowing you to believe I abandoned you. I've been right here all along."

  I let out a breath in a deep sigh. His words bite to my core. Without thought, my shoulders curl forward to protect me from an invisible harm imagined in my mind.

  "I'm sorry you feel alone amid this raging storm in your life."

  His words bring a cacophony of emotions. They tumble through me. Trepidation, regret, sorrow, anticipation, hope, and fear—all weave through his words.

  With a shrug, I continue to stare into my glass. "It's fine."

  Beside me his body tenses. "Eyes on me."

  In reaction to his words, my eyes lift and stare into his.

  "Until we dissolve this relationship, I demand complete honesty. Your lack of openness helped pave the way to this point. From here on, it will be the most important rule between us. I will require you to meet this without question. That which yields is not always weak, neither does failure prove weakness. It is when we do not make the necessary adjustments that causes the problem. If you think you can meet this requirement going forward, then reply with a more honest answer."

  The unexpected response charges straight through me. Like a life ring thrown into the stormy sea, I allow his words to wash over me. For a moment, the emotional guard I've so long held drops and hope seeps into the darkness. I am scared, needy and wounded. All I long to do is to find peace even if it is at his feet. A place where I felt safe, no matter what he demanded.

  With an effort, the words whisper out. "I can accept your terms."

  "Own the words. Say them with confidence and conviction. You are a strong woman and words are far too easily wasted."

  Anger flashes through
me and on its heels, a wave of relief. Maybe he could hold up my world, if only for a moment. With more confidence, I push the words forward again.

  "I can accept your terms, Sir."

  "Much better. There's hope you will return to me yet, rather than this colorless being who sit before me."

  I glare at him.

  "There is still fire in you. Good. You have no business kneeling at my feet or standing at my side if you aren't strong enough to know your own mind. You know this."

  I tremble under the weight of his words, letting a long silence linger between us.

  “It's not fine, Reece." The words come out in a painful rush. “When our world blew apart, you added to it. I didn’t make the scandal, but I also didn’t get the chance to tell you how it hurt me too. You emotionally left me when I needed you the most. Stormed into my office and laid everything at my feet. When everything became hard, you walked away.”

  For a long time he holds my gaze. “As did you.”

  The smack of his words rushes through me. I think of Kade and Samantha dealing with the club and try to push down the helpless feeling.

  "I admit, when Kade called from Dominick’s, I hesitated," Reece said. “You are so strong, I believed my help would be a hinderance. From all appearances, you had it all together until you didn’t. Then you were gone. You didn’t let anyone into what was happening.”

  “My name means a lifter of worlds, yet I failed.”

  “Not even the mythical god could do it alone. You two have something in common; you both needed help. He tried to trick others to do it for him. Your pride makes you fall because you refuse to allow others to help.”

  He lets the words hang in the silence.