Absorbing White

by Charlotte E Hart

  He’s just staring over at the two most beautiful people in the world, one of whom is Roxanne, who is dressed in a long, black, hooded cloak. I can’t quite make out what she’s wearing underneath, but I can see shiny black boots poking out of the bottom. Her hair is up in a knot, severely scraped back against her pale skin, and her make-up is extremely heavy with dark red lips glinting in the candlelit room. There’s not a hint of the angelic creature I saw earlier today, just another version in her place.

  They’re just staring at each other. I wish I had a clue, but nothing is being said so I blow out a breath and just keep my eyes up and focus on Alex. It’s not hard to do. The last time I had any real time with him, he treated me like dirt, then told me he wouldn’t let me go, and yet I’m standing here for him again. I’m still holding on to the hope that this is going to work out okay somehow, that we can make it through this mess and find each other again. He’s still completely breathtaking, so masculine, his frame still owning every inch of the space around him and keeping all my attention on him, just him. My mouth is suddenly drooling at the thought as I glance down at his hands – his utterly wicked hands made for butchery, even more so now, given the content of the room around us. Yet he needs none of these objects to make me feel overwhelmed. Not one of these pieces of equipment holds any sense of fear for me because if they were in his fingers, I’d be willing to take them. For him, for me, for us. My knees buckle a little as I notice a brown whip coiled on the table in front of Roxanne. I remember that feeling, the sharp, intoxicating stings on my back, my thighs, and the lingering dulled ache that followed – the ache that was only taken away from me when I begged him to fuck me, to take me and make me come until all the tension was gone. Oh, I miss that. I didn’t realise how much until this moment, until I’ve been put back in a room and shown all the things he could do to me. My eyes flick to Pascal again. He’s still looking incredibly serious, and he’s waggling his finger by his thigh. Random… Why is he doing that? Is he pointing at the floor? Should I get down there? Alex hasn’t told me to. Pascal closes his fist and then points at the floor again, as if signalling about holding something. His cane. Should I put that on the floor? I gently lower it to the floor until the metallic end taps the ground, which instantly causes Roxanne to spin her head towards me.

  “Give me that,” she snaps. It’s harsh and immediate. I haven’t got a clue what to do, but Alex hasn’t told me to so I think not is probably best. Although the vision of her now swaying towards me can only be described as pure evil as she sneers and stops a foot in front of me. I so want to step backwards, but Alex hasn’t told me to do that either, so I direct my gaze back at him and put a death grip on the cane. “I said give it to me.” Yep, still not giving it to her, no matter how much she’s helped me. The slight lift of Alex’s lips is enough to further my intent to hold onto it like it’s my air. His beautifully darkened eyes draw me towards him as if there’s no one else in the room, just me and him and this connection that holds us together, binds us somehow. It doesn’t matter what he did. It doesn’t even matter what he’s going to do now, because I’m lost in him again. He may be a dominant at the moment, may always be, but to me, he’s also the man I love – the man on the stairs in pain, the small boy in the rain, the man who needs me to breathe. Those eyes keep pulling me in, telling me where I need to be. I can almost feel my skin leaving my body to get to him, tugging at my bones to move me across the space between us and force us together once more. He inclines his head to the side, and somehow, it’s all I need to understand where he wants me. I move around Roxanne and walk straight across to him, cane tapping on the floor along with my heels just as Pascal would. Alex’s eyes leave mine as he inclines his head again, and in milliseconds, I can feel Pascal moving behind me almost in unison. Before I know what’s happened, we’re both standing at his feet, just where a pair of green eyes told me we would be, like it’s our home.

  “Alexander, you’re not having him. I won’t allow it.”

  Okay, that shocked the shit out of me, enough so that my head swings around to look at Pascal, who is still staring at Alex. He doesn’t flinch in the slightest, just smiles slightly and licks his lips. I can only assume she’s talking about Pascal, and I’m not entirely sure how I feel about that. There was love between them. I saw it – him and Roxanne. Why would Alex be asking for Pascal, and why would Pascal want that?

  “Down,” Alex’s velvety voice says. It’s not harsh or demanding this time. It’s a simple request, one almost filled with emotion. It’s also one we both yield to, side by side. Pascal grabs my hand again and places it on his thigh, covering it with his own. I peek up to find Alex still looking at Roxanne, but I can see the smile playing on his lips. No one else can, maybe Pascal, I suppose, but she will only see a hard mask of defiance, a sadist’s face with a blank stare and a look of devastation embedded behind deadened eyes and a murderer’s body. “They’re both mine, Roxanne. You have no choice.”

  “He is both collared and my husband. Pascal, come to me,” she says sternly. He flinches beside me this time, and I feel his hand tighten a little over mine so I squeeze his thigh in response, hoping to relax him. I have no idea of the severity of what’s happening but the fact that one of the scariest people I know is flinching probably doesn’t bode all that well. Is he emotionally struggling or is there a physical threat here I should be aware of? Wow, way to get myself involved in Mafia come war games. Where’s my bag? There’s a knife in my bag. I could defend us all. My eyes glance at Alex’s feet and I almost laugh out loud at myself. A killer, I am not. I have a feeling all three of the other people in here probably are.

  “He won’t move, Roxanne. I haven’t told him to. Your demands are useless now and you know it. So just agree and then we can all leave here unharmed.”

  Unharmed? What the fuck? I didn’t sign up for this. Good lord. There really is an actual threat of danger here. My arse twitches at the thought. I mean, I know I love him, possibly Pascal, too, but come on. No one really owns anyone when they collar them, do they? And marriage is just a piece of paper. It may be an expensive one in Pascal’s case, but it’s still a piece of paper. Do we really need all these dramatics? I could just stand up and tell them that, couldn’t I? Just stand up and protest about whatever this is. Alex takes a step towards me and nonchalantly forces his foot between my knees until my thighs open up. I’m guessing he knew exactly what my thoughts on the matter were. It seems I’m not allowed to move, and I swear I hear Pascal chuckle. The instant quickening of my breath reminds me of my place down here at his feet, ready for whatever he wants. In fact, I’m actually quite horny, which while wonderful is also quite disconcerting given the situation around us.

  “Give me the cane, Elizabeth,” he says as he lowers his butchering hand in front of my face. I hold it up to him and he takes it off me and removes his foot to walk across the room. Pascal flinches again.

  Lord knows what’s about to happen.

  Chapter 10

  Elizabeth

  “Y ou will give me that fucking cane. How dare you waltz in here and believe you have some right over him? You do not, you arrogant son of a bitch. He is mine. You can keep your little pain slut but you’re not having mine,” she screeches like a banshee. I can hear her heels stamping around the floor as if she’s about to erupt in a fit of rage. I haven’t dared turn round, and Pascal’s hand has begun tightening on mine again, so I look over nervously to find him looking down at the floor with an expressionless face. It’s so unlike him, so quiet, so reserved.

  So submissive.

  “You okay?” I whisper to him as she carries on with her tirade behind us. He doesn’t answer or even move, just blinks and continues to stare downward.

  “You disgust me. You will not come into my home and take things from me. It was a game, Alexander. That was all. It isn’t real. He is mine. This has all been a game, you fool. Take your little toy and get out. Pascal, get over here, now.”

  He still doesn
’t move, but his fingers are actually beginning to cut off my blood supply a little now. I flex them in his grip and pull them away to cover his hand with mine as a sudden rush of emotion for him assaults me. I’m even starting to well up with some undiluted sense of fury as I sit here and listen to her scream about ownership of such a man. Who could own a man like him? Who would want to, for God’s sake? He’s free, an explosion of sin, vice and lust, and all things that he wants and needs. Who would want to control that? I certainly wouldn’t.

  “He wants to be with me. The discussion is over,” Alex says. Apparently, Alex does. I still can’t get my head around that, but it’s better than this new bat shit crazy bitch.

  “Over? Over? It will never be over. I will drag him from the room myself if he doesn’t get his scrawny, disease ridden hide over here now. I will tell you one more time, Pascal, before I make you.”

  “You will not touch either of them, Roxanne. That would be very unwise.”

  “Or what, Alexander? Will you beat me? Show the world how out of control you are? Look, they are all watching. Please, by all means let them see your insanity. It will only help someone kill you sooner so I can get on with my own fucking life.”

  “Roxanne, I am trying to do this correctly, but don’t test my patience. I am tired enough and will not need much more to end this incorrectly.” He’s tired? Poor thing, me too. That would be about me, I assume. Well, he fucking deserved it, perhaps not in this moment but there’s a lot of shit he’s got to make up for.

  Heels are suddenly clicking louder against the floor, and I realise she’s heading over here. What the hell do I do now? Pascal doesn’t move, but I flick my eyes round to see her storming over with a rope in her outstretched hand. What the fuck is she going to do with that? Self-preservation kicks in at the same time as my hackles rise and my body swings around to protect Pascal. I have no clue what I’m doing but my gaze is fixed and relentless as I stare her down and shield the man behind me. I’m fucked if she’s hurting him to get her own way. Oh, shit, that may not have been the right thing to do. I flick my eyes to Alex to find him looking at me with no expression at all, just blank eyes and the stance of a primed man, ready to wage war if needed.

  “Get out of my way, you ungrateful little whore,” she snaps while coiling the rope around her fist. Should I speak? I don’t bloody know. I scoot closer to Pascal until my back is pressed to his and continue with my staring. She reaches her talon-like hand towards me and I flinch away from it at first, but then find my feisty Beth again, and before I know it, I’m up on my feet with my hands up for protection. Rage: I can use that. Why Alex isn’t doing anything, I don’t know, but the woman is not hurting Pascal, or taking him anywhere he doesn’t want to go.

  “Get your stupid little thing out of the way, Alexander. She won’t look quite so pretty when I’ve finished with her if this carries on.”

  “Why? This is becoming interesting. It appears she wants him, too. Perhaps now would be a good time to accept what is happening here, Roxanne,” Alex replies with a slightly disturbing chuckle. Chuckles? There is nothing funny going on here. What the hell is he laughing about? I don’t even know why we’re all bothering with this. He could just say it’s over and we could walk out, couldn’t we? She sneers again.

  “You want to fight me for him, whore?” she asks, still fiddling with that rope. Do I? Christ, protecting him is one thing, having an actual fight? I’m not so sure. And why the fuck is Alex still just standing there? Shouldn’t he be doing something? “Poor Elizabeth doesn’t understand, do you?”

  No, I don’t. She takes a step away and undoes her cloak to reveal an unfairly astonishing body encased in black PVC. Another step and she stands tall and arches a perfectly sculpted brow at me.

  “This is the way we’ll have to play, Elizabeth. I’m refusing, and it wouldn’t matter if my slut begged me. I still wouldn’t let him go. Your Alexander can’t fight me. It wouldn’t be fair, would it? So what I will allow is for you to take his place.”

  Holy fuckballs!

  I hope I didn’t let that show. One ounce of weakness is going to be the death of me here, I’m sure. Okay, this is worrying to say the least because she means it. She’s about to go all out to kill me and show me who Pascal’s going home with. Why is she backing up to the wall behind her, all cat like and sleek? Oh shit, she’s grabbed a whip off the wall. We’re fighting with whips? I swing round to the table and grab the coiled one from it. I have no bloody clue what I’m going to do with it but at least she might think I do. I so wish I hadn’t been dragged into this. Yet another thing to have it out with them about when this is over, if I’m alive.

  “He’s worth death. I assume you’re aware of that.” I’m not sure if I’m honest, but I turn round and look at him, still perfectly still, still staring at the floor and not moving an inch. There must be another way around this.

  “Look, it doesn’t have to be this way, Roxanne. Just let him go and then we can all leave. I mean, I know you’ve collared him, and he’s your husband but-”

  The first strike across my calf muscle sends me reeling to the floor in agony. The second hits me straight on the middle of my back as I’m trying to deal with the first, and has me howling in pain. My body screams at me to stay down but the dull throb as it begins to subside reminds me of where I am and who I’m with. Dull echoes of pain start to ride across my skin as I feel that slight delirium begin to creep its way up my spine to create that glorious warming sensation. I see Pascal’s hand reach for me to pull me out of the way and scuttle out of his grasp as he begins to stand and turn toward the room.

  “You stay down there,” I shout at him. He stares back at me for a moment in shock and then drops back down to his knees again, this time facing the room. “That fucking hurt, bitch,” I snap across at her as I right myself again and look over at her. I should probably kick these heels off, but sod it… I shall look fantastic if I’m going to die. Belle would be proud.

  “Just warming up, Elizabeth,” she replies as she starts to circle toward me again. I drop the whip in my hand from its coil and glance across at Alex to find him still the same. I see a slight tilt of his head as he looks me up and down and retreats a step away. Where the hell is he going? I could use this on him if I’m honest. If I knew how the hell to use it, that is. It can’t be that hard. I let the weight of it hang in my hand and swing it around in the hope that I look like I know what I‘m doing. I know I’m going to have to have a crack at it at some point, so without much further thought on the matter, I pull it behind me and then flick it forward as viciously as I can. It goes nowhere near Roxanne but it does leave a rather wonderful cracking sound hanging in the air, and at least shows me I can use it to some degree. She glares back. Apparently I’ve proved a point.

  “Are you ready, Roxanne? We can still do this the easy-” Another stinging lash across my thigh has me raising my arm in retaliation so quickly that I don’t even think about it. And far more by luck than judgement, I hear a shriek in response as I see her hand move to her face.

  “You fucking whore,” she screams at me as she removes her fingers, and I see the red welt on her chin. I smile in response. It feels good to have hit her so effectively, so precisely, even if I didn’t mean to. She doesn’t know that. The dull ache that’s beginning to stretch across my skin only highlights the room around me. My eyes find all sorts of instruments dotted about. Steel, rope, wood – they’re all there for me to play with, be a part of, learn and understand. They’re all new adventures to encounter, and... Alex. I gaze over at him to find a small smile gracing his mouth as he licks his lips and then looks behind me. I spin my head to see Pascal with the same smile, and before I realise what’s happened, my whip lands inches from his side, cracking the floorboards with a loud snap. He doesn’t even flinch, doesn’t move in the slightest. He just looks up at me with that smirk still in place and his eyes boring back into me. ‘Yes, more,’ he seems to say. I’m not even sure what we’re talking abo
ut here, but the three of us seem to being having our own internal conversation, those conversations I used to look at the two of them having and not understand. I’m part of it now. I can feel them both swirling around in my skin, in my mind. I look back at Alex again. He’s still got that lip licking thing going on, a brow now arched as if daring me to challenge him. “Don’t you dare. Only when I say.”

  I can feel a new version of him within me – actually inside of me – telling me what to do without any need for words whatsoever. This is a more explicit connection that has nothing to do with audible language, nothing at all to do with the physicality of words, just a reaction to internal noise, almost the ability to hear thoughts somehow.

  “Fuck you,” she screams again, breaking my moment and causing me to turn toward the threat that appears to be running at me.

  My hands go up into brace position for the onslaught, and just as she’s about to slam into me, my body is flung out of the way. I skid to a stop just as she reaches her new target and begins throwing her hands at his face, scratching viciously and spitting at him until he grasps at her hands and stops her. Her body writhes and twists in his until she suddenly stops and looks straight at him.

  “Leave her alone. Your dispute is not with her, nor Alexander. It is with me,” Pascal says quietly.

  “Get on the floor,” she demands loudly.