“No, kitten. No need to be sorry. I’m the one who’s sorry. I knew better.” His hand eased my face back into his neck and we stood there until the water turned cool and my fingers were all wrinkly.
The air conditioning made me shake as I stood tall and Blake dried me off. Such a caring gesture. Silence remained between us, even when he helped me into the bed and covered me up. That sadness behind his eyes twisted my stomach as he leaned over the bed and traced my lips with his finger.
“I’m going to run into town. You’re not well enough to ride. I want you to lie in bed and rest until I get back.” Fear had my mouth opening automatically. Blake pushed his fingertip against my lips. “I will be back. No need to be afraid, Kaitlyn. I’m just going to take care of some stuff. It won’t take me long.”
The moment he was dressed, he was gone. And with him, my strength. But not for long. I would figure out a way to overcome this dependency, if it was the last thing I did.
Chapter 9
Blake
The scenery blurred as I forced my bike even faster along the two lane highway. Cars were sparse, which I was thankful for. Not that they would have slowed me down. The need to push myself past my own limits plagued me. For the first time, I’d gone too far. Possibly broken the only thing that had given itself to me completely. Kaitlyn had trusted me and I may have destroyed her past the point of no return. I knew she was trying to be strong, but if the damage was done, it didn’t matter how much she wanted to get better. It just simply wouldn’t happen. And it was all my fault. Fuck. What was wrong with me?
The festering within had my hand wanting to pull back to increase the speed even more. I’d hit over a hundred long ago. I was just being stupid, I knew that. But what did I have to lose? Nothing. My life was one escape from death after the next. Someday, I wouldn’t be so lucky, but I didn’t think today was going to be that fateful time.
The edges of town lay in the near distance and I made myself slow, pushing away the internal dread it caused me. A small, level bridge marked the outskirts and one slight turn brought me into the thoroughfare of what I liked to call Cowboy Nation. Old, two story buildings lined the road. Shops rested downstairs, where old abandoned apartments sat above. They were used more for storage space than anything else. A few mom and pop restaurants held space, catering from BBQ to Mexican cuisine, but food wasn’t what I was after. I slowed down as I approached the first light. I’d grab Kaitlyn some clothes, then I had a special stop to make. One that would hopefully shine light on my situation.
Macey Jae’s was a fancy little boutique on the far corner, all nestled with zebra print scarves displayed in the window and pink blouses with matching white skirts resting on mannequins. I groaned. Unless I wanted to go into the city, I was screwed. Macey was about to lay out a million questions and I wasn’t looking forward to it.
The moment the light turned green, I parked my bike around the side. Without thought, I reached for the strap to my helmet, only to remember I wasn’t wearing one. I should have been, but I’d been in such a hurry. The only things I’d grabbed were my sunglasses, cellphone, and keys. It made me angrier to know that I’d been running away. Best not think of that now. For appearance sake, I had to pretend to at least be normal. Relaxed. Not clenching my jaw, wishing to unleash my beast on the first person who I prayed pissed me off. Too many worries were going through my mind and the only thing I could think of was that I’d left Kaitlyn alone. Alone. Was she okay? She couldn’t stand for me to be out of her sight for long, and that was when I was at the house. How was she? Was she crying? Still traumatized by the attacked she’d had? Had— because of me. Because of what I’d done to her. I sighed. The only solace I could take was that she was resting behind the best security system money could buy. At least there was nothing for me to worry about concerning that.
I kicked the stand and let the bike’s weight ease off my leg and rest on its own. I stood and pulled out my phone, hitting Jack’s number. He answered almost immediately.
“Hey, Morgan.”
I smiled. “You’re sounding awake today. I take it I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”
“No, just running some errands, what’s up?”
Damn, I hated always calling with something more for him to do. “Kaitlyn’s being blackmailed. Guy wants a hundred and fifty grand. Can you look up the number and tell me if you can get anything? I plan on searching out the IP address from the email he sent a little later on.”
“Blackmailed?” He paused. “Holy shit. Yeah, sure thing. Let me get my pen.”
While he got quiet, I hit buttons, bringing up the call history. I glared at the number like it was my enemy. Like it was the bastard, himself.
“Okay, ready whenever you are.”
I slowly went through the digits, noticing that I was also pulling at my collar. Being away from Kaitlyn wasn’t working out so well for me. I already felt the need to rush back home. To see the damage I had caused and try to fix it. But, I couldn’t. My answers were hopefully here in town.
“Okay, got it. I’ll be heading to the station a little later. I’ll let you know what I find.”
“Thanks, buddy.” I hung up the phone and shoved it back in my pocket.
The walk into the store was the hardest. I didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to socialize. Truly, I hated people. I made myself interact. But today I wasn’t feeling it.
“Blake Morgan. What are you doing here?” Macey’s voice was thick with a Texas accent. I forced my smile bigger and shoved my hands in my pocket so I wouldn’t make a fist.
“Just picking up some stuff for a friend. How are you today, Mrs. Wilson?”
“Mrs. Wilson, my ass. I’m only a year older than you.”
I laughed. “Okay, then. Macey, how are you?”
Red hair fell over her shoulders in waves and she looked every bit the homecoming queen I remembered. Well, minus the boob job. She didn’t have much back then. I would know. Not that I’d fucked her, but she sure as hell had tried. Thought by taking off her top, I’d be enticed. What I held scared me even back then. I’d pushed her away more out of the fear I felt for hurting her, than by the fact I wasn’t attracted. Had I known I could control myself, I probably would have gone all the way. Not now, though. Not after Kaitlyn. I wasn’t sure anyone would ever be able to hold a candle to what she and I shared last night.
“I could be better.” The statement was left open and I ignored it. Married women weren’t my thing. Women that weren’t Kaitlyn….dammit. She’d ruined me. All I wanted was her. Under me. Begging. Somewhat dying, yet trusting me to allow her to live. Kaitlyn had done that, and so much more. Never once had she given me the impression she was hurting to the point that she apparently was. How had I missed that? Not that I was really so focused on the physical aspect of it anymore. The bruises would heal, as would the marks. But, her mind? No. That’s what I wanted to know about.
“Well?” A thinly shaped eyebrow lifted, accompanied by a slight tinge of annoyance. “Whatcha’ need help with? You looking for something in particular?”
“Everything.” I locked out Kaitlyn temporarily and focused on the racks of clothes around me. “I need a few outfits, dresses, some nice, some for everyday use. Size small. Shoes to go with them. Size 8.” I grabbed a purse, needing something to hold. “This will do. Just…girl stuff. A collection that will last a week…maybe longer.” Fuck. Longer. Yes. I wanted to keep her. Wanted to refuse her if she ever asked to go back. Not that I was sure she would any time soon. Not after today. Could I do it? Take care of Kaitlyn and not touch her while she healed. How long would that take? “Listen, Macey, I have a few things I need to take care of. Just bag everything up and I’ll pick it up on my way out.”
The purse was taken from my hand. “Will do, Mr. Morgan.” She threw a wink at me and I returned it with a smile. It was the best I could do as I raced for the door. The jingling sound disappeared in the distance as I jogged down the road to Dr. Skinner’s. The moment I op
ened the door, the all too familiar smell of lavender invaded my senses. Wood paneling covered the walls and my lips nearly snarled at the memories of the house back in Russia.
“Blake, honey, how are you?” I looked down into Glenda’s round face. Such joy always radiated from my aunt. How was it to be so happy all the time? Must be nice.
“Hey, Aunt Glenda. Is Uncle Bill free? I need to have a word with him.”
As if my timing couldn’t have been any more perfect, an older gentleman walked from the room, my uncle following closely behind. “Now, remember what I said, William. If you have any problems, you give me a call.”
“Will do, Doc.”
My uncle’s gaze lifted to me and narrowed the slightest bit. I knew he’d always felt something was off with me, so I’d done my best to avoid him over the years. But Kaitlyn needed help and he was the only one I knew I could go to that would be honest and upfront.
“Blake.” He walked forward, outstretching his hand. I shook it firmly, but not too much. The last thing I wanted was for him to feel intimidated. And, he would be. Where his office portrayed calm, I was a tornado, ready to destroy everything in my path.
“Hey, Uncle Bill. I was wondering if I could talk to you for a few minutes. It shouldn’t take long.”
The smell of cigar smoke assaulted me as he waved me into his office. He may not have smoked while clients were in the room, but he definitely indulged when he was alone. It didn’t mix right with the lavender and left me pulling at my collar.
Pictures of soothing paintings covered the walls. Most of them had to do with a serene looking river and a man standing in the middle, fishing. The set of four were views of different angles. I tore my gaze from them and scanned the knickknacks sitting on top of the bookshelf. A black lounger rested to the right. Not far from that sat a matching loveseat. I would have taken a seat had I not been so antsy. This room gave me the creeps. Why, I wasn’t sure. Maybe I feared my uncle would see through my façade. Perhaps he already had.
“What can I help you with, Blake?” The height difference between the two of us was startling. I clearly didn’t get his side of the gene pool. Where I was six-foot-three, he was barely five-foot-nine.
I took a step back, putting space between us. The light blue button up shirt and matching grey and blue tie he wore caught my attention. I blinked hard, trying to stop myself from getting distracted by everything. What was I afraid of? I took a deep breath. I knew—that I’d ruined her.
“The last few years I’ve done some undercover work.” Not completely a lie. “I’ve helped rescue women who were kidnapped for the sake of sex trafficking.”
“I’ve known for some time. The realization was refreshed when I saw the news the other morning.” My uncle walked around the desk and sat down, never taking his eyes off of me. “You helped save those girls. But, I noticed you stuck close to the famous one. Saw a clip of the two of you leaving the hospital.”
My eyes lowered. “Right. I forgot about the news.” I met his stare. “Kaitlyn isn’t right in the head, but she refuses to see a therapist like I’ve suggested. She had some sort of breakdown earlier today. A really bad one.”
“Sounds like Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, or PTSD, which is what we in this profession like to call it. Tell me what happened.”
Fuck. I couldn’t do that. Not the entire truth, anyway. “She was watching a show. It showed a clip of a woman tied up. We got into an argument and I suggested that maybe she should go back to California. She doesn’t want to. For some reason she’s…attached to me. Anyway, she went crazy when I mentioned it. She started crying and suddenly, she wouldn’t stop. It got harder and she started screaming things as though she was responding to something someone said. As if…she were still a slave. After a few minutes in the shower, she came back around.”
My uncle nodded his head, slowly. “And she won’t see anyone?”
“No.” I started pacing. “Do you think the show had something to do with it initially? I mean, it was right before the breakdown.”
“Did she seem upset when you saw her watching it, or did she have this episode when you mentioned her going home?”
The dark carpet beneath my shoes kept my attention. I couldn’t look at my uncle. Didn’t want to. “No. She was fine watching the show. At least, to my knowledge. Actually, if I didn’t know better, I’d say she liked it.”
The chair squeaked as Bill stood. “There you go. She’s probably just afraid to face her life. Her future. Were you the one who actually saved her?”
“Yes.” Finally, I looked over at him. “I was the first one she saw.” I had to make things clearer for him. I just couldn’t drop my concerns. “She’s very attached to me. More so than what’s probably healthy for her. That worries me.”
“She needs to find her strength. Become empowered by what she’s been through. To do that, the fear will have to be overcome. Not really sure how that’ll be managed with what she’s gone through.”
I could think of some ways, but I pushed back my dark side while he continued.
“It’s hard to suggest what needs to be done without actually seeing her or knowing her history. Even then, the only things that come to mind are either Operant Conditioning or Systematic Desensitization.”
As he started describing the differences of the two, my mind wouldn’t stop racing. Nothing he was saying was really making sense. I was too worked up.
“You would first have to find the fear hierarchy.” At my eyebrows drawing in, he waved his hand. “Say the patient is afraid of spiders. Now, were you to pull out a picture of a spider, the fear hierarchy would fail in comparison to, say, if you were to bring one into the room. Or even have the patient hold one. Do you understand?”
I nodded. “Yeah. So, are you saying she needs to face her fears?”
Bill slightly shook his head. “Yes, but not like you may think. Time plays a big part. It’s really up to the therapist to judge the patient’s behavior and decide when, in their professional opinion, it’s time to move to the next step.”
“What about the other one you mentioned?”
“Operant Conditioning.” Bill crossed his arms over his chest. “That one’s more behavioral based and could possibly help with her reliance upon you. There are four main methods used for helping to adjust a patient’s behavior—positive and negative reinforcement and positive and negative reward.”
My eyes widened. This, I could do. Before I realized it, I was already walking toward the door. “Thanks, Uncle Bill. You’ve been a great help. I should really be getting back, I’m sure Kaitlyn is going crazy. I’ve already been gone a while. Don’t want to start out with being gone too long. Fear hierarchy and all.”
“But…Blake?”
I waved and rushed out of the door, not forgetting to make the gesture toward my aunt. It didn’t take me but a few minutes to come bursting through the boutique door. Macey jumped as she placed an item in the fancy white and pink bag. As my eyes scanned the counter, I knew there was going to be a problem. Seven bags. How in the hell was I going to get that home? Not on my bike. Shit. I needed a car. After Kaitlyn’s episode, I didn’t trust her not to have another one while we were riding. “Looks like we’re set.”
“She is, that’s for sure.” Macey beamed a smile.
“Can you hold onto it for a while? I just realized there’s something else I needed to take care of. It might take a few hours.” I headed to the counter. “Here. I’ll pay now.”
I pulled out my wallet and handed her my debit card. “You close at five?”
“Yep, you planning on picking it up after then? I can stay here a little late if you need me to.”
I looked down at my watch as she ran the card through. “No, it shouldn’t take me that long. I just wanted to make sure.”
“More shopping?”
My eyes cut up, debating on how much to say. “Just a trade-in.”
She paused in handing me the receipt. “You’re trading in the bike?�
� She glanced toward the door. “Because you can’t get the bags home?”
It sounded ridiculous put like that, but there was more to it. “No. I’m trading it in because my girl needs something safe to ride in. Plus, I’m over it. I can always buy a new one later, if I want.”
“Wow.” Macey handed me the small piece of paper. “You must really like this girl. Bikes are your trademark. You’ve had one since high school.”
“Things change.” I pushed the receipt in my pocket and threw her a smile. “I’ll be back soon.”
And, I would. If they took too long, I’d just buy the fucking car outright. Kaitlyn needed me and I couldn’t deny that I missed being away from her. I took out my cell and dialed the house phone. The moment the machine picked up, I tried to calm my racing heart. “Kaitlyn, it’s me. Pick up the phone.” The machine was in the room. I knew she’d hear it. “Kaitlyn.” My voice grew louder as the pulsing raced even faster. Why wasn’t she answering? Just as I went to hang up, her voice broke through.
“Blake?”
A deep breath left me. “Yeah. I was calling to check on you. How are you doing? You okay?”
“I’m good.” Her response didn’t sound like it. The scratchy tone couldn’t be hidden.
“Listen, I’m going to be gone for another hour or so. Can you hold on that long?”
A laugh left her, but it didn’t sound full of joy. More like a tick done out of nervousness. “I’m a big girl. I’ll be fine.”
“Don’t bullshit me, kitten. Are you going to be okay?”
A sniffle had me closing me eyes.
“Yeah. I’ll be fine. This is good. It really is,” she rushed. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s hard. But I did need to be by myself. I needed to see how I would react once I was alone. Now, I know.”
I straddled the bike, kicking up the stand. As I balanced it, I couldn’t stop the overwhelming need to get home. She’d suddenly sounded stronger and I wasn’t sure how to take that. I knew I wanted her better, but there was still that small part of me that fed from her need. “And what do you know, Kaitlyn? What has it shown you?”
BLAKE: Captive to the Dark Page 11