Rescuing Regina

by Lee Savino

  “Yes.”

  “Goddammit, Cole!”

  “Regina,” his voice crackled with authority. “Relax. I called and asked for a day nurse to come. Your mother is up and fine. The new nurse is Matthew. She calls him Peter, but the nurse told me that’s normal.”

  “Peter is her brother. He’s been dead twenty years.”

  “Well, she’s having a good conversation with him. Now come sit. We have things to talk about.”

  I crept to the table, keeping my eyes on Cole. He looked rested and handsome, not a hair out of place.

  Bastard.

  I felt like my eye sockets were filled with cotton. I told Cole this when he asked how I was doing.

  “How’s your rear end?” he asked. “Sore?”

  “No.”

  “Bruises?”

  “No. Was that your goal? To bruise my butt?”

  He raised a brow at my tone. “If it’ll teach you not to get in the car with Benny again.”

  My turn to raise a brow. “You really don’t like him.”

  “If you knew what I knew, you wouldn’t either.”

  “I don’t need to know anything more to dislike him. Not like Donnie DeMarco,” I mentioned my long ago ex-boyfriend, who I was pretty sure now worked for the mob.

  Sure enough, Cole glowered.

  “Never mind.” I took a sip of coffee, and kept my eyes on the table. “We need to talk.”

  “We do. How much do you remember from last night?”

  “All of it. You know everything I’ve done. You caught me doing most of it, and the rest Mr. Roberts told you.”

  “So that’s it?” His gaze was hard.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, then you have two options.” He set the coffee cup down. “One is I take you down to the station, charge you. I’ll ask Mr. Roberts to press charges, and he will. You’d be wise to plead guilty. The judge would sentence you. You might get some jail time. Your mom will go to a nursing home—”

  “What’s the second option?” I interrupted.

  He fixed me with a stern look and continued. “The second option is unique, but you won’t like it any more. There’s no jail time, no reporting the crime. Mr. Roberts trusts me to handle it, and I said I’d do my best. It’s up to you, though.”

  I wanted to know what option two entailed, but couldn’t help asking, “Why would he do that? Why would he tell you everything and ask you for help?”

  “Because he knows I care about you. When you got back from college, I checked in on you from time to time.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes. I would’ve gone to you directly, but ever since the rock incident, I knew you weren’t speaking to me.”

  “The rock incident?” I asked, startled. Then I remembered. “Oh yeah.” When I was fourteen, and hanging with a crowd slightly older, some people thought it would be cool to sit at an overpass and throw rocks at cop cars. I wasn’t involved, until I heard that Cole had caught some of them, but the only kid who got in trouble was the one who lived in the trailer park. I’d been reading Malcolm X, and went and screamed at Cole for discrimination.

  “I called you a racist.”

  “It was unfortunate that the only kid I caught with a rock in his hand was Winston. And that the driver only accused him of throwing rocks, and not the white kids.”

  “You made an example of him. I didn’t think it was fair.”

  “It wasn’t fair,” Cole said, surprising me. “I wanted to charge all of them as delinquents. The sergeant wouldn’t let me. I decided that day to become sheriff.”

  I blinked in surprise.

  “But Winston did okay,” Cole continued. “The group home was better than his family home.”

  “Yeah,” I said, thinking of how glad I would’ve been to escape my home when I was fourteen.

  “But you weren’t speaking to me.”

  “I thought you were one of them.”

  “One of who?”

  “One of the people who think anyone who lives in a trailer park is trash.”

  “I never thought that, Regina.”

  “Your parents did.”

  “That’s why I never told them the real reason I volunteered at the day camp.”

  My eyes widened at the insight. In addition to his brief stint as a camp counselor, Cole had worked as a lifeguard at the lake where I spent summers in a state run outdoor activity program. He’d never gotten close, but I’d spent many a summer playing under his watchful eye.

  It hit me then that Cole had always looked out for me, even when I gave him hell.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I was rude to you a lot. You must have wanted to spank me for a long time.”

  His eyes darkened. “You have no idea.”

  I shivered again. It was becoming a habit around Cole. Like my body knew there was something more going on under the surface. We’d known each other so long, and always shared a connection. It was deeper, more visceral, somehow, now that we’d grown up. But our relationship was comfortable, familiar. Deep down, I’d always known that Cole was on my side.

  “Well, then, what do you want me to do? Community service?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Just spit it out, Cole.” I crossed my arms in front of my chest, and his look grew even more stormy.

  “Come here, Regina.”

  “Why?”

  “Do as I say.”

  I stood, and took leaden steps until I stood between his legs.

  “Good girl. Was that so hard?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re going to have to get used to it. This is option two.”

  “Option two is you ordering me to get between your legs? Because I could be good with that.”

  “Regina.”

  “Sorry. I guess I don’t get it.”

  “I want you to submit to me.”

  The tingles spread through my body again at the intense heat in Cole’s eyes. I kept my face neutral. “Oh, is that all?”

  “Option number two is you submit to my discipline. All day, every day. I’ll tell you what to do, and you obey, no questions asked. Not only that, I’m going to control everything. Your schedule, what you wear. There are some orders I’ll give you that will be general, like instructing you to eat three healthy meals a day, and others will be more specific. But if you choose option two, you’ll follow them all.”

  I opened my mouth. Closed it. I’d known Cole was a control freak, but this gave it a whole new meaning.

  “We’ll communicate. You’ll get to express yourself. I want you to be honest with me. And I have nothing but your highest good in mind. You can trust me.”

  I still didn’t know what to say. “You want to tell me what to do? Don’t you already do that?”

  A hint of a smile. “I want you to obey me.”

  “You want me to obey you,” I repeated slowly. Unaccountably, my pussy moistened.

  “You will be accountable to me. I will keep you in line, and if you step out of line…”

  “You’ll spank me.”

  “Among other forms of discipline, yes.”

  I stared at him, waiting for him to crack a smile and tell me it was all a joke. But who was I kidding? This was Cole. He didn’t joke.

  “You really mean this.”

  “I’ve never been more sincere about anything in my life.”

  “What if you tell me to do something crazy, like jump off a bridge or something?”

  “Regina, you know me. Would I ever allow you to do something that brings you harm?”

  He had a point.

  “Your current life choices haven’t been positive. So, I’ll be making them for you.”

  “For how long?”

  “As long as I deem necessary.”

  “So…option one is prison, and option two is you control my life so it feels like I’m in prison.”

  “You may enjoy some parts of it more than prison. Some parts less. All’s it will cost you is your pride.”


  I scowled. “I like my pride. It’s all I have left.”

  “And look where it got you. I said I was going to help you. This is how.”

  “So you’re going to mold me into the perfect citizen. Using the carrot and the stick method.”

  “Mostly the stick. Unless you’re a very, very good girl.”

  I ignored the tingles spreading through me. “I’ve read about this,” I said. “What’s my safeword…prison?”

  “It can be.”

  I stared. “Shit. You really are a sadist.”

  “I have never once spanked a woman before last night. Not even by her request.” He grinned, startling me. “I never would’ve guessed you’d respond so well.”

  I squirmed and his grin darkened a shade.

  I exhaled. “Okay. So I do what you say, and I don’t have to go to jail?”

  “It’s not going to be easy, Regina. I have high standards, and I expect you to follow the rules. Or you’ll be punished.”

  “Are you trying to talk me out of this?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, it won’t work. I’ll do exactly what you say, when you say it.”

  His eyes glittered. “Good.” He leaned back. “Take the coffee cups, wash them, and put them in the dishwasher.”

  I hesitated. His eyebrow went up.

  This was a test. He thought I’d balk? I’d call his bluff.

  I started to obey, but couldn’t keep from grumbling. “You have a dishwasher, I don’t understand why I have to rinse them first.”

  Cole’s heat hit my back as he crowded me to the counter.

  “Lesson one,” he breathed into my ear, and every nerve in my body got a thrill. “You do as ordered, without complaining.”

  “But I’m so good at it,” I complained. “Snark is my life. I eat sarcasm for breakfast.”

  “I know.” His body pressed against mine, forcing me to lean over the sink. “Put your hands on the counter.”

  I did, gripping the edge of the sink so he wouldn’t see how they shook with excitement.

  “You’re going to learn to behave, if I have to beat it into you.” He used his feet to urge mine apart.

  “You’re spanking me because I whined?”

  “No.” His whisper tickled my ear. “I’m spanking you because I can.” He pulled my hips back and folded my nightshirt up.

  “Push your bottom out. I want a good target.” I did, now as excited as he sounded. My pussy was liable to drip on the floor.

  A giddy feeling swept through me. “Point your toes in. You won’t be able to clench your bottom.”

  “Does that make it hurt more?” I asked. Trust Cole to study this sort of thing.

  The first blow rocked me forward onto my hands. I sucked in a breath. That hurt more than the last two spankings he’d given me.

  “You tell me.”

  He continued peppering my bottom. I breathed through it, my eyes watering. Still, being disciplined by a hot guy beat going to lock up any day.

  He finished, squeezing my bottom. The rough massage cut the sting in half. My own hands itched to clutch my bottom.

  “Now go stand in the corner. Nose to the wall and use both hands to hold up your shirt.”

  The fresh pain warned me to obey. As I stared at the wall, I heard him move around the room behind me.

  This was crazy. I was standing in the corner with my red ass on display like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar, while Cole sat at the kitchen table and watched. I wasn’t sure what was worse—the pain or the humiliation.

  My pussy was so very wet.

  “Regina, come here.”

  This time I couldn’t keep from blushing as I stood in front of him. He studied me. Even seated, he was a hair taller. “You still want to do this?”

  I nodded.

  “Bend over the table.” He indicated the spot right beside him. Whimpering, I did and he lifted the shirt I wore, inspecting his work.

  I sucked in a breath as he palmed my ass, but he only put the shirt down and let me rise to face him.

  “So that’s it?” I tried to sound nonchalant, even though I wanted to beg him to take me to the bedroom and ravish me.

  He nodded. “Most discipline will hurt but won’t mark you, though I intend to give you a good paddling for stealing. You’ll think twice before doing it ever again.”

  I shifted from foot to foot, thinking.

  He stilled me. “Just relax, and trust me. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  “This is all very strange,” I blurted.

  “Unorthodox. But it’s the way things are going to be, unless you want the law involved.”

  “I don’t want the law involved,” I said absently. My hand went to rub my bottom and he caught it, and gave me a chastising look.

  “Okay. I don’t have a job any more, so what am I going to be doing all day? Will I be able to see my mom?”

  “You will have set times to see your mom. I’m not going to keep you from her, obviously, but I think you need some time away from her, and you won’t allow yourself to take it. So, I’m ordering you to do it. You’ll have no choice.” His fingers curled around my hip. “Same with keeping to a healthy sleeping and eating schedule.”

  “Okay. What else?”

  “Counseling for starters. There’s a group that meets Mondays in the church.”

  “I know you don’t believe me, but I don’t drink or smoke pot on a regular basis.” I tensed. “I don’t need counseling.”

  “It’s not for addiction. It’s for caregivers.”

  I pulled my hand out of his. “Cole—”

  “This is non-negotiable.” His words may as well have been carved in stone. “You’ll also spend a set amount of time volunteering. A way of paying your debt to society. I’ll put some thought to where.”

  “The police station?”

  “Not there, or any place I have jurisdiction over. You’ll be spending a lot of time over here, and people will assume favoritism.”

  “They’d be right. What am I going to do here?”

  “Whatever I want.” His other hand grasped my hip. My pussy started throbbing.

  “What do you want?” I whispered.

  “A maid for one. And three square meals a day. You can cook, right?”

  My mouth dropped open.

  “If not, I can get some cookbooks from the library. If you mess up, I’ll spank you. That should be good incentive.” A smile played around his mouth, I knew he was joking. About the spanking at least.

  “I can cook.” I brushed his hands away. “You sexist pig, if you think—”

  He turned me to the table and delivered three quick swats to my ass. I yelped. He turned me back to face him and continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted.

  “I’m glad you can cook. I expect at least a sandwich for lunch and something hot for dinner. You may end up putting one or two of my meals in the fridge. I work long hours. You’ll be making food for yourself, too.”

  “This is unbelievable. You expect me to cook for you—”

  “And clean. I assume you know how to do that. If not, you’ll have to learn quick.”

  “This isn’t punishment…this is slavery!”

  “A little bit. I could get used to having you as my slave, naughty one.” He pinched my bottom.

  I slapped his hand. “What the hell, Cole!”

  “Language. I think we’ll add a rule: no swearing, or I’ll soap your mouth.”

  I opened my mouth to scream and thought about it. Cole was offering me a way out. Not just of my crimes, but of my shitty life. I’d dropped out of college to take care of my mom, and spent the last two years working as much as I could and still stressing about money. The state provided some funds for my mom’s home nurse, but there was still a hefty deductible. The reason I’d stolen was I was swimming in bills, with no way out. It’d be nice to unplug and not think about my problems for a while.

  Still. “I can’t believe this. It’s…just…insane
.”

  “No, what’s insane is that a young woman with her whole future ahead of her allows herself to get run down and broke caring for her mother, and so starts stealing from her longtime employer and talking to a druggie with a thought to sell. I’ve watched you grow up and I won’t let you throw your life away. You’re too important.”

  Again, he mentioned me being special to…someone. Him?

  “I didn’t know what else to do. Home care is expensive.”

  “What about a full time facility? The state will cover the cost—”

  “No.” I raised my voice. “I’m not putting her in a facility.” There were tears in my eyes. “All we can afford is the state one. I visited. There was no air conditioning, and the residents looked like they wanted to die. Some of them already seemed dead. There were flies on them, and no one cared enough to swat them off.” I scrubbed my aching eyes with a hand, fighting back tears. “I’m not doing it.” My voice sounded broken, even to me.

  “All right.” Cole’s hands returned to my hips, giving me a squeeze.

  “I won’t abandon her. Dad already did. That’s not who I am.”

  “You’re right. It’s not who you are. You’d rather steal than lose your pride. I don’t approve of it, but I understand. And so does Mr. Roberts.”

  “What?”

  “He says you can keep the money.”

  “I can never see him again,” I whispered. “I wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye.”

  He squeezed my hips again. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll help you fix it. I promise.”

  “How?”

  “We’ll get to that,” he said, and rose. “I am going to help you.”

  ***

  I spent the rest of the day trying to wrap my head around the deal I’d made with Cole. After breakfast, he gave me back my now clean clothes, and we hopped in his truck and headed to my mom’s house.

  My mom sat at the table, eating cheerios like a toddler. She didn’t respond to me at all.

  Matthew, the day nurse, was charming, however.

  My mother’s trailer was worn, but I kept it clean at least. Cole’s eyes darted around the space, missing nothing. My face grew hot when I compared my home to the stately brick house Cole had grown up in. His parents lived in a neighborhood that was the Who’s Who of Licking Hole-doctors, lawyers, businessmen. Mine had a break-in or domestic disturbance every other night.