Bound

by Piper Malone

  “Fuck you, Caleb!” The words rip from my throat, pained and raw.

  “No, Kat, fuck you.” He turns on his heel, an accusatory finger pointed at my face. “You’re an idiot for walking away from him.”

  “Don’t you think I know that! You really think I wouldn’t miss him or think about him or see him in every damn piece of my life?” Tears explode, the emotion too strong to hold. I almost don’t care that I’m crying in front of Caleb. I can’t think about the fact that he looks a little satisfied that he’s broken me.

  And my bestie watched it all from the corner of the room and has remained silent. “Are you going to defend me at all?”

  Reagan presses her lips into a thin line and inhales before walking into the living room and sitting on the arm of a chair. “Kat, I need you to listen to what I’m going to say before you react. Can you do that?”

  I nod, before accepting a box of tissues from Caleb. I wipe way the tears that won’t stop coming and do my best to focus on Reagan.

  “I wouldn’t have presented my thoughts the way Caleb did, but I don’t disagree with him.”

  The idea that Reagan doesn’t see me as strong makes my voice wobble and pushes new tears forward. “I am not weak.”

  “Never, Kat. I know you too well to think that. But I know you are intelligent and I know that, while you are very free and wild, there are parts of you that are very rigid. You kick ass at work because you can compartmentalize and attack a task. At parties, you are the giant disco ball lighting up the room. But when it comes to your heart, you struggle to let people in and you work very hard to keep people out.”

  “I let you in,” I mumble, tearing at the soggy tissue in my hand.

  “You did, but it took years, Kat,” she says with gentle confrontation. “I went through four years of wondering why you always got prickly around the holidays until you told me what happened in your home.”

  “He saw it,” I offer quietly. “I told him.”

  “I think the fact that you even started the conversation is huge. You must feel comfortable enough with him to share those memories.”

  “He made me do it,” I confess. “He wouldn’t let me off the hook.”

  “That’s a sign, Kat. He saw something in you that was causing you discomfort and he wanted to figure it out.” Caleb’s voice is back to normal, firm and caring.

  Reagan sends her husband a loving smile, happy that he’s off the battlefield. “Now,” she turns back to me, “do you know what happened?”

  “I do, but I don’t,” I hedge, before stealing a glance at Caleb. Confessing what happened with him in the room feels weird, but he already knows most of the details from Blake. I tell them everything, my heartbreak over his story about David and what he dealt with at work that night, the fear that something would happen to him in the field, my growing love for him, the need to make him feel better, and the passionate fervor with which he ravaged me. “And then he called me dirty,” I blubber, not realizing the tears had started all over again.

  “Dirty in what context?” Caleb inquires. “Dirty like you need a shower, or dirty like you’ve just done something truly intimate?”

  “I don’t know. I was clean. I made sure I was all ready for him. I washed with his favorite soap when I knew he was coming home.” I pause, looking at their faces, imploring me to continue. “I took it to mean I was a slut, like I whored myself.”

  “Is that what he meant?” Reagan questions.

  “I don’t know….” I shift, their joint gaze almost a little too much to handle. “He said it and I heard my uncle.”

  “That’s what I was waiting for,” Reagan says, snapping her fingers as the pieces of the puzzle fall into place.

  “Wait,” Caleb interjects, “does Blake know that happened? Did you tell him to stop?”

  “He knows what my uncle and Artur said to me,” I reply. “No one really knows I hear the memories. They only get loud when I am stressed or upset. I feel like I’ve worked hard to get past them but they’ve been consistent lately.”

  “You need to tell him, Kat.” Caleb leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. “He needs to know what he’s facing when you two are intimate.”

  “Hold on,” Reagan jumps in, “did that ever happen before?”

  “Never. We’ve always had a great time.”

  “But I would assume he’s restrained you on some level.”

  “I told you about the blindfold. We’ve talked about other things but most times we just get grabby and end up rolling around,” I confess.

  They look at each other, then at me.

  “Kat, he knows you have submissive pieces to you.” Caleb pauses, his eyes shifting around the room before zeroing back on me.

  “But we don’t scene.”

  “What about the honor bondage?” Reagan interjects.

  “Yes, we did that.” I’m so exhausted with the great honor-bondage-debate. “It never seemed wrong until I knew that he was acting with specific intention. In all honesty, we fought about it, and I’ve thought about it so much, it’s a non-issue. He’s asked me to do it since I’ve know what it is and it’s fine.” I roll my eyes. “I just had a really shitty moment and everything fell apart.”

  “Have you ever felt unsafe with him?” Reagan asks.

  “No.” It’s an easy answer. “I just… I’m trying to figure out how to make everything work.”

  “What are you trying to figure out?” Caleb asks. “I think everything is pretty clear to me. You freaked out. He doesn’t know why. You need to tell him. Then you two can get on with your life.”

  “I feel like I want to be with him,” I say to Reagan.

  “You are with him, kitten,” she assures me.

  “No,” I fight with the words before deciding to dump them. “He makes me think about getting married. I can’t picture being in the house without him.” I want to fight the next words but they bubble up like vomit. “I think about having a kid with him.”

  Reagan’s face scrunches up like a happy little bunny. Caleb’s face looks like it’s going to melt off his skull. “Kat,” Reagan coos, “that’s wonderful.”

  “Not it’s not!” I squeal. “It’s sick. I can’t do what you do, Reagan. I’m not nice. I don’t have a loving heart like you do.” Confusion falls over both their faces. “I’m evil. I don’t belong in your world.”

  “What world are you talking about?” Caleb looks like I’ve deposited him squarely in the twilight zone. “Do you have any idea what she’s saying,” he asks Reagan. “If you do, please translate.”

  “I think I do.” Reagan looks at me with a quizzical eye. “Kat, what differences do you see between Caleb and me versus you and Blake?”

  She can’t be this dumb. “Me, Reagan,” I state. “I’m the difference.”

  “How?” she implores. “Specifically, how are you the odd one out?”

  “I’m not like you. I’m not kind or sweet. I’m not really gentle or loving. I don’t think there is a happily ever after for me because I’m not that kind of girl.”

  “What kind of girl are you?”

  “The kind that likes to roll around naked in the grass with her boyfriend and drink vodka.”

  “Can’t that be worthy of happiness?” Caleb asks.

  “With who, dumbass,” I counter.

  “With Blake, smartass,” he shoots back at me. “If you think that guy is flowers and romance, you are barking up the wrong tree.”

  “Kat, just because it isn’t traditional, doesn’t mean it isn’t right or good. No one should tell you how to love someone else. You and Blake can be a union all unto yourselves. There is nothing that says you have to emulate me.”

  “But you have this way of looking perfect and just flowing with stuff.”

  “And you saw me when I was so low I couldn’t pull myself off a couch to shower,” she says the words with more force than I can handle. She was in so much pain when Caleb was sick. It broke my heart. “The people close to you are a
ble to see the dark moments because, deep down, you know they can handle the sludge. You got me moving. You fed me. You made sure I was taken care of. You stood up for me. Kat, if that’s not love, I don’t know what is.”

  “Relationships aren’t prescribed, Kat. You don’t have to mimic the way your parents did things or the way we do things,” Caleb offers. “You have to do what’s right for you.”

  “Think about it this way; if he was stuck at work for days, would you take him food if you knew he was too busy to get his own meal?”

  “Of course! I know all the diners near the station. That’s easy.”

  “Would you help him if his family needed him, or if he was called away?”

  “Yes.”

  “If he was injured, or something happened to him in the line of duty, would you help care for him?”

  “That’s not even a question.”

  “All of those things require you to be vulnerable to another person, Kat. To give of yourself for the benefit of someone else. Sex is the same way. By giving yourself to him, you are showing him you trust him with your body and your mind. Your willingness to allow him full access to your body is a huge turn on. Blake loves your sex drive, especially because it’s for him. He turns you on, that lights his fire. You open yourself to him and that trips his trigger.”

  “Kat,” Reagan giggles, “I’m a slut.”

  “Reagan—”

  She lifts a hand to stop me. “I am a huge slut for my man.”

  Caleb’s smile beams with pride and adoration for his wife. “It’s true. And I’m a total whore for her.”

  “It might sound strange,” Reagan interjects, “and for some it takes a little bit to understand. For others, it’s like breathing. You give yourself to your lover and they do the same for you. It’s an intimacy that can bond people in a profound way.”

  Blake in my life has been amazing. The idea of us having, and building, a deep emotional relationship is enticing. He lets me be myself. I feel comfortable with him. The adventurous sex, STUDZ, the romp in his parent’s backyard, the goofy recreation of our first time in the closet at various locations around town. It’s everything I could have wanted and I pushed him away.

  “Is he done with me?”

  “I don’t think so, but I’ll be very honest; this has hurt him.” Caleb’s tone is serious. “I’ve never seen him so down.”

  “You need to think very seriously about what you want, Kat,” Reagan advises. “This is no longer only about you. Intimate relationships are about conviction and perseverance in the good and bad. Whoever said marriages or partnerships are fifty-fifty, lied. Deeply committed relationship are one hundred percent and one hundred percent. Both of you need to contribute all of yourself to the good of the whole.”

  Deep shame rolls through me. “I’ve never done that before.”

  “You’ve done it with me,” Reagan says with a gentle smile. “Granted, it’s a little different but I know your level of commitment to me. I hope you know my level to you.”

  “I was really upset when you tried to push me off when I called.”

  “I can imagine, but you need to understand that this is no longer just you and me and the random guys who pissed you off. We’re all connected now.”

  I nod; she’s right. And so is Caleb. I’ve been selfish.

  I need to fix this.

  I need Blake.

  I need us.

  “Okay,” I sigh, “I need some time to figure all this out.”

  “If you need us, we’re here,” Caleb offers. “Don’t let me down, Kat. I know how you’d react if Reagan was hurt. Blake is my Reagan. I’ll make your life hell.”

  Reagan rolls her eyes before standing and wrapping me in a tight embrace. “We love you, Kat. Call us if you need any help.”

  Chapter 29

  Blake

  She left my apartment two and a half weeks ago and I haven’t seen her since. After seeing her almost every day for the past month, it feels like we’ve been separated for an eternity.

  Caleb has kept me up to date as much as he can. I know she went to their house. He gave me snippets of the conversation. It doesn’t sound like things are over, but I’m not sure where to go next.

  I know she’s been overwhelmed with getting everything ready to launch the marketing campaign. We get an email about it every day. The subject line is a countdown to the launch party. Watching the number of days tick down to the event is a knife to my jugular. I have to attend the party. I don’t know what I’ll do if I have physical access to her.

  In the days that have passed, I’ve tried to figure it out. This distance is my fault. I felt too much. I didn’t think. Everything was a mess. I told her I needed her, but she didn’t know how. I scared her. But she didn’t stop me, didn’t say no. Kat just left.

  She did everything I feared she would. She ran without talking.

  In the blink of an eye, we are almost back to square one. I send a generic text. She barely responds.

  Pacing around my apartment, I flip through the options, all of which seem bleak. I can’t go to her apartment, she’s at work. I can’t go to her work because she’s busy with the launch.

  I can’t go to Reign because… I don’t fucking know why, but I just can’t.

  The only thing I can do guts me from stem to stern. I pound out the text message, hating myself for pressing send.

  Have you seen Kat?

  The man must have his phone glued to his hand. Ax’s reply appears instantly.

  No. Why?

  I can’t wrap my brain around how to compress the magnitude of this shit storm into a text. Thankfully, Ax’s number lights up my phone as an incoming call.

  “What happened?” he demands. The chatter of lively conversation in the background is muddled by the pounding bass.

  “Where are you, man?” It’s ten thirty on a Tuesday morning. How many places does this guy creep into?

  “I’m out,” he growls. His evasiveness is enough to rile my feathers. Does he have her? I vaguely hear his voice on the other end of the line while my mind starts telling the tale of Kat running to Ax after our fight. Ax calling her to him, her settling in his arms. My chest heaves with the thought of him taking what’s mine. “Hey!” he barks, “don’t rattle your can. She’s not with me.” I hear the noise disappear, Ax must be moving somewhere less populated. “Get it together, asswipe. I can hear you snorting like a pissed-off bull. Tell me what happened. I don’t have all day.”

  I hate this guy sometimes, but I feel like all I’m doing is pissing in Caleb’s ear. Baron is out of the hospital but still on medical leave. Nick would kill me if I stepped inside a ten-foot radius of him. My dad just won’t get it.

  Before I can stop myself, I purge. Barfing up every detail of the fire, asking her to come over, the night, her freaking out, and the radio silence since.

  “Fuck.” I can hear him take a long drink of whatever beverage he’s imbibing. “I had no clue. I haven’t talked to her in almost a week. I texted her about her sex calendar this morning but she never got back.”

  White-hot rage flares against the soaring guilt for my behavior. Ax texted my girlfriend. I’m sure that’s some serious point deductions in my overall relationship status. If I still have a relationship status.

  “Just let me know if you see or hear from her.” I can’t be mad at him. He listened and didn’t call me every name in the book. Ax never once laid blame or accusation.

  “I’ll send her home to you when she surfaces, man. Hang in there.”

  Without another word, Ax ends the call. I look at the blank phone, wondering if it’s too late to send her a good-morning text.

  It’s never too late to let someone know you are thinking about them.

  I send the text and pace around my apartment, thinking that the space is too big without her. Kat coming home to me feels like a dream come true.

  *

  Three days later, I’m still in purgatory. Minimal texts. No calls. No communicati
on. No clue about where Kat and I stand.

  The only relief is that I’m at work. I can have a purpose instead of wondering if I should buy an old-man cardigan because I haven’t left the house aside from basic errands. I’ve had multiple messages from subs wanting to set up scenes. I’ve denied them all. I can’t do it. I’m not in the right frame of mind. It’s no longer about providing a service; it’s about the consequences of the act. I hesitated with Skyler because of my feelings for Kat. I really just wanted to be a silent contributor in helping Sky get through her struggles. I didn’t realize the potential damage that choice could have brought to my relationship. The more I think about it, the more I realize that scene could have ruined everything with Kat. I definitely scarred Nick when he was already in a bad place. I hurt people I care about, people I love. Thankfully, Kat forgave me for Skyler. I just hope she is willing to talk to me about what happened.

  “Hey, guys.” McNichol’s blanket call for all his employees, men and women, quiets the room. “We’re going to cut through all our normal chitchat and get right to a situation we’re dealing with in Rhode Island. Last night there was an explosion at their largest chemical manufacturing plant. The blast killed several people and the wind has caused the fire to spread. Their crews are working to contain the flames but they are getting out of hand. They called in for help and we need to form a crew to assist them.”

  “How big a blaze are we talking, Chief?” Douglas asks from the back corner.

  “The entire plant is thirty-six acres. At last report, a quarter of it is engulfed.” He only lets the low murmurs go on for so long before he continues. “I will be sending a rotating crew to help their numbers. In addition, we need someone to stay and manage the volunteers helping to contain the fire and offer support to the community for a couple of weeks. We’ll put you up in a hotel and take care of expenses.”