Impact

by Tymber Dalton

  “If he really loved me—and if you really loved me—all you’d care about is that I’m with someone I love, who loves me, and who makes me happy.”

  “The church says—”

  “The church says a lot of things, Mom. You and Dad used birth control for years, before and after I was born. How’s that any different from breaking other church rules?”

  She went a little pink in the face. “That’s different. And what your father and I do in the privacy of our bedroom is—”

  “Exactly.” Cris sat back as the waitress set their glasses on the table.

  From the forced smile on her face, Cris could tell the waitress had heard at least some of that. “Ready to order?” she asked, pulling out her pad and a pen.

  Once that was over and they were alone, again, Cris leaned in and dropped his voice. “What I do in my bedroom shouldn’t be of any concern to you and Dad. If you two can’t love me for who I am, then that’s not my fault.”

  His mom slowly stirred her iced tea with a straw. “All I’m asking is that you come home for a visit. Dinner. Just let him think you’re…not doing this stuff. If he asks about where you’re living—”

  “Lie.” He slowly shook his head. “So it’s okay for me to break a commandment about lying just so Dad doesn’t have to deal with having a bisexual son, huh? Nice. Great way to cherry-pick the rules.”

  “If you’re bisexual then why is it a problem to pretend you’re with a woman?”

  “Because it’s lying, and how is that in any way fair to Lan? I love him.” Cris knew he desperately needed to get this conversation out of the crapper or he’d end up paying his bill and leaving before the food even arrived. “How’s Sofia doing?”

  His mother seemed equally eager to latch onto another topic of conversation. “She’s making her parents pull their hair out. She ran away again yesterday. Julieta wants to let the police find her and lock her up to scare her but Gonzalo won’t let her call them.”

  “Can’t blame her for running,” Cris muttered.

  “They took you in when you needed a place.”

  “Uh, yeah, needed a place because Dad threw me out. And Uncle Gonzalo used to beat the shit out of me, okay?”

  His mother looked shocked.

  “What? Did he forget to report that little factoid when you called to check on me? I’m lucky he never broke any of my damn ribs. Guess child abuse is another of the cherry-picked sins to overlook, huh? No telling what he was doing to her to make her run.”

  “Well, if she calls you—”

  “If she calls me, I’m going to take her in and get her an attorney, help her file for emancipation, and help her press charges against her father, if necessary.”

  “That’s a horrible thing to say!”

  “Why? Because I actually give a shit about her?” He let out a long breath. This wasn’t going well at all. “Does she have a cell phone?”

  “No. They took it away last month because of her grades. They think she’s staying with a friend of hers, but they’re still trying to work on tracking her down.”

  “What about her brothers? Maybe she’s at Santino’s, or Ivan’s. What about Dante?”

  “No. They insist they haven’t seen her. Gonzalo and Julieta even went over to their places to search, just to make sure.”

  He snorted. “Yeah, because there’s such a high level of trust in that family.”

  Cris managed to make it through the meal with her, even paying the whole bill despite her trying to pick up the tab.

  “No, Mom. This one’s on me,” he said as he studied the check. “I can afford it.”

  Her face looked pinched. “Please? Just come by. Come alone, if you insist. If he asks, just say you aren’t involved with anyone.”

  “Meaning I should lie. Which commandment is that, again?”

  She slapped the table and leaned in. “Why do you have to be so stubborn?” she hissed.

  “Why do you two have to be so unaccepting of who I am?”

  “Because you’re going against God’s law!”

  “I thought God was perfect, Mom? Doesn’t make mistakes. He made me like I am. So I’m going to go with that.”

  As always, the old argument shut her up.

  When they parted just outside the restaurant’s front door, she hugged him. “I do love you, you know.”

  “I know,” he said. “I love you, too. And Dad. I just wish you two accepted me.”

  He watched her walk away down the sidewalk, toward where she’d parked.

  No, he wouldn’t deny Landry was his partner. He wouldn’t lie to make his parents feel better. One lie would lead to another until he was dragged into his family’s web of dysfunction and forced to live two separate lives.

  If they couldn’t accept him the way he was, yeah, it hurt, but it was okay. He had Landry. And a growing group of friends who supported and loved them both.

  Although, as he made his way to his own car, he did worry about Sofia. He hoped that she came around and didn’t screw up her life. The last thing he wanted to hear was her getting into trouble. To him, she’d always be that sweet kid who’d looked up to him and never understood why her father beat him. The kid he’d helped with her homework.

  She was the teenager who didn’t care that he was in a relationship with a guy.

  I’ll ask Landry about getting her a cheap cell phone for emergencies. He hated not knowing if she was safe or not.

  But, unfortunately, there wasn’t much he could do about it right that moment.

  Digging his keys out, Cris got in. Not the fanciest car, but it ran well. Courtesy of Landry. Sharing the man’s bed and being his slave was no hardship. Landry loved him, accepted him, cared for him.

  Cris wouldn’t trade that for anything.

  * * * *

  Once Cris returned home, he immediately stripped and donned his leather cuffs and collar. Landry preferred him naked when they were home alone.

  Or, sometimes, even when they weren’t alone. There were some friends who were in the lifestyle who’d been over and witnessed Cris in his usual manner of attire, or lack thereof.

  Landry would be home in an hour and expect the house to be clean and dinner underway. Cris was almost completely caught up on his chores, so that wasn’t an issue.

  By the time Landry walked in the door, Cris waited in the foyer, kneeling and head bowed, his normal position.

  “There he is,” Landry said, as he always did. “My beautiful boy.” He set his things down and walked over to Cris, where he stroked his hair. “Missed you.”

  Cris already felt the twinges of subspace setting in. “Missed you, too, Master.”

  “Dinner smells wonderful, but first—how did lunch go?”

  Cris should have expected the question. “Not well, Master.” He recapped what happened as Landry stood there, gently running his fingers through Cris’ hair the entire time.

  When Cris finished, Landry patted him on the top of his head, the indication for Cris to stand.

  Landry’s deep green gaze stared into his. Then he cupped Cris’ face in his hands and kissed him, slowly, sweetly. “I love you, my sweet boy,” Landry said. “Always and forever.”

  Deeper subspace beckoned, teasing, calling Cris to it. “I love you, too, Master.”

  Landry pulled Cris in for a long, strong hug. “Are your chores and classwork done for the day?”

  “Yes, Master. Once I clean the kitchen after dinner.”

  “Good. I’ll give my sweet boy a nice, hard paddling after dinner, followed by a good, long fucking. How does that sound?”

  Cris sighed. “That sounds wonderful, Master.”

  * * * *

  The woman sitting across the table from him held little resemblance to the girl Cris remembered. Now nineteen, she already bore a careworn expression that spoke to the hard life she was living. Cris was the only one in their family with whom she still had any contact.

  Which was ironic, because she was pretty much the only one i
n their family with whom he had any contact.

  “You can come with me, you know,” he said. “I start next week. Live with me, get a job, rebuild your life.”

  Of course, he left out the part that he would be rebuilding his life, too. He hadn’t told her why he and Landry split up. He’d been lucky the headhunter who’d repeatedly approached him over the past two years had a job opening for him in Florida.

  Perfect.

  All the way on the opposite end of the country from Landry.

  Her hair hung in stringy curtains along her face as she silently shook her head.

  He reached across the table and gently took her hands in his. “Fi, come with me. Please? Let’s get out of here together. You and me.”

  “I can’t, Cris,” she whispered.

  He was no idiot. No matter how much concealer she used, he could still make out the faint and healing bruise high on her left cheekbone.

  “If money’s a problem, I’ll pay.”

  She shook her head. “He’ll never let me go,” she said.

  “Uh, kind of the point, kiddo. There’s a serious problem when he beats the crap out of you and controls you. He won’t be able to find you. And I can protect you.”

  He wished he could admit what he was going through, the reason he was walking away from Landry.

  That Landry was willing to throw away six years of their lives together over wanting to date others proved to Cris he didn’t really know the man at all.

  And he wished like hell he hadn’t given Landry his heart, or his submission.

  Fi slowly shook her head again.

  He saw the resignation on her face and knew that, unless she decided she was tired of being used as a human punching bag, she wouldn’t leave until she hit bottom.

  “I won’t change my cell number,” he told her. “Promise me you’ll memorize it and call me if you change your mind. I will come get you, even from Florida.”

  She slowly nodded.

  She’d maybe said twenty words, if that, during lunch. He’d hated having to break the news to her that he was leaving.

  He hated even more that she wouldn’t move with him.

  There was a new start waiting for both of them in Florida.

  This current jackass was just the latest in a string of them, even at her young age. Apparently she wore an invisible “victim” sign on her forehead. Attracting every two-footed predator who could get his mitts on her.

  And with her parents having basically told her she was on her own, she now felt locked in an inescapable cycle.

  Looked like the two Guerrero brothers were a lot alike. Gonzalo and Marcos both tossed children aside like disposable diapers.

  I’ll never treat any child of mine like that. Ever.

  A deep sadness settled over him when he hugged her good-bye and watched her walk down the sidewalk toward the bus stop. He’d offered to drive her, hoping he could convince her, use the additional time alone with her to talk her into running away with him, but she wouldn’t.

  She was scared, of her boyfriend, and for Cris, despite him reminding her he could take care of himself.

  He supposed she’d found her way to a gang member for a boyfriend.

  You can’t save everyone.

  It sure as hell hurt, though. Hurt on a cellular level, a soul-deep level. Even deeper than what he was going through by walking away from Landry. At least he had the choice to leave. He could take an action.

  It hurt even worse with Landry being equitable about him leaving, about buying him out, giving him a solid nest egg to leave with.

  He wished the man had fought for him. Anything.

  Like he wanted to fight for Fi.

  Unfortunately, in both cases, he couldn’t fight the fight for them.

  They had to want to fight.

  Chapter Two

  Now…

  “I am not going to fight about this with you,” Tilly said.

  “Then take my damn car.”

  “I can take a cab—”

  Cris grabbed her by the hair and tipped her head back. “I’m not arguing with you about this, either, Redbird,” he growled in Master tone. “Take. My. Car.”

  She still managed to roll her eyes at him. “Okay, fine.”

  Who was she kidding? She couldn’t resist him.

  Especially when he played the Dom card.

  “Fine what?”

  She sighed. “Fine, Sir.”

  “Good girl.” He kissed her, then released her hair, pulling her in for a hug. “I still don’t understand why you won’t rent a car.”

  “Because I don’t want to end up on TMZ.com,” she mumbled. “That little fucker really pissed me off a couple of weeks ago. I’ve heard through the grapevine that now he’s out to get me since I told him off and he didn’t get it on video.”

  “That’s all?”

  “I don’t want to give him any ammo he can use against the gang.”

  That was her nickname for the poly trio of Lucas, Leigh, and Nick, their friends.

  Oh, and Tilly’s employers. It was common knowledge that Leigh and Lucas were married and close friends with Nick, with whom they were also business partners.

  It was not widely known that macho-man action star Nick was Lucas’ bisexual slave. As was Leigh. Lucas’ slave, that is, but not bi.

  “How can you renting a car give him any ammo against them?” Cris asked.

  “Why would I rent a car when I have a place here in LA?”

  “Uh, because it’s in the shop. The same reason a lot of people have to rent a car.”

  “Yeah, exactly. Because I was an idiot and hit a traffic barrel. I don’t need him hunting up a police report.”

  “But it wasn’t your fault. The wind blew it in front of you before you could avoid it. Two other people hit it after you did. I’m just glad nobody was hurt. None of you were even cited for it.”

  “Thank god no one recognized me at the accident scene last night.” She crossed her arms over her chest. They’d flown back to LA Sunday evening, and she’d barely been there twenty-four hours before wrecking her car.

  “By the time the guy gets done with the story, if he gets hold of it, he’ll have it looking like I ran over an orphanage school outing, or was in a drunk driving accident, or something equally bad, and that it’s getting covered up. Once something like that gets out, it makes people talk in the bad way no matter what the truth is.”

  “You make no sense, sweetheart.”

  “You’re right that it doesn’t make sense,” she said. “This is Hollyweird we’re talking about. Where the paparazzi lie in wait to get the perfect picture of a celebrity rubbing their face so it looks like they were picking their nose.”

  Cris stared at the living room windows of their condo. “Remind me to tell Lan we need to add extra thick window blinds to all the windows.”

  “Duh. Damn Interstate construction, anyway. I’ll never bitch about Tampa’s traffic again. Are the roads ever not under construction here?”

  “Freeway,” he said.

  “What?”

  “We call it the freeway out here, not the Interstate.”

  She planted her fists on her hips. “Really? You’re seriously going to go there?”

  “I’m just sayin’.”

  Then he smirked.

  Time folded and faded and it felt like the five years he’d left her had never happened. That handsome, playful smirk he wielded could completely disarm her sarcasm cannon and dampen her panties.

  At the same time.

  Yes, it shocked the hell out of her, too. This was never a situation she’d thought she’d ever experience in her life. Not only loving, but having forgiven Cris for leaving her in the first place.

  “I have a lot of work to catch up on,” Cris said. “You can take me to work and pick me up. That way, you’ll have the car all day, as long as you need it.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good girl.”

  Not many people got to see this side of
Tilly with Cris. Most people saw her treat him as an equal, or co-topping him with Landry at Venture, the BDSM club they frequented in Sarasota, where their home was located.

  Only recently had Tilly been able to allow the final remnants of the wall in her heart against Cris to crumble. She’d finally been able to ask him to be her Master again.

  He wasn’t going anywhere. Truly, he wasn’t. Especially not with Landry as her husband.

  Because Landry had already told her he planned on staying married to her for life. It didn’t hurt that Landry was happy to watch Cris and Tilly play together at home, getting every bit as turned on by it as Landry did by topping Cris.

  Sadistic man.

  Boy, did she love him. Both of them.

  Several years into her marriage to Landry, Tilly had finally released the last vestiges of her anger at Cris. She got it. She didn’t agree with his fucked-up logic about leaving her without so much as an explanation when he returned to California to help Landry heal from his first bout with cancer, which was discovered after the car accident that almost killed the man, but she understood it now.

  Especially since Landry had tried to kill himself in the car accident.

  That was in the past. Done, and moving on. It was more important for them to enjoy the life ahead of them. The very lucky life they had together, with Landry and Cris’ successful software business, and Tilly’s job as Lucas and Leigh’s assistant at their production company.

  Leigh had begged Tilly to come to work for them, needing someone they could trust, someone they knew could hold her own against pushy entertainment bigwigs, and someone who absolutely would keep their confidence about their poly BDSM relationship.

  The gang didn’t have to watch what they said or did around Tilly. They knew she had their backs.

  And, truth be told, Tilly had been in a rut. Landry was clear from his second bout of cancer, the one that had driven him to locate Tilly and reunite her and Cris. A nurse by training, she’d welcomed the chance to give up being a pro-Domme to oversee Landry’s treatment and recovery.

  The work with Lucas, Leigh, and Nick was a challenge. She’d felt completely adrift and lost at first, until she’d started learning the basics of the company, what they did, and got to know more people.