Woman In Chains

by Bridget Midway

  “Get out!” Her father waved his gun to shoo Dak from his porch.

  He marched back to his truck. He’d wasted too much time trying to convert a monster. He had bigger fish to fry, mainly finding Rebekah and apologizing his heart out to her.

  “Come on, Dak. Think. This is a woman who has been beaten down. She has a lot to prove. Who would she hit first?” He thought about it, and it struck him.

  He put his truck in gear and raced to Blade’s house. Blade had just announced that Rebekah had been violent. Of course, she probably planned to confront him to either settle the score or beg for forgiveness. Dak just hoped the answer existed somewhere in between those two extremes.

  He screeched to a halt in front of Blade’s house. He ran to the front door and pounded on it when it wouldn’t open. As soon as he heard the screams from inside, he ran around to the back where he had gotten in before.

  Just like last time, the back door had been left unlocked. He bolted through and raced to the bedroom, where he found the oddest scene. Dak saw a naked woman kneeling on the floor who covered her head with her arms. Then Blade fisted his pants in one hand as he held the other hand up to Rebekah to keep her back.

  “What’s going on here?” Dak asked.

  Rebekah turned to him. He had expected to find her with fiery rage in her eyes. Instead, Rebekah looked very calm and serene.

  “I’m not a violent person, Dak.” Rebekah’s voice remained smooth and even.

  Rebekah using his real name instead of calling him Master Dak let him know the situation had shifted. She no longer saw him as her Dom. He had to change that. “I know.” He approached her slowly. “Now I know what you meant when you said that we are a lot alike.”

  “And you two are. You’re both crazy!” Blade said from the safety of his corner.

  Rebekah turned to her former Dom. “I’m not crazy. I didn’t do any of those things to Lil’ Mary. Did you ever notice that the bite marks were in places that she, herself, could reach? On her arms, her hands, her knee. Never on her back or the backs of her legs. That’s because she did it herself.” She brought her attention to Dak. “Had I known your last submissive was Lil’ Mary, I would have said something to you about her. She was in a lot of pain. I know the feeling. After I left my father, after seeing what he did to my mother, I was determined not to be a victim. I just knew that all men were abusing bastards. So I thought that instead of waiting for the abuse to come out of nowhere, I would control it. I would provoke it and take it to show my strength. My mother always looked so surprised whenever my father slapped her or called her names. I didn’t want to be that way. I wanted to see it coming. I now understand that I don’t need to be treated badly to repair the sins of the past or to get noticed. I know now that I deserve happiness in whatever way gives me pleasure.”

  “You don’t. You deserve a straightjacket.” Blade pointed to her again.

  “I didn’t hurt Lil’ Mary. The day of the incident, she approached me. She said she’d heard you talking about getting rid of one of us. She assumed you would keep me since I was younger and newer. She wrote those horrible words over her body, not me. She started hitting me. I put my hands up to protect myself. When she wouldn’t stop, I ran to a room and tried shutting myself behind a door. She grabbed the door and kept me from closing it. The knob slipped out of my hand. The door hit her face, and that’s how she got the black eye and broke her teeth. When you came home and saw the scene, you assumed that I had done it. When you vowed to fix me, I thought it was what I deserved. I saw Lil’ Mary hurting herself in the same way I had hurt myself for years, and I didn’t stop her or offer to help her.”

  “You? Help her? You’re weak. You’re nothing. You couldn’t change anyone.”

  “Shut up, Blade.” Dak approached Rebekah. “The old me would have thought what Blade thought, which is that you hurt Lil’ Mary. But I believe you. I trust you. You know that, right?”

  Rebekah nodded. “Right.”

  “She hasn’t changed. I bet you with one slap, she’ll be that same crazy bitch she was before.” Blade raised his hand to Rebekah.

  Before Dak could stop him, Rebekah grabbed Blade’s hand in the air and held his fingers apart just like Dak had showed her. As expected, Blade dropped down to the floor and whined like a baby.

  “You are not going to hit me.” She glanced at the submissive. “If I were you and you plan on staying with him, learn some self-defense moves.” Rebekah took a step back before letting him go.

  “See, I told you she was crazy.” Blade cradled his injured hand on his lap.

  “If she’s crazy, then I must be crazy.” Dak reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a long, black velvet box. “I wanted to do this at the party, but things got a little hectic there. Yes, I did initially save you to get back at Blade. But I never planned on training you. When I started training you, and you and I bonded, I couldn’t deny that we were meant to be together.” Dak cracked open the box and showed off a diamond choker. “I’d like for us to start off fresh. I love you.”

  Rebekah shook her head. “No, you can’t.” She tried getting away from him, but he stopped her.

  “I can and I do. I love you.” He took the choker out of the box. “Will you be mine?”

  “Nothing about our relationship now feels honest. You didn’t keep me because you wanted to help. You just wanted to hurt Blade.” Rebekah wiped a tear away from her cheek. “You told me that I mattered. I don’t feel that way.”

  “You do matter. You have to believe me.”

  She shook her head. “No!” Then, with all of her might, she shoved him back. “I can’t believe the only reason you saved me was to get back at Blade.”

  “That’s Master Blade.”

  Rebekah glared at him, and it made her former Dom scurry back on his knees.

  “Here I thought you had a good heart. It makes me wonder if you did all of the other saves for reasons other than the right ones, because someone needed help.”

  Dak approached her. “Rebekah, I—”

  “No. The one good thing you taught me in the time we were together was that, as a submissive, I need to know what it is I want.” She pivoted her gaze between Dak and Blade. “I know I want a relationship based on truth.” She pushed Dak’s collar away from her. “I can’t accept this. And I don’t want to be here.” Rebekah started to walk away, but Dak held her hand.

  “I love you. Let’s talk about this.”

  She turned her head away for a moment before directing her attention back to him. “I love you, too. But I have to love myself more before I can be any good to anyone.” She stared pointedly at Blade. “If I allow myself to be stuck in a relationship where I’m not heard”—then she brought her attention to Dak—“or I fall for a man with so much to hide, I won’t be the type of submissive I want to be.”

  “Do you want to be a submissive still?” Every muscle in Dak’s body tightened as he awaited her answer.

  After a beat, Rebekah hunched her shoulders. “I don’t know.” Then she walked away.

  “Where are you going?” Dak started after her.

  “I need to figure out what it is I want. I can’t do that living with you.”

  “Your stuff—”

  She shook her head. “None of it is mine. You keep it.”

  “And your paintings?”

  She didn’t acknowledge them. “I’ll be fine. Please don’t follow me or try to find me. You did your job. You saved me from a negative situation, and you retrained me perfectly.”

  When she walked away from him, Dak felt like the biggest failure. For the second time, he’d lost a submissive he truly cared about because he lacked the ability to listen and address her needs.

  “Damn.” Dak closed the jewelry box and shoved it back into his pocket.

  “Not that I actually give a shit, but she’s not the only submissive out there.” Blade fastened his pants. “You can find another one.”

  To Dak, there were no other submissi
ves or women who could capture his attention, his mind, his senses, and his heart like Rebekah. Without her, he felt lost and alone.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “And after you take these courses and get certified, we can work on some of your clearances. You still have your license to carry firearms, right?”

  Dak heard his friend McCreevey talking, and he had heard every word he said, but Dak’s mind remained elsewhere, mainly on Rebekah’s whereabouts. She’d been gone for over two weeks, the longest fourteen days of his life. How could he just let her go? Would she ever come back?

  “Hello?” McCreevey waved his hand in front of Dak’s face.

  Dak blinked a few times before fully focusing on his new boss. “What?”

  “I just asked you for a million dollars, and you wanted to know if I wanted it in tens and twenties.”

  Dak furrowed his eyebrows.

  McCreevey chuckled. “I’m kidding. I was going over what you needed to be a PI, and you looked spaced out. What’s going on with you, man?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Now, even if I wasn’t a private eye, I know that that’s a bald-face lie. So break it down to a brotha. You still having them nightmares?”

  Dak shook his head. “I haven’t had dreams about the war in a while.” No, something else consumed Dak’s thoughts and dreams, mainly Rebekah.

  Although he only wanted to dream about the good times, the incredible sex and the intimate moments they’d shared, the only images that haunted him had been the ones where she’d looked so disappointed and hurt.

  “Is it family?” McCreevey asked.

  Dak shook his head. The few family members he still talked to were fine the last time he’d checked.

  “Is it a woman?”

  With that query, Dak glanced at his friend.

  “Ah, ol’ McCreevey always finds the answer. I didn’t know you were seeing someone.”

  “I was. But I fucked up. How we got together was based on a lie, and she found out. Now she wants nothing to do with me.”

  “Hmm, do you blame her?”

  That question forced Dak to blink.

  “I mean, would you really want some chick who didn’t think enough of herself to say ‘This is not what I want in a relationship’? You can’t expect women to be doormats.”

  Now Dak laughed. His friend spouted the same advice he’d given to Rebekah when he’d retrained her, and yet he wanted her to forget all of that for him.

  “You’re right. But I miss her like crazy.”

  McCreevey put his hand on his shoulder. “If she’s meant to come back to you, she will. But you have to give her and yourself some time.”

  “So what, are you a private eye and a relationship counselor?”

  McCreevey smiled. “Buddy, you don’t know the half of all of my skills.”

  Dak laughed, a first in several weeks.

  “Diving into work might be a good thing for you. Keep your mind off of your woman troubles.”

  Dak hoped. Building furniture, getting all of Rebekah’s paintings framed, and making the downstairs area a shrine to her hadn’t helped him. He missed her. His body ached for her. His friend knew his stuff. Dak had to do something he never did as a Dominant: he had to wait to see what Rebekah wanted.

  ****

  Rebekah brought a mug of tea to Mistress Siren and started to lower herself onto the floor next to her.

  “No, no. Sit on the couch.” The stately woman pointed to the couch that sat next to her.

  Although Rebekah had never served a woman before, she found the request odd. However, she did as instructed and sat across from her. Rebekah had a feeling that Mistress Siren would share some bad news.

  To beat Siren’s speech, Rebekah said, “I just want to thank you for allowing me into your home.”

  “I told you I would help you, and I meant that.” Siren took a sip of her tea.

  The aroma of it reminded Rebekah so much of Dak. She shook her head. She had to stop thinking about him.

  Easier said than done. The man consumed her thoughts, from his eyes to his voice to the incredible way he touched her. Just thinking of him, Rebekah’s nipples hardened, and the familiar throbbing of her clit began. She crossed her legs to halt the feeling.

  “And I’m so grateful that you’ve taught me so much while I’ve been here.” Rebekah smiled to show her appreciation.

  “I don’t mind training submissives and slaves.”

  “And your house is incredible. You must be very—”

  “Rebekah, what is it that you really want?” Mistress Siren posed the question in the middle of Rebekah’s compliment.

  “Excuse me, Mistress Siren?”

  “You serve me, but you do it out of obligation instead of need. When I saw you with Dak, you seemed so happy.”

  “He lied to me.”

  Mistress Siren set down her mug. “And I’m sure he regrets it every day of his life. But I can tell you this. Dakota Ricci is a good man. He’ll go out of his way to help people, but he’s had so many obstacles thrown in front of him. He never seems to catch a break…until you.”

  Rebekah stared at Siren, mainly at the woman’s mouth, like she wanted to examine every word formed with her lips about Dak.

  Siren continued. “I know it was hard for him to give up Lil’ Mary when they were together. But it seemed like he bounced back from that a lot better than with you. I’ve seen him recently. He’s not the same Dakota I knew. And—although he won’t admit it, being the stubborn mule that he is—I know he misses you terribly.”

  He couldn’t miss her as much as she missed him. Rebekah had gone so far as to do a pencil sketch of Dak that she kept hidden under her pillow. Once she’d even masturbated to it.

  “I’m not telling you what you should do.” Mistress Siren waved her finger at her. “If I know Dak, and I do, because I taught him everything he knows about BDSM, I know he taught you that as a submissive you need to think for yourself, make decisions that make you happy. Despite what happened to cause you to be so upset with him, did he make you happy?”

  Rebekah couldn’t answer. Her eyes filled with fat tears that flowed freely down her cheeks.

  Siren pulled out a couple of sheets of facial tissue from a box next to her and handed them to Rebekah. “That’s what I thought. Dak might have saved you for the wrong reason. I have to admit, even though he’s my friend, he’s a bullheaded man. But he’s a man with a heart, a soul, and a conscience. I bet if you tell him how you’re feeling, he’ll listen.”

  “But I don’t know what to say. I thought he would be the Dom of my dreams,” Rebekah continued, wiping her face.

  “He still could be. Even in the vanilla world, relationships require work. Just give him a chance. Maybe it’s something you two could work out.”

  After all of the hard work Rebekah had put into changing her life, her perception…could she forgive him that easily? If she did, would that make her the same slave who felt she deserved to be treated horribly for past sins?

  She rubbed her hand over her neck, empty of a collar of any kind. Dak had offered to give her one. Would he still make that offer now if she went back to him, or had he already moved on with his life? Only one way to find out.

  ****

  Despite the chilling rain, Dak continued thwacking away with an ax on logs behind his house. He had to release his aggression somehow. Making toothpicks out of stately oak trees seemed to be a good form of therapy.

  With each hit, he had hoped to erase the memory of Rebekah from his thoughts. Just recalling her face, her body, those magnetic eyes, put him in a tailspin.

  Dak took a momentary break and glanced up as he attempted to catch his breath. Directly in front of him stood the two trees he had strung Rebekah between. Instantly the memory of him playing with her with the dowel flooded his thoughts.

  “Fuck!” Dak grabbed the ax handle.

  At a full charge, he steamed toward one of the trees. With only a few hard chops, he managed to
take down the small tree. Seeing it up would dredge up too many bad memories. He had enough nightmares that tortured him.

  Dak ran his hand over his head and turned to attack the second tree. From the corner of his eye, he saw Moira standing in the middle of his backyard underneath a white umbrella with the name of the hospital where she worked stamped on the top.

  Dak waved a dismissive hand at her. “I know what you’re going to say, Moira.” His soaked flannel jacket weighed him down. “You’re going to say that you told me to admit her to one of those facilities, and this is what I get for not doing that. You’re going to say that Rebekah really doesn’t love me. That it’s some sort of Stockholm Syndrome or whatever you shrinks, uh, psychiatrists call it. You’re going to say that I need to get over it.”

  Moira shifted her weight to her other foot as she stared at him.

  “I can’t get over her.” Dak shook his head. “I love her.” Then, to make Moira truly see that he meant every word, he stormed to her, and stood directly in front of her. Rain dripped from his head and the tip of his nose. “I love her. I can’t go a day or even a minute without thinking about her. She’s talented and she’s smart and she’s funny. She makes love like no one I’ve ever been with before.” He noticed Moira’s eyes widened at that declaration. Dak couldn’t stop talking. “BDSM or not, she’s the woman that completes me. And I’ve been fighting myself to keep from trying to find her and drag her back her to my house and make her see that I’m the best one for her.”

  Moira put her hand on her hip like she started to lecture him.

  “But I’ve learned that I need to listen to people. I admit. I don’t do that very well and it’s cost me dearly. If Rebekah doesn’t want me, I have to respect that. But damn, it hurts so much. I think I would rather be strung up on a St. Andrew’s cross and have hot wax poured over me than to go through what I’m going through right now.”

  He exhaled and paced in front of Moira. The key to gaining his life back, he had to respect what Rebekah had told him and allow her some space. If she came back, he would be the most appreciative man on the planet. If she didn’t, it would crush him. He would have to learn to move on.