Filthy Commitments: A Submissives’ Secrets Novel

by Michelle Love

  She steeled herself for the scene upstairs in ICU but when she got there all was quiet. Mac and Jean had left for the evening, and Grady was sitting in with Flori. He was holding her hand, and as Asia watched, he brought the unconscious girl’s hand to his mouth and pressed his lips against it. Oof, gut punch, Asia thought wincing. But something in her understood, told her this had been inevitable ever since Flori had come into their lives. She’d known from the first time she’d seen Grady and Flori together.

  Neither of them has any clue, she thought to herself now. She stood back, just watching Grady sit with the young woman, watching his expression as he watched her sleep. Love. Whether Grady realized it, their relationship— his and Asia’s—had just ended with that tiny gesture, that kiss against the soft skin of Flori’s hand.

  And Asia didn’t feel as sad as she should have.

  Jakob picked at his food while around him, his family chatted and laughed. Only his adored girlfriend, Quilla, looked as subdued and tired as he did. She was working long hours at the college, hoping to make up for some of the negative publicity she thought she had brought them. Her professor had called Jakob to express his concern at Quilla’s state of mind, but Quilla had dismissed his worries, even got a little angry that she was being discussed behind her back. It had caused a rift between Quilla and Jakob and he was at a loss for how to mend it.

  Marley Griffin, finally persuaded to join the party, met his gaze, and he saw her frown and nod almost imperceptibly at Quilla. He shook his head. Not here. Marley sighed, and when Quilla excused herself to go to the bathroom, Marley scooted into her vacant chair at Jakob’s side.

  “That’s not my friend,” she said bluntly. “My friend is funny and loving and excited about life, even when she feels crap. Have you suggested therapy?”

  Jakob gave a humorless laugh. “Many, many times. She just shuts down on me. Look, I know you and I have had our differences, but please, help me. You’ve known her longer than I have, you can ...”

  “… tell it to her straight,” Marley finished for him, looking grim-faced. Jakob laughed softly.

  “Right.”

  Marley studied. “I’m working on my anger issues with you,” she said, her voice softening. “I know it wasn’t your fault she was stabbed. I just, God, I felt so helpless. We’re each other’s family, you know? I don’t know what a world without her would be like.”

  “Then we have more in common than you think,” Jakob said gently. “I just don’t know how to reach her.”

  Marley gave a frustrated sigh. “Just keep on loving her no matter what. I’ll be the bad cop, and we’ll see if that has any effect.”

  Quilla washed her hands, avoiding her reflection in the vast mirrors of the restaurant bathroom. She hated looking at herself now; her eyes always seemed wild, scared, and angry. She had tried to analyze what was making her feel like she was on a tightrope without a net. It was him, Gregor; his obsession had become her obsession. She wanted to deal with him herself but knew, frustrated, that it wasn’t likely to happen that way. She had even, not to Jakob’s knowledge, given her security detail the slip and gone out in the open, wondering if he was watching her, then, if he would strike, if she could drive the knife she hid in her pocket into his heart and be done with this horror forever.

  She scared herself. Never, in her life, would she ever have considered harming another human being, but her shredded nerves and fragile mindset made her sure she could kill Gregor if it came down to it.

  She dried her hands then stopped, leaning her forehead against the cool tile. She was losing it, she knew it, but sheer orneriness kept her from asking for help. You are not a victim, she said to herself. Grady’s friend had it much, much worse than you did. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. She needed something, to reconnect with Jakob, to spend time with Marley and Asia and Nan—her friends, her sisters.

  She drew in a deep breath and went back out to rejoin the party. She smiled at Jakob, and his delighted grin broke her heart. She pressed her lips against his. “I love you, Mr. Mallory.”

  She felt his big body relax into the embrace. “Me too, Miss Chen, and when we get home, I’ll show you just how much.”

  She grinned, then smiled over at Marley, who was watching them. Marley’s mouth hitched up in a knowing grin. “Strumpet”, she mouthed at her friend, and Quilla laughed, giving her the thumbs up.

  Maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

  “Okay, Floriana, I’m going to ask you to open your eyes now.”

  Flori stirred and slowly, very slowly, she opened her eyes, the lids gummy, sticky with sleep. The bright light assaulted her vision, and she clamped them shut again and moaned.

  “It’s okay, Flori, I’m sorry, we’ll draw the blinds … nurse, could you …? Thanks. Now, how about we try that again, Flori?” He had such a lovely, melodic voice. She opened her eyes and looked into the face of the dark-haired man leaning over her and smiling.

  “Hey there,” he said with a smile. “I’m Dr. Thomas. How are you feeling?”

  “Thirsty.” The words came out as a whisper. Someone was moistening her mouth, then holding a cup to her lips. She gulped down the cold water gratefully, not taking her eyes from the handsome doctor. “Where … am?” she said in broken words; her head felt fuzzy, and she couldn’t find the right words. “I am … no … where?”

  He smiled, but his eyes registered concern. “In hospital, sweetheart. Do you remember what happened?”

  Pain. A fist being slammed into her face, him, straddling her. The knife. Pain. A whimper escaped her.

  “It’s okay, darling. We’re here.”

  “Mom?” Her mother came into her field of vision and Flori’s eyes filled with tears. “Mom ...” Her voice cracked, then her vision was blurry because of the tears. Dr. Thomas smiled and stepped aside to let her father come in and hug her. As she embraced her parents, she saw him. Grady, standing at the end of the bed, smiling through his tears.

  The police were kind, but after two hours of questioning, she was exhausted. She’d sent her mom and dad back to the hotel; You don’t need to hear this, she’d told them. Relieved when they’d agreed, she was glad to have Grady by her side. He’d wrapped his arm around her shoulders and now, when she was drooping from telling them everything she remembered, over and over—he stepped in. “Okay, gents, Flori needs to rest now.”

  Alone, he perched on the side of her bed, cradling her in his arms. She leaned into his big body, relaxing her tensed shoulders. Her body ached and felt heavy from the dressings. They told her what he’d done to her, the man, her boss … whose name she now knew. She’d identified Gregor Fisk from his photographs; in the glossy shots, he looked handsome, respectable, and business-like. She’d seen the devil within, the feral creature who had stabbed her repeatedly and left her dying in a pool of her own hot, sticky blood. Gregor Fisk.

  “I’m so sorry, Grady,” she whispered now and Grady, frowning, moved so he could look at her.

  “Why are you apologizing to me? If anything, I should be begging for your forgiveness.”

  “Why?” she coughed, her throat still raw from the tubes, and Grady immediately reached for the water glass at her side. She took a sip. “I took the job; you had no way of knowing.”

  “Neither did you. Look, this fucker has been targeting us since Jakob fired him and ...” He trailed off, staring at her as if seeing her for the first time.

  “What?” She raised her eyebrows—painfully—at him.

  He shook his head. “I never saw it before … you look like her.”

  Flori didn’t get it. “Who?”

  “Quilla. Dark hair, slight, your eye color is different but not by much, both beautiful, both art students … God, that sick fuck.”

  “I still don’t understand.”

  Grady sighed, twisted his fingers in with hers. “Fisk targeted you to send us a message. God, Flori, I’m so sorry I didn’t see it.”

  “How could you have? It’s insane.” Flo
ri shifted uncomfortably; the last morphine shot was wearing off. Grady stroked his hand down her face, and Flori leaned into his touch.

  “Hey there.”

  They both looked up to see Asia watching them from the doorway. She was smiling, but there was something else in her eyes. A resigned look, sadness. She came in and kissed Flori’s cheek. “How are you feeling?”

  Flori smiled at her. “Better. I think.”

  Asia squeezed her hand. “Well, look, I have to go back to Seattle for a couple of days, so take care of yourself, won’t you? I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

  Grady followed Asia into the corridor. “You didn’t mention going back to Seattle.”

  Asia smiled sadly. “I did, actually, a couple of times. Look, Grady, maybe this is a good thing, get some space, figure out where we want to go from here. We never made a commitment to each other that was anything more than friends with benefits.”

  Grady’s eyes were hurt, confused. “What? I don’t get it … are you breaking up with me?”

  Asia chuckled softly, shaking her head. “You really don’t see it, do you? Grady, you are my best friend, and you will always be that to me. But I think your heart lies elsewhere.” She deliberately glanced back into Flori’s room. Grady suddenly understood.

  “No … Flori’s my friend; I thought you understood that … .it has nothing to do with us.”

  She suddenly grabbed him, hugging him hard. “It has everything to do with us, my sweet,” she whispered. Then, dashing away a tear, she smiled up at him. “You deserve a chance at real love. And so do I. When you think about it, you’ll realize.”

  Grady kept shaking his head. “No, this … this is real, you and me. I’ve waited so long for this to happen.”

  “I know, I know, and I will never regret what has happened between us. Never,” she said fiercely. “But I can’t be a portion of someone’s love, and I am not blaming you or Flori because I know neither of you realizes it yet. Try, Grady, and I swear you’ll understand what I’m saying. She is your heart, not me.”

  He was silent then, his mind whirling. Asia kissed him softly. “Goodbye, Grady. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

  As she started to walk away, he called her name. As she turned, he looked into her eyes. “If you’re so sure, why are you coming back in a couple of days?”

  She smiled. “Because Flori’s my friend, too, and so are you. I’ll be here as long as you both need me.”

  She could feel him watching her walk away. As she pressed the call button, she willed him to go back to Flori’s side, not make this harder—although there was still part of her that wished he’d come for her, beg her to stay. A small part. But not her whole heart.

  Because over the last few weeks, Asia had realized that Grady wasn’t her future. He would always be in her life, but lately, there had been someone else, someone she’d grown close to, met for coffee every day, sometimes, twice a day. Someone with the bluest, sexiest eyes she’d ever seen.

  She headed for the hospital cafeteria now, walked in, and saw him.

  Parker Thomas looked up and with obvious delight in his eyes, he stood and smiled at her.

  Marley waited until Quilla was strapped into the car. Her friend grinned at her, but Marley could see the dark purple shadows under her eyes.

  “So where are you taking me?”

  Marley smiled. “Not telling. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

  Quilla smiled. “Fair enough. How have you been, Marls?”

  “I’m fine,” she said, concentrating on the road. “Have you been sleeping better?”

  “A little.” She was lying, Marley could always tell, and she shot her a look. Quilla shrugged. “You know how it is.”

  Marley pursed her lips. She and Jakob had spent hours on the phone trying to figure out how to help her but at last Markey had said, “Right, screw all this, I’m just going to take her to a therapist myself and use extreme emotional blackmail.”

  Which is what she was doing now. Twenty minutes later, they pulled into the underground car park of a tall office building, Quilla looking confused. Marley parked the car and turned to her friend.

  “What’s going on?” Quilla was studying her face, her eyes wary.

  Marley’s face was set. “Upstairs, on the third floor is an office. In that office is one the world’s best—and most expensive—psychiatrists. He specializes in PTSD in victims of violence. You are booked in for a course of sessions with him. You will attend every single one of them. Either Jakob or I will bring you, to make sure you attend them.”

  Quilla was staring at her in horror. “You cannot be serious—who do you think you are? Both you and Jakob need to realize I’m not a child. Switch the engine on and let’s leave.”

  “I haven’t finished.” Marley’s voice was hard now. “If you miss even a minute of a session, that’s it. I’m done. You will never see me again. Ever.”

  Quilla’s eyes were filled with tears. “Please don’t make me do this,” she whispered, “I can’t. I can’t relive that night.”

  “You’re reliving it every minute! Do you think we can’t see that? And it’s destroying you, and Jakob, and me and everyone that cares for you.”

  Quilla was getting more agitated by the second. “For God’s sake, of course I’m upset. He’s still out there! And he wants to kill me. A man I barely know wants to kill me. Wouldn’t you be …?” Her voice cracked then, and she turned her head so Marley couldn’t see her tears. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Because I love you,” Marley said, softening her tone. “Because you need this. This will help you get stronger, mentally, so you can deal with this other crap.”

  “This other crap meaning death threats,” Quilla snapped. She dropped her head into her hands. “I don’t believe what you’re doing to me. I can’t believe it. Please, Marley, I ...”

  “No more talking. Get out of the car, get into that elevator, and get the help you desperately need.”

  Quilla stared at her. “I’ll never forgive you for this.” But she got out of the car, slamming it shut, and went to the elevator. A few moments later, Marley’s phone beeped. A text message from the psychiatrist’s assistant.

  She’s in.

  Marley let out a huge sigh of relief … then burst into tears.

  “You’re cheating.”

  “I am not.”

  “You are. You’re rocking the table so that ...”

  The Jenga tower collapsed and Flori groaned, swatting at a grinning Grady. “I told you.”

  “Sore loser,” he chuckled as he swept the pieces back into the box. Flori was looking so much better; the six weeks since the attack had flown by. Grady had spent every hour he could with her, apart from when her mom was with her, not wanting to intrude.

  Her father had returned to Portland, work calling him back after a couple of weeks, but by then, they knew Flori would be fine. A long recovery time, yes, but essentially, she would return to full health within a few months. Grady had assured her parents and Flori that all the medical expenses would be taken care of—as well as Flori’s college fund. Flori had protested, but Grady would not hear of anything else.

  “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you,” he’d said earnestly and now, as he looked at her lovely face, so delicately featured, so expressive and warm, he knew that to be true. What Asia had said to him all those weeks ago had made his whole outlook on the world change. She was right—he had fallen in love with Flori. Completely and utterly.

  But he was afraid. Afraid of the age difference between them, afraid she would not feel the same way, afraid that if she knew his true feelings, she would feel beholden to him. And God, the thought of that made him feel sick. He wanted her, yes, but only if she wanted him back without condition or hesitation. So he kept his feelings to himself—for the most part. He had a feeling Jean, Flori’s mother, could read him like a book. She reminded him so much of his own mother, so kind, and nurturing.

  Flori was h
arder to read. She certainly welcomed him, treated him as her best friend—and that made him a little gun-shy after what Asia had said—but he couldn’t tell if she felt anything more for him. They were always holding hands, or touching the other’s face, or hugging, but then, Flori was a very tactile person.

  Asia had kept her promise and had been back to see them, not showing any resentment or giving Flori any clue to why she and Grady were no longer together. Flori had asked Grady what their deal was when she was on a lot of morphine, and he’d told her they were just friends.

  “Sexy friends,” Flori had mumbled, just before she fell asleep and Grady had smiled sadly. The more time he spent away from Asia, he realized she had right. Maybe their brief love affair had been just the blissful, short way to resolve unfinished business.

  “Earth to Grady,” Flori said now with a grin. She stroked his face. “Beardy.”

  Grady grinned, leaning into her touch. “Want me to shave?”

  She shook her head. “Nah, you look good with a beard. So good, you’re making me jealous. I sometimes wish it was socially acceptable for women to have beards. I’d rock a little goatee.”

  Grady laughed. “That medication you’re on is really something, huh?”

  She smiled. “Actually, at the moment, no pain meds. I’m riding it out. Better for recovery, so I don’t strain any core muscles when the morphine fools me into thinking they don’t hurt.” She winced then and laughed. “Like that.”

  Grady frowned. “But if you’re in pain, surely …?”

  She shook her head. “Only when I move awkwardly. I’ve got so used to being in pain that now that it’s just general soreness, I think I feel great. Maybe they’ll let me out soon.”

  She looked hopeful, and Grady grinned. “Keep dreaming. But I wanted to ask, what are your plans for when you do get out? Will you go back to Portland?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I think I’m going to transfer my college credits to somewhere else, start over.”