Dark Lessons

by Julia Sykes

  Natalie’s screams ripped through my chest, clawing at my heart. One second, she’s been crying out my name in ecstasy, and then next, she was shrieking in unmistakable agony. Her eyes were open wide, but she wasn’t looking at me. They were glazed over, staring at some horror I couldn’t imagine.

  I quickly freed her from the restraints, leaving the cuffs locked in place but unhooking the chains that connected them to the bedposts. I didn’t want to waste time fiddling with the small padlocks that kept the leather wrapped around her wrists and ankles, but I had to get her free so I could cradle her in my arms.

  She thrashed and writhed, moaning in horror. I clutched her tightly against my chest, pinning her arms at her sides as I held her close.

  “You’re okay,” I tried to reassure her, but my voice broke.

  Had I done this to her? All I’d wanted was to give her pleasure and coax out her submission, to remind her of our connection. I wanted her to put her trust in me and tell me her secrets, but I’d managed to push her into a waking nightmare instead.

  Was this what I’d been like when I used to have PTSD episodes? Trapped within the horrors in my own head?

  My blood ran cold. If Natalie was having an episode, something terrible had happened to her. What had she suffered in the last five years that she would react this way when I pushed her to let go? Was this why she’d resisted me? Because she feared that if she gave up control, she’d be lost to darkness?

  “I’m sorry, kitten,” I murmured against her hair. My eyes burned, and regret twisted my gut. “I’m so sorry. Come back to me. Please.”

  Slowly, her thrashing calmed, leaving her shaking in my arms. She closed her eyes and began whispering something I didn’t understand.

  “And then my heart with pleasure fills. And then my heart with pleasure fills.” Over and over again, she recited the words.

  “Natalie?” I prompted, struggling for a calm, even tone. “Natalie. Look at me.”

  She blinked, and her gorgeous sapphire eyes focused on me at last. I heaved a sigh of relief and pressed a kiss against her forehead.

  “I’m sorry,” I said again. “I had no idea…” I trailed off, unable to put the magnitude of my sin into words.

  Her brows drew together, and she touched my cheek with her soft fingertips. “What are you sorry for?”

  “I didn’t mean to push you so hard,” I said. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

  One corner of her lips ticked up in a wry smile. “You didn’t hurt me.”

  My arms tightened around her. Something was wrong. Although her cheeks were still wet with tears, her eyes were clear. There was no hint of fear or distress in her countenance. She appeared eerily serene.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you,” I said carefully. “You were screaming.”

  She stared up at me. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Was it possible that she didn’t recall her episode because it was too traumatic for her conscious mind to face? I wasn’t sure if that was how this worked. She was the psychologist, not me. My own experience with PTSD hadn’t prepared me for what I’d just witnessed. I’d suffer through the panic and fear that used to grip me a thousand times over if it meant I never had to hear Natalie scream like that ever again.

  I cuddled her closer, unable to put a millimeter of space between our bodies.

  “What were you saying?” I pressed gently. “When you started to calm down. ‘And then my heart with pleasure fills.’ What does that mean?”

  She stiffened. “I don’t know.” Suddenly, she shook her head as though to clear it. When her eyes found mine again, they were beseeching. “You have to let me go, Jason.”

  Fury threatened to rise again, driving me back toward madness.

  “Not happening,” I refused her. “I’m sorry I pushed you to…” I couldn’t put the horrible episode into words. “I’m sorry. But you’re staying here with me. I’m going to take care of you.”

  I still needed answers about where she’d been and what she was doing with Moreno’s people, but that could wait. It was imperative that I convince her that she was safe with me, and I feared that I might push her into her trauma again if I pressed too hard. We had to establish trust again.

  I’d start by proving to her that I could care for her, just as I’d promised. Keeping her cradled in my arms, I retrieved a small coil of rope from the nightstand drawer. She kept her face tucked against my chest, and I was grateful she didn’t seem to notice it. I didn’t like the idea of restraining her again after her distress, but I’d do what was necessary to keep her with me until I could figure out what the hell was going on with her and where she’d been for the last five years.

  I continued to hold her as I stood and began to walk out of my bedroom.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked, and the tremor in her voice nearly broke me. I never wanted her to be afraid of me.

  “I’m going to get you something to eat.” I moved us into the open plan living room/kitchen and settled her down in a chair at my small dining table. I stayed in her personal space for a few seconds longer, debating. She studied me with equal intensity, and I could practically see her mind working to devise a way to escape me. I didn’t understand why she so desperately wanted to get away from me. It pained me like a knife to my heart, but I was beginning to understand that there might be good reasons why my kitten was skittish now.

  “Do I need to tie you to this chair while I feed you?” I asked, barely managing to keep my shame from coloring my tone. I’d meant it when I told her I wasn’t letting her go, no matter what I had to do to bind her to me. I didn’t want to traumatize her further, but I wouldn’t risk her escape. I’d lived without her for far too long. Now that she was back in my life, I’d die before I let her leave me again.

  When she didn’t answer, I settled into grim determination. I uncoiled the rope that was wrapped around my wrist. She eyed it with unease, noticing it for the first time. I captured her jaw in my free hand, gently lifting her face so she had to look into my eyes.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” I promised. “But I can’t trust you right now. I want to take care of you. I wish you’d let me.” I finished on a strained whisper. “Why do you keep trying to run from me?”

  She bit her lip and cut her eyes away. I firmed my grip on her jaw, redirecting her gaze to mine.

  “I don’t want you to get hurt,” she finally said, her eyes tight with desperation.

  A low, humorless laugh left my chest. “You already ripped my heart out when you died. You can’t hurt me worse than that. And now that I know you’re alive, I won’t allow you to leave me again. I won’t give you the opportunity to try to fight your way free.” I began to loop the rope through the D-rings attached to the cuffs around her wrists, binding her arms together behind the back of the chair. “You’re going to accept my protection and tell me your secrets. Whatever you’re scared of, I’ll keep you safe. You used to trust me. You still can. The only way for you to hurt me now is to leave me.”

  “Not me,” she said quietly. “I’d never hurt you. That’s why you have to let me go. You’re not safe with me.”

  I finished tying her in place and crouched beside her so I could look into her eyes, wishing I could look straight through them into her soul and learn her secrets.

  “What do you mean?” I asked. “If you’re in danger and you’re worried it’ll affect me, I don’t give a shit. I’ll arrange protection for you. Whatever you were doing with Moreno’s men, I can keep you safe from them.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not working with them. I’m black ops, Jason. You can’t get involved in my world.”

  I sucked in a breath. Natalie was black ops? That would explain what she was doing getting involved with scum like Moreno.

  But it still didn’t explain why she’d chosen to leave me all those years ago and start a new life as an operative. My heart twisted. I’d known Natalie was ambitious, but I’d never thought that ambition w
ould drive us apart. I would have done anything for her. I would have died for her. But she’d left me for a job.

  I stood and turned away from her so she couldn’t see the pain in my eyes.

  “Jason?” she asked tentatively. “Do you understand now? You have to let me go.”

  I didn’t look at her. Instead, I moved into the kitchen and set about preparing food for her.

  “You need to eat something,” I said. “We can talk after.”

  She sighed, but didn’t offer any further protest. I selected a mac and cheese micro-meal out of my freezer—the only food I had in stock. I wished I had something better to offer her, but I’d never bothered to learn to cook properly. My apartment was a place to eat and sleep. I lived for my job. It was the only time I could fool myself into thinking I was a good man. If I did good things, maybe I wasn’t the shell of a man who’d allowed the woman he loved to get killed while he helplessly watched.

  It had always been a fleeting fantasy, but it helped me stay sane. It helped keep me from using again.

  I wasn’t entirely without the aid of prescription drugs, though. The one I allowed myself was sleeping pills. It was the only way to get through the night without nightmares of watching Natalie die.

  I glanced over at her. I’d tied her so she was facing away from the kitchen. She wouldn’t see what I was doing.

  While the microwave emitted a soft buzzing sound, I slid three pills from the bottle and crushed them against the counter with the back of a spoon.

  I was uneasy about the idea of drugging her again, but I needed to talk to Sam without being overheard. I had to know what she’d found on Natalie. If my kitten were part of a black ops division, Sam would be skilled enough to hack into any database and uncover the truth. I needed to make the call to check in, but I didn’t dare take my eyes off Natalie for one second while she was awake and alert. She’d been formidable as a recruit. I could only imagine how skilled she was after training as an operative for years.

  I wouldn’t risk her getting away while my back was turned.

  When the microwave dinged, I removed the hot plastic container and placed it on a plate. Then I spooned the crushed pill powder into the dish and mixed it in. I hoped the salty flavor would mask any bitterness.

  I carried the steaming food over to the table and pulled up a chair beside hers. Her brows rose.

  “You cook like a bachelor,” she remarked.

  “Of course I’m a bachelor,” I said more harshly than I intended. “There’s never been anyone but you.” Jealous rage clawed at my insides. “Has there been anyone for you?” I demanded.

  Her eyes softened, and she jerked against her restraints, as though she wanted to reach for me. “Of course not. I still… I’ve always—”

  “You should eat.” I cut her off before she could say what I feared she might. If she told me she still loved me, I wasn’t at all sure I’d be able to maintain my tenuous control over myself. It was difficult enough holding myself back when I thought she’d chosen to leave me and didn’t want to be with me anymore. All I wanted to do was take her in my arms and make her mine again. I wanted to bury myself inside her and never let her leave my bed.

  But I couldn’t do that until she came clean, until there were no more secrets between us and I could trust her. If I claimed her again only to have her leave me at the first opportunity, what was left of my soul would wither and die.

  Her eyes dropped from mine, and her perfect lips twisted in sorrow. She appeared utterly defeated. I hated the sight of it, even though I knew I couldn’t risk freeing her from her bonds.

  If I couldn’t free her as she desired, I’d just have to prove to her that she could trust me. And that trust would be established as I took care of her.

  A dark part of me liked the idea of having her completely dependent on me, and a deviant surge of lust pulsed through my veins when I lifted a spoonful of pasta to her lips. The Dominant in me wanted her bound and helpless, relying on me to see to her every need. Even the simple act of feeding her brought me pleasure. After the long years of loneliness, I wanted to bind her to me in every way possible. She was still naked from when I’d stripped her in my bedroom, and the sight of her exposed, beautiful body tied in place while I was fully clothed in my suit affected me more than was healthy.

  I blew on the food to cool it so it wouldn’t burn her mouth. “Open up, kitten,” I urged, a gentle command, but a command nonetheless.

  She didn’t look at me, but her lips parted. I fed her in silence, not pressing her to talk. I simply enjoyed the act of nurturing her. Even in our messed up circumstances, she allowed me to look after her needs. If she was hungry, I’d feed her. If she needed a shower, I’d wash her. And if she needed pleasure, I could certainly see to that.

  As I fed her, I fell into my Dominant headspace, getting high off the power dynamic. There was nothing sexual about our interaction, but I felt greater pleasure than I had in all the years since I’d lost her. I took to it like a starving man to a feast, gorging myself on the perfection of her submission to me.

  When she finally finished the meal, I reluctantly set the dish aside, hesitant for the moment to end. She yawned.

  Fuck. I’d forgotten about the sleeping pills. I wasn’t ready for her to slip back into unconsciousness. Even though we weren’t talking, I craved her company.

  She blinked slowly, her lids growing heavy as she slumped forward. I caught her so her wrists didn’t strain against her restraints, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and curling my fingers beneath her chin so she looked up at me.

  When her eyes found mine, they were accusatory. “You drugged me,” she said thickly.

  “I did,” I responded calmly. “You can sleep, kitten. I’ll be right here with you the whole time.”

  “Why?” she asked faintly, her eyes sliding closed.

  I stroked her hair and waited a few more seconds, until her breathing turned deep and even as she fell into sleep.

  “Because I love you,” I admitted on a whisper.

  She didn’t respond in any way. That was for the best. I still wasn’t ready to hear her say the words. Not until the truth was revealed and I could trust her again.

  Resigned, I untied her and carried her limp form back into the bedroom. I laid her on the bed and unlocked the cuffs around her wrists. After a minute’s deliberation, I left one ankle cuffed and attached it to the chain on the bedpost. I was going to make my call in the next room, and I couldn’t risk Natalie stirring somehow when I wasn’t watching her.

  I took a few moments longer to drink in the sight of her perfect, naked body before covering her with blankets. I didn’t want her to get cold, even if I’d rather strip down and keep her warm with my own body heat.

  Not yet, I reminded myself. Honesty had to come first. Then I’d mark her with my cum and make her mine again.

  Tearing my gaze from her, I strode out of the bedroom, cracking the door behind me so the sound of my conversation with Sam would be muffled. I doubted Natalie would awaken anytime soon, but I didn’t want to take any chances. If she wouldn’t tell me the full truth about who she worked for and where she’d been, then I’d have to rely on Sam’s skills to get me the information I needed.

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket and connected the call. She answered immediately.

  “Jason. What’s going on? Is Natalie with you? I mean, your tracker says you’re at your apartment. And I, um, watched the CCTV feed when you went to her townhouse. So, yeah. I know she’s with you. But don’t worry. I erased the feed, like you asked.”

  She was talking a mile a minute, almost like a stream of consciousness rather than conversation.

  “What’s wrong?” I demanded. Sam wouldn’t be babbling unless she was nervous. “What did you find?”

  “Well, um, I looked into where Natalie’s been recently. It wasn’t easy. She has at least three aliases I uncovered, and that’s just in the last year. It looks like she’s been running drugs in South America.
”

  “She hasn’t,” I countered. “She told me she’s black ops. She’s been undercover.” I’d known my sweet kitten couldn’t be involved in Bliss trafficking. Nothing had made sense until she admitted she was an operative.

  “No, she hasn’t,” Sam said. “I thought of that. I’ve been digging through every FBI and CIA database there is. There’s no record of Natalie or any of her aliases. As far as the US government is concerned, she’s been dead for five years.”

  “That’s not possible. You didn’t dig deep enough.”

  “You know I’m too good to miss something that important,” Sam replied. “I dug as deep as I could go. If Natalie’s black ops, she’s not working for us. I can keep tracking where she’s been. I’ve only gotten back thirteen months so far, and she’s good at covering her tracks. Like, really good. She must have help.”

  “Yeah, from the CIA,” I asserted.

  “Stop it, Jason,” Sam said with uncharacteristic steel. “She’s not CIA. Pretending she is will get you nowhere. You want answers? I’m working on getting them for you. But you should probably ask her some questions yourself.”

  “You think I haven’t tried that?” I demanded. “What do expect me to do? Torture her?”

  “Of course not. Jesus, Jason. Get a grip. If you can’t handle this, I’ll go to Parkinson. I should have done that already, but I understand what… I didn’t want to… Well, I just didn’t want to,” she finished after stumbling over her words. Again, I wondered exactly why Sam was helping me behind the Director’s back, but I didn’t bother to press her about it. She was being decent enough not to question what I was doing with Natalie, so I wouldn’t pry into her painful secrets about her own heartbreak.

  “Thank you,” I said, genuinely grateful. “I can’t let Parkinson know Natalie’s alive. Not until we figure this out. If she really isn’t working for the US government, she’ll be arrested. I have to know I can protect her from whatever’s coming before we make our next move.”

  “I agree. I’ll keep looking into her activities.”

  “I’ll check in again tomorrow,” I promised and ended the call.