Double Vision

by L. M. Halloran

  I’ve known her a long time.

  A sick feeling takes ahold of me. Rolling over, I reach for my phone where it rests on the nightstand, my other hand yanking open the drawer below. My fingers close around a folded piece of paper. By the light of my screen, I reread Alexis’s note and the phone number at the bottom.

  Then I text her.

  are you available to talk? - Eden

  Three little dots undulate at the bottom of the screen.

  OMG! Is this my SISTER?!?! I’m calling right now! You’d better answer!!!

  I’m still wincing at the abundance of exclamation points when my phone starts vibrating. With an aimless prayer, I answer.

  “Alexis?”

  “OhmyGod, OhmyGod, is it really you? Eden?”

  For a pregnant moment, I sit frozen and blank, trying to reconcile the oddest experience of my life. Even with the innate difference in our speech, she sounds exactly like me.

  “Eden?”

  I clear my throat. “Hi, yes, it’s me.”

  Wherever she is, there’s a fair amount of background noise. A car door slams. Men’s voices rise and fade.

  “I can’t believe this,” squeals Alexis. “I need to see you! Where are you?”

  With your fiancé.

  “I’m, uh, staying with a friend in the Hollywood Hills.”

  “Sweet! We’re headed that way in a few, right, Chris?”

  I hear a familiar, accented voice. “Aye. Tell her we’ll be there in fifteen.”

  My heart stumbles and trips. “Um, I don’t think—”

  But Alexis isn’t listening. “You know where she is?” she demands. I hear a thud like she just smacked his chest or shoulder. “What’s wrong with you! Why didn’t you tell me? Whatever, you suck. Eden?”

  “Yeah, um, here’s the thing—”

  “I can’t wait to see you! Get ready for the biggest hug of your life!”

  She squeals and hangs up.

  From the doorway, Liam growls, “What the fuck have you done?”

  Five minutes later, I’m sitting mannequin-still on the living room couch while Liam paces before me. He’s been alternately cursing me and muttering to himself. Anger rolls off him in waves. The switchblade in his right hand clicks open and closed.

  Snick. Open. Snap. Closed.

  But I won’t apologize.

  “Did you think I’d just walk away and forget about her?”

  The eyes that swing to me are turbulent seas. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

  I throw up my hands. “Get what? That this whole situation is fucked? Yeah, I get it.”

  He laughs; it’s not a pleasant sound. “Things are a bit more than fucked, dove.”

  “Does Alexis know?” I ask mutedly. “About the arrangement you made with Maddoc?”

  “Yes,” he snaps.

  Breath leaves my lungs in a whoosh. “And she agreed?”

  “She doesn’t have a choice. Neither of us do, thanks to you.”

  I jerk to my feet. “Are you seriously blaming me for this? I suppose you blame me for wanting to go to UCLA, too? For showing up in this city in the first place?”

  He rounds on me, pointing at my chest with the closed switchblade. “Horrible fucking luck, it was. And you’re welcome, by the way, for making certain Maddoc didn’t know you were in his backyard the last four years!”

  I swallow my shock, package it for another day. “How long, exactly, have you known about me?” I ask carefully.

  His gaze falls from mine and he says gruffly, “Since your picture showed up in an Oregon newspaper after you won a speech competition.”

  My vision brightens. “That was sophomore year of high school,” I whisper. “You’ve kept my identity a secret all these years?”

  He nods. “And I would have continued doing so, but Maddoc was getting too close. One of his goons spotted you shopping on Melrose shortly before your graduation. My initial plan was to somehow frighten you enough that you ran back to Oregon. But once I had you, I didn’t want to let you go.”

  “Do you regret it? Regret me?”

  With a noise of frustration, Liam pockets his knife and closes the distance between us. He takes my face gently in his hands.

  “Even though it makes me a complete bastard, no, I don’t regret a second. Promise me something, dove. Promise me that when you go, you won’t look back. Forget me, forget Alexis, forget it all.”

  I shake my head, eyes burning with tears. “I can’t do that. You know I can’t.” Grabbing his wrists, I squeeze tightly. “Liam, come with me. Let’s run together. Somewhere they’ll never find us.”

  I’m hardly aware of what I’m saying, only that it comes from a fragile, hopeful part of my heart. Liam presses his forehead to mine; his sigh whispers across my lips.

  “I can’t.”

  When the cold shock of his words passes, I remember. “Your mother?”

  He nods. “She remarried some years ago. I have a half brother and sister back home.”

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I release his wrists. “I understand.”

  “Promise me you won’t look back.”

  My heart breaking, I nod. “I promise.”

  34

  Alexis and Chris never arrive.

  When we’ve waited forty-five minutes, Liam makes a call. It’s brief, and when he hangs up his shoulders are tight with tension.

  “What is it?” I ask nervously. “Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine. Christopher took her home. Maddoc’s orders.”

  “He doesn’t want us to meet,” I conclude flatly.

  “Not while I’m in the mix, I’m afraid.” Liam pinches the bridge of his nose. “All right, here’s what’s going to happen. Pack a bag. Bare essentials. I’ll give you money to cover what you’re leaving behind. You’ll be on the first flight tomorrow to Oregon.”

  “What—no!”

  “Yes,” he snaps, hand dropping. “This is over, Eden. Over! I thought… I thought I could protect you, but I can’t. Not from your own innocence and curiosity. Maddoc is a mercurial sonofabitch, and you need to be gone before he remembers how badly he wants you.”

  “My mother, you mean. Elizabeth. Whatever she took from him.”

  “She took you, Eden. But yes,” he huffs caustically, “I suppose I’m a larger prize.”

  My world darkens at the edges, its sun dimming as he moves further and further from reach.

  “This isn’t right!” I cry, tears finally coming, leaking fast from my eyes. I think of Alexis, but she’s mostly a phantom voice. Not real yet. But he is. I walk toward him. Toward the sun.

  “You’re mine, Liam. Not hers.”

  He smiles, but his eyes stay shadowed and distant. “You’ll find another, little dove. You’re young yet.”

  My hand stings. I stare at it, the pale surface, then at the red mark intensifying on his cheek. He doesn’t react, just watches me with his too-knowing eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, voice thick with regret. “Sorry for everything. Eden, I—” He swallows the words, shaking his head, then turns on a heel and ascends the stairs.

  Calm. Graceful. Powerful.

  Not mine. But if I’m honest, I always knew he couldn’t be. Not for long, anyway.

  My packed bag sits on the end of my bed. A few pairs of underwear. Some jeans, shirts, and a sweatshirt. Toiletries and the laptop I haven’t opened in weeks. I’ve just showered, and my wet hair hangs limp and tangled down my back. My phone is dark in my hand, but lights up when I press the home button.

  I read the short text message from an unknown number for the fiftieth time.

  Stay away from her.

  Is the message from Chris, or another man in the employ of my father? Or is it from the man himself, Maddoc Donnelly? If it did come from him, I now have my answer as to whether he gives a shit about his long-lost daughter.

  I don’t feel any relief at the thought of escaping. None at all. Beneath a layer of numbness is a maelstrom of emotion. Like
a Kraken under calm waters, there’s a shifting deep within as chaos rises.

  How am I supposed to move forward with my life? What a fucking joke. There’s no moving past this. No forgetting this, despite my promise to Liam. Does he really think I can just move to Seattle as planned, go to med school and become a doctor, live a normal life?

  There’s no life without sunlight.

  A cascade of unwanted visions paints my closed eyelids—Liam and Alexis. Alexis and Liam. Maybe in the dark, she’ll feel just like me. Maybe she’ll feel better, even. Maybe she’s better in the way that he needs. A perfect sub in and out of the bedroom.

  I don’t want you to be anyone other than who you are.

  Maybe he’ll forget me.

  With that thought, a dark need possesses my limbs. I toss my phone onto the bed and stand. Leaving my hair as it is, I slip out of my robe. Cool air skates across my exposed skin.

  The soles of my feet tingle on carpet as I walk from the bedroom, down the shadowed hallway toward the dim outline of his door.

  I don’t knock. The knob turns silently in my shaking fingers. I take one step, two steps, then drop to my knees and bow my head. No lights are on, but I know he’s here. I can feel him.

  An eternity passes before he speaks.

  “No, Eden.”

  My breath releases harshly; my fingers clench. “Please, sir.”

  “Why?” he asks, sounding forlorn, so lost. Just as I am.

  “Because I need it, sir.”

  He laughs, so softly it’s little more than huffs of air. “Such a demanding, selfish little dove.”

  “You like it.”

  “I suppose I do,” he muses. “Did you know there are Doms who specifically want subs who talk back?”

  I swallow. “Are you one of them?”

  “Until you, no.” He pauses; fabric whispers as he stands from the bed. “I won’t go outside your limits, but I’ll push them. Maybe further than you want. I’m not in a peaceful headspace at the moment.”

  “I serve to please you, sir.”

  “What’s your safe word?”

  “Clover.”

  He hesitates, the seesaw of power dipping and rising between us. My surrender. And finally, his.

  “On all fours, dove. Crawl to the dresser. Bottom drawer. Two lengths of rope. Flogger. Clamps. Black beads. Carry them in your teeth. Don’t drop them.”

  He’s the sun, dissolving my darkness and filling me with molten light.

  35

  It’s not easy carrying the toys in my teeth, my mouth stretched so wide my jaw aches. Liam doesn’t speak, not words of approval or any others, as I crawl to him and sit back on my heels.

  One at a time, he removes each piece from my mouth. The flogger’s smooth, leather-encased handle. Then his birthday gift, the petite clamps hanging from a delicate chain. The two ropes, their ends wet from my saliva. Finally, he takes the string of beads, each one popping as it’s freed from my cheek.

  “Let’s get you ready, dove.”

  He doesn’t have to give me instructions—I know what he wants. I turn on my knees and lower onto my forearms. Deep, even breaths help me relax, help ease the instinctive desire to clench.

  A fingertip circles my clitoris, teasing and light and unexpected. Another finger dips inside me, swirling lazily, building my arousal until I can hear my own wetness. My hips lift instinctively, seeking more, deeper pressure.

  “Greedy,” he murmurs.

  The word is all the warning I have before the flogger comes down hard on my ass. I yelp. He doesn’t soothe the sting with his hand like he normally does. Instead, he whacks me again right as he inserts the first bead in my ass.

  “Oh, fuck,” I groan.

  Another blow, harder this time. Hard enough that tears spring to my eyes, that I clench around the bead. The fullness makes me hotter, wetter. Liam dips fingers inside me, dragging the lubrication up to the beads.

  “What do you say, dove?”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Another bead, slightly larger. Fingertips whisper down my spine. Every one of my senses is alive, razor-sharp. He owns them—me.

  I press my forehead hard to the floor, breathing through the burning sensation of the final, largest bead.

  “Good girl.”

  He strokes me with both hands, shoulders to hips. Over and over, soothing the beast inside me. The beast in him. It normally takes more than a few slaps to the ass and some beads to push me into a euphoric state. But not tonight. The immense relief I feel at his touch catalyzes my transition.

  “Sweet dove. Already floating, are you? I’m not even a little bit done with you yet.”

  “Yes, sir,” I choke out.

  His hands retract; seconds later, I feel pressure on my nipples. Hear the sweet tinkling of the silver chain connecting the clamps.

  “God, I love you like this,” he whispers, giving the chain a little tug. The fiery sensation doesn’t hurt—not here, not in the ocean of my calm mind where pain and pleasure coexist.

  “Will you fuck me now, sir?”

  “No.”

  “Please,” I beg.

  “Keep asking and all you’ll get is a redder ass. Stand up, dove. Carefully. On the bed.”

  I am careful, waiting through mild dizziness as the blood rushes away from my head. The hard paleness of his chest gleams through his unbuttoned shirt. I want to touch him so badly my fingers clench, my gaze lowering. He’s erect behind his zipper; my mouth waters.

  “You want this?” he asks, palming his cock. I nod. “Where do you want it, dove?”

  “Everywhere, sir,” I whisper.

  With a harsh grunt, he undoes his belt and lowers the zipper. “On your knees.”

  I fall, my mouth already opening, ready to receive him. My jaw in his fingers, he sighs.

  “Take a breath.”

  I do. He works himself down my throat and stills. When I don’t immediately gag, I feel a warm swell of satisfaction. Pride at my accomplishment. He strokes my cheek gently as he draws back.

  “One more. Longer this time.”

  I suck air swiftly through my nose, as much as my lungs can take. He plunges back down my throat, this time holding my head firmly against him. His hips rock a few times, forcing him impossibly deep.

  “Sweet, sweet dove.”

  Just when the need for oxygen turns from a knock to a sledgehammer, he pulls out. I cough, gasping. Pain makes a brief appearance—my nipples, my ass. Squeezing my eyes shut, I count to ten. Slowly, my body relaxes.

  “Up. On your back.”

  I need another few moments, but he doesn’t give them to me. Fingers clenched in my hair, he drags me to my feet. I scramble up to avoid losing strands.

  “Eden.”

  My eyes flash up to his; the edge of his passion is blunted by concern. It makes me smile.

  “Green.”

  He lifts me by the waist and throws me in one smooth movement. I land hard on the bed, bouncing a little, the pressure in my ass suddenly intense. I barely have time to process the new feelings before his mouth covers my clit. He suckles me. Then uses his teeth.

  I cry out at the sharp pain, then whimper as his tongue relieves it. Then the cycle begins again. Again and again, he bites down, licks. Bite. Lick. When I clutch his head to hold him there, he drags my wrists away from our bodies.

  “Grab your ankles.”

  I don’t want to, but I obey.

  Here, I always obey.

  “Please, sir, make me come.”

  “Patience, dove,” he murmurs as he rises to his feet. His eyes are drunk with desire as they roam my body. I watch him undress, unable to withhold my soft cries. My universe is simple and pure.

  I’m empty. He fills me.

  I need him.

  Once naked, Liam grabs the ropes and binds each of my wrists to its corresponding ankle. When he’s done, he sits back on his heels to survey his work.

  I tremble uncontrollably. His palms smooth up the taut muscles of my
inner thighs. His eyes find mine.

  “Please, sir, please—”

  He pulls off the nipple clamps, and I scream as circulation returns in a rush, scream again as he thrusts inside me. He’s merciless, hands squeezing and pinching my breasts as he slides in and out. Hard. Harder.

  The sound our bodies make is music.

  Perfect music.

  Fingers surround my throat, pressing down. Slowly decreasing my oxygen, so slowly, until I feel every heartbeat in my ears, across every inch of my skin. In my clit, my ass, my cervix as he pounds against it. The pleasure is so acute I almost want to pass out. It’s too much.

  Too fucking much.

  “Now, Eden,” he snarls, releasing my throat.

  I’m more than conditioned to obey him—I want to obey with every fiber of my being. I climax so hard, so long, that for an eternity of moments, I lose all sense of time and place. There is only him. I revel in the freedom of it, in giving him all of myself. He’s in control so I don’t have to be.

  As the last pulses of my orgasm fade, he pulls out, then lowers to dip his tongue into my mouth.

  Giving my lips a tug with his teeth, he whispers, “Mine. I want all of it tonight.”

  I nod in acceptance. “Yes, sir,” I breathe. “I’m yours.”

  His eyes close briefly; he draws a shallow breath. Then he rises above me, one hand sliding beneath me to angle my pelvis upward. I feel a tug, and one by one the beads slip out of my ass.

  My pulse speeds in mingled fear and anticipation. I close my eyes, focusing on the press of his hand beneath me, the languor of release still coursing through my limbs.

  Cool liquid slides down the crack of my ass. One finger goes in, then another.

  “Breathe in and out. Slow and deep.”

  As the breath fills my lungs, his fingers withdraw. And when I exhale, he slides inside me. I have two seconds to absorb the mind-shattering fullness, the alien but not entirely unpleasant sensation. Then he begins to move.

  “Oh God, oh God,” I chant.

  “Look at me, dove.”

  Opening my eyes is a battle, but I manage. Ambient light from the windows illuminates his left side while the other is shadowed. Half angel, half devil. But the look on his face tells me all of him is mine.