Beyond Addiction

by Desiree Holt

  “Then why—”

  “Because I have to break this hold he has on my mind, Claire! Be able to see him and hear him without being hypnotized and seduced over and over again!”

  Claire was silent for a moment. “This could be very dangerous for you,” she warned.

  Fallon sighed. “No more than constantly running into him and having him infect every bit of my life. I need to be done with it once and for all.” She paused a moment. “And if I can’t leave him myself, then I deserve him. Deserve whatever he hands out.”

  “Honey, he’s an abuser. You know that.”

  “And what is it they always say about abused women? They’re enablers. I don’t want to be an enabler any longer. I want to be my own person.”

  More silence.

  “How I can help?” Claire asked at last. “You already knew I’d hate this idea. You knew I’d try to talk you out of it. So you must have called for some other reason. Tell me what I can do, honey.”

  Fallon sighed. “I just—I think I need a safety net. In case.”

  “In case of what?” Claire’s voice was edged with concern.

  “I just need to be sure that if I call, I can count on you to come get me. Wherever I am.”

  “Fallon—”

  “If I can leave him, it has to be my choice this time. Not because you yanked me out of there. Otherwise he’ll always have this hold on me. So please. Say you’ll have my back.”

  There was a long pause, long enough that Fallon’s stomach cramped with nerves.

  “You know I will,” Claire said finally. “And you know all the reasons why you shouldn’t do this. But I also know you well enough to realize you didn’t make this decision lightly. I’ll be here for you. Whenever you need me.”

  Fallon let out a long breath. “Thank you. I… Just… thank you.”

  She disconnected the call then dialed into her voice mail. She had clients to take care of, a business to run. If Brian broke her completely, then the business wouldn’t matter either way. But if she survived this insane choice…

  When the voice mail prompt came on, she recorded a new message.

  “This is Fallon Crowe. Due to a small crisis, I will be unavailable for a short time. Please leave your name and number and I’ll get back to you as quickly as I can.”

  If there’s anything left of me.

  She put the phone back in her purse. Then, despite the anguish she felt, the burning pain on her ass and thighs, the humiliation she knew she was in for, she left Starbucks and entered the interstate.

  On a direct path to hell.

  Chapter 10

  Brian was on his second cup of coffee when the doorbell rang at precisely eight o’clock in the morning. Mrs. Hudson stepped into the dining room.

  “She has arrived. I opened the gate for the taxi. Do you want me to get the door or make her stay out there and wait a bit?”

  The woman had been with him for eight years because she was smart, discreet, and believed the exorbitant salary he paid her should buy loyalty and silence. He had seen her terrorize a sub with just a look, and they soon realized she was no friend. In fact, he sometimes had her tend to their hygiene because she did it in such a humiliating way. She was one of his best weapons in grinding total capitulation into a sub.

  “No,” he told her. “You can let her in. Then bring her into the dining room.”

  He was just taking a last sip of coffee when the housekeeper ushered Fallon into the room before leaving quietly. Fallon had tied back her hair, scrubbed her face free of makeup, and was wearing the loose cotton pajamas he’d had sent to the room.

  “Did you follow all my instructions?” he asked.

  “Yes, Master.” Her voice was so quiet he almost didn’t hear.

  “Louder, slave. I don’t want to strain to hear you.”

  She wet her lips. “Yes, Master. I did everything as you requested.”

  “Excellent.” He held out his hand. “Purse. Now.”

  She handed it to him without hesitation. Brian opened it and removed her cell phone. “You won’t be needing this anymore. The only people you’ll need to talk to are right here in this house.”

  He slipped the phone into his pocket and handed the purse back to her. “Now. Remove your clothing and hang it on the back of a chair. I’m sure you remember I keep every room in this house at a suitable temperature. Freezing to death is not one of the punishments I wish to inflict. Then come forward to me.”

  He watched as she did as asked, her hands shaking only a little. If he hadn’t been looking for it, he wouldn’t have even noticed. He wondered if it was fear or excitement, or a combination of both. He hoped for the third choice. That always upped his level of enjoyment.

  When she stepped in front of him, he slowly ran his hands over every inch of her body, loving the smooth feel of her waxed pubis, the creamy skin on her legs and arms. He turned her around, pleased to note the marks from yesterday’s flogging were still very apparent. He made a mental note to administer another session later so she’d remember whose property she was. She wouldn’t sit comfortably for a week, and that was fine with him.

  He separated the cheeks of her buttocks and thrust one finger roughly into her hot passage. Her body jerked but she bore the intrusion silently, and Brian smiled when he felt the lube he’d instructed she insert into herself.

  When she was facing him again, he cupped her breasts, kneading them hard, waiting for the rewarding flinch on her face. With thumb and forefinger, he pinched each nipple as hard as he could. Tears sprang to her eyes and again pain flashed across her face, but she bore it stoically. Nudging her thighs apart, he opened the lips of her cunt and stared at her pink flesh, already wet. When he pressed a nail against her clit she jerked slightly, but continued to stand in silence, head bowed. And when he shoved two fingers inside her vagina, her muscles tightened and pulsed around him.

  Oh yes, Fallon had not forgotten the pleasures of intense pain one bit. And he’d barely begun.

  Finally satisfied that she had prepared herself in every aspect as requested, he sat back in his chair.

  “Kneel beside me, slave.”

  She did as ordered, balancing on her knees rather than resting her ass on her heels. He knew the pain of yesterday’s session was the reason. Of course, the dining room floor was polished hardwood, not too easy on the limbs, so she’d find no relief, regardless of pose. Inflicting pain and discomfort was important. Best to let her know right away that nothing had changed.

  Last night he’d made some changes in the house, moving a number of things to a master suite on the main floor, in the east wing. When he’d brought Fallon here previously, he had kept her upstairs, wanting her as far away from the common areas of the house as possible. Even though he’d seldom permitted her outside the suite, the appearance of isolation was crucial.

  But in order to maintain the situation with Natalie, he had to keep the two subs on different floors, at opposite ends of the house. Mrs. Hudson would be able to perform the necessary duties for both without them ever seeing each other.

  He had another reason for using the main floor suite with Fallon. The bedroom had a large window that overlooked the front of the house, the iron fence surrounding it and the street beyond. The window was unbreakable glass and sealed shut. He wanted her to be able to see freedom just beyond her reach and know she could never obtain it.

  Sex had nothing to do with the way he felt about her at this moment. The rage at her defection still roiled inside him. He looked forward to breaking her completely. Turning her into a useless, mindless shell. A lesson for others who might get the same idea. No one left Brian of their own choice. Not ever.

  “I’m going to feed you,” he told her. “Eat slowly, but eat everything I give you. You are going to need your strength.”

  Mrs. Hudson entered from the kitchen bearing a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon and toast, and a glass of orange juice. She set them down in front of him silently then left.

&nbs
p; He refilled his cup from a carafe on the table before scooping a bite of egg into a spoon. Fallon dutifully opened her mouth, chewed and swallowed. He drew out the process, enjoying the obvious signs of her discomfort from the hardwood, though her hands remained properly clasped behind her back. When he’d fed her the entire meal, he pressed the button beneath the table that would summon Mrs. Hudson.

  As always, the woman ignored the naked woman beside him. She simply cleared the dishes silently then made herself scarce.

  Brian stood and pushed his chair back, then wound a hank of Fallon’s hair around his fist, using it to pull her to her feet. His cock was already hard at the thought of what was about to transpire.

  “Follow me,” he commanded, releasing her hair and walking from the room.

  He led her through the huge foyer and down the short hall to the downstairs suite. He opened the door, sensing from the look on her face that Fallon wanted to ask him why he wasn’t taking her upstairs, where he’d kept her before, but she wisely held her questions. In any event, his answer would have been that it was his decision and she had no right to question anything.

  Inside the suite, Brian led her through the small sitting room and into the huge master. Pointing to the wing chair near the bed, he said, “Sit.”

  She obeyed without a word, keeping her legs far apart the way he’d always ordered. The knowledge that she hadn’t forgotten her training sent satisfaction surging through him.

  “I will set the alarm for this suite as I did with the one we used before. Open the door and it will be heard all over the house. Mrs. Hudson will turn it off when she brings your meals, but don’t think you can slip out when she’s here. If you try, I’ll have to increase your punishments.”

  Stepping to a large armoire, he opened the doors and surveyed the items inside. Carefully, he selected a flogger, a crop and a cat-o’-nine-tails, then placed them in a line on the bed. He added a ball gag and handcuffs as well as a long length of silken rope.

  “Tonight, when I return,” he told her, “we will have a punishment session. If you handle it well, I’ll reward you by fucking every orifice of your body. You will thank me repeatedly for even taking the time to administer the punishment. This will not be about your pleasure. You have lost the right to pleasure.” He bent over her, placing his hands on the arms of the chair. “Nod your head that you understand.”

  “Excellent,” he said. He stood up. “I’ve selected your meals for the day. Mrs. Hudson will serve you as before. Lunch and dinner will be delivered. Finish every bit of both meals. When I’m satisfied that your behavior each day is acceptable, perhaps I’ll provide some menial tasks for you to perform. But today, you will spend the hours reflecting on your sins. And mentally preparing yourself for tonight’s session. Tell me you understand.”

  She wet her lower lip with the tip of her tongue. “Yes, Master.”

  Finally satisfied that she would obey, he turned and left the suite, pleased that things were well under his control, even pausing a moment in the hallway to enjoy what he had accomplished. He had Natalie upstairs, and Fallon, the prize, downstairs. Both of them completely at his mercy, emotionally and sexually.

  His lips twisted in a caricature of a smile at the image of Fallon sitting naked all day in that chair, awaiting whatever he chose to dole out that evening. Tonight he would begin her intense reprogramming, her compliance helped along by the special “seasoning” he’d left with Mrs. Hudson to use in her food, as well as Natalie’s.

  Now, however, he had another company to push into bankruptcy so he could snap it up at a bargain price. It would completely destroy the owner, who had tried to push back when Brian first approached him about selling.

  All in all, his day was looking very well.

  For Cord, the day had a totally different outlook. He hadn’t slept a wink the night before, missing the presence of Fallon beside him, her warm body curved up against his. Some nights he’d looped a soft rope around her wrist, binding her to the headboard, pleased that she so willingly put herself under his control.

  Now he had to convince himself that her submission to him had no relationship to her subjugation to Willoughby. But it was hard to banish that conflict from his mind.

  Standing in the bathroom, he stared at himself in the mirror. He barely recognized the reflection he saw. It certainly wasn’t the successful businessman from Dallas who’d bought his dream ranch in the Hill Country. Not the confident man seldom thrown off balance by anything. This man was someone he didn’t know and wasn’t even sure he liked. His jaw was covered with stubble and his eyes were bloodshot, with dark circles beneath. He looked like a man who’d been on a twenty-four-hour drinking binge.

  Too bad I wasn’t.

  He barely remembered the hours after Fallon had left the day before. Manic anger mingled with nausea in his stomach and blurred his mind. He vaguely recalled standing in the bedroom, shocked and sickened, his plans to shower and shave completely forgotten. He knew he’d passed on dinner—no way could he swallow a bite of food—and sleep had been an elusive thing.

  He had such rage building inside himself he didn’t know what to do with it. To have exactly the kind of relationship he wanted within his grasp, and then to lose it… He’d been so sure his life was finally settled—the ranch, Fallon, a solid future.

  With an angry sweep of his hand, he knocked his razor, the drinking cup, and everything else on the vanity onto the floor. Vaguely he heard the shattering of ceramic, but he didn’t give a damn. He didn’t care if he broke everything within reach. What did it matter anyway?

  More than anything, he wanted to wipe from his mind the image of Fallon standing naked before him, the nipple rings gone, her ass and thighs covered with thick red stripes, the redness spreading outward to her waist and the backs of her knees. The thought that she’d willingly allowed another man to punish her that way, after everything they’d built together, made him sick to his stomach.

  He dropped to the vanity bench and let his head fall into his hands. What the fuck was he going to do? He felt as if his heart had been ripped out. He thought of all the things he’d wanted to say to her, words that came to him after she’d left. But what good would they have done, anyway? He could tell by the look in her eyes that Willoughby had his hooks in her mind again.

  He remembered what Jack Torres had said about drugs and wondered if he should have tied her up and taken her for a blood test. Checked to see if she had some mind-altering substance in her system.

  Oh, right. Haul a woman bound hand and foot into a doctor’s office. That would have gone over well.

  What he really wanted to do was hunt down Brian Willoughby and choke the life out of him. Only that wouldn’t accomplish anything except possibly getting himself arrested. Dragging Fallon back to Comanche Pass Ranch wouldn’t help, either, assuming he could get to her. It had to be her choice, and he couldn’t be sure she’d make the right one.

  The ringing of his cell phone dragged him out of his misery. Finding it on the nightstand, he pressed the answer bar.

  “What?”

  “Jeez, boss. You eat something bad this morning?” His foreman, Jason Hough, sounded startled.

  Cord drew in a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

  “Bad night, that’s all. What’s up?”

  “You still want to go to that auction the other side of Kerrville today? Check out their stock?”

  Jesus. An auction? Yeah, right. Go to an auction when what he really wanted was to tear someone apart with his bare hands. He wasn’t fit company for anyone. Not even himself.

  “Can’t do it,” he said. “Something came up.” Yeah, the destruction of my life.

  “They’ve got good stock up for sale, boss,” Jason persisted. “We could flesh out the herd. Do ourselves some good.”

  I won’t do anyone any good today.

  “You go,” he said, making a snap decision.

  “Me?” The surprise in the man’s voice was obvious.

&
nbsp; “Yes. I trust you. Completely. Take one of the hands with you. Your choice. If you find something to bid on, go ahead. They know I’m good for a check.”

  Jason spent another minute or so trying to change his mind but Cord had no interest in cattle at the moment. He finally managed to end the conversation then sat on the edge of the bed, raking his fingers through his hair. He had to talk to someone or he’d go out of his fucking mind.

  Claire.

  If anyone could help him try to make sense out of this, tell him how to find answers, it would be Claire Panetta. She knew Fallon better than anyone, and had been through this with her before. Maybe she could give him some insight. Scrolling through his phone book, he found her number and hit ‘call’.

  “Just come on over,” she told him. “I’m working from home today. I don’t know how much help I can be but at least I can listen to you.”

  “Half an hour,” he told her.

  He took enough time to shower and throw on some clean clothes. Then he tore out of the driveway in his truck and burned up the highway as he headed toward Claire’s house. He watched the needle on the speedometer hover at close to ninety and almost wished a cop would pull him over. Maybe jail was the best place for him at the moment. He wouldn’t be able to do damage to himself or anyone else.

  His rage was still boiling when he pulled into Claire’s driveway, jamming the gearshift into park and nearly rocking the truck as he did so. Slamming the door, he headed up the walk to the house.

  “That’s only a piece of helpless metal,” Claire said as she opened the door. “Come on in and I’ll let you beat on the concrete rocks in the back.”

  Cord followed her through the house onto the back patio. She had set out an insulated carafe of coffee and large mugs on the umbrella table.

  “You don’t happen to have any bourbon instead, do you?” He twisted his mouth in a bitter grin.

  “That’s the last thing you need,” Claire told him. “It blunts the pain but doesn’t cure it.”