Blissfully Hers: Bliss Series, Book Seven

by Hall, Deanndra

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “Something going on between you and Dani?”

  Just the sound of her name drives a spike into my already-pierced heart. “No. Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s fine.”

  “Okay. Well, if there’s something else going on and you need to tell me about it, just let me know,” he says, his eyes warm and soft.

  “No, I’m fine. Just not getting enough sleep, you know,” I say and force myself to grin.

  Looks like I’m a pretty good actor because he says, “Maybe you’d better lay off the getting laid a couple of days every week and get some rest. You don’t look too good.” Before I can thank him for the confidence booster, he’s off and down the stairs.

  What takes place in the next two hours is a nightmare. I can get about half the distribution shipments scheduled to make it in two days, but the rest are going to take almost a week. Boone’s going to be pissed as hell, and he has a right to be. If I can hold him at bay for a few days, though, it’ll be fine.

  My intention was to stop at the healthiest fast food place in town on the way home, but when I get close, I realize I couldn’t eat even if I was hungry. Which I’m not. Instead, I drive straight home and drop onto the sofa. Sitting there, inert, I soak up about three hours of TV and then decide to go on to bed.

  Why I’d even bother with the bed I don’t know. I just lie there, staring at the ceiling. All I really want is to hear her voice, feel her touch, stroke that beautiful hair, whisper to her and feel her lips against mine. I miss her in ways I didn’t know it was possible to miss a person. Take a chance, I tell myself and pick up my phone. But just before I hit the button to call, I decide to text instead. My message is short and sweet: Can we talk?

  Her answer comes back almost immediately. No.

  She didn’t even have to think about it. That’s not encouraging. I’m so sorry, Dani. I really am. Please, can I just call you?

  I see the three little dots waving up and down before I get her answer. If you call or text me one more time, I’m going to block your number. I mean it.

  Why?

  The dots start again, but all I get back is a single word. Seriously? I can’t come up with a reply and can’t think of anything to say, so I let it go.

  My bank account is dwindling because I send her flowers every damn day. And every damn day, the florist calls to say she refused them, so I tell them to take them to a local nursing home to brighten their day. Two weeks. It’s been two weeks and she still won’t have a conversation with me.

  All I do is lie there all night, staring at the ceiling and occasionally paging through the photos on my phone. There we are, smiling and happy at the zoo with Caleb and Hazel. Another pic, this one of us up in the Space Needle. There’s our ride to the top of the Seattle Great Wheel. Then I stumble across one that takes my breath away.

  She’s naked and on my bed, lying on her stomach, facing the camera as I stand at the end of the bed with it. In the pic I can see that beautiful ass. Her torso is propped up on her elbows, and I can see just the top edge of her nipples as her tits press into the mattress. Her ankles are up in the air and crossed, and she’s smiling at me, a big, cheesy smile. If only I could reach into that picture and touch her.

  By the time the sun comes up, I’m a mess. I spend the whole day moping around, doing a little laundry, paying a few bills, but I feel like a robot. It all seems so pointless without her.

  The knock on my door startles me and I jump up and run in hopes that it’s her, but when I peer through the peephole, I get a surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to talk to you.”

  I motion for the dungeon master to sit down. “Want something to drink?”

  “No, thanks. I won’t take up much of your time, but I thought I should come over and talk to you.” I just wait, afraid to invite him to go on. When he does speak, he says, “Brandt, leave Dani alone.”

  “But she won’t even talk to me!” I almost shout.

  Brian shakes his head and sighs. “Of course she won’t talk to you. Don’t you realize what you’ve done?”

  “I know what I did, but really, it shouldn’t be such a big deal.”

  “Oh, it’s a big deal to her. She’s a Dominatrix. She was a well-respected Dominatrix. But Boone told Melina, who told Trish, who told Sheila, and in a little while Cirilla and Olivia heard it too. I’ve talked to all of them and told them to keep their mouths shut about her being a switch, but you lied about her, Brandt. You betrayed her trust to save your own hide. Why did you do that?”

  “Because I felt backed into a corner. Boone asked me about our relationship, and he just kept pressing, and I had to tell him something. That was the first thing that came to my mind. I know I shouldn’t have said it, but what was I supposed to say?”

  Brian rolls his eyes. “Well, you could’ve told him the truth, god damn it. What the hell are you so scared of?”

  “That I’ll be kicked out of the family.”

  He shakes his head. “Do you really believe that would happen?”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “Maybe I don’t. But what I do understand is that you ruined a good relationship. Dani really cared about you, and you lied about her to a family member to save your ass.” I don’t like the fact that he used the past tense, cared, to describe her feelings for me. “There’s only one way to make this right.”

  “I can’t, Brian. I just can’t.”

  He slaps his hands onto the tops of his thighs and stands. “Then I guess there’s nothing else I can say to you.”

  “Is she coming to the club?” I ask. I want to ask, Is she scening with other submissives? but I don’t dare.

  “No. She’s going to a club in Portland. It’s a huge inconvenience for her, but she doesn’t want to see anybody at Bliss because she’s afraid they’ll know and give her a hard time. Plus if anybody finds out, she doesn’t think the submissives will take her seriously anymore, and she’s certain the other Dominants won’t. It would be one thing if she’d always been a switch. It’s entirely another when she’s presented herself as a Dominant all this time and people think she’s a switch. If any of them find out about this, her reputation will be ruined, so she’s just lying low.”

  “I didn’t mean for all that to happen. Really, I didn’t. I was just―”

  “You were just thinking about yourself and giving no thought to how your actions were going to affect her. I think a lot of your brother, Brandt, but I have to say I’m disappointed in you.” When his hand grasps the doorknob, he turns to look back over his shoulder at me. “I haven’t revoked your membership―yet. But if she decides she wants to come back to Bliss, well, she was there first. She’s been there a lot of years. And if I have to choose between her or you, I’m going to choose her. Fair warning.” In seconds, he’s out the door and gone, and I’m still standing there, mouth agape.

  At eight o’clock, Boone calls. “Hey, bro, what’s shakin’?”

  “Nothing. Just doing some laundry and stuff.”

  “What, not going to the club?”

  “Nope.”

  There’s silence, but it’s short-lived. “I bought a stack of steaks and I’m grilling them tomorrow. Want to bring Dani and come over? Everybody will be here.”

  “Um, no.” Tell him something, fool! my brain shrieks. “We’re taking Dani’s son and granddaughter to the zoo.”

  “Oh! Well, that sounds like fun! Maybe we can all go sometime. Tell her I said hello and we’ll see her soon.”

  “Will do.”

  “Love you, brother. I’m glad you’re so happy.”

  The pain I feel at those words is indescribable. “Thanks. Love you too.” The phone falls silent and I almost throw it across the room.

  I’ve got a long, hideous night to make it through and an equally long, horrible day to live through tomorrow. Then the work week starts again and I have to pretend to be whole and happy and well. But I’m not.

  I’m
wrecked. My heart is broken and I feel sick all the time. There’s a headache behind my eyes that’s been there ever since the night I dropped her off at her house. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I can’t think.

  I’m not sure what’s going to happen to me, but I have a feeling it won’t be good.

  * * *

  “Where the hell is that sportswear?” Boone’s standing in front of my desk, livid.

  I feign surprise. “It’s not there?”

  “No. It’s not. And everybody’s wanting to know where it is.”

  “I’ll get right on that and chew some asses until I find out what’s happened.” Me. I’m what’s happened. I can’t tell him that, but that’s the truth of the matter. “We’ll get it all there. Just let me find out what’s going on.”

  “Okay. I need a firm ETA to the central warehouse. I mean it. Nothing wishy-washy. I’ve got a reputation to maintain and it’s going to hell,” he barks as he heads down the stairs.

  What is it with everybody’s fucking reputation? Why is that such a big deal all of a sudden? And then I remember something.

  Bill Donnelly. He was a pastor across town in Birmingham. Decent-sized congregation, one he’d worked for years to build. He’d been there long enough that he was officiating at the marriages of children whose parents had been married by him.

  And then one teenage girl came forward and said he’d molested her. She told the story of how he’d taken her to a motel there in town, tied her hands to the headboard, and raped her repeatedly. Word spread like wildfire. In two days, he was ousted from his pastorate. Disgraced. Scorned. Derided. That was all before somebody thought to look at the security tapes from the motel.

  There she was, the girl in question … and her boyfriend. They could plainly be seen going into the motel room. By the time it was all sorted out, they discovered she’d been there with the boy all night, smoking pot and drinking. Bill had been nowhere around. Her story had been concocted to cover her ass because her parents were on her about being out all night. But, as happens in small towns, gossip of the discovery from the cameras didn’t travel as fast or as far as the original tale. A year later, mention of his name still brought frowns and cursing, even though he’d been exonerated. By then, he’d been in New Mexico for nine months, working as a custodian in a mental health facility. As far as I know, he’s never preached another sermon. I heard his wife almost left him because of all of it.

  He didn’t do a damn thing wrong and a teenage girl managed to ruin his reputation. My head hurts and my stomach churns at the thought that Dani feels the same way. But there’s only one thing I can do about it, and I absolutely cannot do that.

  I’m shaken from my reverie by my phone ringing, and I answer it with a simple, “Hello?”

  “Mr. Lawson?”

  “This is Brandt Lawson.”

  “Mr. Lawson, this is Roberta over at Lily Pad Florists. Sir, it’s been three weeks and these flowers are still being rejected. Are you sure you want to keep sending them?”

  Pinching the bridge of my nose, I dip my head in defeat. “No, ma’am. Just stop. And thank you for calling.”

  “Thought I’d save you some money. And I’m sorry it didn’t work out, sir.”

  “No problem. Thank you.” I end the call and drop the phone on the desktop.

  That’s it. I can’t stay here anymore. As I walk out of the building, I see Boone in the back, but I say nothing. He’ll go upstairs and find my desk empty, and I don’t care. The pain is too much.

  Nothing at the grocery store sounds good, so I buy an apple and some canned soup. Even when it’s heated up and smells great, I can’t eat it. I take a spoonful and it sticks in my throat like glue. I get three spoons of it down, and that’s it. The rest goes down the garbage disposal. There’s no point in even trying to eat the apple.

  My nest is made on the sofa, so I just curl up, blanket over me, and lie there. There’s nothing else to do. I’m reliving the first time we were together when my phone rings. One look at the screen and my heart sinks. “Hey, son! How are you?”

  “I’m good, Dad.” What a fucking bald-faced lie. “How are you and Mom?”

  “We’re good. Say, I hear congratulations is in order.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’ve got a woman! That’s great! Even if she is a switch,” he throws in at the end and I cringe. Thanks, Boone.

  “Thank you.” What else is there for me to say? It’s all so far gone that there’s nothing more.

  “So I was thinking maybe we should come this weekend and see you. Start the process of bringing her into the family, if you’re both ready.”

  I surprise myself at how fast I answer. “We’re not.”

  “Oh. Well, okay then. I just thought maybe―”

  “No, we want to take it slow. Really, really slow.” Hopefully that will appease him.

  “I see. Well, maybe we’ll come anyway. I’d love to meet her.”

  Dear god, will this never end? “I’m not sure what she’s got going on for the weekend.”

  “Ask her and let me know. Like I said, we’d love to meet her, me and your mom. Give me a call, okay? I’ll need to make the arrangements.” I know my dad. The plane tickets are already bought and waiting for them.

  “Yeah, okay. I will. Gotta run, Dad. Stuff to do.”

  “Okay. Love you, son. Talk to you soon.”

  “Yeah. Talk to you soon.” My hands are shaking as I hit END on the phone and fall back onto the sofa.

  My parents want to come and meet my switch girlfriend. The non-switch girlfriend I don’t have anymore. I’m not going to be able to keep my secret much longer.

  The panic I feel is overwhelming, a crushing, breathing thing that threatens to choke me. Helplessness is there too, as well as guilt. I make up my mind what I’m going to do.

  I’m calling in sick for the rest of the week. There’s no way I can do it anymore, pretend things are fine when they’re not. Besides, it’s not a lie. I really am sick―sick at heart.

  So that’s what I do. I spend my days staring at the ceiling. Part of the time I’m drinking. That seems to help a little, but not much. Just makes me even sadder.

  On Friday afternoon, Boone calls. “You feeling any better?”

  “No.”

  “Maybe you should go to the doctor. Or the emergency room. I could come and get you and―”

  “No. I don’t need to go to the hospital.”

  “Brandt, you’ve been off work for four days. You need to get well. I need you at the office, and I’m worried about you. I know something’s wrong, but I just don’t know what. I tried to call Dani today but―”

  I almost scream into the phone, “Why did you do that?”

  “Because I’m worried about you!”

  “Don’t worry anymore. I’m fine. Leave me alone, and leave her alone too.”

  The phone is silent for about ten seconds before Boone speaks. “Look, if you want a job with Lawson’s, you need to go to the emergency room, see a doctor, and get your ass back to work. I’ll only put up with so much and then I’ll―”

  “You won’t have to put up with anything anymore. I quit.”

  “Brandt, what the―” And I just hang up. He tries to call me two more times, but I don’t answer. He leaves a voicemail both times, but I’m not interested in hearing it.

  I finally decide to call her, but when I do, I get an announcement that makes my heart sink into my gut.

  The number you are calling has blocked your number. If you feel this is in error, please call us at …

  I’m about as shocked as I’ve ever been. She’s not coming back to me. This is real. It’s permanent.

  Even so, I’m not prepared for what happens the next day. I haven’t picked up my mail all week, so I decide maybe I should. I drag myself onto the elevator, unlock the little mailbox, and pull out stuff. Bill. Bill. Sales flyer. Bill. And an envelope with decidedly female handwriting on its face.

  Hers.

&n
bsp; I don’t want to read it outside the apartment, so I hold it in my hand and bounce on my toes. Maybe she wants to talk to me. Maybe she wants to meet me somewhere. I rush through the door, rip open the envelope, and sit down on the sofa to read it.

  Dear Brandt,

  I’m sorry I had to block your number, but I had no choice. I can’t do this anymore. What you’ve done to me is inexcusable. I get that you’re scared about what your family will think, but it’s clear to me that what they think is far more important to you than our relationship or what I think and feel. I hope you find someone who’s willing to play the game with you, but that person isn’t me. I’m not a game player. I shoot straight, tell the truth, I’m honest, and I don’t like being kicked around. And I definitely feel kicked around by this situation. I’ll always cherish the time we had together, but it has to be over for my sake. I can’t be with someone who’d sacrifice me just to save their own skin from something that may or may not be true. If you decide to man up and do what you need to do, let me know. Otherwise, goodbye, Brandt. I’m sorry you aren’t the panther we both thought you were.

  Best wishes,

  Danielle

  My hands are sweating and my heart is racing. That’s it. There’s nothing else to do. My course is set. It’s just a matter of doing it.

  And tonight looks like a perfectly good time.

  Chapter Twelve

  The memory of Dani’s skin is all that keeps me sane, but that won’t last. If she would let me stay with her, take me in her arms, and hold me forever, I wouldn’t have to do this, but that would be unfair. It would be unfair to give her something broken and useless, and that’s what I am.

  I pull into the parking lot of the big discount store, my car surrounded by hundreds of others. This will be easy enough. The car’s black, it’s dark, and the hose is black too, so I just tape it to the exhaust pipe, run it up the side of the car and through the window, then stuff the opening around the hose with a garbage bag. Once I’m back in, I start the engine.