Us: Book Three in The Everett Gaming Series

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Us: Book Three in The Everett Gaming Series Page 23

by Drew Sera


  Anthony looked over in the direction of the stairs. “Tomorrow is Monday.”

  Everyone in the room knew what that meant. Sydney’s standing appointment with Chris. Mondays were difficult and it was hard to breathe Monday mornings. You can feel the anxiety in the air. I think Anthony works himself up more than he needs to. He’s afraid of hearing things. I wish I had been there for their first appointment when things were so difficult. Matt eased up on him now that he knew what was bugging him, though I think Anthony was still a little dazed from last night.

  “She’s getting better, Anth. Just look at what you were able to get her through last night.”

  Matt tried to provide words of encouragement and Anthony nodded and looked back towards the stairs.

  “I just...am afraid…” He clamped his mouth shut, trying to prevent himself from continuing. Blake prompted him though.

  “What are you afraid of, Anthony?” Blake asked him.

  “Just...am afraid that she’ll say something that will make me angry.”

  Blake continued to push Anthony into explaining, “Angry at her?”

  Anthony shook his head and explained that he didn’t want to hear painful things that would make him angry and want to kill the people who caused her pain. I understood. A Dom doesn’t want to hear how wrong was done to his little sub and that the bastard who hurt her was still walking.

  Blake and Matt left not much longer after the game. They both knew that Anthony and I needed to spend time with Sydney tonight. Anthony and I have been doing as Chris suggested with taking time each day to talk with Sydney about something negative and then spend an equal amount of time working on something positive. It had it’s ups and downs but has been good for the most part. Hearing the bad shit gets Anthony and I worked up but we keep our anger in check. We’ve been doing this religiously now for almost a week and I’ll admit that it’s emotionally draining at times. I’m thinking Anthony and I need to take Chris up on a vent session. It’ll do us some good.

  29

  Sunday, December 15th

  Anthony

  Colin had to take care of some stuff for work before he came upstairs. I went into our room and found Sydney sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace. She hadn’t heard me come into the room so I stood there breathing in the sight of her. She was still in her jeans and red tee shirt. Her legs were crossed and she had her notebook on her lap. When I stepped closer, I saw that she had her hand against her stomach. Was she not feeling well?

  “Sunshine,”

  At the sound of my voice she quickly moved her hand away from her stomach and pretended that she hadn’t had it covering it. I frowned at her as I sat on one of the chairs and took hold of her chin.

  “Talk to me.” She knew better than to evade my curiosity and avoid telling me what was on her mind.

  She tried to look down but I wouldn’t let her.

  “I’m nervous about tomorrow.”

  I nodded. I understood how she felt. I felt it too. I sat back in the chair and motioned for her to come sit with me. She hadn’t hesitated and climbed right on up on my lap. Why on earth do I find her sitting cuddled up on my lap so appealing? I wrapped my arms around her and put my hand over her stomach.

  “Nervous enough that your tummy hurts?” I asked her while I gently rubbed on her stomach with my thumb.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  I held her in my arms while I continued to rub on her. She just needed to be held, comforted, and reassured about tomorrow. I swear that I felt my chest cavity burst when I felt her hand take hold of my shirt as a security blanket. I looked down and she held a small fistful of my football jersey. She always held onto my clothes when she felt upset or scared. She hasn’t done this for a while and I was obviously concerned. I hoped this wasn’t a carry over from last night. Did I push her too much last night?

  “Sunshine, sweetie. Talk to me. I can’t help if you won’t let me,” I whispered gently to her.

  She shrugged her shoulders and looked lost. She said that Chris is unpredictable in what he asks her to talk about. I knew that. I’d seen him whip things out of his psych bag and upset her in seconds. She prepared for the worst but hoped for the best. I completely understood that plan of attack. That’s how I feel going into those appointments.

  I wasn’t expecting her to say much more but sometimes she can be full of surprises. And if she was going to talk and open herself up, then I was going to encourage it.

  “It’s hard talking to Chris. I don’t know if he really understands or just has to say he understands,” Sydney said.

  I took a deep breath and continued to stroke her back. I was trying to assess where she was going with this. Colin is so much better at this than I am, but I sure as hell would try.

  “I think he understands quite a bit, sunshine.” I could tell something was on the tip of her tongue, and I was trying to figure out how to bring it to the surface. I tilted her chin up so she’d look at me.

  She began tracing mindless shapes on my football jersey. I took a deep breath while I quickly decided how personal I wanted this to get. I pulled my jersey off so I could be closer to her without anything in the way. I gave her a squeeze and kissed the top of her head.

  “Sydney, I know it’s hard to sit across from a stranger and try to explain how you feel or how certain things felt.” My mind clouded with images of Connor holding me down while Bruce doused his cigarette on me and beat me with a belt until I forgot about the pain from the burn. I took a deep breath and continued, “My dad had taken me to see a doctor, like Chris, soon after he moved me in with him. I sat there, scared too, and answered all of their questions. I didn’t know how to explain how I felt. I just knew I hated the way I felt for so long but by that time, I had become so guarded and almost numb.”

  Fuck, I felt sick to my stomach just thinking about all those hours with the psych doctor. They’d ask me some of the craziest things. They’d ask me to recall certain events or talk about things that stuck out in my head, and then they’d ask me how it made me feel. So many of their questions fucking bothered me. I tried though. Afterwards my dad would go in and they would have their own private talk, like it was some secret what they were discussing.

  I was going to stop but when I looked in her eyes I could see that she was hanging onto each word as it left my now dry mouth. If she knew that I understood first hand a lot of her feelings, and that I’ve probably experienced many of them, that it might help her with talking about it.

  “Can I ask you something, Anthony?”

  Fuck, I loved hearing her say my name.

  “Sunshine, you can always ask me anything.”

  I swallowed hard and moved her hand from my chest down to my scar.

  “What did you hate the most?”

  What did I hate the most? My earliest memory of being a toddler until I went to college. Everything in between. The burns from the cigarettes and the hot water, the beatings, hiding under my bed in the far corner where I couldn’t be reached, being laughed at in grade school for having accidents. While the damaging torment stopped when my dad came for me, the healing torment began quickly after that. The nightmares, the visits to medical doctors and the psychiatrist, the attorneys offices, the judge. All of it. I couldn’t pick one thing to tell her about.

  Sydney’s fingertips tracing my scar brought me out of my daze. Fuck, she was trying to have a serious conversation with me, and I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t breathe a word of that shit to her. She was brave enough to open up with me though.

  “I hated the cigarette burns the most.” She focused her attention on her fingers running around on my scar. “I didn’t like the beatings though. Those were a close second,” Sydney said barely above a whisper.

  Fuck, I hated those too. Burns with cigarettes were bad, but I also ended up burned by hot water when I was younger. I swallowed hard past the spikes that lined my throat and nodded at her. I tried to keep the conversation going and keep her talking. This would b
e good for her.

  “Did he use anything in particular, sunshine?”

  “Belt.”

  Belt.

  Bruce loved to bring a belt down on me often. My head filled with the sound of a belt slicing through the air, followed by the slapping noise of the leather as it made contact.

  “Yeah, the belt and I were acquaintances too, sunshine.”

  Fuck me, I was shaking. I needed to stop. I wasn’t helping Sydney at all. This was a bad idea. I needed some air. What the fuck was I thinking just airing that shit out? She had so much of her own shit and didn’t need mine. I was getting ready to call out for Colin to come up here, but Sydney snuggled closer to me, and I automatically wrapped the blanket around us. Her head was tucked under my chin and I shut my eyes. Funny how this woman captured my heart when I wasn’t even looking. I loved her and she had the ability to calm the storm that was building inside me right now.

  I was happy she felt comfortable and secure enough to sit here and toss little bits of her prior life in the air for me. I was trying to push things from my past away while I listened to her, but things kept getting in the way. I hated the fact that she had been hit violently with a belt. Those fucking things hurt. Her sweet, soft voice took me away from being on the receiving end of Bruce’s belt.

  “When I had friends in college, they’d try to get me to go with them to get our hair done or nails done. But I would always decline. I was afraid the burns or other bruising would be discovered.” Sydney whispered against my chest. “Pretty soon my friends stopped calling to invite me places. Howard made it so I lost all of my friends. Did any of your friends know?” I looked down and thought back to my childhood.

  Oh fuck me.

  “No, sunshine. I, uh, I didn’t have many friends…I didn’t make friends very easily. The teachers all liked me. I did well with my studies. But I didn’t have many friends.”

  “What did you do at lunch and recess?”

  Lunch and recess. I could see my much younger form sitting in the grass against the fence watching others play and keeping my eye on the door that led into the building. On occasion, Connor would come out at recess and all the fucking teachers would swoon over him. He’d look for me, wave me over and then it’d begin. I wised up and when I saw that door open I bolted and tried to blend in with the other kids playing.

  “Sometimes I’d play basketball. But for the most part I kept to myself a lot. It was better and easier for me.”

  She nodded at me, understanding that it was easier. If you didn’t have any friends, no one asked you where you got that bruise or asked difficult questions. Sydney avoided friends like I had. She and I were just sharing random bits of pain. I wanted to be there for her and talk with her. This is the most we’ve gotten out of her, and I didn’t want to stop the communication but I wasn’t doing well with it. Sydney was talkative now and maybe it was because she knew that we shared some of these feelings, so she knew little explanation was needed.

  “Did you ever bite down on your tongue until you tasted blood to prevent yourself from making noise or crying out? I had apartment neighbors and Howard made sure I was quiet.”

  I looked up at the ceiling feeling dizzy and hot, yet I held her body tightly against mine under that sauna of a blanket.

  “Yes, sunshine. I tasted blood many times.”

  I had thrown up blood, pissed blood, and shit blood. You name it and I had experienced it. I stroked her back through the blanket, hoping that I was soothing her.

  “Did a teacher ever see any marks or think something was wrong?”

  I thought back to the slew of teachers that came forth on my behalf during the lawsuit my dad filed. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Connor. I swallowed hard and knew I was dripping in sweat. Where the fuck was Colin?

  “Yeah, there were some teachers that raised concerns with the principal but it got swept under the rug.”

  She swirled her fingers in my chest hair and continued on. This was so good for her even though I felt like a mess.

  “My clothes started to hurt. The waist of my pants rubbed against my sides, and by the time I’d get home from work, they had started to bleed.” Sydney laughed quietly and nuzzled her head against my chest. “The seams of my pants rubbed some cuts on the inside of my legs raw. I sewed some soft cloth inside my pants.” She kept playing with my chest hair because I think it calmed her. Sydney had a habit of rubbing or picking at her fingers when she was nervous. I had once told her to try to do something different when she felt nervous. Maybe playing in my chest hair was her response. It was fine with me. She was actually calming me. “Did you get in fights in school?”

  “Fights? No, I wasn’t a fighter or troublemaker, sunshine. I gave a kid a black eye for bumping into my stomach with his backpack. I had been burned right before school, and I was trying to be careful. This kid just innocently bumped me and I went off.”

  “Did you get in trouble?”

  Trouble? Oh fuck yeah. After I received my punishment from Connor, I was suspended for a week. My time at home for that week was difficult. That’s when I learned about the feelings and sensations that happen right before you pass out.

  I had to stop.

  “It was a long time ago. I’m sure I got in trouble but don’t remember.”

  I knew what she went through, and now she knew that I knew. We shared some fucked up things that I would have never in a million years thought I’d ever share with another soul. And here I fucking shared it with my collared sub, because she fucking knew first hand what it was like.

  I heard a noise and turned my head and saw Colin sitting on the bed with his head hung, listening. Oh fuck me. How long had he been sitting there? I could hear him getting off the bed, and then he sat down on the ottoman in front of where I held Sydney. At this point, I think I was clinging to her. I was studying Colin’s face trying to figure out how long he may have been in there with us. But when I noticed that his eyes were red, I figured it was safe to say he heard most of it. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  I stayed right where I was at, burning up and sweating, and hid under that blanket with Sydney. I didn’t dare move. I looked down at the top of Sydney’s sweet head. Colin had reached out to rub on Sydney’s arm, and he pulled the blanket up over us. He stood and tucked an end of the blanket around my shoulder and he kept his hand on my shoulder over the blanket. Fuck. I knew it was his way of telling me that he heard. I didn’t want sympathy.

  “Anthony, Sir…” I gave her a squeeze to encourage her to continue. “Tell me about your cabin.”

  “My cabin?” Fuck, okay, this was good. Different topic and I was completely on board with that now. “Well, what would you like to know?”

  “Anything. The sound of your voice makes me feel better.”

  I kissed the top of her head and took a deep breath. Sydney was in need of being close to Colin or I. If the sound of my voice soothed her enough for her to relax and her stomach to settle, then I’d recite the phone book to her.

  “Well, I’ve had the cabin for a long time. After I got a real job when I got out of college, I invested in having a cabin built. I wanted a big part in the design and architecture of it. I wanted it to be exactly what I wanted and not a cookie cutter cabin. It’s warm. I think you’ll like it. It’s got lots of amenities. Has a oversized garage. I had that done in case I ever wanted snowmobiles. It’s two levels and has two master suites and bathrooms upstairs that are separated by a big loft that overlooks the living room downstairs. The living room spills into the kitchen, and there’s also a full size bathroom downstairs. There’s a nice big fireplace that I bet you’ll like. We can snuggle up by the fire each night. It has an incredible view of a ski slope right across a clearing of trees. The upstairs has a nice wrap around balcony so you can sit outside and look at the slope. I have heat lamps outside so it’s warm enough to enjoy the outside.”

  She felt so good in my arms, and I found myself excited to tell her about the cabin, and I was calming down from our earlier topic. Abov
e all though, I was looking forward to sharing the cabin with her and having her bubbly spirit in there.

  “I can’t wait to see it.”

  “It’ll be a lot of fun. We’ll get a Christmas tree and decorate it.”

  She quickly sat up and turned to look at me. Her eyes were searching mine to see if I was joking.

  “You’re really going to get a Christmas tree? You guys really weren’t just teasing me?”

  I eyed her cautiously and noticed that her breathing picked up. She was this excited about a tree?

  “Yes, we are going to get a Christmas tree. We get one every year. There is a little local place at the base of the mountain that has Christmas trees for sale. In the past, Colin, Matt, Gina, and I go there and pick out a tree and take it back and decorate it. But this year,” I pulled her closer to me so our noses were touching. “This year, you get to help pick it out.”

  Tears spilled from her eyes and I quickly caught them. She was that excited.

  “Sunshine, why are you crying?”

  “A Christmas tree.”

  It was all that she said and then smiled through the tears. I know Colin understood how important it was for us to make this a great Christmas for her.

  30

  Monday, December 16th

  Colin

  Sydney brought her notebook for Chris again. He’s wanted to read up on the nightmares. I was pleased at the fact that she’s no longer having nightmares every night. It’s still often, maybe every other night, but at least it’s not every night anymore. Progress.

  We had lots of progress this weekend. Of course what sticks out most is Anthony restraining her in the hotel room, and then Sydney just opening up her little flood gates last night with Anthony. I had just come upstairs and heard them quietly talking and stood in the doorway for a bit, just to watch them interact and talk. He understands so much of what she went through. I walked in on them talking about being hit by belts and felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. They could each describe what it felt like. Sydney talked with him about a spot on her side where the buckle would always hit and it would reopen the gash.

 

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