Licorice Whips

by Bridget Midway

  “No, nothing happened,” Nikla lied. “Our arrangement is over. Time to get on with business.”

  “So if everything is so cool, why aren’t you staying at your own place? Why crash here with me?”

  Nikla couldn’t tell her friend. She didn’t have the strength to explain. “Sleep. Let me get a couple of hours before I have to go to work.”

  Shit. Sweet knew where she worked, too. He could show up there as well. Since he knew her father’s name, he could probably find his address, not that she would want to stay with her father. If Nikla didn’t want to talk about Sweet with Deana, she for sure didn’t want to do any explanations with her father.

  Nikla pushed past Deana and headed toward her bedroom.

  “Um, not there.” Deana ran around Nikla to block her path.

  A realization hit Nikla as she sighed. “Why did you invite me over if you had company?”

  “You’re my girl.” Deana nodded her head behind her. “He’s leaving.”

  “I can go.” Nikla turned around.

  “No.” Deana put her hands on Nikla’s shoulders from behind and guided her back down the hallway. “I have a pretty comfy daybed in my exercise room. You’re welcome to it.”

  Deana opened the door to the spare bedroom. A large elliptical trainer machine sat in the middle of the room like an overgrown praying mantis. Behind it sat the daybed Deana described.

  Right now Nikla could sleep on a bed of rocks. She dropped her overnight bag on the floor, walked out of her shoes, and plopped down on the bed. “Close the door on your way out.”

  “You’re welcome on the room.” Deana laughed. “Hey.”

  Nikla turned over to regard her friend.

  “Truce?”

  Nikla looked at Deana but said nothing.

  “I’ve missed our talks and our lunches. I miss us.” Deana padded to her. “Can we please be friends again? I’m so sorry for what I said. I’m a bitch. You can tell me that.”

  Nikla cocked a smile at the corner of her mouth. “You are a bitch. But I missed you, too.” She sat up and opened her arms to embrace her friend. “Now let me sleep. I’ll talk to you in a couple of hours.”

  “And then what?”

  Nikla braced herself up on her elbow. “What?”

  “After you get some sleep and we talk, then what will you do? You can’t keep running from this guy forever. And you can’t keep running from your problems.”

  Nikla shook her head. “Now you sound like him.”

  “And now I’m starting to like him.” Deana walked over to the door, then turned to Nikla before she walked out. “If you truly don’t want to see this guy, tell it to him face to face. That’s the only way he’ll get the message.” She closed the door behind herself.

  Nikla plopped back on the bed and allowed the tears she’d been holding back to flow. She didn’t bother to wipe them away. For as bad as she felt, she knew the tears would keep streaming down.

  As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she knew both Deana and Sweet had been right. Nikla couldn’t keep running. Right now she just needed a break, and maybe not just from her love life, either.

  Nikla reached into her bag on the floor and pulled out her cell phone. She hit the speed dial number for her job. Nikla had never called out sick to work. She figured being heartbroken counted as a major illness.

  “Hey Big Tom. I hate to do this to you but I won’t be able to come into work today.” Then Nikla thought about it. “Actually this week.”

  “What?” Big Tom’s voice boomed and it sounded like the man stood in the bedroom with her. “This is so short notice. You can’t just come in and push through just for today?”

  Nikla shook her head as though he could see her. “No. I can’t. I’m sorry. I’ll call when I can come in.” She disconnected the call and fell back on the pillows.

  This time she had to bury her face in the pillows to muffle her cries. If love meant feeling this bad, Nikla hated it. She didn’t need love. If only she could convince herself of that logic, she would be okay.

  ****

  Sweet stormed down the stairs to his truck. As a Dominant, he’d never had a submissive not do what he wanted. As a man, he had never had a woman dismiss him like Nikla had. He felt a sense of betrayal more than anger. Only a small part of himself now thought Nikla had reported what they’d done to the health department.

  “Hey!”

  Sweet heard the scream behind him but didn’t bother turning around. He could tell his brother’s voice from a mile away.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  This time Sweet did turn around. He found Masaun marching toward him. In his standard blue suit, he looked like a federal agent coming after him.

  “I’m going to see Nikla. She has some explaining to do and she’s not taking my calls.” Sweet unlocked his truck and jumped behind the wheel.

  Masaun held the door open. “If she doesn’t want to talk to you right now, let her have her space. Maybe she feels some guilt.”

  Sweet glared at his older brother. He grabbed his door and pulled it shut.

  Masaun knocked on the glass and motioned for him to drop the window. After starting his truck and waiting a beat, Sweet lowered his window.

  “You know what the great thing is about being a Dom?” Masaun began.

  “Control.”

  Masaun nodded. “That’s right. Control. That doesn’t mean that you control every little thing. It means you control your environment. When you don’t feel like playing, you don’t. When you do play, you decide what you want to do. But you also have to be aware of your submissive and slave. You have to listen. You have to take care of them because of you don’t, the scene can go badly.” Masaun put his hand on Sweet’s shoulder. “Your scene is going to go badly if you go over to wherever Nikla is. She’s going to feel like you’re not listening to her. To be honest, man, after everything that has happened, do you really trust her?”

  Sweet kept his truck running. “I’ve been asking myself that question over and over and over again. My head and my–” Sweet looked at his brother. He didn’t want to reveal that Nikla had stolen his heart already. “—my gut,” he continued, “know she wouldn’t have reported us.” He chuckled. “Every time we did something, she would accuse me of having some hidden camera so that I could use it against her. She had a hard time being open in the lifestyle.”

  “I didn’t know this, which is why it was so easy for me to accuse her of trying to destroy our business.”

  Sweet nodded.

  “What was your excuse?”

  Sweet stared at his brother.

  Masaun said, “You knew her. Slept with her. Played with her. How could you second guess her unless you really didn’t trust her?”

  Or himself, Sweet wanted to supply.

  “Give her and you some time.” Masaun patted Sweet on his chest. “Maybe you need to think about how you really feel about her versus how you feel about your business. It’s apparent the two cannot exist together. Not with her father in the mix. And you know what they say. Blood is thicker than water.”

  Sweet knew what his brother implied with his statement. Masaun wanted Sweet to do the right thing for their business, not fix the issues between him and Nikla. Maybe Masaun had a point. Between Melinda and Nikla, Sweet didn’t have the right touch with submissives or with love. Damn if his heart didn’t still smart over this loss.

  Needing time to think, Sweet drove off to clear his head. His heart forced him to go by the empty suites. A small part of him hoped beyond hope that Nikla would be there waiting for him, ready to jump in his arms or at least ready to talk. When he found only vacant parking spots in front of the store, Sweet felt just as empty inside.

  He had to see Nikla. He had to talk to her. If he could just look into her eyes, he would find the truth.

  Sweet threw his truck in reverse and headed to Nikla’s apartment, dismissing Masaun’s suggestion to give her space. Space would kill anything he had wi
th her.

  What was he thinking? He did that by accusing her of betraying him and his brother.

  “Damn.” Sweet hated that aching feeling in the pit of his stomach that let him know he’d fucked up royally.

  Once he got to her apartment, Sweet wasted no time in running up to the door and banging on it as hard as he could. “Nikla! Come on! We have to talk!”

  After a few minutes when no one answered, Sweet headed over to the recreation center. He burst through the door and ran over to the workout room where he’d done yoga with her. Inside he found a classroom full of people doing some dancing exercise. The blaring music reminded him of being in a bar.

  “You’re not too late, sir. Join us in Zumba!” the instructor said without missing a step.

  Sweet turned and went up to the front desk. To the bored-looking employee he said, “I’m looking for Nikla Dearwood.”

  “Who?”

  Sweet pointed to the workout room. “Nikla. She normally does the yoga and Pilates classes. Where is she?”

  “You’re looking for Nikla?” a voice asked from behind him.

  Sweet turned around and found an African-American man about his height but full of muscles behind him.

  “Yeah, where is she? I’ve been calling her but she won’t answer me.” Sweet tried not to sound frantic, but the urgent nature couldn’t be missed.

  “She called out sick,” the big man answered.

  Sweet nodded. Never figured the hard-working Nikla would have ever called in sick to work. Sweet figured her pain matched his.

  “She called out sick the entire week.”

  Sweet took a step back.

  “Do you know why she would be out for a week?”

  Sweet didn’t answer the man. He had one last place he could check. If he couldn’t find her there, he would know Nikla wouldn’t want to be found.

  Once he arrived at Healthy Bites, Sweet had to take a breath before going into the establishment. The last encounter he had with Lawrence Dearwood didn’t go smoothly.

  He walked into the store. Aside from the three patrons sitting at various tables, he found Lawrence standing behind the counter putting out more muffins. When Lawrence’s gaze fell on Sweet’s, he smirked.

  “Come here to rub it in my face about how well you did yesterday?” Lawrence wiped down the counter.

  “I’m looking for Nikla. Have you seen or heard from her?”

  Lawrence’s face relaxed. “No. But that’s not unusual for me.”

  “I tried calling her, going to her apartment, and going to her job. She called in sick.”

  Lawrence’s eyes widened.

  “For the week.”

  Nikla’s father stumbled back. “She’s never called sick for work, and certainly not for a full week.” He came from around the counter. “What did you do to her?”

  Ignoring Lawrence’s accusatory inquiry, Sweet continued. “If you hear from her, please tell her I’m looking for her.”

  “I’m not a messenger.” He pointed to the door. “I have no obligation to you. I have one with my child.”

  “I love her.” To say it out loud freed his soul. Sweet wanted to tell Nikla that first, but in the moment, he needed to be completely honest. “If you care anything about Nikla, you’ll tell her that a man who loves her needs her back in his life. You’ll tell her that I’ll let her be whatever she wants to be. You tell her Swithin loves her.”

  “Who?”

  “She’ll know.” Sweet left the establishment thinking that his words fell on deaf ears.

  He knew her father would never relay the message to Nikla. Sweet had to face facts that he may have lost Nikla for good.

  Chapter Thirty

  After a long car ride, Nikla found herself in Baltimore. If she had a chance to fix one relationship in her life, the one with her mother had to be first.

  Sitting outside of a small cottage-style home, Nikla gripped her steering wheel. She felt her chest tightening and her breathing turning into shallow pants.

  “No. Not now. Come on. No panic attacks now.” Nikla tried taking deep breaths but found it getting harder and harder with each one.

  She managed to pry her fingers from the steering wheel to employ a trick she’d seen Sweet do to himself. She pinched her hand in between her thumb and index finger.

  Nikla concentrated on that sensation. If nothing else, the BDSM lifestyle got her to concentrate on herself more than practicing yoga ever did. She never knew thinking about the pain would make her whole.

  When she could corral her breathing, Nikla let her hand go. She took another cleansing breath and grabbed her purse as she exited her car. No time like the present.

  She went up to the front door. Before she could even ring the bell, the door opened.

  “I wondered if I was going to have to go out and get you.” Her mother stood on the other side with a slight smile. “Are you okay?”

  Nikla stared at her mother. She didn’t want to admit it to herself, but she did look an awful lot like her. From the skin tone to her nose to the brown eyes, they matched. No wonder her father found it hard to look at her.

  “Hi, Mom.” Nikla took another deep breath, confident of her decision to be there.

  Her mother took a large step to the side. “Come on in.”

  After a beat, Nikla walked into her mother’s home. The cozy place felt open and inviting despite what Nikla had assumed. When her mother left the family so suddenly, she thought she’d done it to sow some wild oats. She had expected to see a party palace with a bar, maybe even a disco ball in the center of the living room.

  With the colorful artwork on the walls, the multicolored rugs on the floor, and the multitude of vibrant plants scattered around the place, it looked more like an artist’s commune than a single’s pad.

  “I’m making tea. Would you like some?”

  Nikla scanned her mother’s appearance. In her floor-length caftan, she even looked like some hippie earth mother type, way different from how Nikla remembered her. Her mother had been a high-level executive at an electric utility company. Nicole Dearwood had been in power suits Mondays through Fridays. On the weekends, she wore khakis and crisp buttoned shirts. A great word to describe her would have been stiff. Now she looked loose and fluid, open like her home.

  “Tea? Yes, that would be fine.” Nikla followed her mother to her kitchen.

  The light green room made the place feel like a garden.

  “I don’t know what it’s like in Virginia, but I’m so glad the weather broke here. I hate a warm autumn.” Nicole set a white kettle on a stove eye and opened a cabinet over it. She pulled out two different colored mugs. One had cats on it. The other had “World’s Greatest Mother” emblazoned in red over it.

  “Remember that one?” Nikla’s mother smiled. “You and Junior gave that to me on Mother’s Day twenty years ago.”

  Nikla remembered. She and her brother had combined their money to buy the mug and a necklace that she never saw her mother wear.

  “Can’t believe you kept it.” Nikla pushed the mug away from her.

  “I kept everything you kids gave me.” Her mother put tea bags into each mug. “I didn’t think it would take you this long to come see me.”

  “I would have thought you would have sought me out first.”

  The teakettle whistled, breaking up the tension in the room. Nicole turned off the stove eye and removed the kettle from it. She poured hot water into each mug. After she placed cream and sugar on the table for Nikla, she sat down at the round table next to her.

  “You want to know why I left, right?” Nicole dunked her tea bag in the steamy water as she kept her gaze on it. She reconnected her stare with Nikla. “I never ever wanted to leave you and Junior.” After flavoring her tea with cream and honey, she stirred it as she smiled. “For several years, I was ill.”

  Nikla froze.

  “Depression.” Nicole looked at her daughter. She looked completely vulnerable. “I felt helpless and alone. I tr
ied talking to your father about it, but your father is, well–”

  “Dad.” Nikla completely understood what her mother meant. If he told Nikla to suck it up when she had her panic attacks, she could only imagine what he’d told her mother. He probably told her to just get happy.

  “He didn’t see my depression as a big deal. He said, ‘You have a great house, beautiful children, and a wonderful job. What else do you need?’ I needed to be myself and your father didn’t want to deal with anything. Stop crying, he would say. Suck it up, he would tell me. Snap out of it.” Until Nicole picked up her mug did Nikla notice her mother’s hand trembling. “I always argued with him when he made you feel bad about your panic attacks. I understood them.” Her mother wiped her eyes with a napkin.

  Nikla had to do the same thing.

  “I was so determined to be a good mother and wife that when I found myself in the bathroom contemplating downing a bottle of sleeping pills I knew I couldn’t be any good to anyone. I asked your father for help. He said that I just needed exercise and a good trip.” She snickered. “That’s when I knew I needed to help myself. I told him I would go to a place to get some help. He called me weak.”

  Nikla knew exactly what that felt like. Out of instinct and love, Nikla reached her hand out and held her mother’s. The warmth of it radiated through her body.

  “I waited until you had gone off to college before I did anything.”

  Nikla wiped her nose. “You waited to get yourself better because of me?”

  Her mother shook her head. “Please don’t think of it that way. I wanted to make sure you kids had a happy life before I handled my own. I wanted to stay. Your father didn’t understand me or my condition. So I went to the place where I knew I would get support. No place like home, right?” She blew her nose and smiled through her pain. “Is that the only reason why you’re here, to get the answer of why I left?”

  Nikla shook her head. “I met this guy. Our relationship is so, so complicated.” She would leave out the details of him spanking her and how much she truly enjoyed it. “I tried so hard to be a good daughter to Dad. I did so much for him, things that I shouldn’t have done. In the process, it made the man I cared about question my ethics and loyalty.”