by Jenna Jacobs
Palming my tears, I stood and looked around the room. My toiletries still aligned the alcove, just as they’d been that first night. These men had taken care of me with such devotion, not just the first night, but every hour of every minute we’d been together.
Stop it. You’re never going to do the right thing if you keep re-living every goddamn second you spent with them. You fucked up. It’s time to go before you make an ever bigger fool of yourself.
Finally, the voice of reason decided to come through loud and clear.
I had no other viable options. I had to leave now and lick my wounds back home, or go down in a ball of fiery embarrassment in front of them. I wasn’t about to let the latter happen.
After gathering my toiletries, I marched back to the bedroom. Tossing my suitcases onto the bed, I tried to keep my eyes from wandering over their pillows. I refused to look at the empty mattress where they’d aspired me into the center of their universe. My mournful cry filled the air as I tugged on my clothes. I cleaned out the closet and drawers, stuffing my suitcases in minutes flat. Hastily digging out the rental key, I carried my belongings to the common area.
The couch still sat before the fireplace. So many nights we’d spent curled up by the fire, talking, touching, kissing…fucking.
“Enough!” I screamed, squelching the onslaught of memories.
I rounded the island, pulled a magnet-backed note pad from the refrigerator then rummaged through the utility drawer until I found a pen. Seated at the table, I gripped the pen so tight that my fingers turned white as I pondered what to write.
Tears filled my eyes once again. I blinked them away as I clenched my teeth. The time to fall apart had come and gone. It was time to grow the fuck up. I wasn’t some pubescent teen in the throes of a stupid sophomoric crush. I was a grown woman–acting like a child. “Stop it. Just fucking stop it!” I hissed.
Scrawling out the first thing that came to mind, I ripped the page from the tablet then carried it back to the bedroom and propped it atop my pillow. Forcing myself not to look back, I gathered my luggage and made my way down the long narrow hallway.
The rented Hummer sat alone in the gravel lot. It was a stark and haunting reflection of what was left inside me.
“You’re taking away exactly what you wanted, Savannah,” I whispered to myself in a terse tone. “Memories. That’s all you have. That’s all you get.”
I pressed the fob to unlock the vehicle and heaved my luggage into the back seat. I sucked in a deep breath as I made my way to Kit’s front door and rang the bell.
She opened the door, a bright smile on her lips. I mimicked her joy with an erroneous smile of my own.
“Hey, Savannah. Come on in. I’ll make us some coffee.” She beamed. “Kinda quiet down there with the guys out hunting? I saw them loading up early this morning.”
“Actually, it’s nice. I miss my alone time.” I lied. “I just wanted to pop up and say…see you next year. I’m going to go on home. There’s some painting I want to get done in the spare bedroom and I need to check my messages in case something’s come up for work. Time to get back into the grind.”
The lies rolled off my tongue with ease, but it was becoming increasingly more difficult to keep the tight smile on my face and reign in my tears. When Kit’s brows furrowed, I thought the jig was up and my heart pounded in my chest.
“Okay, sugar. You drive safe going home. No more deer. Do you hear me?” She warned.
I laughed, but it sounded hollow and fake. I wrapped her in a gentle hug and promised her I’d be careful.
Once on the road, I didn’t stop shaking until I’d hit the four-lane. The sun warmed my skin but my bones were icy cold. I turned on the radio and found a rap station. Cranking up the volume, I was determined not to be sucked in to sappy love songs that would only make me cry.
I tried not to wonder what Dylan and Nick’s reactions would be once they returned and discovered I was gone. Would they be relieved that their teaching days were over? I hoped they would welcome a day to relax and do what they wanted instead of what they felt obligated to.
The music blared with the heavy, chest-thumping beat. My head throbbed, a welcome distraction from the ache in my heart.
When I hit the Missouri/Iowa line, I stopped for gas and a cold drink. As I rummaged through my purse for my wallet, my cell phone rang. I clutched the phone, staring at the caller ID. It was Kit. Indecision filled me. Surely they hadn’t come back from hunting so soon. I’d only been on the road a couple of hours. My finger hovered over the “answer” display but I chickened out and sent the call to voice mail.
As I climbed back into the Hummer, it rang again. Guilt and dread filled me as I looked at the number on the glass panel. It was one I didn’t recognize. After sending it to voice mail, I turned off my phone, started the SUV and pulled back onto the highway.
My hands trembled and anxiety bloomed. Was the unknown number Nick’s phone? Were they mad? Were they hurt? Were they relieved? Maybe it hadn’t even been them. Maybe it was a wrong number. Maybe they didn’t even know I was gone. If I continued to roll every fucking question over and over, I’d go insane before I reached Kansas City.
If I’d had some experience with good-byes, I would have some tools to fall back on, some solid ground for a foothold. But no, I had to be a shy, awkward wallflower my whole life. I had to be the girl that had climbed inside herself after the death of her parents, afraid to love someone for fear they’d disappear on her again and leave her shattered and broken with no way to put herself back together.
It was enough of a risk to love Mellie as much as I did. She traveled endlessly. Every trip she took was a game of Russian roulette. But I’d prepared myself mentally; one day she might not make it home. We’d even made a pact. Each time she had to leave, she would call and tell me how much she loved me. We made sure we carried each other in our hearts, no matter where we went. Of course, there was Myron and Helen—but they’d also die someday and leave me to grieve another parental-type loss. I’d anticipated that day, as well.
“But I wasn’t ready for this. I’d given my heart to two men who didn’t want it. No. Somehow, I knew they wanted it; they just couldn’t accept it. I didn’t know how to gather up the shattered pieces and go on. I’d never learned how. Tears slid down my cheeks and the road blurred. I brushed them away and tried to clear my mind but it was a wasted effort.
By the time I pulled into my apartment complex, I was emotionally and physically exhausted. My feet felt like bricks as I unloaded the Hummer. Dropping the luggage on my bedroom floor, I crawled into my bed and cried.
I’d never get to feel their Dominance again. To experience that peace, knowing I’d brought them pleasure. Never float away beneath their masterful touch. Never feel safe within their care. I brought forth their images, in my mind and allowed the unmitigated pain to consume me. I longed to hear their voices one last time but knew it only prolong my heartache. I didn’t try to stave off the pain. Instead, I welcomed it, let it consume me so I could purge it from my system. I’d lived my ultimate dream for a few glorious days. But oh how I longed to go back and relive it one more time. To breathe in their virile scent, feel the comfort of their strong bodies next to mine, hear the praise from their decadent voices, and revel in their dominant commands.
“Why does it fucking hurt this much?” I wailed. Tears soaked my pillow. And as I tried to purge them from my heart, a dark fear settled deep in my soul. Fear that I would never be whole again.
Eventually, I dried my eyes and climbed out of bed. In a listless haze, I wandered to the kitchen and made a cup of tea. My movements were mechanical, robotic, and lethargic. I ran on autopilot and felt so dead inside, I wondered if I could get a starring roll in the next zombie apocalypse film.
Looking around the room, I couldn’t help but feel there was nothing there for me. Nothing but a way of life I no longer wanted to go back to. My quiet oasis felt like a giant, cavern. The silence that I reveled in before
was now a choking weight making it hard to breathe. Seated at the kitchen table, everything pressed against me until I wanted to scream. Gone were the rugged warm bodies that had held me tight. Gone was the thrill of bending to their command and granting them pleasure. Gone were the reassuring touches and the two words that sent my heart sailing…Good, girl.
The ring of my land-line phone nearly jolted me out of my chair. I glanced at the message light, pulsating in a slow red heartbeat. My own heart thrummed in double time as I sat at the table and stared at the cordless device. It rang and rang until my answering feature engaged. I held my breath.
“Sanna? Honey are you there? Please baby, pick up if you’re home. You’re not answering your cell and I’m going fucking bat shit here. Where are you? Come on baby, please pick up!” Mellie’s anxious pleas echoed through the room.
Rising to my feet with such force that my chair toppled back and landed with a thunderous crash, I snatched up the receiver.
“Mellie, I’m here. I’m okay. I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.” My words tumbled together in a frantic apology as my voice cracked.
“Thank Christ! Goddammit Sanna. You scared the living shit out of me.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“What the fuck is going on? I got a call from your Mr. Dreamy voice, Nick. Sanna, he’s pissed to the gills! What the fuck happened between you two?”
“Oh, Mellie. I fucked up. I fucked up big time.” Tears rolled down my face as I righted the chair and sunk back down on it.
Through sobs, I explained the whole mess…the Dom/sub stuff…everything. I expected her to be shocked but she wasn’t. She understood, which made me cry even harder. Her unconditional love was a balm over my raw and jagged edges.
“Baby, part of submission is being honest. If you don’t think they’d understand what you’re feeling then they weren’t the caliber of Doms you need.”
“How do you know that?”
“Let’s just say we’re cut from the same cloth,” she giggled. “You don’t think I’m this bossy and hardheaded all of the time, do you?”
“Holy shit, Mel. Why didn’t you tell me? Like, years ago?”
“Sanna! I know your sexual history,” she answered. “I didn’t tell you because I was afraid I’d freak the fuck out of you and you’d run for the hills, thinking your sister was some kind of kinky freak.”
“Yeah, well if I was in better shape, I wouldn’t have told you, either,” I sniffed.
“Okay, well we’re both out of the closet now. We’ll discuss that topic later. What are you going to do about Dylan and Nick? I gotta tell you, sugar, they are not happy campers.”
“There’s nothing I can do! I’m not going to call and say, Oh I’m sorry I didn’t ask your permission before I ran away but I couldn’t hang. Jezzzus, Mellie. There’s nothing left to say. It was a few days of Dom/sub fun, some amazing, mind-blowing sex but…that’s it. We’re not going steady. I’m never even going to see them again, so what’s the point? All it’ll do is make me look like a giant dipshit. I’d rather run away than let them see what I’ve done to myself.”
“Okay, so maybe it’s more than you’re comfortable confessing to them. They still have the right to know. And you can’t just up and walk out on them like that, without a word.”
“I had to, Mel. I couldn’t stay and fall apart in front of them. It would have been too fucking embarrassing.”
“So, you didn’t do anything embarrassing with them, say…sexually? Hrmmm?”
I could feel the smile in her words. Logic. She was going to try and trip me up with logic. Damn, that’s what Dylan and Nick did. My own sister shouldn’t try to pull the same shit.
“Don’t go there. This is totally different.” I warned.
“Well, I have to call him back. So, what do you want me to tell him?”
“Why do you have to call him back?” I gasped.
“Because I told him I would, once I found you. Honey, they’re honestly worried about you.”
“Shit!” I hissed. “Tell them I’m home safe and sound and…hell, I don’t know. Tell them I said thanks.”
“Thanks?” she choked. “That’s it?”
“Yes,” I said with a note of finality. “That’s it.”
Mellie issued a heavy sigh, mumbling that she’d pass the message along.
“Do you want me to fly up there and stay with you for a few days, baby? You sound like you could use some company and a soft shoulder.”
“No. I’m fine. Really. This shit will pass. I’ll just go back to”
What would I go back to? The life I left behind a week ago was like a wool sweater fresh out of the dryer. Tight and itchy.
“Back to what?” Mellie pressed.
“Back to research.”
“But Myron closed the office,” she reminded with a hint of doubt.
“I’m working on an article I’m trying to get published. I’ve got tons to keep me busy. Please, Mellie. I’m fine.”
“All right,” she sighed in exasperation. “But you’d better call me if you need me, understand?”
“You know I will. I love you sis. Love you so much.”
“I love you too, baby. Pour yourself a glass of wine and go relax in a bubble bath. You sound like you need it.”
“I will. Talk to you soon.”
As I hung up the phone I cringed. Dylan and Nick were mad. That wasn’t the reaction I expected. And what exactly did that mean?
“It means nothing other than you usurped their authority as Doms. Don’t read anything into it,” I groused aloud. Placing my fingers to my forehead, I tried to rub away a pounding headache. I dug my cell phone out of my purse and turned it on. There were at least fifty missed calls from the unknown number. “Nick,” I whispered in wistful reverence before I cursed and tossed it back in my purse.
Aimlessly wandering through my apartment, I stopped in the bathroom to take some aspirin but realized I’d not eaten breakfast or lunch. My guts were already eating themselves with anxiety. It would be like adding fuel to the fire if I popped the pain relievers on an empty stomach. With my fridge threadbare and a frozen dinner sounding as appealing as a worn leather shoe, I slung my purse over my shoulder and headed to the store.
Strolling through the aisles, I realized I should have stayed home and fixed the frozen meal; nothing looked the least bit appetizing. I grabbed a package of chicken breast and some vegetables for a salad then swung by the bakery. When in the throes of depression—eat cake! Even that looked disgusting.
You’ve got it bad if you turn your nose up at cake.
I was about to swing down the ice cream aisle when my cell phone began to ring. Fear gripped my heart as I palmed the device. Mellie. Relief washed over me.
“Hello?”
“Hey baby, I’m just checking on you. Are you feeling any better?”
“Mel, stop being a mother hen. I’m fine. Stop worrying. What did Nick say when you called him back?”
“He didn’t answer, so I just left him a message telling him you were back home and were fine. I don’t mean to pester you, but I know you’re hurting. Don’t hate me.”
“Aww, honey, you know I could never hate you. I love you for being worried, but honestly, I’m fine. I’m at the store…getting cake.” I lied.
“Ahhh, the magical powers of flour, eggs, sugar and whatever else they put in that crap.”
“Julia Child would be so proud,” I teased, hoping a little banter would ease her worries about me.
“You know I can’t boil water. Thank God for prepackaged foods.”
“Or you’d starve, yes. I know,” I chuckled.
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Seriously, Mel, I’m fine. Of course, I’m not where I want to be…” I wanted to be back in the barn, wedged between my two Mas--no, they weren’t my Masters. I swallowed tightly. “But like mom always used to say, ‘this shit, too, shall pass.’”
“It will, baby. An
d you’ll be a whole lot more happy when you find a club in town and get out amongst some other kinky people.”
“How do you know there are clubs here?” I asked suspiciously.
“Where do you think I learned about the lifestyle?” She laughed.
“Oh. Well maybe you can tell me where I should go…later. I’m not ready yet.”
“I can and will, whenever you’re ready. You just let me know.”
We said our good-byes before I checked out my groceries and drove back home.
As I slid my key into the lock of my apartment door, I noticed it didn’t stick like usual. When I pushed the door open, an ominous presence filled me. Reaching inside my purse, I fisted my Mace can. Flipping it to the unlocked position, I let my groceries and purse slide to the welcome mat. The interior was so dark, I couldn’t see into the shadows. Why had I pulled the curtains shut? Because of your headache, dumbass.
I opened the door as wide as possible, hoping to shed more light inside, but still failed to reach the murky corners. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.
CHAPTER TEN
With a tentative step forward, I breached the portal. The canister of Mace lay hidden in my fist. Even as I tried to convince myself the sinister, prickly feeling was from lack of sleep and my abnormal emotional state, I knew something was wrong.
Only once had I feared for my safety, but never in my own home. I’d been working in an old courthouse, in a bad part of town. It was late at night. Had it not been for the squeaky wooden floors, I never would have been alerted to the drunk coming up behind me. He’d somehow wandered in off the street and decided he was going to have sex with me…in a misguided, alcohol-induced way. Forcing me to the floor by my hair, he reeked in a vile combination of booze, feces and vomit. I knew he was going to try and rape me on the spot. I fought like hell, but not only did the vagrant outweigh me, he was strong as an ox, even for being toasted out of his gourd. My screams alerted the ancient night watchman, who came to my rescue and began beating the delusional drunk with his trusty flashlight. It was the encounter that convinced me to take up karate.