by Sam Crescent
No one told him, and he kept his club open.
Slowly, little by little, the town was changing, just not fast enough.
“I’m happy where I am, Sophie. You know that.”
“Mom and Dad are not coming back, Is.”
“I know this. I’m not sticking around for them.”
“Then who?” Sophie asked.
“You okay, babe?” Edward asked, almost as if she had thought him into reality.
“Edward?” Sophie asked.
“I’ve got to go. Chat soon.” Before her sister could say anything more, she hung up. “Hey,” she said. “I thought you were busy.”
“I was. Peter was worried, and thought I should come and check on you.”
“I’m fine.” She pocketed her cell phone, wanting to do anything but look at him. It was embarrassing thinking what she did. “I just … I like to clean.”
“How is everything?” he asked, taking a seat beside her.
“It’s fine. It’s all fine. I would have called if nothing was fine.”
He stared at her for several seconds. “You look sad.”
“I’m fine.”
“You keep saying that.”
She smiled. “It’s because there’s nothing wrong. Seriously, I’m okay.” The feelings she was experiencing were nothing new. She was used to them. They were a kind of weird ass comfort.
“The key to a good relationship is to have truth with each other, Isabel. I need you to trust me before we can do anything else like that.” He took her hand. “I know you’re lying to me, but I can see that you believe that you’re fine. You’ve lived with this for so long you don’t even see what is going on. Just remember, I won’t always be so lenient about this. I want you to be open with me, honest about everything. I care about you. I want you to be happy, and to be safe. The only way I can do that is if you trust me enough to open up.” He then leaned in close and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
Chapter Five
“Is there something wrong with her?” Sophie asked, three days later.
“Nothing at all. I just need you to talk to me about all of your troubles.”
Edward heard her sigh on the phone. “I don’t like this. I talk to Is about everything, and now you’re telling me I can’t. I don’t like it.”
He ran a hand down his face, trying to clear his head. The scotch he had hadn’t done enough to numb his brain, or his cock. “Isabel has sacrificed a great deal for you over the years, and she has never had anyone to lean on. Not your parents, or relatives, not even friends. I’m the only person she has. I’m not asking you to not talk to her. I’m asking you that any troubles, any money you need, or bills, or problems, you phone me. No one else. I will handle it.”
Sophie went silent on the other end. “Do you love her?”
“What?”
“You’re going to a lot of trouble for someone you don’t love.”
“I care a great deal.”
“Do you look yourself in the mirror when you say that? I’d say you were in love, and you’re making sure that my sister can depend on you. You don’t think I don’t know my sister has problems? I do.”
Edward tensed up. If he found out that Sophie knew the shit Isabel was doing, he was going to go fucking crazy. “What do you mean?”
“My sister, I’m taking this class right now, human psyche or something. Anyway, it got me to thinking about Is. You know I’ve never seen her cry.”
“What?” Edward asked.
“Yep. Growing up she never cried, she never argued. I’d say she was a doormat, but you know what, I think she was just relied on too damn much. I hate my parents, I really do, and I hate the town of Cape Falls. They don’t care about anyone but themselves. I never knew the truth of what was really going on. Being at college, talking to people, Is deserves so much. I’m asking you, do you love my sister, or at least care about her? I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I do. You hurt my sister, I will personally hurt you, Edward Banner.”
Sophie didn’t have a clue the extent of Isabel’s pain. No one did. She had been that good in keeping it to herself. He stared at Sophie, and for as much as she claimed to love her sister, she didn’t have the first clue about her. Yes, Sophie was a nice person, kind, caring, and all of that, but she had never even looked all that close to home to see where she was needed. Edward stared, and wondered if the way Cape Falls people really felt had somehow projected onto Sophie. She just assumed that because Isabel was the older sister, she had to go through everything, while she was an entitled little brat.
He was starting to understand it, not the full extent, but he wanted to help, more than anything. No one had ever stopped to consider Isabel. No one but him, and he was going to make sure no one else ever did that again. What scared him the most was that there wasn’t all that much help there with Isabel’s … condition.
At least she had opened up to him, given him a reason to believe that she cared, and that she wanted the help that he wanted to give.
“I care about your sister, Sophie. I would never do anything to hurt her. I’m going to help her, and be that person to rely on. Trust me, and all I ask is that you come to me, okay?” he asked.
He didn’t want to ask. He wanted to instruct, and he wanted to get his way.
“Yes, I will. I’m not going to stop talking to her. I won’t lie either.”
“I’m not asking you to lie. I want you to consider what she has gone through to get you here. She needs me, and I need her,” he said. “You don’t have a single clue about what is going on with your sister. You assume everything, and you know what? That’s fine. Isabel can’t rely on you or anyone else.” In that moment, he hated Sophie, and every single person of Cape Falls.
“Edward? I don’t—”
“I don’t want to hear anything. I told you what to do, and if you value your sister for even a second, you’ll do as I say. I won’t ask again.”
“You love her?”
“Yeah, I do. I’ve got to go now.”
She said her goodbyes. Hanging up the phone, he stared across the room at where Isabel was sleeping. It took him several seconds to calm down, and to get his rage under control.
Three days ago, Peter had come to him and told him what happened. Edward didn’t know yet what was wrong or why Isabel suddenly withdrew, but he wanted to find out. All his friend had been doing was talking about his wife, and Isabel had changed. Why? After three days of being with her at Control, of talking her through the different kinds of submissives, and the different playrooms, he was no closer to discovering the truth. Entering her room, he sat down in a chair, looking at her. It was a little after eight in the morning, and she still looked so peaceful. She wore a long nightshirt that covered her arms, and landed to her knees. There was never any part of her exposed for long. The nightshirt covered her scars more than modesty.
When Peter called him he had been in William’s office talking with a doctor about her self-harm. Daisy had been there as well, and listened to the minimal advice that could be given. Self-harm was different for everyone, and had many different causes.
He didn’t think that Isabel’s was a cry for help. She didn’t ask or want help, and it hadn’t changed when he had taken over.
There was no abuse in her life either. Her parents simply didn’t care. She had no other problems to be concerned, and the doctor had advised that it was not about mental health. Anyone has the ability to self-harm.
This was such a complex situation. He didn’t want to think of it as a problem. This wasn’t a problem that needed to be solved. The doctor had warned that he may never stop her from repeating her same cycle, and if he tried anything too drastic, it could send her spiraling as a way of coping. She hadn’t hurt herself to the point of hospitalizing her, so in a weird way, she had control. Edward couldn’t understand it. If someone hurt themselves, then there had to be something wrong. Self-harming, it wasn’t like that. He hated this feeling of helplessness.
Edward believed from the brief information that Sophie had provided, and what Isabel had told him, and what he knew, that cutting was the only way she could express herself. The pain of the knife, the control, everything was in her hands, and she could finally feel or at least numb everything else. Lose her head, and just focus on the blade and her skin.
He had opened up her kit. It was so clean, so concise, and so chemical, her little box. There were sanitary wipes and fresh blades. There were no rusty blades. They were all sharp and ready to use. He doubted she ever used the same blade.
Isabel rolled over and released a little moan.
How could he help this woman?
She meant so much to him.
His friend had told him to start thinking about his feelings when it came to her. Isabel wasn’t just some woman he could use and discard. The very thought made him sick to his stomach.
He didn’t want to throw her away.
Edward wanted to keep her. He wanted to love her, and be loved by her.
Staring at the woman that had him in knots, he knew this went far beyond caring. He was connected with this woman. No matter what, he had to make sure she was safe, she was taken care of, and that she was loved. More than anything she was loved.
Isabel opened her eyes and smiled. “Hey,” she said.
“Hey, you.”
“What time it is?” she asked, rolling over and groaning, looking at the clock. “I slept in.”
“You did, and there’s no need to stress about it.”
“What about Control?”
“It’s our day off. I’ve got a good thing going with the boss so I can take any time off I need, and seeing as you belong to me, I can take you with me.” He got up from the chair, and made his way toward the bed. Sitting down on the bed, he reached out, pushing her hair off her face.
“I must look a mess.”
He shook his head. “Not at all. You’re beautiful.”
“So, our day off? What would you like to do?”
Her cheeks were a glorious red color. She couldn’t even accept when he called her beautiful.
“You’ve not had many compliments in your life, have you?”
She shook her head. “You don’t need to say nice things to me.” She sat up with the blanket around her lap. He watched as she tucked her hair behind her ears, and released a breath. “I don’t need pampering.”
“I wouldn’t dream of pampering. I will pay you a compliment, and you will accept it. So say, ‘thank you, Edward’.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Say it.” He made sure to put on his Dom voice so she knew he wasn’t kidding around.
“Thank you, Edward.”
“I know I’m beautiful,” he said.
“I can’t say that.”
“It’s what I want to hear, and what I say.”
Again with another eye roll.
“I know I’m beautiful.” She pressed her hands against her face. “Wow, that sounds so wrong. I can’t even believe I said that.”
He chuckled. “I won’t make you say it in public in front of everyone. You need to lighten up a little, baby. Accept a compliment because they are going to be coming.” He reached out, moving her hands out of the way, and placing a finger beneath her chin. Staring into her eyes, he found himself melting once again. The color didn’t matter to him. There was so much emotion in their depths. Behind them was a woman with so much warmth and passion that with the right guidance, he could bring it out of her, and nurture her. He wasn’t going to ever give her up.
This was it for him, for life. She was going to belong to him. William thought he was crazy for making that commitment so soon after only just stating his intentions. Edward just knew. No woman had ever left him feeling this way.
He wanted her.
“Your eyes struck me first, Isabel. The day I walked into the diner. I would have stayed all day and all night if I could. All I ever wanted was to see what was really going on in that head of yours.”
“I’m sure there have been plenty of women in your life over the years.”
“There have. I’ve had my share of younger women, older ones, kinkier ones, easy ones. I’ve even done a couple of slutty ones, and yeah, I’ve loved every single second that I’ve been inside them.” He saw the jealousy in her eyes. “But none of them ever made me want to sit and stare at them. I’ve been with women, fucked them, and had them out of my life within an hour. You, Isabel, are different.”
“I bet you say that to all of them.”
He shook his head. “No. I don’t. I’ve never been the kind of person to say shit I don’t mean. You say stuff that you don’t mean, people end up hurt. I don’t do that. Those women, they knew I only wanted a fuck. I never wanted to sit and watch them, or take my time getting to know them. I certainly didn’t want to share meals with them, my life, my home, my friends. I want to share that with you. I will never hold anything back from you, baby. I promise.”
Tears filled her eyes, and he noticed her hands were fidgeting in her lap. “Complete truth and trust?”
“Yes.”
She nodded. “I was, erm, I was sad the other day. It was like a switch went off, and I couldn’t stop it. Peter was talking about Rose, his wife, and I saw the smile on his lips. It’s the kind of smile that people who are in love give about each other. Even my parents had it for each other, even if it was fleeting.”
“Why did that make you sad?”
“Because no one has ever thought of me like that. I know it’s silly, and I feel completely stupid for thinking it. I guess I was just upset, and a little jealous. No one is ever going to love me that deeply. All the men at Control, they love their women like that?” she asked.
He nodded. “Not all love is like that though.”
“I want that. Don’t you?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“You didn’t even hesitate.”
“It’s what I want, babe. I want that kind of love.” He took her hand, and gave it a squeeze. “Maybe we could find that with each other?”
“Do you really think that is possible?”
“Anything is possible. You’ve just got to give yourself a chance to believe.”
****
Edward left her long enough to get changed, and when her usual jeans and long sleeved shirt were in place, she met him in the kitchen for breakfast. There was nothing out of the ordinary so far. They talked about the latest headlines in the paper, and about the quality of the bacon and eggs.
She couldn’t get their conversation out of her head.
“It’s what I want, babe. I want that kind of love. Maybe we could find that with each other?”
“Do you really think that is possible?”
“Anything is possible. You’ve just got to give yourself a chance to believe.”
Was it possible for Edward to fall in love with her? She already knew her feelings for him. She loved him, knew without a doubt that she did. Her feelings when it came to him had been building from that very first time he walked into the diner.
She had been captivated by him, and now, she wanted to be everything he needed.
It had been nearly two weeks since he had taken her kit from her, and she hadn’t felt the need for it. There was no weekly ritual in her life for the kit. It wasn’t like she set a day every week, and then stuck to it.
The only time she had used it was when she couldn’t stand not to. The longest she had been without hurting herself was three months. Three months she could handle. Two weeks were a piece of cake.
Cleaning the dishes, she felt Edward close beside her. He stood, drying up the dishes that she washed.
The cut on her thigh was all healed up, and she didn’t know how to tell him.
Her body was on fire for him. She wanted him so badly. Her dreams at night were getting hotter.
With no release, she was finding it hard to concentrate on anything else. His hands looked so big, and she wondered what they would be like on her bod
y, touching her. Her imagination was running riot right now.
“My legs are fine,” she said, blurting the words out, and cringing as she finished.
“I’m sorry?”
“My leg. It’s fine. No more damage.” She had still covered it with tape just in case. She didn’t want to risk the scab opening up and bleeding.
Handing him the final plate, she cleaned the sink up and washed her hands.
“Show me,” he said.
Staring at him, and around the kitchen, she licked her dry lips. She wasn’t nervous about showing him her healed leg. No, she was more nervous about him discovering the truth of her arousal. She was wet. Even her panties were wet.
Grow up. You’re twenty-five for God’s sake. Get your shit together.
Unbuttoning her jeans, she lowered the zipper and wriggled the jeans down to her knees. The shirt she wore covered her thighs, so she lifted it up. All she wanted to do was cover up. Most of her old scars were faded, some of them just silvery strips similar to wounds made in surgery. Only hers were not perfect.
She had never gone too deep, or hurt herself to the point that she needed to go to the hospital for stitches. As with all things in her life, she had been careful.
Holding her shirt at the apex of her thighs, she was praying that he didn’t notice her wet panties, or the scent of her arousal.
Isabel truly believed that she could smell herself. Edward knelt down, and she watched him as he removed the Band-Aid from her thigh. The scab was nice and clean. For as long as she could, she kept it exposed so the scab would form quickly. She had even opted for some skirts to help with the process, only long skirts though, down to her ankles, hiding everything.
“Remove your jeans,” he said.
She kicked off her slippers, and stepped out of the jeans as he inspected her leg. It was just the one, which she was happy about. Still, the damage had been bad enough.
“I think I cleaned it really well,” he said.