by A. Zavarelli
Why was he here?
That was the only question I had because I already knew what he’d be doing. There was only one reason for him to come here, but I didn’t know why. The why was what haunted me as I got out of the car and walked to the door, entering the same pin code I’d witnessed Lucian enter before.
Inside, I was stopped in the foyer, at the ready with an explanation, but the guys at the door were the same ones I’d seen before, and they recognized me immediately.
With a brisk pat down and a nod, I was granted entry into the house, and a part of me almost regretted it. I didn’t want to see what waited for me upstairs, but my feet drew me there regardless.
Up, and up, and up, I climbed until I reached that secret room that Lucian had first taken me. I took a deep breath and braced myself as I entered, uncertain how bad it was going to be. But nothing could have prepared me for what I found next.
Lucian was there, but he was alone. Sitting in a chair, staring into the distance at the empty table that was often used to secure his previous pain toys.
“Lucian?”
He looked back at me when I said his name, and I saw something so dead in his eyes, it scared me. This wasn’t the Lucian that I knew. This man was empty. This man was cold. And this man had lost all his warmth for me when he spoke. “What are you doing here?”
It sounded like an accusation, and it made me angry. “No, the question is, what the hell are you doing here?”
He didn’t answer, so I moved forward, demanding answers. “Thinking of your pain sluts,” I snarled. “Is that it?”
He blinked, and for a second, I thought he’d come back to me. “No, I was thinking of you.”
Regardless of my anger and confusion, my stupid heart filled with hope. “What are you doing here, Lucian? I’ve been waiting for you at home.”
He turned into me and dragged me against him without warning, his fingers unfastening the knot around my waist before he slipped my coat off. I was in nothing more than a nightgown, and my nipples were already hard for him.
Maybe it was primal, or maybe it was jealousy, but I wanted him, and he knew it. He knew it when he dragged his fingers down over the material around my chest and tucked it under my breasts, exposing me to him.
Part of me wanted to tell him no. I wanted to demand an explanation, but in the end, I could see it wasn’t necessary. His eyes told me what he wanted. They told me what he needed.
“Were you going to fuck someone else?” I accused.
He didn’t look at me as he traced his fingers around the edge of my nipple. “Get on the table.”
“No,” I said, but it was weak.
“You’re supposed to do as you’re told,” he answered flatly.
“And what are you supposed to do? Come here whenever you want even though you’re married to me?”
He didn’t answer.
“Is this the first time, or has it happened before?” I pressed. “Is this where you’ve been when you told me you were working on Emmanuel’s case?”
His eyes snapped up to mine, and they were scarier than I’d ever seen them. “Get on the fucking table!”
I took a step back from him, but he caught me around the wrist before I could really move. I didn’t want to fight with him—that was the last thing I wanted—so I didn’t resist when he led me to the table and scooped me up with his arms, spreading me out like I was his next meal.
“Lucian,” I tried again to find some calm in my voice as he disappeared behind me where I couldn’t see. “Tell me what’s going on.”
He didn’t tell me. Instead, he came back and looked right at me, eyes empty as he latched a leather cuff around my wrists and secured them above my head. My chest rose and fell at an accelerated rate, and I tried to calm myself with reassurances.
I trusted him. He wouldn’t hurt me. This was Lucian. I had no reason to be afraid.
But maybe that meant I had more of a reason to be afraid. Because the truth was, I hadn’t really known this side of him. The part of him he kept hidden away. The sadist filled with quiet rage.
The last time he’d brought me here, he told me repeatedly that I was safe in his care, and I believed him. He told me that I could say stop at any point, and he would listen.
“Lucian,” I tried again, but he worked noiselessly, attempting to secure my feet next.
“Stop.” I tried to jerk my foot away, but it was an empty action that served no purpose. His grip was unyielding, and my words weren’t even getting through to him anymore. He strapped down both of my legs, and I already felt like I couldn’t breathe as I strained against the confinements.
“Please,” I begged.
Still nothing. I barely saw a glimpse of his face when he returned before he secured the blindfold around my eyes. This was the worst thing he could possibly do to me, and he knew it. He knew it intimately, and what I couldn’t figure out was why he wanted to punish me.
“Lucian—”
I felt the leather edge of a crop as it trailed over my skin before his breath filled the shell of my ear. “I should whip you black and blue.”
I began to thrash against the table, fear driving me to overreact. It was a primal instinct. An instinct that made me realize I could never escape my past. It would always be a part of me, and no matter how much I thought I trusted this man, he was still capable of hurting me.
The thick edge of the leather smacked my left breast, and I sucked in air. It wasn’t hard enough to leave a mark, and it was nothing like what he did to the other girl when I watched, but I was terrified it might turn into that. I was terrified he was going to hurt me, and it was something we could never recover from.
“Lucian.” Tears poured down my cheeks as I shook my head back and forth. “Stop.”
He smacked me again, this time on the other breast. “But I’m only just getting started. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You wanted to be what I need? That’s why you came here, pet. Admit it. After all this time, you’re still trying to prove yourself.”
He smacked my thigh, and it made me jump. His words hurt. They hurt because they were so true.
“You can’t fucking prove yourself,” he snarled viciously. “Don’t you get it? This is the way the world works, pet, and you need to understand that. No matter what you do, no matter how much you want something, the universe will find a way to fuck you over. That’s what you need to learn.”
Whack.
I cringed at the sound of the leather in the air. It didn’t hit my skin, and I wanted to believe he was just using it to scare me, but I wasn’t sure what to believe anymore.
He continued his rant, making short choppy statements that expressed his fresh rage. A rage that seemed to bloom out of nowhere, something I couldn’t identify, and something I had no idea how to fix. There was only one way to get through to him, and I would hate myself for it.
The leather dragged over my skin, looking for the next empty space that he could leave his mark. I felt his hand draw back, and I didn’t know if this would be the time he took it too far, but I was done with this game regardless.
“Dawson,” I wheezed. “Dawson.”
It was the closest thing to a safe word I could think of. And when I heard the clatter of the leather on the ground beside the table, I knew it had worked.
THE ALARM ON MY PHONE went off at six, the same as every other day. But when my eyes rolled up toward the ceiling from my place on the sofa, it wasn’t just another day.
Instead of defending Emmanuel in court, I’d be making his funeral arrangements. The thought was sobering when I considered that for the past six months, my focus had been on beating this case.
It was never just about winning. My battles in court didn’t bolster my pride. I never counted my cases as victories when, in the end, it never felt like enough. For every case I won, there was another client out there somewhere I couldn’t help.
I was one man, and I was tired.
My body was giving out on me, and
I always knew this would be my last case. I’d been overconfident in my abilities to help both Emmanuel and Gypsy at the same time. But in the end, I had failed them both.
The sobering light of morning hadn’t erased my behavior last night. When I followed Gypsy home from the club, she locked me out of the master bedroom, and I didn’t try to soothe the raw wounds I’d created.
Instead, I stood outside the door and listened to her silent sobs as she cried herself to sleep. With every tear that fell on her pillow because of me, it only cemented my belief that I couldn’t be what she needed.
Maybe I’d helped her, and Gypsy would probably graciously say that I had, but it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. Because she’d made me fall in love with her. She made me want to stay. And every day, I found myself second-guessing my decisions. The path that had once been so clear was now filled with sharp turns and jagged edges I didn’t know how to navigate.
Gypsy Blue thawed my heart and brought me back to life just when I was getting ready to die.
I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and walked down to the guest bathroom. Since my release from prison, my routine had been the only thing that kept me grounded. Every morning, I got up at the same time. I showered and shaved and ate my breakfast, and I went to work. But today, I didn’t have the energy to do any of those things. I didn’t see the point.
I had a funeral to plan. And a woman down the hall who would be better off not seeing me at all. It didn’t make it any easier to walk out on her, knowing that it would hurt her when she woke up and discovered I was gone. But during the process of trying to teach her, I’d learned something about myself.
I was a coward.
And Gypsy, whether she knew it or not, would be better off without me.
“HELLO?” I ANSWERED SLEEPILY.
“Are you okay?”
I paused to reflect on the voice I’d just heard before I checked the screen, confirming my suspicions.
“Luna?”
“Yes, it’s me,” she said softly. “Hi.”
I didn’t know what to say to her, so I didn’t say anything at all for a minute. My head hurt, and my eyes were puffy, and all I wanted to do was go back to sleep.
“I hope you don’t mind that I called,” she said. “But I just felt… like you needed me right now.”
Again, I didn’t answer, and she laughed uncomfortably. “I must sound like a nut job to you.”
“No,” I said finally. “You don’t. It’s been… a rough couple of days.”
“I thought so,” she replied. “I’m sure you have a lot going on, but if you’re up for it, maybe we can grab a tea or something.”
I tried to force a smile for her benefit before I remembered she couldn’t see me. “That’s a really nice offer, but I’m just not sure I’m feeling up to it right now.”
“It’s okay,” Luna answered. “I get it. But I’ll be around the city today, if you change your mind.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
We hung up, and I stared at the closed bedroom door. The clock said it was past eight, and I hadn’t heard Lucian get up. He never tried to come in either, and I wasn’t quite sure what I would find when I padded down the hall, but after only a few minutes of investigation, it was obvious I was alone in the house. And suddenly, I didn’t want to be there at all.
I texted Luna and told her I’d changed my mind, and within thirty minutes, I was on my way to tea.
“He has cancer,” I blurted.
“I know.” Luna stared into her cup of tea without moving, and I didn’t want to believe her, but she hadn’t even blinked at my declaration.
“How could you know?”
“I don’t know how to explain it,” she said. “It’s just… a feeling I get. Sometimes dreams. I don’t hear anything crazy like voices in my head. It’s not like that. It’s just… feelings.”
“That’s what you felt that night?” I asked. “Isn’t it?”
She nodded, but it was stiff. I felt like there was more she wasn’t telling me, but I wasn’t sure.
I wrapped my hands around the warm cup of Earl Grey. “What kind of feeling did you get? How did you know?”
“I didn’t know it was cancer.” Her hand moved up to her collarbone, absently rubbing the area. “But I suspected. Something in his chest, right? I felt it.”
“He told me it was bronchitis,” I answered. “But his medical records said there’s a mass in his chest.”
Luna nodded and took a sip of her chai. “I thought so.”
“I’m pregnant too.”
Luna blinked and dipped her head, and a solitary tear fell down her cheek, surprising me. She reached out to touch my arm, and I didn’t back away the way I usually would. “You’re going to be a good mother.”
“I don’t know about that.” I glanced out the window. “I don’t even know how to tell Lucian. I’m afraid he’s going to be angry. And now there are so many uncertainties ahead of us, I’m terrified.”
“He won’t be angry,” Luna assured me. “And no matter what happens, you will get through it. Your blood is strong. You are resilient. I believe in you.”
Her words meant a lot more than she could ever know, and I didn’t realize how much I’d needed to hear them.
“You should do whatever you feel is right,” she said. “Your instincts won’t lead you astray.”
“I wish I could believe that,” I whispered.
“Just trust that everything will work out the way that it’s intended.” She smiled sadly. “What other alternative is there?”
I SPENT THE DAY MAPPING out my course of action, confident that it was the right one. When Lucian got home tonight, we would sit down like adults and discuss what happened last night.
After taking some time to digest my thoughts on the incident, I knew something was up with him. I just wasn’t quite sure what it was. He usually talked to me if something was bothering him, but this time, it came out of left field and blindsided me. He needed to know that it was unacceptable. And then, he needed to know that regardless, I was there for him.
I decided to broach the subject of his cancer first because that was the most pressing issue. Even as tenuous as things were between us, I wanted to maintain hope. I wanted to convince him that he could and should fight, and I was determined to do it without bringing up the subject of the baby. With his history, the last thing I wanted to do was corner him with the announcement.
Lucian needed to choose life without feeling tricked into it, and I believed he would. I was certain of it. Or maybe, I was just deluded.
When I woke up on the sofa at midnight with still no sign of him, I began to wonder if we were set to have a repeat of the night before. I checked my phone and saw nothing from him, and the fracture in my heart split a little deeper. I sat up and stared at the door, debating what I should do. But when I saw his shoes there, I realized he had come home.
It didn’t take me long to find him. When I wandered down the hall, his office door was open, and he was at his desk. But this wasn’t the Lucian that I knew. His clothes were wrinkled, and his face was covered with a day’s worth of growth that he usually kept clean. That wasn’t what bothered me. What bothered me was the alcohol I could smell from the doorway, seeping from his pores.
“Have you been drinking?” It was a stupid question, considering that the bottle of whiskey sat on the desk in front of him. But I wanted an explanation that would make sense. I’d never seen Lucian drink before.
“What does it matter, pet?” He smiled, and it was lopsided, his gaze moving over my body with a hunger that always managed to stir something inside me, even when I was angry.
We needed to talk, but it was clear it wouldn’t be while he was in this condition. I moved forward, confiscating the bottle of whiskey from the desk, and Lucian laughed.
“Do you think that’s going to stop me?”
“What is going on with you?” I demanded. “Is this because of the trial?”
The humor di
sappeared from his face in an instant, and his dark eyes settled on my face like a knife. “Don’t talk about the trial. It’s none of your business.”
The viciousness of his voice hit me like a brick, and instinctively, I took a step back. I didn’t know who was in this room, but it wasn’t Lucian. The Lucian I knew was always serious but thoughtful. He was protective and considerate of my feelings. But right now, the man sitting across from me was a stranger.
“I think I should go.”
Without warning, he stood and came around the desk, his fingers locking around my arm. For a split second, there was fear in his eyes. But more than that, there was devastation. So much devastation.
I wanted him to tell me what was wrong, but instead, he just said, “We have a contract. You’re not going anywhere.”
“I meant down the hall,” I murmured.
His grip on me relaxed, and he seemed to shake off his thoughts as he let me go.
“You’re right,” he said solemnly. “You should probably do that.”
The locking mechanism on the office door clicked into place as I retreated, and the agony in my chest uncoiled, spreading throughout my entire body.
As I poured the rest of the whiskey into the bathroom sink, I considered locking him out of the bedroom again. I doubted he’d be coming anyway, but in the end, I realized that I wanted him to have the option just in case.
It felt like the earth had just opened up between us, shifting in different directions and creating a huge divide that neither of us could breach. My head hurt, and I was heart sick, and I wasn’t good at dealing with these situations on my own.
I needed my Lucian back. I needed him to tell me that everything was going to be okay because right now it felt like it wasn’t. But he didn’t come while I brushed my teeth or climbed into bed. He didn’t come while I stared up at the ceiling and tried to sleep.
Instead, he came to me in the middle of the night when I was trapped in the clutches of a dream. I thought I was still in another world when I felt him lay his head on my forearm while he balled my nightgown in his fists.