Trust Me: A BDSM Romance

by Cate Bellerose

  “I can’t. No. Not yet. I’m sorry.” Words pour out of me as I struggle with my zipper. It was difficult enough when I put it on the first time, but now that I’m so off kilter, it’s nearly impossible.

  “Can I at least help you with that? I won’t touch you. Just pull the zipper up. Then we can talk about this later, if that’s what you need.”

  I make one more frustrated try, but lose my grip on the little metal tab. Burying my face in my hands, I try to stand as still as I can, though I’m shaking like a leaf. Then I nod. “Okay, just… just don’t touch.”

  “Okay. Okay, I’ll try. I’m coming up behind you, really slowly okay? I’m not going to make any sudden moves. Just your zipper.”

  For a moment, I think this is going to work. Maybe I can even calm down a little so we can figure it out. He just has to get the—

  “No, keep away.” I leap forward out of his reach at the first sensation of his hand near my back. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I need to get out.”

  He stares at me, obviously frustrated by his helplessness.

  Holding my dress up with one hand, I use the other to push the door open. Keegan starts as if he’s going to follow, but holds himself back. “At least tell me where you’re going. You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

  I shake my head. Everything is wrong. My chest aches, and my cheeks are wet with tears. “I can’t…” I push the door back with my ass, keeping myself facing him.

  “Are you going home? Let me order you a car and I’ll follow to make sure you get there safely. I’ll keep my distance.”

  He’s doing and saying all the right things. Why is this happening to me now, of all times? I thought I’d shaken my childhood off, but Dad’s still the devil riding on my shoulder.

  “Please. I need space. Please.” Now that I’m out in the hall, people are looking, and I hate their curious stares and the suspicious glances they’re sending Keegan. I look at the closest ones, a couple in leather outfits. “It’s not him. It’s me. He’s not doing anything wrong, I swear.”

  “Miranda,” Keegan calls from the doorway. As much as it must pain him, he hasn’t moved. He lifts his hand towards me, but as a look of sadness passes over him, he lets it drop again. “I just want to help.”

  The door to one of the private rooms pops open, and Amber peeks out, followed by Eric. “Miranda! What’s wrong?” She’s only half dressed, but she rushes over to me anyway and envelops me in a bear hug. I flinch at her touch, but relax quickly. Amber, at least, I can handle. She looks up at Keegan. “If you’ve hurt her, I swear to God I’m going to tear off your head and stuff it up your ass!”

  I pat at her, trying to get her attention. “It’s okay. Please. It’s not his fault, I promise.”

  Keegan approaches Eric with a serious look on his face. “I need you to help make sure she gets somewhere safe, home or wherever she asks.”

  Eric frowns and narrow his eyes. “Is there a reason she can’t trust you to do that?”

  “Please,” Keegan asks, hands raised. “She had a bad reaction to something during our scene and right now, I’m a reminder of whatever that is.”

  Intense embarrassment, no, utter humiliation, settles down over me like a big, ugly blanket that Amber’s friendly arms can’t keep away. “He didn’t do anything wrong, honest. I’m the one that’s broken.” The look on Keegan’s face at my words just makes me feel guiltier.

  Eric makes a quick trip into their room to get the rest of Amber’s clothes. She takes them gratefully and tugs them on in a hurry while he glares at the onlookers who suddenly realize they have other places to be. “I’ll go get the car and meet you up front.”

  My heartbeat flutters unhappily. “Um, is it okay if just Amber drives?”

  “What? Why?” Eric takes a step back, confused.

  “I just… I just want to go home,” I say in a small, sad voice. I’m ruining everyone’s night and it’s all my fault.

  Something in my tone seems to get through, and he nods. “Whatever you need, alright? I’ll take a cab back to our place later. You and Amber take all the time you need.” He directs another pointed glance in Keegan’s direction.

  Not that Keegan sees it, because he’s totally focused on me. “I’ll give you an hour, then I’m sending a text if I don’t hear from you. You don’t need to talk to me if you don’t want, but let me know you all right either yourself, or have Amber do it.”

  “I’ll make sure she’s okay,” Amber announces, shrugging into her short leather jacket. “Let’s get you out of here, babe.” She takes my arm and pulls me along, dragging me past more gawking faces. I don’t even care if they look, so long as I don’t have to stay.

  Two minutes later, Amber and I are outside and I take a deep breath. The air is cool tonight, but inside it felt like my lungs were too small, and now I can finally start to relax. I know if I turned around, I’d see Keegan and probably Eric at the doors, but I can’t bring myself to make that connection, not yet.

  Amber slips her arm around my waist and leads me down the street towards the parking lot. She doesn’t say anything until she’s got me in the car and is pulling out. “So what happened in there? You freaked out.”

  I shake my head before I drop it into my hands. “It’s nothing.”

  “Like hell it is.” She gives me a withering look.

  “Watch the road.” I point.

  She returns her attention to the windshield, but that doesn’t keep her from talking. “You went ballistic. I heard you through the door. That’s not the quiet wallflower that I’ve gotten to know.” She sighs. “God, you’ve got me on edge now too. But if Keegan has done anything to you that you didn’t want him to—”

  “He didn’t. Please. You all think it’s him, but it’s me. I’m the one who went all crazy, and now I’ve embarrassed him, and maybe even gotten him in trouble. I don’t know how to fix this, but I’ve messed up.”

  “A reaction like that isn’t messing up. That’s something happening. Something significant. What you need right now is support, good friends and comfort. Is your mom still at your place?” I nod, though Amber must see the grimace that accompanies it. “Do you want to crash at our house tonight? We can talk, I’ll make hot cocoa, and I’ll tell Eric to take a hike for the evening. If he calls Paul or Gabe, I’m sure either of them would be happy to let him crash on the couch for the night.”

  Amber is a sweetheart, but just because I’m a basket case, doesn’t mean I can intrude like that. “No, I couldn’t chase Eric out of his own home. Just drive me—”

  “It’s decided then. I’ll call him once we get there. And you can call you mom and let her know, so she doesn’t get worried.”

  “Amber.” For the first time since I freaked, I feel a little smile coming. “Honestly, you can take me home. I need to talk to Mom anyway.”

  “And you will, after we’ve had a girls’ night in. I’ll find something sappy or funny on Netflix and we’ll huddle up under blankets and drink hot chocolate. Or something stronger, if you prefer that. And then we’ll talk, if you want.”

  I give up. What Amber wants, Amber gets.

  She pulls into their garage and phones up Eric while I call Mom who seems relieved that I’m with a girlfriend. After that, we do exactly what she said, and while La La Land plays on the TV, I tell her the whole story. It’s cathartic, but the whole time, I wonder how Keegan is doing and where he is. When my phone beeps, I’m not ready to talk to him yet, and without saying a word, Amber picks hers up and sends a quick text. By the time the whole mess starts to feel far enough off that I’d consider looking at my messages, we’re both so tired that we pass out in her living room.

  24

  Miranda

  “Hello? Anybody home?” I shut the front door to my apartment behind me. It’s almost noon, but Amber refused to let me leave before she’d made me breakfast. Eric had already called, asking if it was okay for him to come home yet, and I was feeling bad enough for him getting booted out as it was. A
mber is wonderful, but she does what she wants, when she wants, that’s for sure.

  “Miranda!” Mom appears from the living room. She smiles, but her face looks drawn. “You’re back. Are you okay? You sounded… off on the phone last night. And this sudden sleepover. I’ve hardly slept, worrying about you.”

  She opens her arms, and I hug her back. Yeah, she drives me nutty, but she’s my mom, and what happened last night reminded me of something. We’re survivors together.

  “I’m going to make myself a hot chocolate, and then I want to talk. Is that okay? Do you want anything?”

  “Of course that’s okay. Don’t worry about me. I’ve still got a half-full mug of tea.”

  A few minutes later, I drop into the couch opposite hers after putting my mug on the coffee table. “So…”

  Mom puts down her knitting magazine with a frown and searches my face for clues. “What’s going on with you? Is it Keegan?”

  “No. Well, yes.” I shake my head. “Sort of.”

  “Well, now that you’ve cleared that up…”

  I lean back, blowing hair out of my face in frustration. How do I even begin to explain? How much needs explaining? “Dad ruined my date.”

  Mom’s eyes go wide at that. Her voice shakes when she asks, “Your father? He’s not—”

  “Oh God, no. He’s not here. I haven’t spoken to him since… well, since before we ran. That’s not what I meant. When I was out with Keegan, we got in… a situation, where I suddenly got a flashback from… from back then.” I drop my hands to my lap and squeeze them nervously between my thighs. I feel like a little girl again, helpless.

  Mom gets up, comes around the coffee table and sits next to me before wrapping me up in a big hug. “Oh, baby girl. This is why I finally ran. I just wish I’d done so earlier. Or that I’d never met him in the first place.”

  I cling to her in a way I haven’t done since I was little. I rest my head on her shoulder and close my eyes. “No, I’m glad you met him. Otherwise I wouldn’t be me, and I wouldn’t have you. I just wish he wasn’t… well, you know.”

  She nods. “You are the only part of that relationship that wasn’t a mistake. If I had to go through it all over again just to get you, I would.”

  “Well, I’m here, so you won’t have to.” I tighten my hug with a smile.

  After a few minutes of cuddling, Mom pats my back. “So what happened? I’m a little afraid to ask what Keegan might’ve done to bring this on, but you know I’m here for you, no matter what.”

  “It was… I don’t know how to explain this.”

  “Try me.”

  Nope, there’s no way I’m telling Mom about kinky play at a BDSM club. “He didn’t do anything wrong. I swear. It was just something about the way he moved, or something he said that pulled me right back to life with Dad. He couldn’t have known it’d trigger the response it did.”

  Mom strokes my hair, and it’s really soothing. “What kind of response?”

  “I heard Dad threaten me. Clear as day. And then it was like, I knew Keegan wasn’t Dad, but he was a man, you know? I totally freaked out.” I nuzzle closer.

  “Did he hit you?”

  My head snaps up at that, and I stare at her. “What? No!” I mean, technically, he did, but not like how she means.

  She holds my gaze, her expression tight, searching for the lie. I’m the first to look away. “Honey, I lived it. You know that. You can’t hide these things from me.”

  “He didn’t. Not really. Not like you’re thinking.”

  “Miranda.”

  I push off, and this time I meet her gaze again without fear. “It was an… intimate thing, okay? I’ll swear on whatever you want that it was totally consensual.”

  Her cheeks turn red. “Intimate?”

  I’d like topics I’d never want to discuss with my mother for a thousand dollars, please, Alex. “Do we have to talk about this? I’m not really comfortable with it.”

  Mom takes a deep breath and winces slightly as she speaks, “Was it like… spanking?” The word comes out in a strained whisper.

  Oh God. “Mom!”

  “I might be over the hill and about as boring as they come, but I’m not completely square. Your generation didn’t invent sex, Miranda. And as your grandmother reminded me occasionally, neither did mine.” She looks vaguely green, but determined.

  “Okay, look. Yes, it was… something like that.” I take a sip of my cocoa, only to find it almost all the way cooled. It’s still sweet and creamy, though, and it gives me a moment to gather my thoughts. “It was something I wanted to explore, but maybe… maybe I wasn’t really ready, and know Keegan probably thinks I’m a flake.”

  No, he knows I’m a flake. He’s my therapist after all.

  “Honey, if he loves you, he’ll love you, flakes and all, but you’re going to have to help me understand this.”

  “This?”

  Mom picks up her knitting and puts it back down again nervously. “Why would you want something like that? After everything we’ve been through.”

  Where do I even begin with this? “It’s hard to explain.”

  “Not too much detail, please.”

  At least that we agree on. “Yeah, of course. I think… I think I wanted to find a way to take back what Dad stole.”

  “How on earth could that help anything?” Mom looks both confused and horrified. “I’m sorry, but hitting is abuse.”

  “It’s not hitting. It’s just another way to spice things up, like wearing something sexy, or… I don’t know, saying naughty things.” I cringe internally at how lame I sound, but come on, I’m talking to my mom. About S. E. X. Kinky sex.

  She looks just as uncomfortable as I feel, but she hasn’t run away or called the police yet so it could be worse. “I think that’s about as much detail as I want about that, but I still don’t understand why you thought it would help you.”

  I’ve thought about this a lot, and Keegan and I talked about it in our sessions, before things got complicated. “Growing up with Dad the way he was, there was always the fear of violence hanging over us. Even before he finally hit me, there were so many times where I knew, I knew, he hit you, and I could see in his eyes that one day it would be my turn.” Mom’s eyes glisten with unshed tears, and she nods. “As I got older, I don’t know, maybe it was something I’d always be interested in, or maybe not, but I started to feel like this, um, spicy stuff, could help me not be so afraid. Because this time it would be my choice.”

  “Oh, honey. I’m not sure I’ll ever really understand.”

  “I know. That’s okay. Trust me, if it were up to me we wouldn’t be having this conversation, but as much as I love Amber, I need to talk to someone who was there.” I look right at Mom. “Someone who understands what we went through.”

  She grabs my hand and squeezes. For several long moments, we sit there in silence, not knowing what to say.

  “You should come home with me.”

  I sigh and shake my head. “I can’t hide away from this. I’ve been hiding my whole life, and I only just dared to face it head on. I really like this guy, Mom.” Maybe even love him. “And I’m afraid if I back away now, I’ll never get the courage to try again.”

  “You’re still young. There’s no need to push. You have plenty of time to—””

  “What if he’s the one? What if he’s the one and I let my fear of a man who doesn’t deserve the time of day scare me away from finding out?”

  The next time she speaks, her voice is small. “I can’t protect you if you stay here. There’s been too much hurt in your life already.”

  Says my mom, who’s been hurt more than anyone I know. I have to swallow before I choke up. “I know, but… but sometimes we have to face these things. And it makes us stronger. Think about you now, compared to before you dared break away from him. You’re the strongest person I know, Mom.”

  “Being strong is painful sometimes.” She sighs. “But if this is what you really want, you kn
ow I’ll always be there for you even if I don’t understand your choices.”

  I bite my lip, thinking immediately of how pain and strength can go hand in hand in a positive way too. Is that what went wrong? I’m just not strong enough? I can’t believe that. I refuse to believe that, but it’s something I should talk with Keegan about.

  God, if he even wants to see me again. After the way I ran out, leaving him there like he was some kind of criminal. I haven’t even had the courage to check my phone, though I know Amber let him know I was all right.

  All right.

  I’m so far from that it’s crazy.

  “What I want…” I trail off. What do I want? “I want to be able to do what I want, without being afraid of Dad’s memory haunting me while I do it. And I’m not going to be able to do that back home.”

  “Well, obviously I can’t convince you.” She sighs, then smiles faintly. “I have to try. Maybe I could move in here?” Mom laughs at the look on my face after she suggests us being roomies. “Kidding. I’d stay if you needed me, but this place isn’t for me. I’ve lived my life, baby. I might not be ready for the home yet, but I’m not like you, young and with my whole future ahead of me.”

  “You know I love you, right?”

  Mom hugs me tight. “I know. I know better than anyone how big your heart is, which is why as charming as he was when we met, I’m not sure how I feel about this Keegan anymore. Are you sure he deserves you?”

  “I am.”

  “I thought that about your father once.”

  “Sometimes trust is broken.” I sigh. “I realize that. I’m not stupid. Sometimes we trust the wrong people. But if we never trust again, is that any better? You’ve been alone for so long. Are you happy?”

  “How can you ask that? I have you.”

  There are tears in both our eyes, but we’re smiling too. “It’s not the same. I worry about you too, you know.”

  There’s a sadness in her face I wish I could wipe away, but there’s only so much I can do. Some burdens can be shared, but others we need to figure out on our own when we’re ready. She nods, slowly. “Maybe one day. Mr. Broswell has been slipping extra sausages in my bag lately. You never know.”