Beyond sanity, she knew she still sobbed but she felt drained, weak. He’d never moved even though he breathed heavily.
She shoved him as hard as she could and he rolled onto his side. He wouldn’t look at her.
“You fucking asshole!” she sobbed. “Why won’t you fucking say anything! What the fuck is wrong with you!”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“That’s not good enough!” When she lost her balance and fell back onto her ass she kicked at him, caught him in the thigh. “That’s not fucking good enough, you bastard!” She kicked him again, recognizing it probably didn’t hurt him in the slightest.
She fell back onto the carpet and sobbed, screamed, cried, tried to hold on to her sanity.
He didn’t move.
“You fucking asshole,” she raggedly gasped as she rolled over and pressed her face to the carpet. This couldn’t be happening. This had to be a really bad nightmare.
After she caught her breath she sat up. He lay where he’d fallen when she shoved him. She started pounding on him again with her fists. “I want him back!” she screamed. “I want my fucking Master back! You took him from me and I want him!” She fell back again, panting for breath. “Sit up!”
she screamed. “Fucking face me like a man!”
He rolled onto his knees. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”
Another wordless, strangled cry broke free as she launched herself at him. She tried to claw his eyes. This time he did react. He caught her arms and spun her around, pinned her to him, her back against his chest and her wrists caught in his as he held his arms crossed around her.
She shrieked, cried, kicked, and finally went limp as she sobbed. “You took him from me, you fucking bastard! I want him back. You fucking son of a bitch, I want him back!”
He knew he deserved every bit of it and more. He held her as she cried in his arms, trying to ignore how painfully thin she felt compared to the last time he held her. He never would have let her get this skinny if he’d been with her. “I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered through his own tears. “I’m so sorry.”
She cried long and hard, not struggling against his grip. Finally, she broke free and away from him, turning to sit and look at him.
He forced himself not to drop his gaze to the carpet again. Her hair had been so beautiful. He remembered how it felt to run his hands through it, the natural color perfect for her. She’d chopped it short and dyed it a harsh color that added years to her looks and didn’t suit her at all. Small lines that hadn’t been there before etched her face, around her eyes and across her forehead.
She looked gaunt. Haunted.
She scooted even further away from him. “No.” She jabbed her finger at him. “You don’t fucking get to call me baby. Not after you fucking abandoned me!” She scrabbled to her feet and backed away from him. “Get out!”
He nodded and slowly climbed to his feet. Damn, he would be black and blue tomorrow. He started for the door.
“I just want to know one thing,” she said before he reached the hallway. “Why? Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you abandon me?”
He took a deep breath and finally forced himself to meet her gaze again. “Because I didn’t think you would want me,” he said. “If I’d told you about my past.”
She looked shocked. “What? Why would you think that?”
Well, this was progress. She hadn’t ordered him out again and she wasn’t attacking him anymore. “Because I heard you and Loren talking one day. About a FetLife posting you guys saw. You were discussing if Ross or I ever wanted to switch, what you’d think. You told her you couldn’t handle that. That you needed a strong Master. That it would freak you out if I ever did that.” He shrugged.
“I’m sorry. Master’s right. I should have talked to you and told you the truth from the start.”
She stared at him. “Did the thought of asking me what I would think ever occur to you?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Quit fucking saying that!” she screamed, her voice cracking. “It doesn’t help! There are not enough ‘I’m sorries’ in the goddamn world to make up for what you did to me!” She stomped across the room and shoved him again. “Do you have any idea how long I spent in the fucking hospital, drugged out of my mind after you left? Ross and Loren carried me into the ER.” She punched him, hard, in the shoulder. That one did hurt. “I had to go to the fucking parole hearing alone, you son of a bitch!”
She started crying again. “Did it ever cross your mind that if you had told me the truth about him that maybe, just maybe I would have offered to go with you? To help you? To serve him with you?”
That rocked him harder than any of her blows. No, he hadn’t thought it. It never crossed his mind. “I just assumed—”
She threw up her arms in disgust. “Fuck. Me. Thanks a lot, asshole, for not having faith in me and my goddamned love for you!” She turned her back on him and walked over to the sliding glass doors. “They let the fucker out,” she quietly said. “They let him out on parole.”
His gut tightened even more but he didn’t say anything. Nothing he said could be right and he knew it.
“I begged them not to let him out,” she continued, “but they looked at me like I was some freaking pitiful, hysterical little douchebag. Then they let the fucker out, said he was rehabilitated. I could barely talk I was so fucking frightened, but I went there by myself and I talked to them even if it didn’t do any goddamned good. Then the son of a bitch raped a thirteen year-old girl six months later.”
She turned to him. “You know, maybe if you’d been there, maybe if I hadn’t been pissing my pants scared to be there alone, maybe I could have talked like an intelligent person. Maybe they would have listened to me. I’ve never stopped blaming you for that.”
The fun house of horrors just kept getting bigger.
She drew herself up to her full height, still nearly a foot shorter than him in her bare feet. “I do have you to thank for one thing. I kept thinking to myself, ‘Fuck him.’ You were right that I could do anything I put my mind to.” She held up her arms and spun around. “This house, my car, everything. I took the mindfuck you put me through and turned it into a profitable living.
“Oh, I spent the first several months in Ross’ collar because he and Loren both felt terrified I’d kill myself. Maybe I would have if it hadn’t been for them. He made me promise not to and just let me be myself. He told me I could take his collar off when I felt strong enough to go on with my life. I finally could.”
She planted her hands on her hips. “Then I finally decided fuck you! I don’t want any goddamned collars in my life. Not on me.” She advanced on him again. “I collar people. They pay me to mindfuck them. They pay me to beat them. They pay me pretty damn well, too.”
She shook her head as she looked him up and down. “There’s part of me tempted to take him up on his offer just so I can kick you in the balls every fucking morning first thing when I get out of bed.”
Offer?
She looked near tears again. “I would have done anything you asked of me. Would it have shocked me? Yes. Under the circumstances, had you told me about him, I would have helped you. I would have loved you for feeling responsible for him. I was your fucking slave! I was willing to be your wife! Don’t you think I knew how strong that bond can be? Too bad you didn’t appreciate my gift of submission.” Her eyes widened. “Wait. Stay right there, asshole.”