Break Me (5 page)

“It’s okay. You don’t have to continue.” She nodded, tears starting to stream down her cheeks at the telling of her tale. I wanted to reach out and take her hand, but the way she was huddled in the corner of the seat, pressed into the truck door, told me she didn’t want to be touched. I could understand.

She looked at me then, her pretty eyes bright and reflective behind her tears. “I have to, yes. I told you this was all your fault and it is, but now that it’s begun, now that you’ve pushed me to unravel, all of it’s coming undone inside me and I can’t stop it.”

“If you’re susceptible to being pushed, then maybe it was time.”

“His car was pushed hard into a street lamp and witnesses said the person behind tried to stop it or get out of what was happening, but it was too late. His truck was locked to Tim’s back bumper and they just kept going forward until there was nothing that could be done. The impact of the hit from behind rocked his head on his neck and… They said he wouldn’t have known anything else after that. He was gone by the time the medics arrived.”

“And the truck driver?”

“Vehicular manslaughter.”

“I’m so sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say. I didn’t know where to go with it. Maybe it was all my doing, putting her in this position, making her face the pain and hurt she’d bottled up for so long. There really was no maybe about it. I’d already owned up to it. I couldn’t take it back now. I couldn’t make her put it all back inside.

Claire nodded. “I hadn’t realized how it would feel to talk about it.”

“How does it feel?”

“Free. I could only remember losing him. I could only remember seeing the casket. I couldn’t see beyond my sadness. I didn’t want the good memories to invade my heart ache.”

“Sometimes talking about the hard things helps you heal more than just waiting them out. You loved him. He deserves your forgiveness.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“He left you. You said that he did the one thing he told you he never would. He left you. Maybe it’s time you forgive him for that. It wasn’t his choice. It was an accident, Claire. He wouldn’t have willingly done so.”

“What the hell do you know about it? What the hell do you know about him?”

I smiled as gently as I could. “I know everything about him from you. He loved you, too, didn’t he? Let him go. Forgive him.”

“Fuck you.”

“Later, yes.”

“How dare…” She shook her head. “How dare you,” she whispered through her choking sobs.

“Yes.” I reached across the expanse of leather between us and slid my palm down her hair in long, soothing strokes. More than her hair needed stroking. Her body, her mind, her heart. Her entire being needed stroking. “How dare I, Claire,” I agreed softly. “How dare I.”

She was out of the truck before I realized what she was about. I’d barely gotten to the ground myself before she dashed across the street. She stood panting outside the doors of
The Club
. They weren’t open yet and wouldn’t be for several more hours. It was only the second time I’d been inside when it wasn’t officially open. The first was when I was approved for membership.

“What if I can’t get beyond it?” she asked.

“What if you can?” I countered. I pounded on the doors. They might not be open, but there was always someone inside.

Claire took one step backward. Then, another one. “What am I doing?” Fear laced her voice, no longer monotone, but full of more emotion than I knew it was possible for one person to feel.

I put my hand at her back and prevented her from running. “Facing yourself. Who you were. Who you are.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Liar,” I said affectionately. I lifted my hand to pound on the doors again, but one swung open and Jet stood there, annoyance on his face. The second his eyes lit on Claire, the annoyance gave way to surprise, then tenderness. I’d only seen that emotion on his features when he looked at his wife, Lucy.

“Claire,” he said. A rare smile pulled his lips up. “Little one, it is so good to see you. Come on in.”

“I can’t.” She gave her head a quick shake. “I shouldn’t have… No. This was a mistake.”

Jet held his hand out toward her. “Was it?”

Chapter Five

Claire

“This isn’t…” I started, but stopped. I didn’t know what I wanted to say or even what I should say. I’d said it was a mistake and it probably was. I felt sick to my stomach and hot all over. Panicked. I felt I needed to explain myself only, I didn’t know why or even how. “Okay, so maybe it sort of is, but, coming here was my idea,” I finished, knowing nothing I was saying made any sense.

I struggled with every word, every emotion clogged my throat and much as I wanted to run like hell, I knew I couldn’t. I needed to do this. If nothing else, Jared was right. I needed to face who I was and who I had become... I didn’t have to do it alone, but even with him there, I didn’t know how to do it at all.

“Come on,” Jet coaxed again, his voice soft, but with an edge that jolted me out of my head long enough for me to take his hand. He closed his fingers around mine and led me inside the building.

“It hasn’t changed,” I whispered, huddled by the doors. Fear of going further paralyzed me. I didn’t want to see the stairs that led below. I didn’t want to see the places we’d played. I didn’t want to remember anymore. I wanted to go back to my life, the one that was numb and didn’t feel like I’d been asleep for years and blood was finally rushing in and waking me the fuck up. It hurt too much.

Move forward
.

Jet let go of my hand when I refused to move from my spot. “Take your time,” he said gently to me. “I’ll be in the office if you need anything.”

Seeing familiar faces would bring it all back and I didn’t think I could handle it.

You can
.

I didn’t want to handle it. But that voice inside my head,
his
voice, Tim’s voice, was there, telling me, urging me, and I never could deny him anything.

I grabbed Jared’s hand. I needed something, someone to hold on to and since he’d started this, he was the unfortunate one. “I hate you for this,” I whispered.

“Not really,” he whispered back.

Bastard. He was right, but no way would I tell him that. He hadn’t looked smug or cocky, but I didn’t want him to start. I’d keep my real thoughts about him to myself a while longer.

Then again, he probably already knew. He was sharp like that, intuitive. Attuned to me, like an invisible tether linked us, bound us together. That hadn’t happened in so long, but then I hadn’t allowed it to happen. Not since the day Tim told me he would spank me.

It was odd. For years I’d avoided even thinking his name, afraid of how I would feel, afraid that I’d break down if I did. In my mind, since his death had hit me, I’d only thought of him as
He
. It was the most I could do and still stay sane.

His name didn’t haunt me as I thought it would. The more I used it, even if it was just in my head, the walls crumbled a little bit more.

“How long are we going to stand here?” I asked Jared. Thinking his name, saying his name held a completely different feel and it was
that
feeling I was most scared of. He squeezed my hand and I was glad for his strength.

“As long as you want.”

A smile, small and nearly imperceptible on the outside, touched my lips. He’d do it, too. He’d stand against the doors for as long as I wanted to stand there. He was unlike any man I knew, even Tim. Jared was patient, kind, gentle with me. But he’d be hard and rough, too, if I wanted that.

I squeezed his hand back and took a step forward. Then, another. And more until we were standing at the top of the stairs that would take us to the basement where the private rooms were. Tears clogged my throat. I wasn’t sure I could make it. Fear locked my knees tight. “Have you been down there before, “ I asked Jared. Maybe if I talked to him, I’d get through it.

“Yes. A few times. That’s where your picture is.”

“Have you played with anyone?” I didn’t want to know, but at the same time, I did.

“Yes.”

“Do you spank?” I took the first riser down.

“Yes, I do. Very much.”

“What do you like to use?” Another descending step, and a third.

“A belt.”

“Tim never used a belt. Always a flogger.”

“Then I’ll be the first. I like that.” Confidence poured from him and that’s what I needed. He talked to me and that’s what I needed, too. He took each step with me until we landed at the bottom.

The third room down was the one. The spanking bench sat against the back wall in a corner. That night, those moments leading up to the news that Tim was gone came rushing back. My chest hurt so bad right then I thought it would explode.

“He liked me in body stockings. Lace, fishnet, sheer materials. He loved them all. And heels. The higher the better. He loved me in feminine things even though he knew they made me uncomfortable.”

“Why uncomfortable?”

“My size.” I was a big girl. I still am, just older, and the weight has shifted since I’d been alone. I’ve worked a lot and was on my feet moving so much of the day. I couldn’t sit still. I had to always move.

My hips were still wide and my behind was big and jiggled. My legs were more toned than they’d ever been, but they were still thick. My belly had flattened slightly and my waist had become a little more defined. My chest was a double D, produced incredible cleavage, and my arms were slimmer than they used to be from all the moving of boxes over the years.

“My plus size figure is something that I was never comfortable displaying in lingerie. That night, me in this room with an audience, the spanking he had planned that would make me jiggle everywhere. He knew it would be hard for me, but he loved me, no matter my size and he wanted me to see that others would find me beautiful, too. That they would accept my size nearly naked as they had anytime I’d been clothed.”

“Beauty is not skin deep, Claire. Your size is a number. It’s beautiful and your curves are every fantasy I’ve ever had, but there’s more to you than your body. So much more.”

“I know. That was the lesson he wanted to teach me. After that night, I didn’t think much about it. He’d always accepted me and I had to honor that by not tearing myself down, at least not physically. I threw myself into the businesses that were left in my care and I built them up with a national reputation of incredible coffee and a wide and diverse collection of titles.” I smiled to myself and looked up at Jared, sharing the smile with him. “By doing that, I learned to accept myself and see myself the way he did.. Then, it dawned on me. “I hadn’t realized it until now.”

“He knew what he was doing. He trusted you as you trusted him, it seems.”

“How did he know?”

“How did he know what?”

“That he could? How did he know I’d do what I’ve done? How did he know I wouldn’t leave it decay and die?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because of how much you meant to him and how much he meant to you.”

“Maybe.” I let go of his hand and walked into the room. I did it without hesitation, though when I stood in the spot I’d held when Jet had come for me, I felt as though a ghost walked through me. I didn’t understand the feeling. Tim hadn’t been there that night. He’d never made it to our play session. He’d never made it to see me one last time.

He’d have been proud of me. I knew that. I had always known that. He’d have been proud of me, how, even through fear and uncertainty, I’d dressed in fishnets and stilettos with pretty ribbons for him. I’d displayed myself for him. I’d walked through a limit for him.

But he never saw me. He never saw the anticipation in my eyes, never saw the desire written in the wetness between my legs, or the hard nipples poking through the openings of the body stocking. He never saw the blush on my skin as people looked at me or the pride that in some moments took over when I remembered how much he’d adored my body, my soul, my spirit.

All that had been locked away, somewhere down inside where the pain of the memories couldn’t reach me.

Maybe I was the ghost. Maybe the woman I used to be was the ghost leaving me behind.

And there were still more tears that fell. Still more heartache that I wasn’t sure I could bear. Crumpling to the floor, I wanted to sink into the place he left me. I’d been numb for years, months, weeks, days, hours. I’d been broken and all the pieces had been put safely away in a box and stored behind lock and key in my heart.

The Dominant and submissive relationship is one of supreme trust. He ruled over me with my willing and steadfast consent when he was alive. In death, I ruled me in all the ways he would have hated. I kept the businesses going, thriving, but I’d allowed myself to wither away.

“He would want you happy, little one.”

The voice wasn’t Jared’s. I didn’t know where he was, but I could feel he wasn’t far. Jet knelt at my head, his hand brushing over my hair as though he were calming a child. I suppose in some ways, I was a child right then and at various times since Tim’s death.

I nodded and after a few more moments of soaking up the warm, comforting touch, I slowly sat up.

“You’re going to be all right, Claire.” He kissed the top of my head. “You’re going to be better than all right.”

I let myself feel. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t fight it. I didn’t want to fight it. I was tired of fighting it, even though for almost as long, I didn’t realize that I was fighting it. I was mentally exhausted. All the crying I’d done, all the purging, all the telling, all the talking had left me mentally drained.

With help, I stood and looked at Jet. “Thank you.”

“No thanks are necessary. I’m glad Jared brought you here. We’ve missed you. I’m sorry we haven’t been better at keeping an eye on you, on checking in with you. We didn’t abandon you, we just…” He looked down, embarrassment coloring his skin.

“Don’t be. I didn’t want anyone or any reminders. I wanted nothing to do with any of it. I blamed me and this place and him. But it was easier to blame everyone openly but him.”