Wrecked (The Blackened Window) (5 page)

What a fucking idiot.

I grabbed my cell out of the bag I had dropped by the door earlier. Three texts. All from Xander.

Little girl, where’d you go so fast this afternoon? I was looking for you. You’re in trouble now. X

Little girl? I’m picking you up at 8 tomorrow. Wear a skirt.—X

This fuckin’ guy.

Leda—where are you? Respond or I am coming over –X

Well, that text was about forty-five minutes ago.

Was out for a bike ride. Not feeling too good. Will touch base tomorrow—Leda

My doorbell rang shortly after I hit send. I knew it was going to be him, regardless of the text I had just sent. I still felt weak and tired—just completely limp, and I didn’t want to talk to him. The doorbell rang again.

Leda—I can see your light on. Open the door. –X

A little stalker-y, no?
I grabbed my robe and hit the buzzer for the front door. The building was small with just four units, so I heard the front door open. I opened my door, stepping out onto the small landing at the top of the stairs.

“Hey, Xander. My place is up here. Come on up.” I didn’t even have it in me to fight him on it, but I was irritated about his behavior that morning and I wasn’t in the mood for his bossy bullshit. He was up the flight of stairs in four steps and grabbed me by the shoulders.

“Are you okay? Where have you been? Why didn’t you respond to my texts?” He looked me over, then pushed me into my living room. Maybe pushed is too strong of a word—bodily guided me into the room, but not before I registered the relief-tinged anxiety in his features.

Chapter Five

Xander

Depeche Mode,
Nothing’s Impossible

“I went for a ride and got a little turned around.”

I was closing the door, but turned to her as she finished, a look of embarrassment washing her features for a moment. She looked like shit, skin gray, lips dry, eyes sunken.

“And I didn’t have…my…phone.”

The embarrassment faded and she realized she was alone with me, and got scared. Her eyes widened and she glanced behind me at the door. It wasn’t the sexy, fun kind of scared.

“Go put some clothes on.” She was wearing a robe and I didn’t want her to feel unsafe. Clothing would help. I turned away to give her space. Gave her my back as a sign that I wouldn’t hurt her. She wouldn’t register it consciously, but the animal brain would be comforted a bit. I watched her from the corner of my eye and she stood considering me for a moment then turned toward the back of the apartment, and her legs started to crumple under her, her face going blank. I lunged for her and caught her shoulders, walking her to the couch. I settled her down next to me. “How long was your ride?”
Little girl, you’re gonna be mine and I take care of mine.

“I don’t know, about three hours or so.”

What the fuck?
She’d said it so nonchalantly. “Three hours, what the fuck, Leda! It was almost a hundred degrees today. Are you trying to die, or some kind of extreme sports freak?”

Her eyes flashed with a touch of temper, despite being washed out and exhausted. “I am going to interpret that like you aren’t yelling at me and are, instead, concerned about my well-being.”

It was both of those.
But I softened my face a little so she knew she wasn’t in too much trouble. But it didn’t last long. If she was mine, I would have put her over my fucking knee.

“I got lost and couldn’t find my way home. It took a while. I think I’m dehydrated, and was actually really sick when I got home, puking and just feeling terrible. I took a cool bath and it seems better. I’m just really cold now and I still feel completely exhausted. I think I’ll just have some more juice and go to bed.”

“You need more than juice. Your electrolytes are probably all fucked up. You need something like Gatorade, watered down, or I can make you some homemade ORT.” I mumbled the last bit, triaging in my mind, if she needed IV fluids or if I should go get her some oral rehydration fluids. She looked confused.

“ORT?”

“I’ll tell you all about Wilderness Medicine once you’re dressed in more than a robe and have some sodium and potassium working their way back into your system. Do you have anything like Gatorade?”
You give me what I want, and I reward you.

“No, that stuff is gross.” She scrunched up her face and stuck out her tongue.

Such a little.
“Okay, how about some salt and honey?” She nodded at me. “Go get dressed and I’ll make it.” I stood, moving to the kitchen.

I watched her as she went to her room, but she seemed steadier. I got some water boiling, feeding it salt and honey. I could have added some juice, but this wasn’t supposed to taste good. My phone buzzed in my pocket.

I pulled it out and answered, “Hi, Mom. How are you?”

“Good lord! You answered. I didn’t think you would on a Friday night. Why aren’t you out having fun?”

“Who says I’m not? Maybe I just wanted to talk to you.” I smiled. As much as my mom could be annoying and pushy, she was a victim of a machine she was dependent on, and I loved her. She had my back, one hundred percent, and I knew it.

“Okay, fair enough. Good son points. I’m calling because we’re reserving rooms for the fundraiser already and we’ll need to buy our tickets. So, I wanted to know if you were coming or not?”

“Shit—”

“Language, Xander. I’m still a lady.”

She was so funny. The drink was done brewing. I filled a cup with ice and poured some of it in the cup.

“No, Mom. I don’t know about coming to the fundraiser. Do you even think it would help him? I doubt it.”

“
I
want you to come. And I think most people have moved on. It’s not like you used a cigar to fuck an intern and got caught then lied, under oath, while in office.”

“No.” I bit back the laugh in my throat. “I know it has been years, but he’s probably still pissed. Look, I have to go. I’ll call on Sunday.” I hung up as Leda walked into the kitchen. I handed her the drink.

“What was that about with your mom? Fundraiser sounds fancy. And secondly, this is the worst cocktail I’ve ever had. It’s a good thing you’re going to be a doctor, because you’d be crap at bartending.” She smiled, humor in her eyes and her color returning a little.

“It’s not intended to taste all that good, just save your life when you can’t get something better. Now you owe me.” I smiled and winked at her, liking the playful flirting. I walked toward the couch to draw her to her rest. She sat and a look of relief crossed her face. I sat at the other end of the couch, saying, “Now, you just need to sit and rest. Wanna watch a movie?”

She looked at me, a little confused, but I wasn’t about to leave her alone. She responded, “Sure, but I’m pretty tired so I may not last through the whole thing. Really, I am feeling better. You don’t have stay here and babysit me.”

Tsk, tsk, girlie. Nice try.
I picked up the remote and flipped the TV on, found
Ace Ventura: Pet Detective
. It came out when I was in high school and I remember getting stoned with my best friend, Jason, and thinking it was the highest level of comedic genius. After a little while, she stretched out and put her feet up on the couch. I picked them up and sat them in my lap, so I could be touching her. I started rubbing her foot, another little reward.

“You may start getting some muscle cramps.” It was true, but probably would have already started if it was going to. She didn’t need to know that just then. About an hour into the movie, her eyelids started to droop and she laid her head back. I lightened my touch on her feet, just letting them rest in my lap.

While she slept, I took a visual inventory of her apartment. It was generic, basic—beige carpet, couch and modest TV in the living room. Her little dining nook was co-opted by her computer desk and bookshelves. I respected that. Her kitchen was functional. It was all clearly temporary, the place to stay in until she could leave.
Until she moves in with me, my full-time baby… What the
fuck
am I thinking right now?

At the end of the movie, I reached for the remote on her coffee table, and she woke.

“Let’s get you in bed. It’s late, little girl.” I placed her feet on the floor and pulled her hands until she stood. I kept my hands near her, but she was steadier now.

“I’ll walk you out.”

Her voice was weary. There was no way I was leaving. “I’m staying.”

Shock crossed her features, followed quickly by wariness. “I’m okay. I’ll be fine and just get some rest tonight.”

Why do people always fight it when someone else knows what is right for them? God, I’m a cocky dominant motherfucker.
I laughed internally, but kept my face stern for her. “No, Leda, you were significantly dehydrated tonight, if not experiencing heat exhaustion. Someone needs to be here in case you need something or you get sick again overnight.”

She held her ground for a moment or two, but I could see how much she just wanted to give in. I saw the debate crossing her expression. But I knew she would give in as soon as she didn’t immediately deny me.

“Okay, but…”

“I’ll sleep on the couch.”
Tonight
. “Let’s go.” I walked her to her bedroom and I understood how uncomfortable it must be. New dude in her room, clearly we had an attraction, but we barely knew each other. I got it, as much as I wanted to snuggle in next to her and stroke her hair till she fell asleep. Not yet.

I settled her into her bed. She had an antique-looking off-white comforter and a wrought iron headboard, painted white. Probably the same stuff she’d had since she was a teenager.
God, a total little.
She sat up and braided her hair, with no explanation, like it was her routine. She looked so young, so soft, so sweet. I just wanted to touch her, and knew if I started, it would be even harder to stop.

“I am sleeping on the couch,” I reiterated it more for myself than for her, but, added as I looked back at her, “if you need anything.”

I glanced at the clock on her bedside table as I walked out of the room. It was almost midnight. Sometimes, you could tell a lot about someone by what was on their bedside table. She had a glass of water, a novel that I couldn’t see the title of, a pack of birth control pills, a few medical text study guides, ear plugs, a few hair ties and a kind of frilly white lamp.

* * * *

In the morning, I left Leda a note and met Jason for our usual Saturday morning sparring session. Jason had been doing MMA for years and had decided to focus on his ground work more right around the time I moved to Texas. Brazilian Jiu Jitsu had become a way that we could get a work out in, catch up, shoot the shit. Whatever.

When I walked in, Jason glanced at me, then did a double take. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks, asshole. It’s a fucking girl. I just met her and I can’t stop thinking about her.”

I heard him whoosh a big breath out.

I’d known he’d be surprised, but I didn’t want him to start analyzing me. “Let’s do some groundwork.”

He gave me some side eye. “I don’t know, man. You look a little…out of your usual tight-assed control. I don’t want a broken face. I’m too pretty.”

I laughed. “All right, show me something new so I can practice it, or let’s get some gloves and headgear and box.”

“I’m not fucking boxing with you until you decompress. Come here.”

He stepped onto the mat and I followed. He proceeded to take me through three or four techniques that were new to me. One involved a new way of breaking a guard. I liked it. We went through it a few more times.

Once we settled into a routine, he asked, “So, what’s the deal with this girl?”

I tried to explain. “She’s a first-year Med student. She’s cute as hell. And she’s in my tutoring group.”

“Okay, that sounds good. Why are you so fucked up about it?”

I felt like a fucking douche bag asshole even as the words came out of my mouth. It was the shit that fake Doms used to isolate new girls in the kink scene. It was how they justified their sexual assaults, their consent violations. “She is a complete sub—a
real
natural submissive. I mean, moves before she consciously registers what I said.”

“What the fuck are you having her do?” He smiled, wide and dirty.

“You know, just sit down, come here, whatever. She does it.”

“You vet her yet with Rodriguez?”

“Yeah, well…sort of.”

He gave me a ‘what-the-fuck’ look.

“I don’t want the whole report. I want to learn her step by step instead of cheating. I have a threat assessment pending and knowing him, I’ll get it within the next few days.”

He paused, holding a reverse crunch for a moment, thoughtful. “So, what’s your plan?”

“I’m gonna take her out tomorrow night.”

“You wanna go to the Window tonight? I’m sure someone there would love to have the unattainable Xander treat them.”

“No.” I rolled my eyes at my own bullshit before I launched into it. “You know how I am, man. Dating? Like, actually
dating
a chick. I just don’t do it. It always goes all sideways and shitty.”

“Does it?”

We were into the part where he was going to start figuring my shit out, even though he’d do it with leading questions and would never just tell me straight out what he thought.

“With me? Yeah, it does.” I’d had enough crappy experiences with women to know I wanted to keep the emotional factor out of my sex life. Jason had been around and seen it.

He scoffed and taunted me with a ‘come-at-me-bro’ wave. “That’s enough of that self-pitying bullshit.”

I laughed, but my pride stung some and I stepped toward him, feinting into his reach. When he grabbed the collar of my
gi
, I fired my arm against his wrist, breaking his grasp and pulling him down to the ground.

He landed with a grunt, but aimed his shoulder into me and caught my lip. I tasted my blood almost immediately, but took our momentum and guided him into the mat. I locked his arm up and kept a foot on the back of his neck until he tapped out.