Chapter 22: Dead of Wynter: Chapter 21

I hoped I would never have to tell that story again, that whoever I ended up with after all was said and done either wouldn’t notice or wouldn’t ask any questions. But that never would have been the case for Everett. The moment he walked back into my life I should have started preparing for the eventuality that I would have to tell him about the darkest day of my life.

Does that make it any easier now? Nope.

He holds me so tightly, and for so long, telling me silently that nothing will ever hurt me again, that he’ll make sure of it.

His fingers brush along my bare back gently and it’s the only thing keeping me together. The warmth gives me something to focus on other than the memories threatening to tear me apart. It’s been a long time since I allowed myself to think about that night, and even though at times I’ve craved the pain, I’ve always tamped it down because I could never allow myself to be that vulnerable.

Except, when Everett talked about punishing me when we walked into the room, the fear didn’t seem so bad, and if I’m really honest with myself, it was mixed with something else, something I haven’t felt in a long time.

Longing.

Need.

Arousal.

It’s been such a long time since I felt whole, since I had all the pieces of myself that make me, me, but maybe I can have it all now. Maybe I can have Everett, and I can have the pain, I can find that little place where everything around me is quiet and calm, but this time with a man who cares about me.

I didn’t miss the way his eyes flared when I mentioned enjoying the pain punishment gave. He liked the idea, maybe even as much as I did.

“I should have been here,” he says quietly. The room was so silent for so long the words almost startle me, but it’s the pain behind them that breaks my heart. It’s the reason I never wanted him to know. I thought if I could save at least one of us from the horrors of that night, maybe it would be enough.

I shake my head as I angle to look up at him. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what, Wynter? I left and you were hurt. And worse than that, I wasn’t the one that killed the piece of shit,” he growls.

I push against his chest and stumble across the room to the bed. My legs are still shaky beneath me, but I need to put some distance between us. The closer we are, the harder it is to think.

“Stop it. It doesn’t matter now. It’s in the past. And even if you never left, I still would have gone to Boston, and you wouldn’t have. You would have stayed here. So I still would have had security, probably Craig, and I still would have got hurt.”

“If I was here, you wouldn’t have gone to that club in the first place.”

He follows me across the room, his body vibrating with barely contained rage. Every muscle in his body is so tense I wonder idly whether it’s possible for them to snap under such immense pressure. Everett doesn’t stop until he’s towering over me, his chest rising and falling so quickly his breath is coming out in rough pants.

“Do you know why, dove?”

I shake my head, trying to stand my ground. My own heart races, the heavy beats enough to make it hard to take a breath.

“Because I would have given you every fucking thing you needed.”

“He still would have had the same opinion,” I whisper. “I always would have discovered I liked aspects of BDSM, and while you may have given me what I needed, that still would have left Craig with the opinion I was a jezebel who needed to repent for my sins. I still would have been in a different city than you, I still would have had Craig as a guard. Everything still would have played out exactly the same way.” I try to reason with him, but from the looks he’s giving me it’s not working.

“That’s where you’re wrong. Some of that may be true, but if I didn’t leave, I would have been the one that killed him, and I would have dragged it out for days, making sure he felt every bit as helpless and terrified as he made you feel, and you wouldn’t have been going through it alone. You wouldn’t have been dealing with the pain I caused when I left on top of the trauma of what he did to you.”

“You’re impossible,” I groan, finally tearing my eyes from his. I don’t know how to make him see that it wasn’t his fault.

Everett chuckles long and deep. “Dove, we both know I’m not the impossible one.”

I glare at him for a moment before reaching for my robe laying across the bottom of the bed. I can’t have this argument while stark naked, it gives him an unfair advantage.

“Don’t you dare,” he snaps and I hate the way my hand stops in its place. “I did not give you permission to get dressed.”

“Last time I checked, I didn’t need your permission to put clothes on.”

“Well, now you do. After the bullshit you pulled today, you need my permission for just about everything.”

“My brothers aren’t going to allow you to keep me locked up and naked in here until the danger is gone,” I hiss.

“I think you’d be surprised at what your brothers would allow me to do, little dove.” He smirks.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

He shakes his head. “Maybe someday I’ll tell you.”

“How about today?”

“No. Today we’re going to talk some more.”

“While I’m naked?” I ask.

“Yep.” He sits on the edge of the bed and pats his knee, but I don’t move from where I’m standing, my arms crossed against my chest. “Don’t you think you’re in enough trouble?” He raises an eyebrow.

I huff out a frustrated breath before moving to perch on his lap. It’s one thing to use him as a seat when I’m upset, it’s an entirely different story to do so just because he says so.

“See, you do know how to be a good girl.” He brushes the hair from my cheeks, his fingers lingering for a few moments before moving to draw gentle circles into my thigh, and the other wraps around my waist to hold me in place. “I want to ask you a few questions, and I want you to tell me the truth, okay?”

I nod hesitantly, there are so many things he could ask that I wouldn’t want to answer, but at this point, I think I’m out of options.

“Did you ever go back to the club after Craig hurt you?”

“Yes,” I answer quietly.

“Did you scene while you were there?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Tell me what happened.”

I stare at him for a moment, trying to decide if I think I can get out of it or not, but by the way he’s looking at me, I suspect he’ll get the answers he wants regardless of how much I argue. “A few months after the incident, I was sick of being afraid of my own shadow, I was in a darker place than I had ever been before, and I wanted to take control of my own life. I thought I would be able to walk into the club and scene with one of the Doms I used to scene with and it wouldn’t be an issue.”

I don’t miss the way Everett tenses at the mention of another man touching me, and he isn’t going to like the rest of what I have to say any better.

“When I arrived I spoke to the Dungeon Master on duty and went over what had happened to me and he understood why I was there, so he found one of the softer Doms who I had scened with when I first started going. We sat down and had a drink and again, I rehashed everything I had been through in painful detail, each time the story only made me feel more sick to my stomach. He was happy to give it a go, just a gentle spanking to see if I could handle it.”

“And could you?” Everett asks through gritted teeth.

I shake my head. “No. The moment I was bent over his lap and he was rubbing my ass I freaked out. I was absolutely beside myself, couldn’t breathe through the panic, and the owner got so worried he called an ambulance.” I laugh despite there being nothing funny about the most mortifying night of my life.

“Do you miss it?”

“The club? I mean, I guess. It was one of the only places I’ve ever been where I could just be myself. I didn’t have to be a Saint James, or a businesswoman. I could just be me.” I shrug.

“No, do you miss the spankings? Do you miss being punished?”

“I guess so.” I shrug. “I haven’t allowed myself to want it in such a long time that I barely remember how it feels. I miss the quiet though, the peace I felt when I reached that place. Especially now there’s so much going on all the time, I have so much responsibility. It would be nice to just… be for a while.”

It’s a pipe dream, something I know can never happen again, not without being sent to the hospital with another panic attack.

“Let’s try.”