Reign on Me

by Zoe Devereaux

  “No doubt, she painted herself as the victim.” The counselor didn’t lose her dry expression or her disgust. “If she could get past herself, she might be slightly redeemable.” She studied him curiously. “But, something tells me that your little trip here wasn’t spurred by Crystal. So, what gives? Remember, no bullshit, just the truth.”

  “Until now, I thought the term mid-life crisis was a joke. But, now, I understand that’s not the truth. The crossroads are looming before me, and I have more than one road to travel. Problem is, I don’t know which one to take,” he said honestly, and the words came straight from the gut. “The things that I once thought as important really aren’t anymore; and I find that I want things to be different in my life.”

  “How so?” Ms. Jess probed carefully, rocking slowly in the swivel chair. Leaning back, she braced an elbow against the chair’s arm. “What part of your life are you finding dissatisfying?”

  His features tightened. “Hell, everything. All of a sudden, I feel like I need some kind of purpose.” He released a pent-up breath. “Deep down, to the core of me, I know that there has to be more to life than whoring and making fast money.”

  “Why keep doing it then if you feel that way?” she asked quietly, expressing her question with her hands as well. Then, she eyed him closely, trying to gauge a real reaction. “Do you like sleeping with random women? Surely, you understand that’s hardly a basis for a real honest relationship.”

  “In the beginning, it was all about power. Knowing that someone was beholden to me---it gave me an incredible rush. Sex became my weapon against the insecurities that I held.” He stared at a point past her head, and somehow, the lack of eye contact made his confessions easier. “But, looking back now, I realize that it was also my method of hiding, concealing the very stranger that breathed beneath my skin. All my life, I’ve been too afraid to know him or learn just who he is.”

  Her expression was thoughtful. “So, now, you’re asking yourself this: ‘just who is Christopher Alexander and what is he really made of’.”

  “In so many ways, yes.”

  “Know what’s funny, Chris---people referring to deep introspection as a mid-life crisis. It’s hardly a crisis; it’s a deep reckoning instead.” After halting the chair’s rocking motion, she slid it closer to the desk before leveling her inquisitive gaze on him. “What has me curious though is the trigger point. Usually, when a person starts analyzing their position in life, it’s due to something or someone. So, I’m wondering what’s happened or what’s so profound that you want to make changes. What’s goading you or causing you to contemplate a different direction for your life?”

  Of course, he knew who further precipitated his desire for change, he mulled, fighting to keep his face impassive.

  Hayven…

  His virginal princess…

  The very woman that’d shone him a different side to life in such a short span of time…

  The one woman that he’d never have…

  “Before I asked if you had someone special in your life.” Her forehead wrinkled in a frown. “You said no, but now, I’m not so sure that you were truthful about that with me or yourself. Is there someone that’s forcing you to examine life through a different pair of lenses?”

  He stiffened in the chair. “I suppose that you could say that.”

  “So, there is someone special.”

  “She’s one of my clients.”

  “What makes this woman so different from all the rest?”

  “From the very first moment I saw her, she literally knocked the breath from my lungs.” His distracted gaze moved away, for now his thoughts were consumed with the very woman that ripped his heart out hours ago. “She’s smart, beautiful, witty, kind… There’s no other woman of her caliber. She’s a rare precious jewel---a real treasure.” A hot flush spread across his face. “And she makes me---”

  He stopped, wondering if he should confess more. Could he be that open about his feelings?

  Ms. Jess’s smile was gentle. “She makes you what?”

  “She makes me believe.” Once more, he fought against the stirring feelings inside of him. “No one has ever made me feel that way before. When I look at her or when I’m with her, I feel alive---like anything is possible.” He sighed in frustration. ‘I know that it sounds completely insane.”

  “Actually, it doesn’t. People spend so much time worrying about structure and time tables when it comes to emotions and feelings. It’s so much so that often they miss out on truly experiencing a profound connection because of it.” A smile lit her eyes. “You really like her, don’t you? Is there a possibility that this, uh arrangement, that you have with this woman could transpire into something more.”

  “I broached the idea with her, and it seemed that she wanted the same thing. But, she quickly nixed the idea. She doesn’t want to have anything to do with me past our arrangement.” A frustrated breath left him again. “I was a damned fool believing that we could be more. My sordid lifestyle has practically written the end story to my entire life.”

  “This lady friend of yours---her point is valid. The facts are the facts. You make your living by sleeping with women on a daily and constant basis. You’re in a position where you’re hardly relationship material. But, it’s more than apparent that you do want to pursue some type of relationship with this woman.” The counselor leaned back in the chair and passed him a deep scrutinizing look. “What do you want out of life, Christopher?”

  His startled gaze met hers. “What do you mean?”

  “Just what I’m asking---what do you want?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never really contemplated that thought until now.”

  “Earlier, you said that you wanted to find your purpose and that you believed there was more to life than being an escort. The question now is, are you simply going to make conversation points or are you going to take action.”

  “Where do I start?” he asked, blowing a tired breath, rearing forward in the chair. “Apart from Club Illusions, I have no prospects.”

  “No, you’re entirely wrong. We both know that you have many opportunities,” she hedged carefully. “The fact remains that you haven’t acted on them.”

  “You mean Josephine’s blood money?” he quipped tightly, staring at her hard. “You know better than anyone that I don’t want to have anything to do with that.”

  “Stop being so damn melodramatic,” she chided sharply in rebuttal. “You call your birthright blood money. I see it as your opportunity to get out.”

  “What would it look like with me accepting the Clayton inheritance? It’d make me look weak. I’d be caving into the very family that denied me all those years ago---”

  “So the better option is for you to keep whoring and having meaningless connections?” she scoffed again, narrowing her eyes. “Surely, you don’t believe such a thing.” She paused momentarily. “I know that you don’t want to hear this. But, I’m going to say it anyway.”

  His voice was taut with tension. “What?”

  “It’s time for you to fight for what you want! Stop being a victim of your past and make a way for yourself. You’ve spent the better part of your short existence living a warped version of your horrible childhood. I know that you’re hurt. No one’s asking you to forget. But, sitting here, day in and day out, and not venturing on the opportunities that are right in front of you.” She hurled the pen onto the desk. “Well, frankly put, there’s no excuse for it.”

  “What do you propose that I do?” he asked stiffly. “Pretend that---”

  “Grow up and be a man. Stop letting the past act as the dictator of your every decision,” Ms. Jess said sharply, rising slightly in the chair. “Do you know how many little boys walk into this place, abused and used like you were? But, they’ll never have the money or resources to make a better way. But, you—you have a chance to really change your life.”

  A hollow silence followed.

  Now, his emotions were so strung t
hat he didn’t know how to respond. “I don’t know how,” he said quietly. “More than that, I’m afraid.”

  She softened her tone. “What are you afraid of Christopher?”

  “Being more of a failure than I already am.”

  “You’ll only be a failure if you don’t try. But, something tells me that you’re ready to take a risk.”

  The silence hummed again.

  Finally, he opened his mind to the thoughts that’d plagued him for the last months. The very thought that’d scared him and made him afraid to hope.

  But, now, the time was right.

  A new beginning was within his reach.

  “I want out---living like this, it’s not working for me. I’m not going to do it any longer,” he admitted in a low breath, and somehow, muttering that last liberating statement freed him in some small sense. Finally, he was taking real ownership of his life and the choices that came with it. This time, albeit, a more positive, respectful one. “I want to make a new way for myself. I want a shot at a real future.”

  “And you can,” Ms. Jess said with understanding. “No, in the beginning, it won’t be easy. But, you’re going to have to work for the future that you want.”

  “You mentioned my inheritance. Again, you’re right, I can make good of it.” His face warmed with both shame and embarrassment. “But, how do I go about it? I barely finished high school. How in the hell am I going to manage all of that money? And I know little to nothing about the family business.”

  “Why is it that you underestimate your intelligence? It wasn’t that you weren’t capable, it was just that you were unmotivated,” Ms. Jess frowned. “Besides, didn’t your uncle offer to help? Mr. Clayton is a professional attorney, and I’m certain that he’ll connect you with the right people. Then, you’ll be able to invest in the best and most profitable business ventures. If he has offered his help, make use of it.” A hopeful look shone in her eyes. “We have vocational programs here on business and management if you’re interested. Our highly trained professionals will teach you the necessary rhetoric and discourse that’s present in the business world.”

  His nod was quick. “That’d be helpful.”

  “I’m proud of you,” she murmured softly. “I know that making such a huge step like this won’t be an easy one. But, I’m here anytime that you need me, okay?” She stood from behind the desk. “As much as I’d love to stay and talk, I can’t. We’re talking with our mentoring sponsors about an after-school program.” Now, a different light played in her eyes. “You know what? I think that you would be an excellent mentor.”

  “Maybe at some point, but not now,” he stressed, coming to his feet. “First, I have to manage my life before imparting advice to another.”

  “And two,” Ms. Jess went on carefully. “I think that you should consider talking to a professional counselor about your childhood. Though it may not be a conscious thought on your part, it’s obvious that you’re still hurting from it.”

  He shook his head. “No, I’m not seeing a fucking shrink. What’s the point of shelling out thousands of dollars just to hear truths that I already know about me? It’s a complete waste of time.”

  “I know that you think that---”

  “I said, no,” he quipped tightly, and the three words were struck with a chord of finality. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to stay calm. “Don’t push me on this, Ms. Jess.”

  “That wasn’t my intention. Forgive me if it came off that way. I completely understand if you need more time to consider that option.” After moving from behind the desk, she enveloped him in a tight hug. “You know that I love you, right? Everything that I say and do is to help you.” She pulled back. “Now, one more piece of advice.”

  “What’s that?”

  “This woman that you like---don’t give up on her. If there’s even the faintest chance that she feels the same way, you fight for her with all that you’ve got.”

  And he would fight for her, he mulled, forty-five minutes later at Club Illusions, surveying the very space that’d served as his dark and twisted refuge for many years. More than that, he’d fight for himself.

  It was way past time that he broke the yoke of mental imprisonment. He’d already lost a childhood to it. For no reason whatsoever would he continue to suffer and exist within the past miserable reality.

  Still, frowning in thought he strode past the living room area and made way towards the bedroom. Just several minutes earlier, he’d broken the stunning news to Paul.

  The legendary “Reign” was no more.

  As expected, the club manager had been shocked. But, the shock had quickly worn off and turned into burning anger. To say that the club manager was livid was an understatement; he’d been like a raging bull on steroids. After hurling threats of bodily harm and legal action against him, Paul had morphed into a cold ruthless businessman. Their conversation had been rife with tension, and he’d rebuffed every monetary offer that Paul had proposed.

  After reaching an impasse, they’d parted ways.

  Not before Paul had reluctantly agreed to let him collect a few personal belongings.

  Now, he was here, he thought, stopping within the threshold of the door, and looked around the semi-darkened bedroom. Shedding the skin of the false caricature that he’d presented to the world. To his shame and horror, his eyes watered with stinging tears. But, they were tears laced with hope, courage, joy, and fear. “I’m going to find me,” he whispered hoarsely, blinking at the stinging tears. “Just whoever in the hell you are, I’m going to know eventually.”

  Taking a steadying breath, he regained his composure. His gaze journeyed to the wet bar where the scores of liquor bottles racked the shelves, and he gave a roguish grin. “You’re probably the only thing that I will miss around this damned place. As the saying goes, this will be our last dance.”

  Without bothering with the lights, he crossed the room to the bar. He quickly confiscated a small tumbler and bourbon from the middle shelf. After pouring the glass full, he raised the glass in a toast. “Here’s to new beginnings.” He took a sip of the burning alcohol before placing the glass back on the counter. Then, he raised his arm upward before giving his underarm a quick sniff test. As the musky odor wafted up his nostrils, his brows shot up. “Damn boy,” he murmured, and already he was journeying towards the bathroom. “You stink. It’s time to wash you down, and make you smell at least halfway human, anyway.”

  Moments later, showered and refreshed, he exited the bathroom. The tiny droplets of water clung to his moist skin, creating a fine sheen along his chest on downward to his abdomen. As he stepped out into the bedroom area, he adjusted the bath towel around his hips before striding to the bar again. He downed the alcohol and closed his eyes in satisfaction at the burning taste. Somehow, the very action was significant in a sense. After slapping the glass back down onto the counter, he stood there for a moment, contemplating the prospects of a new future. The very thought of it was invigorating, he mulled with a hopeful smile. “Finally, I’m free to really live my life, and hopefully, you will be a major part of---”

  “There’s nothing more damning than existing in a fool’s paradise, is it? Let these words hurtle you straight back to reality. Never in a million years will you be good enough for her.”

  He stiffened against the startling surprise. “What in the hell?”

  He whirled around quickly, and his gaze shot towards the bed.

  The moonlight slanted across the floor, but the shadows fell across the bed, somehow shrouding it in a cloud of mystery. But, within the shadows, he could make out the outline of a woman. She was propped against the pillows dead center of the bed, and except for the black satin sheets, she wore nothing else. From the neck down, she was nude on down to her waist. The sheet was carefully arranged around her naked form, falling delicately along the apex of her thighs. In a bevy of thick curls, the auburn red tresses fell about her perfectly made-up face.

  His eyes narrowed in the
darkness.

  WTF?

  As recognition finally spawned, the anger blinded him, and the only thing that he could see was red. “How the fuck did you get in here?”

  Red Widow gave a caustic laugh before rising from the pillows. Like a slinky cat, she crawled from bed, allowing the sheet to fall to the floor as she stood. When she fell into view, she passed him an icy smile before tapping a brightly colored nail against her chin. “You know what’s funny? I ran into, uh,” she murmured before pausing in mock confusion. “….what’s his name…yeah Paul. Let’s just say that his attitude towards you was rather belligerent. It seems to me that he’s upset with you about something.” Her icy smile widened. “Unlike you, the lowlife doesn’t tout the idea that he can’t be bought. But, this imbecile folded like a cheap deck of cards. With five perfectly pressed Benjamin’s I bought rights to your privacy.” Her blue eyes were crazed as she stopped midway the room. “Certainly, you’re worth more than that. I think that you are.”

  Staring at her stonily, he kept a defensive position at the counter. “What kind of game are you playing now?” he asked between gritted teeth. “What do you want?”

  “I want you,” she hissed.

  His smile was cold. “Well, fortunately, the feeling isn’t mutual.”

  Red Widow sucked in a sharp breath, but then quickly regained her composure. “I know what you want or rather who. But, I’m not going to allow it.” She took a menacing step forward, and she was hardly shameful of her nudity. In fact, it seemed that her bareness was adding an extra touch to her performance. Now, her blue eyes simmered with blatant invitation as they slid over his half-nude form. “It’s amazing how wealth and power yield their force at the most unfortunate times. Just when one thinks that they’re about to have it all, trouble comes roaring in like a ferocious beast.” Her icy smile hardly reached her eyes. “I mean, take you for instance. You’re pathetically clinging to the notion that you can be more than what you are. Even worse, you think that you can have a real relationship with that twit.”