Unforgettable (Black Rose Doms Book 1)

by Rory Reynolds

  Again, he holds the bridge of his nose and lets out a sigh. “The only way out of the contract was to pay your debt… with interest, so I did.”

  I can’t hide the shocked expression or the tears that are threatening to fall again. Holy crap! I can’t believe he did that, I mean it wasn’t like a few hundred dollars, we are talking several thousand, like fifty of them plus whatever constitutes ‘interest’ in Damon’s book. I know my mouth is doing the whole fish out of water thing, but I really can’t stop myself. I should say something, I know I should, thank you seems like too little. How am I ever going to pay him back?

  He’s silent while he watches me process this information. “That’s just too much. You can’t. I can’t… How will I ever repay you? I c-ca-can’t repay you. Oh, God. What am I going to do? You don’t even know me, why would you do this?” I’m stuttering and tripping all over my words.

  I can feel the anxiety bubbling up from that dark place deep inside me. It takes hold and washes through me like a wave. Before I know what I’m doing, I jump off the bed, and I scramble towards the door. I have to get out of here. Something tugs on my hand and I look down, expecting to see him holding me back, but it’s the damn IV line. I give it no thought as I rip it from my vein and start towards the door again.

  Panic has taken hold, and I’m reduced to nothing more than an animalistic need to flee. My thoughts consumed with the need to run, hide, get out, escape, go, go… I’m so absorbed with escape that my brain isn’t processing the pain from my injuries. I’m pure adrenaline now. My hand comes down on the doorknob, but the door won’t open.

  It’s locked. I’m trapped.

  Trapped, stuck, trapped. Oh, God. Not again, please. I tuck myself into the corner, trying to become as small a target as possible. Remembering another time when I was locked in a room. Another time when I needed to escape. I tuck my knees under my chin and cover my face as I rock back and forth, willing my mind to detach from the moment.

  “Rose.” I whimper at the sound of my name. “Rose, baby.” I rock faster at the endearment, and there is a sound coming from somewhere deep inside that is like a wounded animal, it hurts even my own ears, but I can’t stop. “You are going to hurt yourself, baby. You have to stop now.”

  There is no stopping. Once the panic takes hold, I’m at its mercy. My lungs desperately strain to pull in oxygen, never getting enough. I could suffocate like this. If I could just keep the oxygen away, I could suffocate, and it would all be over. I wouldn’t have to do this anymore. No more fear. No more weakness. No longer the victim. I could be free, but my stupid lungs keep sucking at the air—they obviously aren’t on the same page as my brain.

  The pounding of my heart feels as though it will bruise my chest from the inside out. Not a steady thump, thump but a stampede beating its way through my breastbone. Memories flick through my head of being overpowered, held down, beaten, and worse. How can anyone be asked to endure this?

  Why?

  Why can’t I just die already? I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve prayed for mercy. No one listens. No one saves me, but I plead on anyway. I’m trembling so hard my teeth chatter, my entire body thrown into the hysterics that accompanies this illness.

  “No, no, please, no. Please, don’t. Not again.” I’m begging.

  “Shh, love,” someone croons from just in front of my huddled form. Something deep inside me says I can trust that voice, but I’m lost to the madness that is my anxiety. I force myself to open my eyes, to see what monster is chasing me this time and am met with concerned midnight blue eyes. “You’re okay, sweet girl.” Slowly, he reaches out to me, cautiously touching his fingertips lightly to the back of my hand before grabbing ahold of it. “I’ve got you. I swear to you, you are safe with me,” he promises.

  He shouldn’t promise. Promises are made to be broken. There is no such thing as a good promise.

  He kneels there in front of me, holding my hand, talking softly, reassuring me over and over that I’m safe. My brain acknowledges that he isn’t a danger, but years of abuse have reprogrammed my mind. Common sense isn’t attached to my reactions anymore. My fear feeds the panic like gasoline on an open flame. The panic feeds the oxygen stealing anxiety. The anxiety grows into fear… It’s a vicious circle that I will never be free from.

  Several minutes that feel like a lifetime of hours later, the panic slowly recedes. My heart stops thundering, my lungs finally accept the readily available air, and my trembling body calms as I push away the anxiety. The fear. I will it back into the darkness. That horrible place inside myself where I hide all the horrors.

  Not once during my episode did he turn away from me, and now I find that I’m lost in the gaze of the man who saved me, who keeps saving me. My body starts to protest my awkward position, and without the adrenaline coursing through me, the pain comes back tenfold. I nearly pass out when I try to stand.

  Again, being that he is my hero and all, he gently scoops me up, holding me behind the knees and high up on my back where the damage is minimal and carries me back over to the bed. He sets me on my feet and turns me to face away from him. I feel his fingers whisper against my back, checking to see if I’ve hurt myself further. He finds a tender spot, and I hiss out my breath.

  “It’s the worst of them, you’ve reopened the wound a bit, but it’s not bad. You’re lucky. Let me see your hand,” he orders.

  I turn and face him, trying to hide my naked body as much as I can with one hand. I’m blushing from head to toe. I’ve never been an exhibitionist, in fact, I’m more prude than Mother Theresa. Blood is dripping from where I ripped the IV out, and I notice the smears on his shirt. I cringe at the sight. “Sorry,” I say lamely.

  Can I possibly embarrass myself anymore?

  “Do you want to tell me what that was about?” He words it as a question, but from his tone, I know it’s not a question at all. He’s commanding me to tell him why I freaked out.

  “I have issues with anxiety like I said. I used to take medicine to help control it, but since I’ve been with Damon, I haven’t been allowed. It was part of his terms. He liked my fear. Any stressful or overly emotional situation can set off an attack. That’s what you’ve seen. I’m very sorry, I know it’s a lot to deal with.”

  “You don’t have to apologize, Rose. It’s not your fault that Damon didn’t take good care of you.” He makes a frustrated sound, then fiercely says, “If you were mine, I would never let anything happen to you. He doesn’t know what it means to be a master.”

  I can’t help but wonder, does he expect to be my master after paying my debt? He had to know I didn’t have the money. Did he only do it so he could have a new slave? I don’t know if that scares me or excites me. So far, he’s been nothing but kind and gentle. I know he’s a dominant, and that means he isn’t always gentle or kind. With Damon, I was desperate. I had run out of options. He was my last hope. My body was my only currency. Damon was greedy to collect.

  Will this man give me another option, or will demand I pay him with my body?

  “Did you help me so you could own me?” My voice is so quiet it’s barely a whisper.

  “Is that what you think?” He scoffs, “You think I helped you so that I could own you? That I bought you like a steak?” I can’t make my voice work, so I merely nod. “Holy, fuck. Who do you think I am?” His voice is full of fury, and I’m afraid for a second, but then I remember how tender he’s been with me. How patiently he brought me back from the darkness.

  “I’m sorry, you’re right, I don’t know you. You’ve shown me only kindness.” I chew on my inner cheek as I struggle to find the words that will make him understand my worries. “I just don’t understand your motivation for helping me. I mean, you don’t know me. Heck, I don’t even know your name.”

  He shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Matthew, my name is Matthew Bennett. I own this club and several others. My motivation for helping you is that it’s the right thing to do. I know how Damon tr
eats his slaves, and by the looks of what he did to you, in a public scene no less, things were going to be very bad for you in private. I don’t expect you to pay me back,” he pauses a moment and catches my gaze. “In any way.”

  “Oh.” It’s all I can say, I’m embarrassed and disappointed, which leaves me confused. Why would it disappoint me that he doesn’t want me?

  “Let’s get you back into bed. I’ll go get the doc to look you over again and see if we can leave that IV out or if she thinks it’s needed. You should talk to her about your other medications. I’ll have her get you what you need.” He moves towards the door and knocks twice. A few moments later, the lock clicks, and he slips out. Seconds after the door shuts, I hear the lock snick back into place. I should feel offended that I’m locked in, but for some inexplicable reason, I find myself feeling safe. It confuses me to no end.

  3

  Rose

  There is a knock on the door a second before it swings open, and the doctor comes in like a mini-tornado. “Good morning, how is my favorite patient?” Before I have a chance to respond, she has the sheet off my body, and she is poking and prodding at my wounds. “Oh, those are looking so much better. Are you getting up and around like I told you? Is your pain tolerable? I’ve been told you have been refusing the pain medicine.” I swear she has been in my room for twenty seconds and has already had a thirty-minute conversation with herself as well as given me a full examination. “Well?” she asks impatiently.

  “I am doing much better, doc. Honestly, the pain isn’t bad enough to take those pills. They make me feel woozy.” In response to her asking if I have been getting up and around, I raise up to a sitting position and gingerly climb off the bed. “In fact, I am finally able to wear some clothes again,” I say proudly as I slip the light dress over my head to cover my nudity.

  “Good, good! Well, I will tell Master Bennett you’re well enough to go home, please continue with the antibiotics until they are all gone, we don’t need any nasty infections. Oh, and the salve will help the scarring, so you will want to use that as well. Would you like to follow up with me in a week, or will you be seeing your own doctor?”

  I don’t really know how to answer that, I don’t have a doctor. I go to the free clinic, and I’m not sure how they would react to seeing this particular injury. I have no money, so going to her isn’t an option, I do something I hate doing. I lie. “I will go to my normal doctor, thank you very much for everything.”

  She smiles at me brightly, “It was my pleasure.” For the first time since I met her, she seems to be struggling with what to say next. After several awkward silent minutes, she finally speaks, “I normally would mind my own business, but I can’t stand to see abuse like this. Be careful with who you trust. I know it seems silly, but before you commit to someone, especially a dominant, ask for references. Set limits, use a safe word… just be safe, okay?”

  I study my feet. “Um, I honestly doubt I will ever do this again.” I look back up at her. “It isn’t something I found remotely pleasurable. Plus, Damon scared me. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to do this again, even if I wanted.”

  “I understand, well, if you ever need me, you know how to find me. Good luck, Rose.” She unexpectedly pulls me into a gentle hug.

  Once I am alone again, I curl up on the lounger in front of the big windows and pick up my book. One of the nurses brought me a few things to help pass the time, plus some hand-me-down clothes and shoes. I lose myself in a world of vampires and werewolves. Sometime later, I am startled awake when Matthew takes the book off my chest. I apparently dozed off while reading. I must’ve slept for a long while because the sun is low on the horizon outside the window.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you, I was just going to carry you to the bed. I hear that Dr. Martinez gave the go-ahead to send you home. You must be excited to get out of here.”

  I nod. “Yes, she said so long as I keep up with the antibiotics and the salve that I should be good as new soon.” I avoid the topic of home altogether since I don’t have one. I’m hopeful Matthew will let me stay the night. I’m not too keen on being on the streets after dark, especially with the only clothing that I can comfortably wear being flimsy cotton dresses.

  “That’s great. Would you like to stay here for the night, or I could have my driver take you home if you’d rather?” He seems reluctant to offer his driver. I wonder if it’s because he doesn’t want me to leave or if it’s because he is tired of taking care of me, and the driver is just one more thing.

  I chew it over for a few minutes, while I fiddle with putting the throw pillows back into their places. “If it’s not any trouble, I would like to stay here another night. I’m pretty wiped out. That is if it’s really okay?”

  I’m rewarded with a breathtaking smile. Matthew seems genuinely happy and maybe even relieved by my answer. “Absolutely, you can stay. Would you like to have dinner with me tonight? I know I’ve been busy a lot the last few days, but I don’t have any business to handle this evening.” He looks like a hopeful kid in a candy shop that’s just asked his mom for a lollipop.

  Without any thought at all, I agree to spend the evening with him. “I would love to.” He smiles down at me and grabs my hand pulling me toward the door. After the not-so-secret knock, the door swings open, and we’re heading down a sterile hall. This is the first I have been out of my room since I was brought here, so I’m a little surprised to see that this is very much set up like a miniature hospital. There’s a desk with several monitors where Nancy, one of the nurses, is sitting looking through a chart. Matthew leads me further down the hallway, I count five doors. When we pass one, I see that it is a room just like mine.

  “How many rooms do you have here?”

  “We have ten, though we’ve never needed more than a few at a time. It’s always better to be prepared. The rooms aren’t only used for health emergencies. The five down by where you are staying are often used by staff if they are pulling a double shift or if the weather is bad and they can’t drive home,” Matthew explains. “As I’m sure you’ve noticed, we have a fulltime staff of five nurses that work on rotation, and we have two doctors on call for when we have cases that require more than rest and cleaning up.”

  “Wow, so I wasn’t far off in thinking that this is like a mini-hospital.” I can’t keep the awe out of my voice because the amount of money that he put into having this kind of set up for a BDSM club is just insane. Thinking about money is an unpleasant reminder of my current situation and, well, lack of money. I don’t have a clue what I am going to do tomorrow when I leave here. Damon has all of my things. It’s not much, just a few clothes and personal things I didn’t want to leave behind when I ran away, but it’s all I have in the world, and it saddens me to know it’s all gone. The dinging of the elevator brings me out of my morose thoughts.

  We step in, and Matthew enters a code into the keypad then pushes the button labeled PH, go figure. The club not only has a hospital but a penthouse too. The elevator raises so quickly it makes my stomach do a little flip, and my knees feel weak. Picking up on my unsteadiness, Matthew puts his arm through mine, letting me lean on him.

  “Sorry, I guess I’m still a bit off balance.”

  He looks down at me with one of his sexy half grins, “It’s okay, love. You’ve been through the wringer. You’re allowed to be a bit off.” His words soothe my embarrassment, and the way he looks at me with those velvety blue eyes of his make my stomach flip for a totally different reason. I’m so lost in his gaze that I don’t even notice the doors sliding open or the person standing on the other side until that person clears his throat. I look up to see who interrupted our moment, and then I look up some more and then some more. Good God, he’s enormous.

  “Hey boss, dinner has been set out on the balcony, and Chef Gordon said if you need anything to just call down,” the giant says. “I’m going to head down to the club, Slade called up and said that there was a bit of trouble.”

&nbs
p; I don’t know if I should be upset or thankful that the giant doesn’t even acknowledge my presence. He’s huge, I would have to say over six five, and it looks like his muscles have muscles. Not someone to mess with for sure. His black hair is styled in a messy Mohawk. The sides are completely shaved, showing off some kind of tattoo. He has black disk type earrings in his ears, and his lower lip is pierced straight through the center. Looking at his nose, I can tell it’s been broken, probably more than once. All of this would make the man stand out in a crowd as someone to be scared of, but his eyes tell a different story. They say that even though he looks like a menace to society, he isn’t. They are the softest, warmest melted chocolate color I’ve ever seen, reminding me of a big cuddly teddy bear. I instantly trust him. I would put my life in this man’s hands.

  “Thank you, Daniels. I would like you to meet Rose. Rose, this is Kisten Daniels, my right-hand man.”

  I look up at Daniels and smile shyly. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

  Daniels barks a huge, uproarious laugh causing me to blush ten shades of red. “I’m not your ‘sir’ that’s Matthew. You can call me Kisten,” he says through his laughter. “I like this one, Bennett.” He side-steps past us into the elevator. I can still hear his laughter even after the doors slide shut.

  “Sorry about that. Daniels doesn’t have any manners, that’s why I usually keep him in back,” Matthew says, his eyes dancing with amusement. I can tell he is holding back his laughter. I wish he wouldn’t. I would give anything to hear it. “Come.”

  The room he leads me through is extravagant. In fact, it’s even nicer than the mansion Damon lives in, and that is saying something since that place is like a palace. I take everything from the exquisite art hanging on the walls, to the plush leather furniture that looks soft as butter. The wood floors are stained dark with a high shine finish, and the far wall that we are walking toward is floor to ceiling windows that open up to a balcony overlooking the city.