Bedrock

by Britney King

  Addie rolled her eyes. So dramatic. Just get on with it already. “I understand.”

  “Good. I’ll check in with you before the session. I had Liselle pull his client profile. It’s sitting on my desk. I also had her send for an outfit for you. This client prefers that a mask is worn. It’s the number-one rule, ok?”

  Addie checked the window. Her driver was waiting. She had to go. “Great. Anything else I should know?”

  “Just do as I say, ok? Stick to the rules. No matter what happens. That’s the most important thing.”

  “Will do.”

  That woman is so uptight. Addie hung up the phone and flung it in her purse. How in the world is she going to handle a kid?

  When Addie got to the office, she called Liselle and asked her to courier the client’s profile over so that she’d have plenty of time to read it beforehand. Plus, she wanted to go home and have dinner with the boys, so she’d need to get it done over lunch.

  Liselle sounded annoyed. “I can’t.”

  “Why not? You’ve sent stuff over before.” Addie asked, not hiding the irritation in her voice.

  “Because this one is classified.”

  Addie raised her voice. “Aren’t they all?”

  “Yes. But this one’s particularly so.” Liselle replied, sounding amused.

  Addie threw her hands up. “Fine. I’ll come over and get it myself.”

  “The file can’t be removed from this office. As I said, it’s classified.”

  Addie slammed the phone down. “Wonderful.”

  Addie slumped down in her chair and rubbed her temples. She hadn’t realized she was this tense. She closed her eyes, and, instantly, her thoughts turned to William. She wondered what he was doing right now, if maybe he was thinking of her too. She sat up and quickly typed the first part of his name in Google Search but stopped herself. Let sleeping dogs lie.

  The rest of the morning flew by as Addie rushed from meeting to meeting. Over lunch, she headed over to Seven. She entered through the waiting room—a no-no, but since she was irritated, she didn’t care—noting that it was full of men, most of them in suits. How ironic that when the rest of the world was eating lunch . . .

  Addie sat down at Sondra’s desk and removed her salad from her bag. She picked up the file with Mr. X written across the top directly above a CLASSIFIED stamp. Mr. X, huh. She opened it, curiously flipping through when her phone rang. Addie picked up. It was her assistant informing her that she had a meeting pop up. It was an appointment they’d desperately been trying to get. A client they had been trying to secure for weeks. She had to take it. And it started in forty-five minutes across town. Shit. Addie looked at the file. She flipped to the back and quickly read over Mr. X’s preferences. He was seeking corporal punishment using whips but mostly preferred the use of hands combined with choking and was to be told he was worthless and would never amount to anything. A certain musical selection must be on repeat throughout the session. Mr. X’s sole focus was on the B&D aspect of BSDM. He wanted bondage and discipline. So long as no marks were left above the neck. Perfect. She would be able to get out some of her frustration after all.

  Addie peeked at the time. She had to go. She gathered her things and left the file lying on the desk. Glancing back, she told herself she knew all she needed to know. Beat the shit out of him, while wearing a mask, and they were good.

  Later that evening, Addie arrived back at Seven to find the outfit that was left for her. Black slacks, a crisp, short sleeve white button-down shirt, both with Banana Republic tags on them. Lying next to the clothes was a pair of shiny black peep toe Christian Louboutin pumps. Huh. This ensemble could’ve come from her own closet. This was slightly different from her other clients, who preferred latex and leather. Attached to the shoes was a note. Put your hair in a bun. And put the mask on, all the way. Addie held the mask up to her face. It went all the way around her head. Strange.

  Suddenly, her phone rang, startling her. It was Sondra who went over the rules. And then over them again. She must have said everything six times at the very least. Don’t break character. Stick to the routine. Don’t speak to him. No matter what don’t speak. Press play on the iPad in the corner. The music was to play on repeat the entire session.

  “This session is dangerous, Addison. You must promise me that you’ll follow my instructions down to the letter.”

  Addie grimaced. “Dangerous? How? Am I in physical danger, Sondra?”

  Sondra chuckled. “Let’s just say this one is tough to break . . . mentally. Keep your guard up, ok?”

  Addie studied herself in the mirror. She looked healthy—thin yet strong. Andre was changing her body for the better. “Ok. I got it. DON’T MESS THIS UP.”

  Sondra sighed, sounding exasperated. “Just promise me you’ll keep your head in the game and stay smart.”

  Addie slipped the mask on. It was hard to breathe in this damn thing.

  “Promise.” She replied, though it was muffled.

  Addie froze dead in her tracks as she opened the door to the dimly lit room. She gasped as her breath caught. Her throat tightened and her mouth went dry. William looked up as a confused expression crossed his face. She had the mask on. He couldn’t see her face. Suddenly, Sondra’s words echoed in her mind. Keep it together no matter what.

  Addie walked over to the iPad in the corner and glanced at the display. Pettersson’s Symphony No. Seven was set on repeat. Pressing play, she slowly walked back towards William, who was sitting in a chair in the center of the room. Standing in front of him, she placed the collar around his neck, a little tighter than she probably should have. He kept his gaze glued to the floor.

  Addie stepped back, taking him in. He was beautiful like a work of art the way he sat in the chair with his chiseled body. But he was broken, his face twisted. Pained. She’d seen that look enough times now to know a broken man when she saw one. How was it possible that this man was the same William she knew? So many emotions ran through her mind. What in the hell was he doing here? And why had Sondra put her in this position?

  Suddenly, Addie became enraged. She’d had it with Sondra, with William, with Patrick, with everyone. She allowed her emotions to spill out. Anger poured out of her. The blow that struck William across the face hit him with such force that spit flew from his mouth. Her hand hurt but she barely felt the pain. She was numb. Addie lifted his head up by pulling his hair and struck him again and again. She let go of his hair. William let his head fall as tears seeped from the corners of his eyes. Addie slapped him over and over again. All the while he hung his head. She gave it everything she had, allowing the feelings she’d pent up inside over the last few months, maybe her whole life, come to the surface, fueling her rage.

  When she’d had enough, depleted and panting, she turned and walked to the desk in the back of the room. Tears stung her cheeks, staining the inside of her mask as she took out a note card and scribbled her message. You’re not even worth a full session. You’re not worth anything, much less my time. Get out.

  Walking back to William, she carefully removed the collar. Bending down, Addie studied his face. Unable to help herself, she kissed his cheek where it was still wet with the tears that had fallen. William flinched and visibly recoiled. The mask didn’t allow her skin to touch his. Needing to feel him, she trailed her fingers down his face, the lines already etched in her memory. Addie placed the note in his hand, curled his fingers around it, then turned and left the room.

  Back in Sondra’s office, she collapsed, sobbing until there was nothing left. Addie stayed there for a long while her mind ran over all of the ways she should have seen this coming. It had only been a matter of time before she’d end up broken, too.

  Finally, when there were no more tears left to cry, she pulled herself together. She gathered her things, went to Sondra’s desk, picked up the file, and stuffed it in her bag. CLASSIFIED, my ass.

  Addie couldn’t get home fast enough. She needed to hold her boys—to tell them
how much she loved them, how much she wanted them, and how proud she was of them. Addie knew she was a good mother, and yet she still wondered if it was enough—if she was enough. Did she tell them she loved them often enough? Were they going to end up like her clients? Like her? Feeling unlovable and unworthy, never quite good enough, remedying their pain by attaching themselves to all the wrong things, anything to fill the void.

  She wouldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t let that happen.

  Addie’s phone lit up. Again. Sondra had called at least five dozen times since she’d left Seven. Fuck Sondra.

  Once home, she relieved Kelsey, telling her to go home even though she was staying with them for the time being. Addie needed to be alone.

  Later, after she’d showered, she tiptoed into Connor’s room and sat on the edge of his bed. Addie watched the rise and fall of his chest as he slept and inhaled his little boy scent. He was growing up so fast yet still trapped somewhere between a little and a big kid. Some days he tried on the big kid outfit for size. While others he was still content in his little kid uniform. He wore them both well, although neither quite fit, one still too big, the other too small. Addie stayed there, watching him sleep. She studied his face and breathed in his innocence. Silent tears fell as she remembered the times she’d cried herself to sleep at his age because no one had cared enough to comfort her. She cried for the little girl and what a shame it was that no one had ever loved her this much.

  Addie awoke later in the darkness, shaking. You’re ok, she told herself. It was just a bad dream. She sat up, trying to shake it off. In the dream, she was naked, chained, and locked in a cage. She was battered and bruised. Thinking about the dream rattled her. It was just a nightmare, she told herself again as she went downstairs and put on some hot tea. Still shaken and unable to sleep, Addie removed William’s client folder from her bag, curled up on the couch, and began reading.

  Due to the nature of work and celebrity in which this client is involved, he will be referred to only as Mr. X in all correspondence.

  Over the course of seven years, from five to twelve years of age, Mr. X was brutally tortured and abused daily at the hands of his stepfather. The abuse was ritualistic in nature, taking place each day as his stepfather arrived home from the office. Mr. X was expected to be waiting at the door holding a scotch, made to perfection, just the way his stepfather liked it: chilled with two ice cubes. The scotch had to reach a certain level on the glass. No more, no less. After his stepfather tossed his drink back, he instructed William to put on Pettersson’s Symphony No. Seven and remove his clothes. He beat him for the duration of the piece. When the music ended, although sometimes he ordered that it be played again, the stepfather would tell Mr. X that “he knew the little bastard was just using him for money, mooching off of him” and that “he was so worthless his own father didn’t even want him.” He instructed Mr. X to repeat the same sentence seven times over: He would never be as successful as his stepfather was because he was a worthless piece of shit.

  Over time, Mr. X learned not to show any emotion during the beatings. Otherwise, the intensity was far more severe and longer in duration. When asked where his mother was, Mr. X replied only that it was the time of her daily massage. When questioned whether or not she knew about the beatings he endured at the hands of his stepfather, Mr. X commented that he wasn’t sure, but that he thought she had suspected.

  At the age of eleven, his mother divorced the abuser and remarried. Mr. X has implied that with the new stepfather there was a short reprieve and that eventually the abuse continued, though the physical beatings were less intense while the verbal assaults held the same, if not increased, intensity.

  Mr. X has made significant progress during his time as my client. In the beginning, he was unable to show any sign of emotion and had a difficult time performing as a submissive. Although over time he has shown improvement, his capability to feel and/or exhibit emotion still remains severely limited.

  It is my personal opinion that Mr. X suffers from Reactive Attachment Disorder (RAD) marked by emotional detachment in the second sense: a decision to avoid engaging emotional connections, rather than an inability or difficulty in doing so, typically for personal, social, or other reasons. In this sense, it can allow people to maintain boundaries, psychic integrity, and avoid undesired impact by or upon others, related to emotional demands. As such, it is a deliberate mental attitude, which avoids engaging the emotions of others.

  Addie set the file down, unable to read any further. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she forced herself to breathe. Her mind wandered to William and memories of the time they’d spent together. Suddenly, there was clarity where there had been none. There were little things that at the time she had thought were odd which now made perfect sense.

  Reading his profile had been too much to bear. William, who had never been able to emotionally connect with anyone, had fallen in love with her. And the realization that she’d hurt him to cover her own ass was more than she could handle. Knowing that she lied to him to keep from getting hurt herself, never once considering what she might be doing to him, was excruciating. Due to his playboy reputation, Addie always figured that he wasn’t the type who wanted anything more than casual sex. And she was ok with that. But she never once considered that his reputation had more to do with the fact that he couldn’t give more, not even if he’d wanted to. Addie now understood that her acceptance of his playboy lifestyle, the fact that she never demanded more from him on an emotional level, which was easy because she was married, in addition to remaining emotionally unattached herself, gave William the freedom to explore his emotions.

  All at once it became clear why their connection was so intense, why he drove her insane, and why she couldn’t stay away from him. Addie understood how it could be that she was in love with him but unable to admit it, even to herself. She and William were one and the same: both broken, both confined by their past, both adding fuel to the other’s flames.

  Sixteen

  The following morning, Addie had originally planned on calling in sick. She hadn’t slept. She was emotionally and physically spent. It wasn’t until Andre showed up and coached her through one of his signature grueling workouts that she surprisingly found her second wind and decided that wouldn’t hurt her to go into the office for a little while. She needed to have a few words with Sondra, anyway.

  Addie showered and dressed in a long t-shirt dress and sandals; she was going casual today. Her days of caring what Sondra or anyone else thought were over.

  Once downstairs, she sat sipping her coffee and watched the boys enjoying their breakfast carefully prepared by the chef that her lies were paying for. She watched them eat, listened to their laughter, and wondered how anything could be more perfect. She didn’t have any work scheduled at Seven this weekend. Maybe they’d get away, just the three of them.

  Addie heard her driver pull up, and as she kissed and hugged the boys, she lingered. “You know how much I love you guys, right?”

  “Yes, Mama.” The boys replied in unison.

  Addie laughed and threw open her arms, extending them as wide as she could. “THIS much!”

  Parker climbed down from his chair and ran to Addie, hugging her knee. “I wuv you this much, Mama.”

  Her heart slowly melted into a million tiny pieces. Being a mother was hard, painfully hard sometimes, but moments like these were what made it all worth it. Addie bent down and wrapped Parker in the biggest bear hug she could muster, considering how sore she was, until he begged for mercy. Before long, the other boys joined in, and the four of them tickled each other and laughed like lunatics in a pile on the kitchen floor. Addie had no idea that it would be this lasting memory that would hold her together over the next forty-eight hours. That she would conjure up thoughts of this very moment as she begged for her life and tried to survive the most horrific, excruciating situation one could possibly imagine.

  Sondra was, not surprisingly, waiting in Addie’s off
ice when she arrived. Addie walked to her desk and sat down without saying a word, pretending she wasn’t there.

  Sondra eyed her up and down, blatantly displeased. “What in the hell are you wearing?”

  Addie shrugged her shoulders. “Whatever I damn well please.”

  Sondra tried another direction. “Why haven’t you taken my calls? Are you trying to break contract?” She hissed.

  Addie held her phone to her face, scanning her emails. “I’ve been busy. But then again you of all people should know that.”

  “Look, Addison, I understand that I put you in a difficult position. But in this line of work one has to be capable of handling her emotions and putting them aside when the situation calls for it.”

  “And?”

  “And . . . act like an adult about it.”

  Addie dropped her phone and looked Sondra dead in the eye. “Look. I completed the session. I did what you wanted. I followed your rules. I’m not sure why you’re here. Am I missing something?”

  Sondra folded her arms and thought carefully about what to say next. “I’m here because you wouldn’t take my calls. You were fantastic, Addison. You pulled it off. He wants to see you again. Tonight.”

  Addie’s eyes grew wide. She clenched her jaw. She was this close to losing her shit. “Fuck you, Sondra. I agreed to six clients. Not seven. So tell me, are YOU trying to break contract? Because I dare you. Hell I beg you. Just try me.

  “Addison, he asked to see you from here on out. Said he felt a connection that he’d never felt before. This is HUGE! Don’t you have anything to say? Aren’t there any questions you want to ask?”

  “No.” Addie replied.

  She stood, suddenly changing her mind, and walked towards Sondra, her face growing hot. “Well, actually, there is. How could you?” Addie stuck her finger in Sondra’s face, forcing her backward. “I have bent over backward for you . . . for this agency. And you throw me under the bus? Just like that? You could’ve told me. You could’ve warned me! Months ago! You know—said something along the lines of stay away from that one. He’s trouble. You’ll fall in love. Only he won’t love you back. BECAUSE HE CAN”T!” She had Sondra backed into a corner. Addie wiped the angry tears from her eyes and looked Sondra up and down with disgust.