Dick Does Jane

by Brynn Paulin

  “Get a room!” Dick’s siblings catcalled.

  “There will be no peace here,” Dick predicted, he threaded his fingers through hers and led her to the picnic table that sat beneath a huge white-wood gazebo. His parents were down on the lakeshore just beyond it while his brother and sister were giving him hell.

  “They’re fun,” she said, before they went up the steps. He guided her to one of the benches and she sat, carefully hiding her wince at the tenderness of her behind. She’d be reminded of last night’s escapades for a few days to come, she suspected. Last night and this morning, she reminded herself, recalling the spectacular wake-up call he’d delivered.

  Syb narrowed her eyes and glared at her brother. “You should have put some benzocaine on that.”

  “Who’s the doctor here?” Dick snapped.

  “Well, excuse me, Dr. Anderson, but the patient could cite you for malpractice.”

  “He did use some,” Jane cut in.

  “My God,” Syb exclaimed, staring at Dick again. “What did you use to paddle her? A tree limb?”

  “Mind your own business, Syb. You’re just jealous because Kellon doesn’t spank you,” Dick retorted.

  Jane couldn’t believe the bent of this conversation and was amused—until Syb’s eyes got wide and shimmery. The woman shot to her feet and dashed off into the house without a word.

  “Damn it, Dixon,” Oliver ground out. “She broke up with Kellon.”

  “Oh fuck,” Dick swore. He shook his head. “I need to go talk to her. Jane, will you be—”

  “Go,” she interrupted.

  “She’s really broken up,” Oliver told her after Dick had followed his sister inside. “Happens.” He shrugged and a sadness in his eyes told her it had happened to him and not that long ago.

  “Wasn’t he into BDSM?” she asked.

  “Sure he is. He’s even part of the security team at The Dungeon. He’s completely into the D/s lifestyle—except for the spanking, flogging, paddling, anything corporal punishment part. Doesn’t make sense to me. Anyway…happens,” he repeated. “Two people think they’re on the same wavelength then they find out they’re not and they stop agreeing on anything. Emotions run so high…” He shrugged. “Well, it doesn’t happen to everyone. Look at my mom and dad.”

  That was more information than she wanted to know about his parents.

  “What is The Dungeon?” she asked.

  “It’s a club. We’ve belonged there for years, and Syb works there. I don’t know how much longer she can hold out though with Kellon working there, too. I’m just glad Dixon is back on track. He went through some pretty rough stuff not long ago. Wouldn’t talk to any of us about it, but some woman trampled all over him. He holed up for awhile. When he came out, he was muttering about revenge—not that I think he’d do that. Anyway, Syb and I are glad you like him for what he is. He’s never brought anyone to meet the fam before. He must be pretty serious. It was so weird before. He was trying to be all vanilla and—Hon, are you all right?”

  Biting her lip, she stared at the white plastic tablecloth covering the old wood picnic table. Dick had been trying to be “all vanilla” and she’d happened. She’d almost killed the man he was, because she couldn’t accept him. She hadn’t seen the real Dick. And she’d driven him to revenge.

  Shaking, she gathered herself. “I’m not really feeling great. I hate to ask, but do you think you could drive me into town?”

  She and Dick had left her car at her apartment when she’d gone home to change. If Oliver took her into town, she could manage from there.

  “Sure…” he said slowly. “Do you want me to get Dixon? He—”

  “No,” she interrupted. “Syb needs him. I’m sorry I made her cry.” And at the moment, she was feeling so sad and utterly betrayed she didn’t know what to think. She didn’t know if she could handle Dick and his full-on intensity. And he’d said he loved her. Liar!

  “You didn’t make her cry,” Oliver replied and shook his head, his brows together.

  “Not directly, but…I really need to get home and lie down. I’d really appreciate if you took me.”

  “Okay…” Oliver still didn’t look convinced, but he ran down to tell his parents where he was going and that he’d be back soon. In minutes, he and Jane were in his car and shortly, he dropped her at her apartment.

  She waved goodbye and headed inside, but as soon as he was gone, she headed back to the sidewalk. She didn’t want to be alone right now and she didn’t want to face her empty apartment. Sadly, she considered heading into the office. There’d be plenty to do there, but she didn’t particularly want to sit in her office either. The sense of betrayal inside her was like acid eating through everything.

  How could he do this to her?

  Unable to think straight and unwilling to be alone, she decided to walk down the street to the movie theater. She could lose herself in a mindless movie and forget all about Dick and his wonderful family and his jerk-face betrayal motives. She chose a movie that was purported to be a comedy. And spent more time crying than laughing. The whole basis of the plot revolved around revenge and betrayal gone awry—and she didn’t find it funny at all.

  Sadness pervaded her soul as she walked home. Maybe she should never have broken off with him the first time, but that didn’t excuse his behavior. Did spanking her give him a rush of pleasure at getting even with the girl who’d broken his heart? Did he think it was funny that she actually got off on it?

  She didn’t care. He was an asshole. Still, as she walked, she knew she should have confronted him today. She still needed to. She had to tell him exactly why she’d taken off. She had to see his face when he realized she knew what he’d been up to.

  He was going to be pissed.

  She didn’t give a rat’s ass. She might be damaged goods with a crappy past and a shitty family, but she wasn’t a toy and he had no right to screw with her.

  She’d been right to think he’d be angry. As she approached her apartment, she saw Dick waiting on her stairs…just sitting there, waiting. He actually saw her before she saw him. Like an immovable force he rose then planted himself in the middle of the sidewalk as if daring her to keep walking and equally daring her to run away.

  Her steps faltered then she resumed her pace. She’d have to face him whether she rushed to him or took a detour around the world. All too soon, they were a few feet apart. She stopped just outside his reach, but he didn’t move toward her.

  “Explain,” he ground out. “I don’t believe you were sick.”

  “Your brother told me…”

  “Olly told you what?”

  She was strong, she’d proved that in her years of healing after therapy, and she drew all that power around her to stand up tall before him and his commanding presence. “He told me about the woman who hurt you so bad a few months ago.” She raised her eyebrow and glared at him. “About your plot for revenge.”

  Dick swore under his breath, and his stance softened. “I knew I should have punched Olly when he told me he’d driven you home,” he muttered. “Look, Jane—”

  “Don’t ‘look, Jane’ me. You set out to hurt me.”

  “No. I didn’t.”

  “You never wanted revenge on me?” she snapped.

  “Lo—” He sighed. “I’m not going to lie. I might have wanted that for a few minutes, but how childish is that? I—”

  “I want you to leave now,” she interrupted. “I don’t want you near me. I don’t want you to call me. I want you out of my life.”

  “Jane, listen!”

  “No. I don’t trust you, Dick. I don’t trust you not to hurt me.”

  “Do you think this doesn’t hurt?” he asked her. “Knowing I love you and that you don’t love me back enough to give us a shot, it hurts more than before. You’ve seen the real me now. And it’s not enough. You don’t have faith in me.”

  She flinched inwardly at that. She did love him, and he’d betrayed her. “There are other women—
better women,” she told him on a rolling barrage of fury. “Maybe they’ll have faith in you. You haven’t betrayed them.”

  He shook his head. “Just believe me, Jane. I can promise you the world—and I would give you anything—and I can promise to always protect you and be there for you, but I can’t make things right unless you believe in me.”

  “You’re right. You can’t make things right. I don’t trust you. For this lifestyle to work, I have to trust you, right? Well…I don’t.” She fought back a sob. So much of her being was protesting this. But without trust, they couldn’t go on, and she felt as if her soul were hemorrhaging inside her. She’d really liked him before, but the past few weeks…

  Oh, God, she loved him.

  “Jane…” he murmured sadly and sighed as if the air was coming from his feet. His knuckles trailed along her cheek, and she cringed away. His hand fell dead to his side, and his shoulders slumped. “Go inside. I’ll leave when I see you’re safe.”

  Her head dipped, her arms wrapping around her middle to hold in the pain that wanted to explode from her and leave her a bloody, wallowing mess on the cement. Not in front of him. She’d fall apart inside.

  She shook her head. She’d survive this, too. It was what she did.

  She turned and headed to the steps.

  Dick watched Jane walk away, his heart thudding a death knell in his chest. Watching her go and not chasing after her and dragging her into his arms was the hardest, most torturous things he’d ever done—and that included endless shifts as an intern when he was finishing med school.

  Pain shafted through him as he watched her go. He waited until he saw the light go on inside her apartment then he allowed himself to trudge to his car.

  He could command her and love her and dominate her until the end of time, but if she didn’t trust him to care for her, it was nothing. Jane had to work this out inside herself—even if it killed him.

  Chapter Eight

  The razor blades had been sitting on the island between her kitchen and her living room for a week. Jane had opened them, spread them out on the surface, touched them, pressed them to her skin, but she hadn’t cut herself.

  She didn’t need to do that. She’d been gutted down on the street in front of her apartment.

  The temptation was still there.

  Pulling out a stool, she took a seat at the counter and aimlessly picked up one of the blades. It was so light in her fingers, and she knew the sting it would bring as it sliced neatly through her skin. Careful of the sharp edge, she turned it in her grasp. She drew the edge along the inside of her arm, recalling the sensation. A moment of pressure then such a release…

  But it’s never good enough.

  Angrily, she tossed the razor back on the counter. God damn Dick and his voice in her head and….and… How dare he take revenge on her!

  This was stupid. She wasn’t going to cut, and she wasn’t going to piss and moan about Dick anymore. She was going to get her life in order and move on.

  Rounding the corner, she grabbed up her trashcan and used a piece of mail to swipe the blades into the garbage. It was time to clean up this mess she was making. For good measure, she tossed the bags of chocolate and Fritos sitting nearby. She had to stop eating crap, too. At this rate, she’d gain fifty pound eating junk because she was so mad. That would show everyone, wouldn’t it?

  Stupid. Really stupid.

  She didn’t have work today so she was still wearing baggy sweats and a holey T-shirt. Her hair wasn’t brushed, and she needed to shower. There just hadn’t seemed much point in it. She shook her head. What was the point of standing up for herself if she let herself go to hell and didn’t bother to buck up?

  Enough of this. She’d get cleaned up then she’d head to the store and buy something that wasn’t junk food.

  She plopped down on the chair again and buried her head in her hands. The stink of this situation was that Dick hadn’t tried to fight for her. He hadn’t tried to defend himself and convince her she was wrong. Which proved she wasn’t.

  She’d been furious last week. Enraged and ready to explode at him—she had actually. If he’d just grabbed her and made her listen…if he’d sworn it wasn’t true, this could all be a bad dream, but just that…a dream.

  “It’s not a freaking fairytale, Jane. It’s not Dick and Jane Live Happily Ever After.” Not together anyway. But she’d survive this. She always did. She’d find someone to love her.

  Like a burst dam, tears flooded down her cheeks. She didn’t want anyone else to love her! She wanted Dick, damn it. And she wanted him to not be an asshole.

  “Keep dreaming,” she muttered. Angrily, she stomped into the bathroom. First a shower, then the store, then maybe a pedicure and a haircut. And finally, she’d track down this Dungeon place to find Syb and let her know she was sorry about last week. Even though she hadn’t known about Syb’s breakup, Jane felt somewhat responsible for hurting Dick’s sister and she wanted that off her chest, too. She liked Syb, and if Dick weren’t her brother, perhaps they could have been friends.

  * * * *

  “Oh my God, Jane, what’s wrong?”

  Jane stopped dead center in the cereal aisle of the Super Thriftymart and turned to look at her sister. It just figured that Miranda would be shopping today, too.

  “What?” Jane asked, feeling a bit waspish and not wanting the usual putdowns that came with her family.

  “You look like crap. What’s wrong?”

  Right. Same old tune. “I always look like crap, remember, Randa. Fat, dowdy, plain, sloppy…pathetic.”

  Her sister sighed and looked away, her chin crumpling as her bottom lip quivered. She drew it between her teeth. “I’m a bitch, okay?” she admitted. “That doesn’t mean I don’t care when you’re obviously hurting. Did that doctor hurt you? I’ll kick his ass and change pediatricians if I have to.”

  Jane stared at her. What the heck had happened to Miranda?

  “I know, crazy right?” Randa said. She sniffled, still fighting tears. “I hate this, you know? You and me always fighting. All the hate… I don’t have any friends, Janey. I want you to be mine. And I never really meant any of those things I said. You’re my little sister. Of course, you’re beautiful. Except for right now. You really are looking…peaked.”

  “Miranda…I don’t know what to say…”

  “Say you’ll forgive me. Please.”

  “I… What happened to you in the last week?”

  “Sitting alone in a big old house you earned by fucking a self-centered jerk affords a lot of time for soul searching. Yeah, I’m not feeling charitable toward him,” she sniffed then wiped at her eyes and left a streak of mascara.”

  “You’ve got…”

  Miranda looked down at her hand. “Well, fuck it. Who cares anyway?”

  “I do,” Jane said, making her decision. She pulled clean tissues from her purse, opened a bottle of water from her cart then dabbed away the mess. “Trust me. I’ve spent plenty of time abusing myself because I thought no one cared. Don’t you start.”

  Her sister caught her arm. “I always felt guilty about the cutting.”

  “Why? You weren’t doing it. Besides, you had your own problems. We all did.” She took a deep breath and shoved the blackened tissues in her purse. “I kicked Dick to the curb.”

  “Why? If I say so, you don’t look very happy about it.”

  “I’m not. He was the best thing to come into my life. But…well, I broke up with him months ago and then we were having another try at it. But I found out he just wanted revenge.”

  Miranda narrowed her eyes. “How long were you apart?”

  “About four months.”

  “Baby girl, men don’t have that kind of determination. And he didn’t look at all like a man bent on revenge. He looked like a man in love—even when I hit on him.”

  “Randa!” And Jane had thought her sister had changed.

  “Don’t be mad at me. It was stupid, and I was feeling ugly
and lonely. I promise not to be so mean anymore. But believe me. That man loves you.”

  Jane wished she could believe it. Hope wouldn’t rise inside her. She was as empty and full of echoing pain as she’d been when she’d first sent him away.

  Miranda gave her an awkward hug then quickly stepped away. “Maybe he’s scared, too. You really are beautiful, and you’re terrifying when you’re angry.”

  “Dick’s not scared of anything.” Her big, tough Dom afraid? Not in this lifetime.

  “Jane?”

  She looked up at her older sister, and for the first time in a long time they looked into each other’s eyes without being full of anger.

  “Just give him a chance. He loves you, I promise. I’ll give you my youngest kid if I’m wrong.” Said child chose that moment to toss a box of Cheerios down the aisle. Miranda sighed. “I’ll give him to you anyway,” she said hopefully.

  Jane laughed. “No, but I’ll babysit and give you a break soon, okay? I’ll call you. Promise.”

  After another uncomfortable hug, the sisters headed their opposite ways—Miranda seeming happier and Jane full of swirling thoughts.

  * * * *

  Her thoughts were still swirling as she headed for The Dungeon with her newly painted bright-red toenails and freshly shaped and highlighted hair. Feeling a lot better about herself, she’d stopped home and put on a pair of red open-toed heels and a white sundress decorated with red checks and a red belt.

  Red… The color of love.

  He loves you.

  Did he? Could she trust her sister’s opinion? And how on earth would she broach that subject? She shook her head, and her hair bounced nicely around her shoulders.

  Syb first and she’d go from there.

  She almost ran into a man who was barreling out of the establishment.

  “Sorry—Oh, hey…Jane…” Oliver said. “Wow, you look amazing.”

  “Thanks,” she said. He, on the other hand, had a black eye. She gestured toward it. “I’m afraid to ask.”

  “Apparently, I have a big mouth.”

  “Oh man…I’m sorry, Oliver.”