“Mother. Bruno. What a surprise. What brings you by?” she barely managed to ask in a pleasant tone.
“What is the meaning of this?” her mother screeched and held up the fistful of paper. “This is not the daughter I raised.”
Holy hell. She gestured for them to enter. Playing dumb was only going to make the situation more painful. “Come on in.”
“Your father, may he rest in peace, is weeping in his grave right now, saying ‘Why, Jasmine? Why have you brought shame to this family? Why do you stab your mother in the heart?’” she wailed then drew up short when she spotted Marco standing in the living room. The poor man looked as if he couldn’t decide whether to be scared or amused. “Who is this man?”
“Marco, this is my mother and stepfather, Bruno and Oksana Brodsky. Mother, this is police Captain Marco DeWinter.”
“A policeman?” Her eyebrows rose so high they disappeared under the scarf. “Have you come to arrest my daughter for indecency?”
“Oksana” Bruno said gruffly and took a seat on the couch. “I don’t think he is here as cop. He is barefoot. I think he is, what’s the word? Boytoy?”
Marco’s eyes widened in surprise while Jasmine rolled hers. If this situation had happened to any of her Dom friends, she’d be on the floor howling with laughter. At the moment all she wanted was to melt into the floor and be absorbed into the earth.
Lord grant her strength.
“Marco is my boyfriend,” she answered.
“Boyfriend?” The way her mother said the word it was as if it were a disease. “You have a boyfriend? Since when? You have not brought him home. You have not allowed us to meet him and approve of the relationship.”
Oh no she didn’t. Really? Really.
“I don’t need you to approve anything. I’m an adult who can make my own choices.”
“Obviously not when you parade around dressed as a whore. I did not raise a whore!”
Jasmine felt the skin around her mouth tighten further. Her face was going to become permanently pinched the longer she tried to hold back what she really wanted to say. She crossed to Marco’s side and placed her hand on his chest, drawing his attention away from the sobbing woman and onto her. “Marco, my suitcases are in my closet. Can you pack me some clothes you think will be appropriate for the next few days? My bag of toiletries is on the bathroom counter.”
“If you need anything, call for me.” He pressed a kiss into the center of her palm then looked toward her parents and nodded. “Ma’am. Sir.”
The hard line of his mouth suggested he had several choice words for her mother, but he did as he was asked. That restraint coupled with the glance he gave her at the door before he stepped inside made her love him a little more.
“Jasmine—”
“Mother.” She cut off the impending rant and faced the smaller woman with her head held high. “Before you launch into another tirade or start praying for my soul, let me remind you that I have done nothing wrong.”
“Nothing?” She waved the papers in the air. “You call this nothing?”
“I’m sorry you found out about my lifestyle in such a manner.” Speaking of which, how had her mother found those photos? “I knew you wouldn’t understand my choices, which is why I haven’t mentioned them.” And it appeared as if that instinct was spot on.
“Choices? You engage in these perversions by choice? Who taught you this? Where in my house did you hear about such things?” She began to pace back and forth, the papers in her hands turned into confetti as she shredded them during her lamenting. “I knew it was a bad idea to allow to you to go to college. I should have forced you to stay home and find a husband. If you had just done what I asked, you would be happy now.”
“No, Mother, you would be happy and I would be miserable.”
Her mother paid her no heed. “I would have grandbabies and a daughter who was respectable.”
The diatribe bounced on her last nerve. “Are you even listening to what you’re saying? Look around you! You want to talk about normal and happiness? Most normal people would be proud to have a daughter who put herself through medical school and became a doctor. Who owns her own home and has friends and does what she loves. But not you. Oh no. You want a daughter who is a drone. A mindless baby factory with no other purpose in life but to serve others. That’s called slavery, Mother, and was outlawed years ago. I deserve more from life.”
“Is that what you think I am? A mindless drone?” She turned to Bruno. “What is a drone?”
“I do not know.” He shrugged. “Some kind of gadget-computer-thing.”
“I am not a computer.” Tears clung to her mother’s lashes. “You think I am nothing but a machine?”
A headache formed behind eyes. “I think you are a woman who is afraid of the world so asks little of it to keep safe. But there’s more to life than being a wife and mother. You have a choice. That is the beauty of living in this country. Freedom of choice. That’s why your family came here. You have the life you want and that’s fine. And I have mine. I am not you and I don’t have to be.”
“No. Instead you live a life of sin and degradation.”
Of course she would know the meaning of the word degradation but not drone. “Who isn’t living in sin, Mother? Show me a person who claims otherwise and I will show you a liar.” She folded her arms across her chest. “What are you really angry about? Are you really angry that I’m a dominatrix? That I like to dress in sexy clothes and make men beg for the chance to please me? Or are you really angry because you now have irrefutable proof that you have absolutely no control over me?”
The sharp intake of breath and the roaming of her mother’s gaze confirmed it was the latter even as she sputtered. “That is ridiculous. Of course it’s about this sexy business.”
“Is it? Why? Is my lifestyle unusual? Not as unusual as you may think. I’m a trained professional in a controlled environment, and I screen all of my partners both medically and mentally. I can understand why you may be shocked, but if you have paid any attention to me at all during my life, this news should not be a surprise. But you’ve never paid attention to me, have you? Unless I exhibited some sort of behavior that was a mirror image of you, you didn’t notice. And that’s sad, Mother.”
“You speak nonsense.” Her mother sniffled and swayed on her feet. “You have let these vile perversions make you believe you can disrespect me in this way. No more. This ends now. You will pack your things and move home. You will marry a nice man and forget these disgusting ideas.”
The sheer audacity of the demands blindsided her like a fistful of sand in the eyes. “Not happening. Ever. I’m not a child.”
“You are my child,” her mother roared. “You want a choice? This is your choice! Come home now or stay. If you stay…you will no longer be my daughter.”
It was Jasmine’s turn to gasp. Would her mother actually push her that far?
In a voice barely louder than a whisper she warned, “Be careful what you wish for, Mother. I can make that happen.”
Her mother took a step closer and lifted her chin. “Come with me or you are no longer welcome in my family.”
Ice infused her veins and rooted her to the floor. She looked to Bruno, who watched them as if sitting ringside at a title fight. When he met her gaze, he lifted his hands and nodded, encouraging her to go along with her mother’s wishes.
What the hell was happening? It was if a giant television had appeared before her and she was watching a horrible Lifetime Channel movie about a dysfunctional family in crisis. But this wasn’t a movie and the horribleness was spewing from her mother’s mouth. Her mother. A woman who was supposed to love her unconditionally.
Only she never did have a mother like that, did she?
In the future, when she looked back at this moment in her life, what would she remember? The clothes she wore? The wild look in her mother’s eyes? The color of the walls or the time of day? Or the prickly numbness that one feels, like when their
foot falls asleep. No sense of touch, but a million hot pinpricks that brought tears to your eyes.
Maybe every detail. Perhaps nothing at all.
For certain it wouldn’t be the walk to the front door. Before she realized she had moved, the cold doorknob was in her hand and the door pulled open.
She turned to face her mother. “I am hoping that it’s only confusion and fear spurring your actions today. When you are ready to accept me as I am, I’ll be waiting. Until then, you may leave my home.”
As she spoke, the words sounded muffled in her ears. Absorbed by the cotton shell her heart wrapped around her for protection. The situation was too surreal to process in real time, if ever. Her mother had drawn an unreasonable line in the sand, and Jasmine refused to kowtow to fear. She was who she was. To behave otherwise was not an option.
Oksana drew up to her full five-foot-tall height and sniffed with indignation. With a nod at her husband, she swept out of the room like a queen bearing a long robe of self-righteousness.
Bruno paused at the door and looked toward his wife’s retreating back then back at Jasmine. With a weary sigh, he continued down the hall without another sound save for the heavy tread of his loafers on the carpet. Not once did Oksana look in her direction, even as the elevator doors slid shut between them. The message was clear. From now on, Jasmine didn’t exist in her world.
* * * * *
Jasmine stood with her back against the cement wall near the entrance of the parking garage as Marco searched his car for hidden explosives and GPS trackers. Of all the day’s events, it was odd that this measure of precaution was not the strangest thing to have happened to her. And it wasn’t even eleven a.m. yet. Yep, the morning had been one for the record books.
She pulled the lapels of her jacket across her chest, not because she was cold but because she liked the pressure against her body, much as she suspected was similar to the comforting embrace of a cocoon around a caterpillar. From the moment she closed the front door on her parents, her brain had shut down and gone on autopilot. Thoughts, words, ideas never fully formed as a numbness took up residency between her ears.
Was this really what it felt like to be disowned? The sensation was interesting, that was for certain.
“One more test and we’ll be on our way,” Marco said as he joined her at the entrance and pushed her further back into the hall. “Stand behind the wall, just in case.”
He held his breath and pushed the ignition button on the fob. The engine caught and purred with a gentle roar. No boom. No fires. All appeared as it should.
If it had been the day before, she would have thought him paranoid, but after the day’s events, anything was possible. Marco was nothing if not completely serious when it came to his job. If he felt there was a threat against their lives, he was not going to take chances. She couldn’t fault him for being cautious.
Marco grunted with approval and placed his arm around her shoulders. “Ready?”
She nodded and stuck close by him as they dashed to the car and slid inside. In seconds they were on the road.
Marco surveyed their surroundings with quick turns of his head while she stared out the passenger window as they passed block after block of concrete and glass structures. Out in the city, people were going about their day wrapped in the drama of their own lives. Could any of them claim to have had as a tumultuous day as she? God bless them if that was the case.
She still didn’t know where they were going, and truthfully, she didn’t care as long as Marco was at her side with his quiet strength. Not once did he make a pithy remark or a generic comment of sorrow on her behalf as most people might. Instead he had allowed her to gather her things and prepare for their journey with silent support and respect for her dignity.
“I liked it when you called me your boyfriend.”
“What?” She turned to him with a surprised giggle. What a funny thing to say.
He shrugged and gave her a half-smile that brought out the dimple in one cheek. “Earlier, when you told your parents I was your boyfriend. I know that word is kind of juvenile, but I liked that you claimed me as someone who is more than your friend.”
“Do you want to be more than my friend?”
He reached for her hand to place a kiss on her knuckles, then placed it on his thigh. “Baby, I want to be mean much, much more to you than just a friend.”
“If you continue to call me baby, that’s never going to happen.” She batted her lashes and squeezed his quadriceps.
For once the nickname didn’t make her want to pull her hair out. In fact, she wanted him to pull over to the side of the road so she could climb onto his lap and have him hold her tight for a really long time. If there hadn’t been a vindictive crime lord threatening them, she knew he’d do it in a heartbeat. He’d offer her the comfort of his arms for as long as she needed, then fall to his knees if she asked. He was that type of man.
Giddy laughter tickled her lips. What a time to realize she was in love with the captain. His strength. His compassion. His honor. Even his sense of humor made her want to smile when she felt like doing anything but. She never thought she’d have a person in her life who she’d consider as her rock, her port in a storm, but Marco was all of those things and then some.
She held her breath and waited for the panic to seize her around the throat. To place one’s heart into the care and trust of another was frightening, which was why she had never done so before. Whether he knew it or not, Marco had the power to crush her, not just destroy her, but crush her. No, she’d never allow another the power to enact an all-out decimation of her soul, but he definitely held sway over her thoughts and actions. Dangerous, dangerous territory.
The car trundled over the roadway without a rumble. Marco’s thigh was warm and solid against her palm. The breath whooshed in and out of her lungs with ease and the panic never came. Despite the upheaval in her life caused by those photos, she felt at peace, secure, truly comfortable in her skin and with who she was for the first time in her life.
Marco flicked a glance in her direction and whatever he saw on her face made him do a double take. His posture relaxed and that adorable half-smile winked at her as he covered her hand with his.
It looked as if it took a great effort to tear his gaze away and focus back on the traffic. He cleared his throat and said, “So. Those were the parents.”
She closed her eyes. “Yes. That must have been awkward having to listen to…that. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I was so proud of you. Your mother is a trip. I was about ready to come in and lay down the law, but you did a much better job than I would’ve done. For the record, I think you’re great, just awesome and the best woman, person, on the planet.”
His stuttered statement made her smile and when she opened her eyes, she saw that his cheeks had turned a lovely shade of pink.
He caught her gaze and shrugged. “It’s true.”
“Thank you.” She leaned forward and kissed his jaw. “And thank you for leaving me to fight my own battles.”
“Let me tell you, it wasn’t easy holding back.” He made a right turn, then another, doubling back the way they came in what she suspected was an effort to spot anyone who might be tracking their whereabouts. “How are you feeling? Really? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I’m willing to listen.”
“The truth? Funny as it sounds, but I feel…” She sighed. “Free. I don’t have to pretend anymore. No more hiding. No more fake smiles or deflections. Did I want my secret life revealed this way? Of course not. But now I know. Now I know.”
Tears burned the back of her throat and his handsome face wavered in her vision as she continued, “It’s funny, but the world sends this message that family is everything. Blood is thicker than water. Above all else, your family will stick by you through joy and tragedy. Good and bad. But we’ve both have witnessed firsthand how that’s a crock of shit. We’ve seen what families do to each other, how they tear each other
apart under the fallacy that because they share DNA, common courtesy doesn’t apply. We’ve seen it. I’ve seen it, yet I still bought the lie. I still believed that no matter what, my mother was going to love me because I was her child. And she doesn’t. And that—that really sucks.” Her voice broke and she pressed her lips together.
With nowhere else to go, the pent-up anger over the betrayal seeped from her eyes in fat tears that trickled down her cheeks. She focused her gaze on the street sign ahead until it flew past in a blur then looked ahead to the next, and the next one after that, and the next one after that, refusing to allow the pain free rein, but helpless to stem the tide.
Marco picked up her hand to place a tender kiss on her knuckles and held on tight. The rest of the journey was made in silence as he guided them across town to an industrial area of the city.
The garment district was composed of strip malls and warehouses that catered to the art and design communities. Furniture stores, fabrics, textiles and more were located within blocks of each other for one-stop wholesale shopping.
The building Marco drove them to looked no different from the others on the street. Bulky, tan, devoid of any character and rather desolate in appearance. Even the signage was sad with the words New & Used Llantes—Cheap written on particleboard in white spray paint and resting against the side of the building.
“A tire shop?” she asked in surprise.
He smiled and withdrew his phone from his jacket. “We’re here,” he announced to whoever answered on the other end of the call.
Around the back were three oversized garage bay doors. One of the doors lifted as they approached and Jasmine quickly wiped at her wet cheeks with the sleeve of her jacket.
Lieutenant Coulter stepped from the shadows with a wave while Marco parked the car, then went to secure the door behind them.
“Hey.” Marco caught her around the wrist and leaned close until the tips of their noses touched. “When this is over, we’re going away. I don’t care where. I don’t care for how long. I just want to spend time with you in any way you’ll have me.”
Only at The Cavern Page 20
