Vow of Silence

by Roxy Harte

  My heart feels as though it dropped into my gut, leaving an empty void in my chest. “I guess I was hoping for the same thing, Lin, but maybe we were both wishing for the wrong things.”

  With a huff, Lin crosses her arms and throws herself backward. If looks could kill…

  “I can never tell my grandmother who I am dating now.”

  “I’ve been nothing but honest with you.”

  “I wanted to marry you. I wanted to have your children.”

  And I was beginning to trick myself into believing that was a possibility.

  “You should take me home.”

  Stony silence marks the ride to her loft, and she climbs out of the car without even a goodbye. I need to say something to stop this fight. I need to offer her reassurances that if we really love each other we can make our relationship work. So why am I sitting in the car being an inert moron?

  I did this. I sabotaged us.

  Lin enters her home without a backward glance, and I am left wondering if I just made the biggest mistake of my life.

  Chapter Ten

  George

  Bedlam is my refuge and salvation. Regardless of what the club is called, it draws me back again and again. It’s early and the crowd is just beginning to build. As soon as I enter I am bombarded by the raw sensual energy that has always made Lewd Larry’s the go-to place in town…except now it’s Bedlam. That’s what the glowing sign out front proclaims.

  Other changes are evident as well. The gilded cages have been replaced with acrylic boxes labeled ISOLATION and inside each the dancers are bound in straitjackets, which means they have to be more inventive with their dance routines. They are naked below the waist except for their stilettos and there is only enough room to squat and gyrate, making their pussies the real focal point. After several minutes I am bored and it occurs to me that their act needs to vary nightly. The straitjackets could be exchanged for hospital gowns, or something. I’ll suggest it to the entertainment director.

  Suddenly I see that one of the girls has discovered she can walk up the sides by pressing her back to one wall and her feet to the other. It is an erotic crawl up and back down. She manages to maintain a precariously balanced hover and shake her shoulders maniacally. I look into her face, realizing she’s looking straight at me. Is this little show for me, sweetheart? I meet her gaze and see a dark smudged trail of ruined mascara trailing over her cheeks. Drool runs out of the corners of her mouth. Suddenly she does a fairly entertaining twist of her head, bringing scenes from The Exorcist to mind. Interesting.

  I smile at her as the wheels in my mind start turning more quickly. My body responds to her carnal portrayal of clinically insane—a role she has down perfectly—and I decide the only conversation I need to have with the entertainment director is to tell him I want her to teach a workshop to the other dancers. I make a note to myself to schedule her for a private interview. I need to discover if she has any interest in privately entertaining some of our Members’ Only clients with slightly more macabre fetish interests which were previously unserviceable…meaning, under Garrett’s watch.

  I can clearly imagine very distinct possibilities.

  A server dressed in a revealing, tight, short white nurse’s uniform and white lace-edged thigh highs and spiked heels hurries by carrying a tray of plastic bags filled with cocktails. The IV-inspired drinks will hang behind the diner’s chair, and the long tubing will act as a straw. It’s a fantastic concept, but it has yet to be confirmed that the guests will enjoy it—or if it is even cost-effective. I hate thinking about the bottom line. I don’t know how Garrett handled it all on his own. Me? I’ll begin interviews for a business manager as soon as the dust settles from renovations.

  It is the end of an era. Out with the old, in with the new, and I’m the guy in charge. I miss Garrett. He was the mastermind who saw the need for a haven for sexual deviants to come together that not only adhered to safe, sane and consensual philosophy but led by example.

  I wonder what he would think of all the changes? Am I being completely arrogant in believing that the changes we’re making are improving the club? I mean, if Lewd Larry’s was hot and happening, Bedlam is inferno.

  He would probably nod in approval. And he would understand my chagrin.

  It’s hard to face change. He did so after his partner Tony’s murder…on my advice. It’s easier to face tomorrow if every corner doesn’t hold a ghost from the past. New beginnings inspire hope. I think that’s why I was so pleased when Lin called out of the blue. I was so dreading the changes I needed to make to the club I delayed beyond reason, and seeing her gave me something to look forward to and a way to avoid the change as it happened.

  I’ve never been the avoidance kind of guy and no one would ever make the mistake of calling me a procrastinator.

  Was Lin seriously only a distraction?

  Sure, I could analyze myself and come up with something regarding how Lin makes me feel like the man I was before Gigi’s charges, and Gigi reminds me of how my life came to be as it is now. But the honest truth is that seeing Gigi makes me realize my feelings for her when she was younger weren’t as philanthropic as I’d like to remember. I was in love with her. It hardly matters that I didn’t cross the sexual line as defined by the society I live in. I wanted to.

  I still want her.

  Can I face that it’s time to move on? Possibly with Lin?

  * * * * *

  “Are you all right?”

  I look up to see Joel and behind him two men-in-black, part of the fine security team that protects the patrons of Lewd Larry’s—Bedlam, now, I guess—from drunks, bullies and customers who forget the rules. They are here in case of trouble. I am disappointed and made even more desolate that he thinks it would only take two men to contain me. “I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure? Is there anything I can do? I can listen…” Joel sits at the table without an invite to do so and lifts the bottle of whiskey that was sitting in front of me. The liquid swishes, exposing that the bottle is half empty.

  “There isn’t much to say.”

  “Sure, George.”

  “You don’t have to sound so condescending.”

  Joel shrugs and pours himself a glass of the best whiskey money can buy. He throws back a shot and sighs loudly. “Damn fine product.”

  “You aren’t going away, are you?”

  “Nope.” He pours a second shot but leaves it sitting in front of him.

  “Are you on duty?”

  “Does it matter?” He lifts the shot and throws it back. He pushes the bottle closer to me.

  “You’ve made your point.”

  “Have I? Because I have all night and this is damn fine whiskey. And if you want the honest truth—”

  “I don’t.”

  “You kind of look like shit. Let’s go to my office and talk.”

  “How about we just leave me the fuck alone and let me enjoy my bottle of whiskey?”

  “At least tell me why we’re drinking.” Joel pours himself another shot.

  I don’t let Joel’s nonchalance fool me. He doesn’t have a kinky bone in his body, and he’s been married to the same woman for longer than he’s worked for us. He’s judgmental, homophobic and paraphobic…and still he works for us. Garrett originally hired him because he knew the place would be distracting and he wanted someone who could focus on the job at hand, keeping all the deviants safe. Seemed risky then. Still seems risky. But Joel does a good job as our director of security.

  I pour another shot and throw it back. “I think I’m in love.”

  Joel looks surprised. “Reeeally?”

  I nod, hoping I don’t look as dejected as I feel. “I’ve totally fucked up. Ruined everything. I keep thinking she’ll call but—”

  “You could call her.”

  “This one is her move. The problem is I don’t think she can accept me for who I am. She loves who I am here,” I thump my fist to my chest before waving my arms out to my sides to illustra
te, “but hates who I am here. You get that, right? You’re a straight-and-narrow kind of guy. You’d have a hard time falling in love with a woman in here.”

  “No offense, but I wouldn’t fall in love with a woman here.” He lifts his glass apologetically.

  “None taken.” I clink his glass with mine and then, waggling my eyebrows, tease, “But you never know what could happen if you let your guard down.”

  “Not a chance.”

  “So I’m doomed to fail with her.”

  Joel shrugs even though it wasn’t really a question.

  “It’s a bad dream, it’s all a bad dream. Garrett, Celia, Thomas. Gigi. I just need to wake up.”

  “Who’s Gigi?”

  “One of the two women I’m in love with. Haven’t you been paying attention? She’s in ICU, in critical condition. She could die without ever having known how I feel.”

  “You didn’t mention you were in love with two women, and I am sorry to hear that about Gigi. So the woman we were just talking about who is having a hard time accepting you as you are, she doesn’t mind that you are in love with her and someone else?”

  “Oh, she’d mind. She’s as vanilla as you are, and I’m a fool for ever believing we had a future together.”

  Joel makes a sympathetic sound but offers no advice. He pours us both another shot but I wave mine away. I’m done. “I need to get out of here. I should be at the hospital.”

  “Whoa, cowboy.” Joel stands and I am suddenly surrounded by the security team I pay to protect my staff and clients. “You aren’t driving anywhere until you are one-hundred-percent sober. Let’s get you to the office so you can sleep it off.”

  * * * * *

  By the time I’m ready to leave Bedlam dawn is breaking and I’m exhausted. I remember I dropped my tux at the cleaners for the museum event and that I should probably pick it up, except there’s no real rush if I’m no longer accompanying Lin. Not that I don’t want to escort her. The question is does she want me to?

  I want to see her.

  Desperately.

  As I do a final check of the club, I dial her number without too much thought as to what I’m going to say and when her answering machine picks up I am unprepared to leave a message. I hang up.

  One of my Dominants approaches. “There you are. Aida was looking for you.”

  Aida? I have to think for a minute before I remember she is the new day-shift receptionist. My cell vibrates and the caller ID identifies the number as coming from the club. I don’t answer the call. “Looks like she found me. Any idea what she wants?”

  “You have a visitor waiting in your office.”

  * * * * *

  Seeing Lin, happiness swells in my chest and I am tempted to race across the room and pull her into my arms. I would promise her anything…

  Except years of practicing self-control keep my feet in place. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  She faces a wall covered with years of past event posters—Auctions, Spanksgiving, All Hallow’s Evil. They are bright, graphic, erotically captivating. She doesn’t look away from the art when she asks, “What happens at an auction?”

  I didn’t expect that. Curiosity instead of anger?

  “Umm—” I approach her slowly. “Each spring we have an event for charity.”

  “I can figure that out from the advertisement and I don’t live in a cave. I know the event happens in the spring. Is it true people auction themselves as sex slaves?”

  “Yes.”

  She pivots and I see the flash of anger in her eyes before she shutters it away. “Strangers? Buy each other? They live as slaves?”

  I nod. “Usually for thirty days.”

  “You’re serious?”

  I chuckle.

  “You’re insane.”

  I edge as close to her as I can but don’t touch her.

  “To you insane, to me a normal day on the job. Our lives are polar opposites. You live by society’s sexual norm. Missionary position, lights out. You will never be able to understand unless you’re willing to venture into my world—as a participant, not a tourist.”

  She shakes her head and crosses her arms. “I don’t believe you.”

  I’m confused. “You don’t believe me? I’m professionally trained in how the psyche facilitates, and you can’t possibly understand until you experience—”

  “The auction, George.” She finally looks at me and I’m glad, except for the fact that her countenance resonates with pure irritation. “Why would anyone do that? Why would anyone go with a stranger? A sadist? Do you know how dangerous that is?”

  “You’re telling me that? Gigi is at the hospital—where she’s going to be a long time in recovery and is extremely lucky to be alive—because she sought out a stranger. Think about that. Think about all the unknowns. Will he be gentle or cruel? Will he smell good? Taste good? Or will he—”

  “Stop. I don’t want to hear this.”

  She starts to back away but I grab her elbow and pull her closer. She’s trembling and it’s very telling that she is so emotionally disturbed by the idea of auction.

  “This is precious to me.” Stroking her cheek, I catch a tear and hold it up for her to see. “This pain that you offer me so freely. You’re confused. You’re tied up in knots. There is an emotional cyclone ripping you to bits from the inside out because you want what you know I can give you.”

  She squares her chin with denial.

  “You want to share my kinky lifestyle with me but you’re afraid to admit it. Spring isn’t so far away. Perhaps you want me to force you into an auction?” I pull my cellphone from my pocket and load a video. I turn the screen to face her so that she can see the recording of the night Garrett bought Celia. She could push it away, refuse to watch, but she doesn’t.

  “It’s so loud. The clapping, the screaming,” she says.

  “The audio will quiet soon.” I don’t turn down the volume. “The audience was insane that night. I think they knew something special was about to happen.”

  I watch her reactions. Her wide eyes. She covers her mouth when Celia’s dress is torn off and she is forced to walk the stage mostly nude.

  “This is the night Celia met Garrett.”

  She doesn’t take her eyes from the screen. “My God.”

  “Garrett paid a quarter of a million dollars for the honor of becoming Celia’s Master.”

  “What would a man expect to get for that much money?”

  “Complete submission.”

  “A woman who obeys without thought, suffers abuse without complaint.”

  “It isn’t abuse. Not what we do. Participants adhere to a strict code of ethics that includes being safe, sane and consensual.”

  “Gigi consented to having her larynx crushed? Because the man who harmed her clearly wasn’t behaving safely.”

  My shoulders slump, not because I’m defeated but I’m so damn tired. Lin sees herself in competition with Gigi, and nothing I say or do can change that. Our conversation hasn’t been about Lin lightening up and giving the lifestyle a try, it’s still about trying to get me to give it up. “I’m not so certain he was from the BDSM community. Sure, I thought so at first. It seemed fairly obvious, but more and more it just doesn’t feel right. I would more likely believe a serial killer that exploits the needs and desires of masochists.”

  “A serial killer? Gigi didn’t die.”

  “She’s very lucky she didn’t.”

  “So you keep saying.”

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  She doesn’t and that’s a real problem. “Last night you were angry because I forced you to see that Doctor Psycho isn’t going anywhere. Why did you come here?”

  “I know I will not find peace as long as I hold on to indignation. I haven’t been fair to you. I haven’t explained why I know I can never be a part of this lifestyle.”

  “What scares you most?”

  “It reminds me of my wedding nig
ht, but my marriage, my servitude, wasn’t for thirty days—thirty days would have been easy.”

  Her admission makes most of the puzzle fall into place, especially why she insists so adamantly that she is not kinky. “Did he abuse you?”

  “He hated me—everything about me. He hated that he’d been forced to marry me. But he had sex with me anyway. Always when he wanted. Always the way he wanted. I had no say. That’s why I don’t understand why any woman would willingly go into that situation.”

  “I understand now. I’m sorry you had that experience.” I pull her into my arms and stroke her hair. “I want you to do something for me.”

  She nods her face against my chest.

  “Kneel.”

  Lin pulls away from me quickly and backs across the room. She is breathing so hard her chest is heaving. “You said you understand why I can’t be kinky.”

  “I understand that you had a horrible experience. One in which you had no power. I’m trying to give you your power back.”

  “By demanding I offer you obedience?” I watch her face crumble, and it is a beautiful sight. Tears follow but I don’t comfort her.

  “By asking you to willingly kneel so that I can demonstrate the difference. You were forced into a situation of cruelty. I’m offering you a chance to experience the joy of complete love and trust.” I pull her into my arms. “Do you still want me to escort you to the museum?”

  I look down into her face and there is such utter vulnerability in her eyes. I think she will start to weep again when she answers, “Yes”

  “Do you still want to be my lover?”

  “Here? Now?”

  “Why not?”

  “We’re in your office, but I suppose that sounds like a ridiculous excuse. God. How many women have you had sex with in this very room? Our worlds are so different. Are we only delaying the inevitable? I’m so confused! I’m a good girl, George. I want to be a good girl.”

  She kisses me gently on the lips, and I can imagine it being our goodbye kiss. It feels like goodbye. I don’t want this to be the end. I want her to tell me that she can love me the way I am. With my heart breaking, I kiss her back. “I really want to show you how it could be, Lin. Let me make love to you. Here. Now. In my domain.”