by Maren Smith
Jenna had met her at the door with a hug and then the two women had come in together. "Alex, please," Jenna whispered.
"You're sick again, Charlie." His face wasn't angry, but sad.
"No, I'm fine. I saw a doctor and I'm taking some vitamins," she lied. Alex turned around, stalked out the back door and went out to the garage. Charlie turned to Jenna and said, "See, that's why I didn't want to come. He can't just accept me for who I am. He always wants to change me. Correct me."
"He just worries, Charlie." Jenna went back to ripping up the romaine for the salad at the kitchen counter. "He'll come back in. But anyway, how are you? You like your new place? Getting comfortable and all?"
"Yeah, yeah… It's nice being so close to work. I'm sure Brinks misses the back yard, but then again I feel so guilty now that I'm taking him for more walks." She felt really out of place. Maybe she should've stayed away.
"Do you want to grab the hot pads and put the lasagna on the table?" Jenna was still tossing the salad vegetables together, so she motioned Charlie with her chin.
Charlie was more than happy to have a job to occupy her. "Ohmigosh. This smells like heaven." Her stomach rumbled and her mouth watered. Lasagna was not something she would normally eat; it was so heavy, but she was like seriously salivating. What had she eaten that morning? Had she eaten? She couldn't remember.
"I have some rolls warming in the oven, too," Jenna called over her shoulder. She was bent over in the refrigerator now, looking for something. "I don't think I'm going to put the dressing on the salad so it will stay fresh. I want to eat it again tomorrow." She put a couple bottles on the counter. "If you want to finish the last couple things, I'll go get the beast."
Alex was quiet at the table. The women talked about the baby and Alex joined when necessary, but it was a little awkward and uncomfortable. Charlie really wished she hadn't come. Perhaps things would never be normal between them again.
As soon as Alex finished, he pushed his plate forward and set his hand on top of Charlie's. "You went to the doctor, Charlie? Did he say anything?" His voice was low and modulated, but it still made her blood boil.
"I'm not sick. I'm anemic. I've always been. I haven't been sleeping; I've had cramps in my legs and I got some vitamins. That's it. Okay?" She pulled her hand back and crossed her arms. It didn't even occur to her that she looked like a petulant child.
"That is one of the symptoms that you haven't been eating right. Did you talk to the doctor about your history?" He seemed to have forgotten that she didn't have to answer to him anymore. His voice had adopted that stern, lecturing tone he used on her when she was in trouble and she was not going to accept it.
"I didn't come here for this." Charlie shoved away from the table. She glanced at Jenna. "If you want to visit me it will have to be somewhere he isn't. I'm going home." She stood up and started to leave.
"That's why you sold the house, isn't it? So you could run away and hide all the things you want to hide from those of us who love you. Go on, run away again, sit there by yourself all the time, so you don't have to deal with any consequences. Selfish." He shook his head.
She spun around when he started talking but stood there with her mouth hanging open when she could think of no reply. Finally, after a painful silence, she found her tongue again. "They should have given you the house. Then I could have just left. I didn't want the burden… but I was stuck there. Most people dream of turning eighteen and getting away. When I turned eighteen my father was dying. When I turned twenty, my mom died. Then I had to deal with you and I was stuck with that stupid house—I loved that house…." She broke down. A cry tore from her throat before she could make it outside.
As soon as she started to lose it, she turned and ran for the door, shoved her feet into her boots and grabbed the doorknob without looking for her coat. She heard the scraping of their chairs and before she got out the door Alex caught her and Jenna was right there, too.
She was enveloped in her brother's strong arms and hugged against his chest.
* * * * *
It had been a long night and a long time in coming. Everything wasn't perfect between them, nor was it ever likely to be, but she and Alex had talked and she felt like they were in a better place. She'd cried all the way through defending her right to sell the house and her reasons behind it, but she'd gotten it out. She perhaps even convinced him she was happy with her new independent self. She was free to come and go as she pleased after all—she had no one to answer to, and no one to come home to…
She pressed her soft suede gloved finger to her cheek again to brush away the tears. They wouldn't stop. She might have convinced Alex and Jenna that she was happy, but she couldn't seem to convince her heart. She made an abrupt left hand turn and then looked quickly into her mirror and over her shoulder. Crap! She had not used her signal again. Was Vin somewhere nearby, ready to stop her once more?
She relaxed back against her seat and resolved to be more careful. She hadn't planned to turn there, but she wanted to look at her house—no, not her house—the house—one more time.
The street was dark; it was after ten. It would probably be strange if she just parked in front of someone else's house for no reason, but she couldn't make herself drive past. She pulled to the curb and parked. It was dark; perhaps they hadn't moved in yet? The sale had just been finalized the past week.
She told herself it had been a good thing and she should be relieved; she didn't have the burden anymore. She wasn't under Alex's thumb anymore, but her heart cried out for her to go inside and curl up on the old orange sofa and stay there until things got back to normal. She reached for a tissue and brought it to her nose. She'd been so stupid, leaving the sofa behind. Or maybe she was being stupid now?
Her watery eyes scanned the bare bushes separating the neighbors' drive from theirs. And the blue city recycling bins at the curb. Tuesday night. A memory formed slowly in her scattered mind. She couldn't remember where they had been coming from, but her mom had been very angry with her dad. The silence had been unbearable in the car all the way home. Charlie had never been so glad to pull into the driveway. It had been dark that night, too. Most of the snow had melted and it was just as dreary, with no signs of spring. There was a frozen island of ice maybe, on the low side of the driveway, and perhaps an icicle hanging from the eve.
She'd darted to the house as soon as the car stopped and Charlie remembered her dad saying something to her mom about dragging it out maybe. He'd come into the house after Charlie, but her mother had stayed in the car for a little while by herself. After some time her dad had gone out there again, and when her mom had come in she'd stomped all the way to their room.
Charlie was so deep in her thoughts, trying to remember what had happened after that, she didn't realize the car coming toward her had pulled up right next to her window. Crap! Not him again…
Vin was there in his big State Police SUV, rolling his window down. She dutifully did the same, but her tongue got the better of her. "Really, officer? You just happened to be in the neighborhood, again?"
His mouth drew back to the left side, almost humorously. "As it happens, yes, I was just coming home. I'm surprised you are in the neighborhood. Did you want to visit? Are you okay?"
Before she could respond, he pulled into the end of the driveway in front of her, her house, and shut the engine off—and got out and came back to her. Had she been smart she would have driven away, but she was not thinking clearly. Didn't he know the house had sold, there could be people in there and they would probably get upset that they were in front of their house about to have a confrontation? Or did he think he was something special because of his stupid uniform?
Instinct said to drive away as he stalked over to her side. Tango sniffed her car out as if she might be harboring illegal substances. "You don't look very good, Charlie. Come inside; I'll make some coffee. I think I can find—" Vin's voice was not what she expected, warm and caring, not bitter or commanding—and had he sa
id inside?
"Inside? You bought my house?" She stared at him blankly.
"Yes. How could you not know that?"
"How could you buy my house?" Her question was a mixture of anguish and outrage. "What? You couldn't have me so you bought my house! Is that your way of getting back at me? You—why you?" Her mouth hung open, and tears overcame her.
"Charlie—" Vin said as he pulled her door open and reached in to unbuckle her, "—come here. It wasn't like that at all." She started to protest and fight him, but he easily pulled her from the small car and then closed the door. He pressed her back against the side of the car and used his much larger warm body to hold her hostage. His hands framed her face; his thumbs brushed her tears away. "I didn't do it because I wanted to hurt you. I wanted your house because it was a part of you. We never got to finish what we started. I hoped that by buying it, I'd get to see you again. That you'd be forced to talk to me, to give me another chance."
"How is that working for you?" She wiggled between him and the car to cross her arms over her small chest. Her coat was warm and thick, but her nipples still peaked as if neither were the case.
"And I was afraid you might regret selling it." He pressed a feather-soft kiss against her temple and then stared into her eyes.
"I don't understand." She shook her head. Everything in her said to stay angry and fight, but his whisper soft voice melted her reserve. Her hands wanted to play on his chest, wanted to wander into the warmth under his coat, under his shirt. His spicy masculine scent had been haunting her for days and now it wasn't just a fantasy. Why did she fight him?
"Come inside. I want to sit down and talk about what happened. Come on." His hand ran down her arm to her side and then to her back. When the cold night air separated them and he started to lead her away from her car, she remembered that she didn't want to talk to him. She didn't want to try to figure it out. Did she? No, she needed more time to muddle through her thoughts on her own.
"No, stop. I have to go. I have to work…" Charlie withdrew, fumbling for anything that sounded like a valid reason. Vin stopped there in the road, under the streetlight, the cold night air making their breath appear to float like a layer of fog between them before vanishing again.
"I know it's late—but you can't keep running. I don't just mean from me, but from yourself. You're not happy, it's clear. I want to fix this, to help you—" He took both of her hands in his, and if she thought that he was an overbearing jerk before, he was proving he was sweet and patient tonight. But she needed to think.
"Not tonight. I have to… I have to…" She looked down at Tango still attentively sitting at his partner's side; she couldn't look into Vin's hypnotic dark eyes any longer. "Time, I need some more time, please."
He cupped her chin and pulled her face around until they were eye to eye again. "I'm going to give you that. But your time has just about run out, little girl. You have a natural inclination to need a caretaker and I have a very strong desire to take care of you. I've been patient just about long enough. I want a relationship with you. A very real one. You go now and think really hard about that because very soon we are going to talk; I'm tired of waiting." He stepped back and opened her car door.
She didn't know what to say. He hadn't asked a question and so didn't require an answer. She stepped away and sat down in her car.
It probably wasn't safe for her to drive. If he'd followed her home he most likely would have given Charlie her third ticket or maybe her second spanking. She was just lost. Where had she been? How had she not known it had been him? Why hadn't Alex and Jenna told her he was buying her house? She pounded on the steering wheel. For that matter, why hadn't her best friend, her real estate agent? Didn't anyone think she would be upset by that news?
She fumbled around in the dark, one hand on the wheel, the other searching in her purse for her phone. It wasn't too late to call Miranda. Oops! She swung her little car back into her lane, thankful there hadn't been another car coming at her. But she found her phone and promptly dialed her friend.
"I was just thinking of calling you! I have the best idea ev—" Miranda was famous for answering the phone with her own business, but Charlie was too anxious to wait for her to realize that she had called her for a reason.
"Miranda—" Charlie paused, but only long enough for her friend to stop talking, "—why in the hell did you sell my house to him? Or why didn't you tell me? Were you in on this the whole time?" She'd pulled into her parking space finally, but it took too much mental effort to have the conversation and get out of the car at the same time, so she just sat there.
"What? Who—girl, I'm not sure what you are talking about. You know the guy who bought your house? Charlie, you have to slow down and tell me what is going on."
"It's him, Miranda! The worst-lie-ever cop… You know…" She sighed. She didn't want to talk any more. She knew her friend wouldn't lie to her, and she'd sounded confused. "I don't know what is going on."
"He bought your house? Is he a weirdo? No, he didn't seem like a psycho. I actually liked him and if I wasn't pretty hot about the architect, I would have gone for him. He's sexy as sin. You should rethink all that spanking nonsense. I'd let him spank me."
Charlie laid her arm across the steering wheel and rested her head against it. "I don't know what to do. I'm so confused. Nothing ever goes the way I think it will."
"You want me to bring my ice cream over there?"
"No. I'm going straight to bed. If I never get up it will be too soon." She finally reached for her car door. She had shut her car off when she'd parked and now it had gotten a little chilly.
"I could stop at the store and grab a bottle of wine."
Brinks was excited to see her at least. She picked him up and juggled between holding the wiggling terrier, closing the door, balancing the phone to her ear and slipping off her thick wool coat. "No, I really just want to go to bed. I have to work in the morning. I'll catch you up when I get all this figured out myself. Maybe we can go to that club you like Friday night."
Chapter Ten
Yes, she'd lied about having to work the next day, but she had wanted to go to bed. Unfortunately, sleep had been a long time in coming. And when she did finally drift off, it was not good sleep, but restless tossing and turning. She dreamed of a monastery-like apartment complex that was bright white and had endless halls and rooms. It was cold and there was no one else there. She wandered and wandered looking about, but all she found were rooms full of hard plastic square-shaped furniture. She couldn't get comfortable and she couldn't find help. Where was everyone? Was she alone? Her legs hurt from walking so much, but she had to keep going; she had to find someone.
It was the pain that had finally awakened her. That or Brinks whining. She reached for her cell phone on the bedside table. "Brinks, it's only five-thirty. I just finally fell asleep around two." She bent down to rub her calves. Gosh, they hurt so much. Her little dog licked her chin and whined again. Charlie got up long enough to eat a banana and find some ibuprofen.
Then it had taken her until around seven to fall asleep again. She'd thought a lot about Vin, and her house—and that strange dream, and even Alex. Her life had been such a mess lately. How had it gotten so out of control? She couldn't remember the last time she had been truly happy. Well, she was happy when she was at work. She was mostly happy when she hung out with Alex and Jenna, when she wasn't in trouble. She'd been happy with Vin, playing with their dogs; watching her tiny Brinks with his giant dogs' toys had been hilarious.
Maybe it was the spanking she needed to think harder about. Alex said it was what she had a problem with and needed to get over it. She only got in trouble when she was wrong, when she'd done something dangerous, or something she'd agreed not to do before. So if she was mad at anyone she should be angry with herself. And then each spanking should allow her to forgive herself and go on.
Jenna had said she found freedom in domestic discipline. If she knew she'd done something wrong, she couldn
't forgive herself until she was punished, until she knew Alex forgave her. But, Charlie hated it, hated being spanked.
Alex had snorted. But then Jenna had calmly told her there were a lot of women who enjoyed it, really enjoyed it and wanted it. Actually, she said it turned them on and made them want sex or like sex more. Jenna had gotten a little red in the face but Charlie didn't even want to think about her brother getting kinky. That had been the way Miranda had talked about spanking.
But Alex said there could be different ways, too, but primarily it was better if Charlie didn't enjoy it because it was meant as a punishment. He'd gone on to say something he always said: "It's very simple. You control all of the spanking action. If you don't want to be spanked, don't do any of the things you know will earn a spanking. You've agreed on it. If you want to prove you can act like a responsible woman without the spankings, just do it. Then I won't have to spank you."
But Jenna said there were two kinds of spankings, fun, sexy ones and punishment ones. And she said even though she hated to earn a punishment spanking, it excited her to know Alex wouldn't let her get away with anything. She said she loved the dynamic.
Miranda had said the same things before, but Charlie never listened to her because she didn't know what it was like to live with men who really spanked. All she knew was what she fantasized about. Pshaw. A man who would take her in hand… Keep her in line…. Not let her get away with anything. Yeah, Charlie knew the type, but she could only imagine the scene.
Charlie pictured Vin kicked back on her sofa, his chest bare but his jeans still in place. His bulging shaft would be obvious with him leaning back. She'd be standing in front of him shyly looking at the floor and waiting.
"Your clothes, Charlie." His voice would be low and stern, and she would know this was for fun, but also that Vin took everything seriously—even playtime. "Don't make me start counting, little girl, or I will add it to the end."
