Torn: A Dark BDSM Romance Novel (Shattered Lives Book 1)

by Lexie Syrah

  Then I remembered that Mr. Sheffield might have texted me back while I was napping, and I rushed to the kitchen to check my phone once again. Depressingly, there was still no response. A moment of worry crossed my mind. He should be awake by now, and my text wasn’t angry. His letter hadn’t been angry. Why wasn’t he answering? He might have gotten into an accident. Fear and worry for Mr. Sheffield’s safety replaced the relaxed feeling that I’d had when I’d initially woken up.

  Mr. Sheffield, even if you’re still mad at me, can you please just let me know that you’re okay? Please text me that you’re safe. I’m worried.

  It wasn’t an unreasonable request regardless of how upset he was. I set the phone down, fully expecting him to reply soon enough, but not wanting to give him the thought that I was waiting by the phone for him to call. The shower was calling, and I felt filthy.

  When the hot water came down over my tired body, I couldn’t help but feel refreshed. Showers had meant so much to me after my time without them. They were my personal symbol of new possibilities. When you got under that steaming hot water, it was as though the past was cleansed from you along with yesterday’s dirt and grime. I hadn’t been able to shower while I’d been homeless, and it had felt like I’d been stuck in the same unending day. Now I had the chance to make a change, the chance to become just a little bit new and different with every shower. This moment was the start of my day, the start of a new me who would not be angry with Mr. Sheffield for last night.

  When I got out and dried off, I checked my phone. Still no answer. My fear for Mr. Sheffield’s safety had become tangible, and I almost began calling hospitals to see if he had been admitted. No, I told myself, if he’s not home by the time dinner’s ready, I’ll call. He’s never been late to dinner. My mind was made up and I began cooking.

  Fettuccini alfredo, asparagus, and a chicken breast was tonight’s menu. It was one of my favorites, and I enjoyed the process of making it. The constant attention to the sauce while I slowly cooked the chicken on the griddle next to me forced me to concentrate on what I was doing. The steaming asparagus always reminded me of my first night here and my first spanking from Mr. Sheffield. They were tender memories in my mind, much more dear to my heart than anything from my childhood.

  While the dinner cooked, I thought about everything that our relationship meant to me. He’d saved me and I would be forever grateful to him, but now, I’d saved up enough money to be able to survive without him. I was only staying because of Mr. Sheffield. I was staying because of how I felt about him. I was staying because he was the man that meant everything to me.

  I’d enjoyed nearly everything about my life since I’d walked through that door with a naked woman in the glass. But that’s what this home had meant to me. It was a place of nakedness. Rawness and purity were what both of us had fed on. Sex was filled with unadulterated passion. Our conversations had been completely truthful and open. My service and his direction had been strict but fair. Everything was naked here, and that’s why I hadn’t had any fear.

  Nothing had been hidden, but last night had started as surprises and had ended in uncertainty. Hell, the club itself was built on shadows. And now our relationship was crumbling, not because we’d fucked other people, but because Mr. Sheffield wasn’t being raw and pure anymore. He was hiding. Hiding his intentions. Hiding his emotions. Hiding his very person. It all reeked of Elysium, and I knew that the reason behind my frustration had less to do with sex and everything to do with that place.

  The kitchen was very warm by the time that dinner was ready, and small beads of sweat had begun to appear on my forehead. I looked back at the phone and saw that there still was no answer. That fucking man. I’d spent all day worrying about him and how our relationship would be after last night. He had better be in a hospital. I had stopped being scared at this point. The simmering pot of rage inside of me was about to boil over.

  “One last chance,” I mumbled to myself as I pulled the food off the heat and covered it. I picked up the phone and dialed Mr. Sheffield’s number. Straight to voicemail. For a moment, I started to hang up, but then as I heard the beep, the anger inside of me boiled out and I didn’t hold back.

  Mr. Sheffield, I’ve texted you twice today. I wasn’t upset. I wasn’t angry. I didn’t yell and scream at you for taking me to your stupid sex club. I didn’t berate you for all of the shitty situations I was put in last night. I didn’t say a damn thing! All I’ve done is try to go back to the way things were before last night!

  Why didn’t you deal with the situation like a man instead of running away like a little boy? I stayed. I was here. All fucking day! Constantly worried about how you would react. And now you’re putting me through the punishment of worrying about whether you’re safe! Dinner’s ready, but where are you? You’ve never been late for dinner. Why won’t you just come home?

  I haven’t done anything wrong. Absolutely nothing. I’ve been the perfect girl for you. I’ve done everything and anything to make you happy since the day I walked through your door, and if you are mad at anyone, it should be at yourself! You’re the one who’s trying to turn me into a fucking slave. I don’t know if you want me to change or you just want Elaine back. I don’t really care. I’ll never be a slave to you, and if you’re just pining over Elaine, then you should take her back and let me go. I’ve done everything I could to be perfect for you, and now it seems that it’s not enough.

  I’m not going to be punished by you for doing what you wanted. You told me to fuck another man if I wanted. You were the one who wanted to go to the club. You’re the one who invited Elaine to come to the table. I was every-fucking-thing you wanted. I’ve been submissive when you wanted and dominant when you needed it. I will not be punished when I haven’t done anything wrong. I’m about to call all of the hospitals in the area, and if you’re not in one, I’m fucking leaving!

  I’ve spent the last months becoming more and more perfect for you because I loved you. I spent every moment of every day hoping that I could be better than I was the day before. I found your love of giving pain, and I became a painslut for you. You beat my body for pleasure instead of punishment now. I have given you everything that I have to give, and yet you continue to ask for more. I thought that I had completely fulfilled your desires. Until last night. And now, I’m left wondering why I even try.

  You’ve broken my heart. I know that I didn’t ask for a relationship because you didn’t seem to want one. You wanted a woman who would take care of you, who would allow herself to be everything you could ever want. And I was grateful that you took me off of the street and allowed me to learn instead of expecting me to already know everything. So I became that perfect woman for you. I accepted that you would eventually fuck other women. I accepted that you would have desires that I could never come to enjoy. But I would have taken care of those desires.

  And now I’m left wondering why I’ve cared for you so much when you care so little for me. Not once have you ever brought up a desire to take me as your girlfriend, fiancé, or wife. In fact, I’m sure that you’ve thought about it and decided against it because it would ruin your ability to fuck other women. I have done everything I could to become the only woman you would need, and yet you still need others. I’m done. With it all. I’ll be packing up my things and leaving tonight. If I can fuck other people for you, I can fuck other people for myself, and I’m sure that I’ll make a very decent living doing it.

  With that, I hit the end call button, and the front door opened. “Maggie? Are you still here?” The door slammed behind him, and I couldn’t believe how badly I’d messed up.

  “I’m in the kitchen,” I called out softly. He walked in and set his jacket down on the back of a barstool. Immediately, he walked up to me and kissed me passionately. I couldn’t seem to return the emotion, though. I wasn’t angry anymore. Only embarrassed and scared. But that fear pulled me away from him.

  “Maggie, I’m so sorry about everything. I tried to call you whe
n I woke up at noon today, but my phone was dead. I had left the note and money, so I didn’t feel like I should walk in on you if you were trying to leave. I just sat and thought about everything from last night. I’m so sorry I even brought you to Elysium. It can be fun, but it’s not a place that should be a surprise. And I shouldn’t have been angry with you at all last night. I was completely out of line. You were right. Please, let’s just put last night behind us and go back to the way things used to be.”

  I was speechless at the way that he was acting. I’d just left a horrible message on his phone, and he was owning up to everything, saying it was all his fault. I tried to respond, but I could barely manage a coherent thought. “Yes sir. I don’t think we should bring it up anymore.”

  A part of me wanted to tell him that I left an angry message, but the rest of me was terrified that he’d become furious again.

  “I’m going to take a quick shower and then we can eat dinner, okay? The food smells great!”

  “Okay, Mr. Sheffield.” This was my opportunity to fix it all. I waited until I heard him go into his bathroom, and then I snuck into his bedroom. When I reached into his pocket to get his phone, his keys fell to the ground and his bathroom door opened up.

  “What are you doing, Maggie?” He wasn’t accusing or angry, simply curious. I’d never gone through his pants pockets before.

  “Oh, I was going to charge your phone.” He stepped back into his room, and said, “Is that really what you were doing?” His voice wasn’t cheerful anymore.

  “I’m sorry. I left you an angry voicemail and wanted to delete it before you heard it because I didn’t mean any of it. I’m just really emotional.” He sat down on the bed, wearing only his boxers.

  “You shouldn’t be sneaking around. I will not put up with you going through my things without my permission especially when you’re doing something that you know I wouldn’t appreciate.”

  He thought for a moment before continuing, “You need a spanking, Maggie. I normally wouldn’t punish you today, but this is an attack on our relationship, and that can’t go unpunished.”

  I almost threw a fit, but calmed myself. Maybe a spanking would remind me of other times. Times that I wasn’t scared of making him mad. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time I was frustrated at being punished. By the end of my punishments, I always felt clean again, and that was how I needed to feel now. Clean, unfettered, and resolved in my desire for the man that sat before me.

  “Yes, sir.” I said before I removed my clothes and bent over his legs. My flesh was his to take, and as I laid over his lap, I felt the same overwhelming smallness, protection, and love that I had so many times before. He was the strong man that I wanted to hold me forever. The pain would not bother me, not this time.

  His hand came down on my bare ass, and the familiar sounds filled the room. I embraced the pain, let it flow through me, and was cleansed of emotion. For me, some types of pain could be a way to clear my mind, a focal point for me to center myself on. The thorns that life throws into my path are forced from within me, leaving my wounds cleansed and unable to fester.

  I wasn’t aroused. I wasn’t desperate for anything. I was purified in this moment. Finally unburdened of the doubt that had haunted me through the day. The pain had forced those thoughts from me, and if left unaided, those thoughts would dissolve into the nothingness from which they’d come from.

  After the ten swats to my bare ass, Mr. Sheffield helped me to my feet, and I gazed lovingly into his eyes. He had felt the same emotions that I had; I could see the peace that resided in his mind. I smiled at him and sat on the bed beside him. Silence filled the room that had only seconds ago been filled with resounding strikes of flesh on flesh.

  For a second, I saw the hesitation in Mr. Sheffield’s eyes. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to listen to that voicemail. He knew the tenuous peace that the spanking had brought to our relationship. If nothing upset either of us further, we would go back to the way that things had been only days before.

  Curiosity. That would be our downfall. Just as Pandora’s curious nature had given us grief and pain, Mr. Sheffield’s nature would give those thorns that hovered just inches from our flesh the necessary force to embed themselves further into us. Today, they had irritated us, bringing us pain. They had been the gateway pain that would have pushed us into heartache, but at this singular moment, they had been purged from our souls.

  Mr. Sheffield picked up the phone that I had tried to steal from him. He plugged it in and we waited patiently for its battery to charge. I wanted to run, to hide from the inevitable fury that he would rain down on me for my anger. He had been foolish to leave. He had been foolish to bring me to Elysium. He had been even more foolish to have ever become angry at me. But he had never spoken a harsh word towards me. He had left to make sure that he never did. He had done whatever it took to keep those thorns from ever become anything more than irritation.

  I had crossed that boundary. I had spoken words that would pain him. I had let fear and anger transform from harmless swirling emotions into harsh and pain-giving words. It was I that had used a knife to heal a scratch.

  The battery was charged, and Mr. Sheffield put the voicemail on speaker. He took a deep breath and calmed himself as best he could before he hit play. I knew that he understood that whatever was on the message would be painful and harsh, but he had no idea of the accusations that I had sent him.

  As the message began to play, I heard the words and tears fell from my cheeks. I knew that they had been true emotions. I had been wrong about it all. I had let the shadows of fear and doubt consume me. Fear had turned to anger, and that anger had become hate. Even at the time, I’d known that many of the things I said were not completely true. But I had said them regardless for the sole purpose of hurting the man that I loved.

  Mr. Sheffield’s eyes turned hard… icy… cruel. I saw the side of him that he’d shown me last night during our drive home. Unlike last night, I hoped that he would beat me. I hoped that he would turn that rage outward instead of inward. I sincerely hoped that he would throw things, that he would hurt me. I deserved to be punished for the words that I’d said. I deserved everything that his rage would bring to my willing body.

  I have done everything I could to become the only woman you would need, and yet you still need others. I’m done. With it all. I’ll be packing up my things and leaving tonight. If I can fuck other people for you, I can fuck other people for myself, and I’m sure that I’ll make a very decent living doing it.

  The words hung in the air as he stared at me. Words. Just words. But I’d rather that I’d cut him across the chest with a knife, gleaming and sharp. It would have hurt him less. The scar would have been a mark on his body, but his heart would have been saved. I had become no different than his ex-wife. He’d trusted me with his heart, and I’d crushed it.

  He stood up and put a clean pair of pants and shirt on. He slipped socks on and slid his feet into dress shoes. As I watched him, I couldn’t do anything but sit and cry. As he slipped his suit jacket on over the shirt, I reached my hand out to him, and he stared at it for only a moment. Then, with a flourish, he turned on his heel and walked out of the room. For only a second, I was paralyzed, and then the thorns found their way into me once more.

  He was leaving. He wasn’t confronting me. He was turning his back to me once again, and even though that had been the cause of all of my anger today, he was ignoring it once more. He was a child. A fiercely angry child who did not wish to deal with the only person in the world that had loved him for who he was without any reservations.

  I stood up as fury filled my body. He was leaving. Again. Looking back, I can feel the poison of the thorns filling my body. If I had known what would happen, I would have kissed him and told him all of the thoughts that had flowed through me while the message played. I didn’t know at the time, and I had no idea how the cards would fall when I embraced this pain. It was not a purifying pain. It was a focal point,
but it was the worst kind.

  It led into the abyss. The place where all pain resides. By embracing the emotional pain that filled my mind, I welcomed further pain. I ran naked to the man who had been my savior and screamed at him, “Where the fuck are you going! Stop being a fucking child and talk to me!”

  He stopped in his path, his hand holding the doorknob. A glimmer of a thought flashed across his eyes. For less than half a second, he actually listened to my words. Then the thorns that filled his own heart forced their poison through his mind as well.

  We were both on the precipice looking over the abyss. Our backs away from each other and feeling utterly alone. If we only turned to look for the other, we would have seen that we weren’t alone at all. Yes, the thorns would hurt to pull out, but we could heal from this. We could go back to the place that we’d been in before all of the pain had filled our hearts.

  Instead, he welcomed the abyss and jumped, his arms out in an open embrace. In a crystal clear voice, he said, “Fuck you, Maggie. If you want to leave, just leave. I’m not stopping you.”

  The door opened, and I said softly, “Where are you going, Mr. Sheffield.” My eyes had grown just as cold and icy as his. I was prepared for a war of rage. I could cause just as much pain as he could. But I had not been prepared for what came next.