Jesus. “You were a child, baby. You weren’t responsible for your mother’s actions.” When did Laurie Wilson/Ann Madden stop abusing her daughter, though? Or had she? He was afraid to ask.
“How did she punish you?” he encouraged.
“All different ways. Sometimes she used her hand or a wooden spoon or a belt or a spatula or a hair brush.” As she spoke, her words came out in a rush.
There were no visible scars on Brooke’s body, so he didn’t think any of the punishments had been severe enough for her to need medical care. He prayed anyway. “Did she draw blood?”
“Sometimes. When I was little, it happened a few times, but then she seemed to control herself better. It was as if she figured out exactly how hard she could strike me to make it hurt without ruining my clothes or needing to clean me up afterward.”
Carter’s heart seized for the little girl who’d been beaten bloody as a small child. “How often did she punish you?”
“Maybe once a month when I was smaller. When I got older, it lessened. Sometimes she would go months without striking me.”
“When was the last time?”
Brooke swallowed, more tears falling. Her face was pale. Finally, she whispered, “About a year ago.”
He wiped her tears with his fingers. “I’m so sorry, baby.” Her mother was truly fucked up.
She winced. “Who does that?”
“I don’t know. Some people are disturbed. They can’t stop themselves. And if they never get help…”
“No.” She shook her head. “I mean, me. What kind of person lets their mother continue to abuse them at the age of twenty-one? I’m so weak. So stupid.” She looked away again.
Carter cupped her face, his heart breaking. “Brooke, you can’t blame yourself. You were caught in a world where you didn’t know better. You didn’t have the skills to move out and make it on your own. I’d even bet your mother knew that and did it on purpose so you couldn’t leave her.”
She nodded, but her words didn’t agree. “Still, I should have left. I should have stopped her. She was no longer bigger than me. I didn’t have to let her hit me. Why did I do that?”
He knew the answer. “For the same reason you’re asking me to punish you now. For the release. You’re used to it. I assume it purges your stress and leaves you feeling calmer afterward.”
She seemed to think about that for a minute and then her brows lifted. “Will you do it?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. I don’t like the headspace you’re in. I’m not sure it’s safe. Maybe someday in the future, but I’d want someone else with me. Rowen or Lincoln or someone who could help monitor and make sure you were safe.”
She surprised him by shoving away from him and stumbling backward. After landing on her butt, she scrambled to get to her feet and rushed from the room.
Scared out of his mind, he pushed off the couch and followed her as she raced down the hall and then entered the guest room where she’d been sleeping until last night.
She shoved the mess of boxes and papers and memorabilia out of the way and found her purse. When she opened it, she stared inside and then threw it against the wall and spun around.
He stood in the doorway, wondering what she was thinking, nervous as hell.
She stomped back toward him. “I need my car keys. Did you take them? I’m not your prisoner. Give me my car keys.”
He flinched, taken aback. “Baby, I didn’t steal your keys. They’re on the kitchen counter. You left them there yesterday. But you can’t leave here right now.”
She came at him and gave his chest a shove. “Don’t tell me what to do. I can leave if I want. I’m not staying here.”
He didn’t move. It wasn’t like she could possibly force him out of her way. He was too big. He outweighed her by over a hundred pounds. She didn’t even have the ability to inflict pain on him. “Baby, calm down. Please. You’re too angry to drive.”
She stomped a foot and spun around. “Now you’re going to tell me how I feel? Get out of my way, Carter. I’m leaving.”
He blew out a breath. “You’re not. Not right now.” Not ever. No way in hell would he let her drive off in this state of mind.
She shoved at his chest again, not managing to budge him.
He gripped the doorframe, not wanting to touch her with his hands. He could take her wrath. He didn’t want to do anything that might accidently injure her if he tried to stop her.
What he wanted to do was wrap her in his arms and hold her close so she could cry until her frustration passed. But that wasn’t in the cards. Not yet.
She picked up a pile of papers and threw them across the room toward the window. They went flying, but they were only paper. They didn’t give her any satisfaction. Instead, they fluttered to the floor.
A loud scream filled the air as she rushed toward the window next and then reached for the locks.
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath. He went after her, leaping over boxes and piles of clothes until he reached her.
By the time he got behind her, she was pulling on the bottom of the window. He wrapped his arms around her middle, pinning her biceps to her sides.
She struggled, flailing and then kicking at his shins. “Let me go,” she shouted. “I’m serious, Carter. Let me go.”
“No, baby. I’m not going to let you go.” He held her tighter, lifting her off the floor and turning away from the window.
She screamed.
He worried the neighbors would hear her and call the cops. Just what he needed. So he put his hand over her mouth to stop her as he aimed for the bed. After dropping her unceremoniously on the mattress face-first, he climbed over her and held her down. He tried to use enough weight to keep her from getting away, but not so much that he might hurt her.
She continued to struggle, shoving at the bed with both hands and kicking her legs back.
He said nothing more, just held her while she squirmed.
Breathing heavily, she tugged at her arms and then bucked her head back. He leaned to one side to avoid getting a bloody lip. Her steam ran out fast, though, and her fight lost its oomph. After a while, she gave up, her entire body sinking into the bed. She was still gasping for breath, but she stopped flailing.
He waited until he thought she was truly done and then set his head down next to hers, his lips close to her ear. “You’re okay,” he whispered. “I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay.”
She started to cry, just as he knew she would, sobbing, gasping for air, and crying hard.
He eased off her and turned her onto her side so he could pull her against his chest. With one hand, he brushed her hair from her face. With the other, he grabbed a pile of tissues from the nightstand.
After wiping her face gently, he handed her the tissues. And then he waited while she continued to cry, keeping his arms wrapped around her.
For a long time, he said nothing, expecting her to fall asleep when she wore herself out.
Chapter 17
Brooke’s mind was racing, overloaded with so many thoughts and emotions she couldn’t process them all. And she had no idea where to begin. Finally, she gathered enough sense to speak. “You don’t understand.”
“I’m trying, baby.” He stroked the back of her hand where he held it between her breasts.
“After my mother died, I was lost.” She had no idea why she felt the need to explain herself further, but it felt good to get it out. “I was a zombie. Even though she’d abused me my entire life, I still missed her. I had no one else. She left me alone in the world.”
“I’m so sorry, baby. I can’t imagine what that feels like.”
How did he know just the right things to say to her? It melted her soul a bit every time he showed her such compassion. “I was just going through the motions day in and day out. Going to work. Making not enough money to live on. Surviving. Running out of time. Scared to death.”
He held her closer, comforting
her. Helping her relax.
“And then one day I happened to be at Zodiac when Faith was there practicing. I didn’t know anything about BDSM, but I knew I was intrigued. The first time I saw her swing that whip, I knew I wanted her to use it on me. Maybe it makes no sense to you, but—”
He interrupted her, “It makes perfect sense.”
She sniffled, drawing his hand up to her cheek and tipping her face into his touch. “I craved that feeling. The release. Maybe I’m crazy and need mental help, but it’s who I am. I’m pissed at my mother for making me this way, but I can’t change the past.”
“I understand,” he soothed.
“I’m, like, addicted or something. It’s like a drug to me. I used to go for weeks or even months without it, but now that I’ve had a taste of what it can be like in a controlled environment, I want to experience it again.”
“Okay. Let me make some calls. We can go to the club in a few days and I’ll have Lincoln spot us.”
“Why? Are you afraid you’ll hit me too hard? I thought you said you’d at least practiced with other toys before. I mean, I know it’s not your usual thing, but you’re part owner of the club. You told me yourself you knew how to practice sadism even though it isn’t your preference.” She didn’t want to wait a few days, nor did she want an audience. She wanted Carter to do it. Now.
Except if he wouldn’t do it, she would find someone else. She wanted to purge the need now. Today. Not later. Someone else was better than no one at all.
“It’s not me I’m worried about. It’s you. I can’t pay close attention to your emotional state while I’m also striking you from behind. I need to see your face, or at least have someone else watch your expression. Gauge your reaction.”
She shook her head, digging her heels in. He needed to understand she wasn’t playing here. She meant business. She twisted her body until she landed on her back looking up at him. “Please.”
He frowned at her. “Why the urgency? Do you feel like you need to be punished for something right now?”
She glanced away. “I don’t know. Maybe. Yes. Probably.”
He stroked her arm. “So you feel like you’ve done something that deserves punishment?”
She closed her eyes, not wanting to see his face. “Yes. Lots of things. Yelling at you. Trying to run away. Freaking out.” In a whisper, she added, “Finding you attractive. Wanting to do things with you that are…”
He stiffened. “Are what?”
“Naughty.” She could hardly breathe at that admission.
A few seconds ticked by before he spoke again. “Baby…” He took a deep breath. “You’re not naughty. You’re human. People yell. They get mad. They stomp and fight and argue. It’s human nature.”
She knew he was right.
He set his forehead against hers, his lips a fraction away from her mouth, though she didn’t open her eyes. “And it’s perfectly normal for you to be attracted to me. Thank God you are. I’d hate to be the only one aroused in this relationship. That would suck.” His last few sentences were lighter.
She still didn’t move, trying to process his words.
“There’s also nothing wrong with wanting to practice some form of masochism. Thousands of people enjoy it. But I don’t want you to associate it with specific incidences as if you need to atone for yelling or getting aroused. At some point you need to learn to separate the craving for release from some misguided belief that you’re inherently bad. Because you’re not.”
She let her eyes slide open. “That makes sense.” It did. She understood. It would take time and a lot of frequent reminders for her to change her way of thinking, but she knew intellectually what he said had merit. “It’s like something inside me builds up until it needs release. Maybe it has nothing to do with anything I did to deserve being beaten.
“At this point, I think I’m grasping at any reason to justify the punishment. It’s what I’ve always done. It’s like a game. Eventually I sort of controlled my environment, gauging my mother’s moods and reacting accordingly to keep the balance.”
“I get that.”
She kept talking, her thoughts stumbling over each other. “I’ve been afraid for a long time that I would never find that release again. And then I met Faith and now you. It’s like a gift. There are people in the world who can strike me in a controlled environment and purge my body of whatever it needs.”
He lifted his face several inches, his brow furrowed. “I’m not sure I can be the kind of Dom you need. The thought of laying a hand on you makes me very nervous, and not just because sadism is not my thing, but because I’m not sure you’re in the right frame of mind to make decisions right now.”
“Either do it yourself or let me go.” For some reason it was the most important thing in the world to her. “I just found out I don’t know who I am. I don’t even know if my mother gave birth to me or kidnapped me. I didn’t know her name until an hour ago. I might have family. I might have a father out there. He might be abusive. Or old or dead or any number of things. I need the release, Carter.”
His brows were close together. He licked his lips. At least he finally considered her request. “I don’t like it.”
“Why? Because you’re afraid I can’t handle it? I’ve been beaten so many times I can’t count them. I learned twenty years ago to shut my mind down and pretend it wasn’t happening. I later learned to feel the pain in its entirety. Believe me, I can control my emotional state while I’m being struck with any implement in the room.”
He was still frowning. “I’m sure you can, but is it healthy?”
“Both you and Faith have told me there are others like me, people who need the absolution a flogger or a whip can provide. What makes me different?” She was getting to him. She could read it on his face.
“Because you’ve been abused for your entire life, Brooke. Not a year or an incident—your entire life. You need counseling, not more abuse.”
She cocked her head to one side. “It’s not abuse when you do it. I’m educated enough on the subject to know that. It’s consensual. I’m asking you to do it.”
He almost grinned. “You should become a lawyer.”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t even have a high school diploma.”
“I’ll help you get one.”
“Don’t change the subject.”
He grabbed one of her hands and held it in his, flattening it against the bed next to her head. “It’d rather fuck you than strike you with anything.”
Her body jumped to attention when he said fuck. So crude. It woke up something inside her, something that was no longer foreign. She flushed. “Use a belt on me first, and then I’ll let you have sex with me.”
He shook his head. “Not a chance in hell.”
“Carter.” She moaned. “Stop being unreasonable.”
He stared down at her, his expression serious. “I’ve never been so reasonable in my life. It’s killing me. I’ve wanted to have sex with you from the moment you stepped into my line of sight at the club. It’s all I think about, but I won’t do it. Not this soon. Not while you’re so confused and distraught.”
She licked her lips. “You said yourself what we did this morning was essentially sex anyway. What difference does it make if you put your, uh, penis inside me?”
He chuckled. “You can hardly say the word, and you want me to fuck you?”
She had an idea. Her eyes widened as she considered it. “How about we make a game out of it?”
“Out of what?” he asked warily.
“I’ll pretend to be naughty and maybe even cuss if you want, and you can punish me.” It would work.
He shook his head. “No way.”
She let her shoulders sag. “Carter,” she whined, knowing that noise always made her mother livid.
“Not going to work, baby. Ever,” he emphasized as he leaned in and kissed her nose. “I don’t do brats.”
“That’s exactly my point. If I misbehave, you have to pu
t me in my place.” She had no idea why she would suggest such a thing, but it seemed brilliant.
“Never. Not my kind of kink. There are people who role-play that way. I’m not one of them.”
Her heart beat faster. “There are others who play that way?”
“Yes.” He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “And if you decide along the way you really need something like that, you’d have to find some other Dom to do it. It won’t be me.”
He was so infuriating.
“Baby, I’m far more into the sensual side of kink. I like my women to submit to me in the bedroom, on their knees, keeping good form, obeying my commands until they come so hard they can’t think straight. Did I not demonstrate that to you?”
Her cheek grew hotter. “You did. And I loved it. But I want more.”
Shocking her, he released her and turned away, sitting on the edge of the bed, facing the window.
She scrambled to her knees and came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his chest and setting her cheek against his back. She didn’t say anything at first, waiting for him to work out whatever he had in his mind, praying he would give in so she wouldn’t have to leave and go find someone else.
He set his hands over hers after a few moments and lifted her fingers to kiss her knuckles. “Okay. I’ll give you what you want, but I have conditions.”
She jerked up straighter, yanked her hands out of his grasp, and crawled off the edge of the bed so fast, she nearly tripped as she slid to the floor. Seconds later, she was in front of him on her knees. “Anything.”
He shook his head as he smiled down at her. “Woman, if you make me regret this—”
“I won’t.” She waited for him to continue, knowing she would consent to anything he asked.
“Condition number one, I use my hand, nothing else. Not today.”
She nodded eagerly. “Done.”
“Two, I decide when you’ve had enough, and no arguing.”
“Fine.”
“Third, this is the one and only time I’m going to let you manipulate me into doing what you want. I’ll never spank you or in any way punish you physically in the future for bad behavior. Don’t even try it. If you whine at me or try to play the brat or deliberately disobey me in order to get disciplined, you’ll find yourself very frustrated because I’ll stand you in a corner and ignore you instead of giving you what you want.”
Collaring Brooke (Club Zodiac Book 3) Page 17
