by Roni Loren
Lenore: But part of me feels like it’d be betraying you. That sounds a little crazy, I know. I guess I’m not good at drawing clear lines between virtual and real life.
Dmitry: If it helps, I’m so jealous of this guy I want to punch something. I’m pacing my house right now to avoid damaging a wall. I feel possessive. But it’s not fair for me to put any restrictions on you.
A warm feeling crept through her chest at that. It helped to know that he felt jealous. She wasn’t the only one who’d let the virtual bleed into real life. There were real emotions involved on both sides.
Lenore: We’re a pair, aren’t we?
Dmitry: A mess.
She let her fingers rest lightly against her phone. They’d had so many of these late-night conversations. Many had been sexual, but many others had been like this. Personal. Honest. This was what made it harder to find the boundary lines. If it were just sex, she’d be able to drop it. But somehow along the way, they’d developed more.
But she didn’t know where they went from here. They were both getting in deeper than planned and things were getting complicated. She wasn’t good at juggling. She could rationalize having a virtual-only sex life when she didn’t want to make time for dating and had no real-life prospects. But she didn’t know how she could justify shutting out real-life attraction when it fell in her lap in order to be loyal to someone she’d never get to meet. Or someone who she could meet and find they had no chemistry or that he was married or twenty years older than she was.
They were at a crossroads and the only way she could figure they could navigate it was brutal honesty. So she typed the question she’d been afraid to ask all along.
Lenore: Why do you do this?
Dmitry: Talk to you?
Lenore: No. Hayven. You seem experienced and knowledgeable and you’re funny and sexy on the phone. What’s keeping you from having a relationship in person?
Dmitry: Do you really want to go there, L? Do you want to have to answer the same question?
She frowned. They’d set up parameters early on. No real-life stuff. No identifying information. This is just a game. But she was tired of not knowing.
Lenore: I’ll answer it. I’m here because my dating life sucked. And I think I could be kinky but am terrified to try it, to risk getting involved with someone who could hurt me or take advantage of the situation or shame me for my desires. It’s hard to tell the bad guys from the good ones.
Dmitry: So you wanted to be safe.
Lenore: Yes. And I wanted to feel sexy. I’m . . .
She took a deep breath, trying to force herself to finish the words.
Lenore: just an average woman. I’m no supermodel. I don’t turn heads. And I’m no Lenore.
She closed her eyes. There. She’d finally said it. He would know. She was a fraud.
Her phone dinged.
Dmitry: Have you lied to me? In any of the conversations we’ve had. In any of the things we’ve done.
Lenore: No.
Dmitry: Then you’re just as much Lenore as you are the person the world knows. There’s nothing average about you. I see you, L. Even if I have no idea what you really look like. I see you and that’s all that matters to me.
The words brought unexpected tears to her eyes. The screen blurred and she had to blink to clear her vision. God.
Lenore: And you? Who have you shown me?
Dmitry: Me. This is the only place where I can let my guard down. You’re the only person who sees this. I’ve never lied to you. But my life is complicated and there’s no room for this part of me in it.
The words seemed so final, so . . . sad.
Lenore: Why?
Dmitry: That’s one of those things I can’t answer. And it’s the reason that I can’t tell you not to go out with this guy. You deserve to be taken on dates and touched and cared for. You deserve more than this.
Lenore: And you don’t?
There was another long pause.
Dmitry: I know we’re not playing tonight, but I’m going to give you a command. You ready?
Cora didn’t feel ready at all. A cold feeling was creeping through her. But what else could she say?
Lenore: Okay.
Dmitry: You’re going to be careful and smart. But you’re going to tell this guy yes. And you’re not going to think about me. Or feel guilty. Don’t waste that emotion on me. You’re going to go and live your life in the real world. You’re ready for that. You are kinky. Embrace that. And when you find a deserving guy, your submission will be a gift and he’ll be the luckiest bastard around.
Her throat tightened and she started to type, her thumbs moving quickly over the screen, but his next response came up before she could finish.
Dmitry: You’ll never have any idea what you’ve given me these last few months. There aren’t words. But I can’t and won’t let this keep you from living your life. Or even distract you from it.
She shook her head but her fingers were frozen against her phone.
Dmitry: I’m releasing you, L.
The simple words were like a linebacker hitting her chest, knocking the air from her. She didn’t know what to say or how to react. He was releasing her. He was letting her go. All the months of talking to him almost every night, of having this secret relationship, this respite. And he was ending it.
She forced her fingers to move.
Lenore: This is because I’m not a supermodel, right?
She’d meant it to be snarky, her defenses trying to rally in the face of this unexpected blow. But he was silent for a long time and she started to wonder if that was the truth. Maybe he was trying to find a graceful way to bail now that he knew she was just an average girl. Maybe he was trying to feed her some bullshit to make himself look self-sacrificing. She was working herself up into a righteous anger by the time his response came.
Dmitry: No. This is because you deserve more than this. And because I don’t get to fall for a girl like you.
Her whole body stilled.
Lenore: Don’t walk away like this. We don’t have to stop talking.
Dmitry: No, we really do. Take care of yourself, L. And don’t settle. You’re worthy of devotion. I wish I could be there to give you mine.
Tears slipped down her face and she started to respond but a message came up instead.
Dmitry has signed out.
The notification on the screen popped up so innocently. Four simple words. And that was that. The end. Have a nice life.
Good-bye.
I don’t get to fall for a girl like you.
He’d typed the words, but she could have just as easily reversed them.
Because part of her had already fallen for him. And now he was gone.
With numb fingers, she tossed her phone aside and sank back into her pillows, feeling hollowed out and lost. She’d gone online to protect herself, to save herself the trouble of relationships, and all she’d done was set herself up for another fall.
A real one this time.
She’d just gotten her heart broken by a guy she’d never even laid eyes on.
THIRTEEN
Ren padded into the kitchen barefoot, half asleep, and in search of cold water. The light over the stove was on, the faint glow casting the rest of the kitchen in shadows, and the clock on the microwave informed the darkness that it was almost three. Ren yawned and grabbed a cup from the cabinet.
But the clink of ice cubes against glass had him jumping. He spun around, blinking and trying to get his vision to adjust. “What the hell, Fox?”
Hayes was sitting on a stool by the island, a highball glass in his hand and a bottle of whiskey next to him. “Morning.”
Ren frowned. “It’s the middle of the night. What are you doing?”
Hayes grabbed the neck of the whiskey bottle and gave it a little shake.
“Drinkin’.”
Ren set his cup aside. This wouldn’t be good. Hayes wasn’t a big drinker, but when he reached for a bottle, he usually went all the way. Luckily, it looked like most of the amber liquid was still in the bottle. He’d caught him early. “I can see that. Any particular reason?”
“Do I need to pick just one?” Hayes set down the bottle and stared at his glass, a distant look on his face.
“Okay, so existential drinking. Got it.”
Hayes laced his fingers around the glass, not looking up for a long time and seemingly lost in his own thoughts. Ren watched him, not knowing what to say and wondering if he should just leave him to it. Sometimes a man needed to drink alone.
“You ever get that feeling like you can’t win no matter what?” Hayes said finally. “Like, no matter how careful you are, your fate is already written in stone somewhere? It’s like that movie we watched when we were in college, that one with the kids avoiding the plane crash but then they all start dying in other ways?”
“Final Destination.”
“Yeah.”
Ren scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to clear the cobwebs and process this conversation. “Sure. I mean, I guess everyone feels stuck like that at some point. I felt that way when I was with Gordon. Like no matter what I did, all roads would lead back to him. Inescapable destiny.”
Hayes frowned. “That disgusting piece of shit wasn’t your destiny.”
“No. Thank God. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t feel that way at the time.” He eyed Hayes, trying to gauge whether he was in the mood to talk or looking for an argument. He decided to risk it. “And for what it’s worth, what you’re going through now isn’t yours either. We’re going to figure this out.”
Hayes exhaled loudly. “You don’t know that. We may never figure it out. I may have whoever this is lurking over me until he gets what he wants.” His fingers tightened around his glass. “I’ve shut down my goddamned life since I got out of prison to protect myself. I’ve created my own cage. And still someone’s figured out a way to get to me. What the hell could I have possibly done to piss off someone this bad?”
“Nothing,” Ren said flatly. “Nothing you might’ve done justifies what’s been done to you. Unless you’ve killed someone I don’t know about.”
Hayes sent him a grim look. “Don’t joke. I came close once. You remember that first night you slept at my place when we were kids?”
Ren didn’t know where Hayes was going with this but he had a feeling it would require alcohol. He walked over to the island and grabbed the bottle. He poured a shot into his empty water glass and took a sip. The liquid burned down his throat. “Sure. Christmas Eve that year I came back.”
“Your parents were having that party.”
Ren groaned. “Yeah a big family thing. My personal nightmare. All these people wanted to talk to me, welcome me home. But I couldn’t even fake normal. I couldn’t see how I’d ever fit in to that again, so I hid in my room. Then Gordon called.”
Hayes grimaced. “That psychopath had radar for knowing when you were vulnerable.”
“Yeah. He said all the right things that night. Apologies. Promises. And even knowing that half of it was lies, that felt more normal than what I was having to deal with at my house.” Ren took another swallow of the whiskey, remembering that cajoling voice in his ear. You don’t have to pretend with me, baby. You can be who you’re supposed to be. Mine. I’ll take care of you. Come home with me. “My mind was still twisted up with him. I remember thinking, At least with him I know what to do. Just listen and obey and fuck how and who he told me to. I didn’t have to worry about more than that.”
Hayes looked up at that, his gaze haunted. “I was outside sneaking a cigarette and saw you jumping out your window with a backpack.” He shook his head. “I knew exactly what you were doing. God, I was so fucking pissed at you.”
Ren smiled at the memory. So this was his almost-killed-someone story? Ren believed him. He could still see a lanky seventeen-year-old Hayes coming out of the shadows, smoke curling around him. They’d developed a tentative friendship at that point. He’d told Hayes about Gordon one night when they’d gotten drunk on cheap rum. About how he’d fallen for this older, rich guy and had run away with him, thinking he was going on some kinky adventure where he didn’t have to worry about disappointing his parents or failing in school. But a few months into running away, he’d realized Gordon had pulled a bait and switch. Ren had found himself trapped in a fucked-up, abusive relationship masking as BDSM. Gordon had groomed him, made him the perfect slave, made Ren love him, mindfucked him to the nth degree. Then he’d started lending Ren out and charging men for the privilege. All to prove just how completely he’d owned Ren. It’d been a year before a cop had recognized Ren on the street from a flyer and picked him up as a runaway.
And even after getting returned home, Ren still hadn’t labeled Gordon as the enemy in his mind. But Hayes certainly hadn’t had a problem telling Ren what a psycho the guy was. So when Hayes had caught Ren sneaking out, he’d known where Ren was going. And he wasn’t going to let it happen.
Hayes had shoved Ren against the wall, tossed Ren’s cell phone in the bushes, and asked him what the hell he thought he was doing. Ren shook his head. “You told me if I was so desperate for someone to tell me what to do, you could do that. Then you informed me that I’d be sleeping in your bed that night.”
Hayes mouth curled at the corner, a hint of pride there. “And you listened. I was always meant to be a dom.”
“Yeah, well, I thought this hot guy was coming on to me. A scandalous, angry fuck with the neighbor suddenly sounded like a good alternative plan to going back to my demented ex. I didn’t figure out until you got me over there that you really meant for me to just go to sleep. Fucking tease.”
Hayes sniffed. “I didn’t realize how what I’d said had come across until you got to my house and asked if I had condoms.”
“You should’ve seen your face,” Ren said with a smirk. “So scandalized. And so annoyingly straight.”
“Not that straight. The first hour I laid there next to you, I couldn’t get the thought out of my head. I spent the first part of that night freaking out that I was hard as a rock over a dude.”
Ren leaned onto his forearms, this new revelation sending a curling warmth through him. “Yeah? Damn. I wish I would’ve known. I so would’ve handled that for you. I could have taken your bi-virginity.”
Hayes met his eyes. “That would’ve been a more fun use of our time. I stayed up all night instead because I was scared you’d bolt. I could see you still had Gordon’s shackles on you even though you’d left him. I knew if you saw him again, you’d go back.”
Ren frowned and traced the rim of his glass with the tip of his finger. “Inescapable destiny.”
“More than you realize,” Hayes said quietly. “He came for you that night.”
Ren’s attention snapped upward. “What?”
“I never told you because I didn’t want you to be tempted. I was still awake and saw someone pull up on the side of your house. Real polished-looking dude in an Audi. Wearing a tie at one in the goddamned morning.”
Ren stared at him, stunned. “He came to my family’s house?”
Hayes dipped his head. “I saw him out there, staring at your window, probably checking for an alarm system to see if he could get in or lure you out with some bullshit sweet talk. And I looked at you sleeping in my bed and, I don’t know, I had this protective surge and all this rage welled up. I’d watched my dad manipulate my mom for so many years when I was growing up, watched how easily she’d get drawn back in when he showed the smallest of kindnesses after being such a dick to her. I just . . . I reacted. I found my dad’s gun and stalked across the street like a goddamned lunatic.”
Ren couldn’t even form words. He grabbed a stool and collapsed onto it.
&n
bsp; “He never saw me coming.” Hayes looked toward the hallway, eyes unfocused. “I put the gun to his head, told him if he ever came within ten miles of you again, I would kill him. And that if he didn’t get back in his fancy car and leave for good, I was calling in his license plate number and reporting his pedophile ass.”
“Jesus, Hayes. You could’ve gotten yourself killed. Gordon was . . . What the fuck were you thinking?” Ren scraped a hand through his hair, old fear grabbing him. Fear of what could’ve been. He’d seen Gordon beat the shit out of those who didn’t fall in line. And the man had always carried a weapon. “What did he do?”
Hayes turned to look at him. “He was a smug son of a bitch. Called me ‘kid’ and told me you’d never be free of him. That every time you gave yourself to me, you’d be thinking of him, performing the tricks he taught you how to do. That he’d taken the good parts of you and left just a pretty fuck toy behind.”
Ren’s insides twisted. That kick of insecurity, that seed of doubt Gordon had continuously sowed, was like a phantom limb. The belief was no longer there, but the memory lingered—you’re nothing without me. He gripped the edge of the counter and shotgunned the rest of his drink. “Why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?”
Hayes looked down at his hands, his fingers white against the glass. “Because back then, I was afraid you’d believe it. I knew it wasn’t true. I saw how special you were, how talented. I always saw that. I knew you’d come out of it and be successful. But I also knew I’d never use you like that scum had. I’d never put you in that situation no matter how badly I wanted to touch you sometimes.”
Ren pinched the bridge of his nose, all the information almost too much to take in.
“That’s why I’ve always kept that line between us,” Hayes said. “Not because I couldn’t imagine being with you that way. Not because we were in business together. But because I didn’t want to be another person to use you. And if I’d taken you up on the offer you made a few weeks ago, I would’ve been using you.”
“It’s not using if I offered,” he said, but didn’t look up.
