by Alice Raine
So Nicholas’ brother was a dominant too. What a family.
When he raised his eyes to mine, Nicholas looked thoroughly ashamed. ‘When I was 18, I was finally starting to come out of my shell. I’d been incredibly insular; Nathan had done the parent thing and tried his best to inform me about girls and relationships. He explained to me what he did and suggested it might suit me too so I tried it.’ Nicholas took a deep breath and once again ran a hand through his hair. ‘In a totally fucked-up way, it was his way of trying to show he loved me, I think.
‘This will all sound crazy to you, Rebecca, but you must remember I had no idea what was normal. I’d grown up seeing my parents’ screwed-up relationship and I thought that was what submission meant. It was all I knew; I had no idea what was usual, no clue what I wanted.’ Another helpless shrug. ‘It went from there but I never felt quite right with being a full dominant; having someone there 24/7 didn’t suit me. I knew I had a lot of suppressed anger and I lost my temper quickly, I knew I liked to control things because I’d never been able to before, but for me I only liked the girls with me for short periods of time.’
I grimly translated this to “I only wanted the girls there for sex”.
‘Nathan has always had a submissive who lives with him; they change occasionally. In truth, he’s probably more like Dad than he likes to believe. I could never do that: I never wanted someone living with me, not until …’ His sentence faded but the look in Nicholas’ eyes as he gazed across the table at me told me the final word. ‘You.’
Not that he’d ever officially asked me to move in with him, but after his declaration that he wanted to try a relationship I’d barely left his house, mostly at his insistence. It had felt so natural, so right, that I’d been more than happy with the arrangement.
Rubbing both hands vigorously over his face as if he could wash away the memories, Nicholas then sat back violently against the cushions. ‘So that’s it. My fucked-up life in a nutshell,’ he said with a grim twist of his mouth. ‘And now you know.’ He wriggled his intertwined fingers in front of him on the table.
Wow . Just wow. My head was spinning as I sat in stunned silence, unable to think of one thing that was remotely comforting or reassuring enough for the enormity of what Nicholas had just told me. It wasn’t often that I was lost for words – usually the opposite, in fact, with my mouth in overdrive – but right now I had nothing. Nada. Zilch. The similarities to Joanne’s history made Nicholas’ story all the more painful for me to listen to, and my head was now too full of information to try and begin to sort through it all with him watching me like a hawk.
‘I’m seeing someone now,’ Nicholas said several seconds later, breaking the tense silence that hung between us.
What? Nicholas was seeing someone else? A new submissive? If that was the case, why the hell had he just poured his heart out to me? I gripped the table edge and struggled to breathe, feeling distinctly like the world had just been ripped out from under me.
Obviously seeing my reaction, which was close to hyperventilating terror, Nicholas almost smiled at me. ‘A counsellor, Rebecca, just like you suggested. I’m seeing a counsellor for my condition and my anger. I went to him the day after you left me and paid for a three-hour session. Now I’m going weekly. I’ve told him everything,’ he explained with a simple shrug.
‘Everything?’ I asked, amazed that he was taking such a huge step toward his recovery but at the same time mortified that I would have been discussed with a complete stranger, let alone all the things we’d done together. A shudder of embarrassment ran through me.
‘Yes.’ Nicholas was solemn. ‘I hate myself for what I did to you. I can’t begin to tell you how much I regret my actions that day. After talking with Dr Philips, I at least think I understand why I did it now.’
I swallowed, forcing myself to ask the question I needed the answer to. ‘Why?’ I whispered, almost too scared to hear his response. Please don’t let him say, “because I wanted to hurt you”, I thought. If he said that, I just wouldn’t ever be able to go back to him; my self-preservation just wouldn’t allow it.
‘I was scared of the feelings I had for you and believed you deserved better than me, so to prove to myself that I was no good for you I regressed back to my childhood and beat you with a cane like my father used to beat me. Dr Phillips thinks I was trying to make you leave because I didn’t feel worthy of you.’ Nicholas leant forward, looking like he wanted to reach out for me, and I desperately wanted to let him. But again, I made myself refrain by keeping my arms firmly crossed over my chest and digging my nails painfully into my palms.
‘Dr Philips said if I was a true dominant I would have enjoyed it when I beat you,’ he murmured in a low, disgusted tone as a huge sigh escaped his chest. ‘But I didn’t feel good about it. In fact, I can barely remember what happened. I suppose on some fucked-up level my subconscious plan worked because you left. Truthfully, I didn’t even realise I’d done it until you said the safeword. It was like I was in a fucking trance.’ He sounded scornful, apparently disgusted with himself, but as he said this part I remembered back to that horrible night and how I’d thought the same thing at the time. I’d been upset, yes, but I’d still noticed when he’d snapped out of it and seemed completely horrified at what he’d done.
Looking utterly traumatised, he leant forward and stared at me intently. ‘I swear on my life it will never happen again. Please, please give me another chance,’ he pleaded in a rush as if he couldn’t hold back the words any longer.
After his huge confession, I was completely shell-shocked. My emotions were in free fall. No wonder Nicholas was so monumentally fucked up. My overwhelming feeling was to comfort him, help him somehow, but this was all just so much to take in.
‘I don’t know,’ I whispered almost apologetically. ‘I have to go home; I need time to think.’ With thoughts of Joanne and Nicholas filling my head, it was getting too much for me to deal with. I needed to compartmentalise my mind and deal with one thing at a time. Preferably with a huge tub of chocolate ice cream to aid my thinking skills. His shoulders sagged at my words but, reluctantly, Nicholas nodded.
‘You’ll call me?’ he asked, all the wind seemingly knocked from his once arrogant sails.
‘I will,’ I promised as I stood up to leave. I took a step away, then realised I no longer had his number after Louise erased it from my phone. Talk about awkward. I turned back to him. ‘Uh, do you have a business card on you, Nicholas?’ I asked awkwardly.
Fumbling for his wallet, Nicholas stared up at me with horror-filled eyes. ‘You deleted my number?’ he whispered, apparently both stunned and hurt by my admission.
I took the card from him and clenched my teeth. ‘I did. You beat me with a cane,’ I reminded him sourly before scooping up my coat and heading out into the cool of the evening with my head spinning like a top.
Chapter Fourteen
I must have looked like a complete weirdo as I stood at the bus stop chewing my lip and scowling deeply, but looking like a freak was the last thing on my mind right now. People could think what they liked; I truly didn’t care. I almost felt like I had motion sickness as I tried to keep up with my mind, which had sped into overdrive trying to replay every detail of my meeting with Nicholas.
My plan today had been to walk home from work – avoiding the piano restorers, of course – but Nicholas’ arrival in the shop had changed all that and thrown me completely off balance. My brain was now so full and confused I seriously doubted my ability to walk in a straight line, let alone navigate the route to my flat successfully, so I decided on the safer option of the bus.
Trying to slow my mind from its current dizzying speed, I rewound the conversation with Nicholas and ran through all he had told me again. What a shitty life he’d had. Although that didn’t really do it justice, did it? Abused by his parents to the point of trying suicide to escape them, then brought into a world of kinky sex by his equally damaged brother.
It was
a wonder he was as “normal” as he was, I thought with an ironic shake of my head.
As I thought back over all he’d told me, I realised guiltily that I’d completely taken everything in my childhood for granted: loving, supportive parents, a safe home, encouragement, advice, and near-constant laughter. Things every child should have, but things that Nicholas had never experienced. I made a mental note to call my mum tomorrow and thank her.
How on earth could I expect him to understand love, trust, and relationships if he’d never witnessed these things? It would be like asking me to fly an aeroplane without any lessons – impossible. All he’d known was violence, domination, silence and fear. No wonder he was screwed up. Without realising it, a huge breath escaped my chest and I puffed out my cheeks at the enormity of the decisions I now had to try and make.
Telling me the secrets of his past had clearly been a torturous experience for Nicholas. He’d looked so lost, so vulnerable, nothing like the confident man I was used to. I sighed heavily as I leant back on the glass wall of the bus stop, realising this was probably when he needed me the most and I’d just walked away from him. A fresh wave of guilt washed over me and I began chewing on my nails to give my sore lip a rest.
An uneasy sensation settled in my stomach as I realised that this was the second time in my life when I’d deserted someone I loved at a time when they needed me the most. My sister, Joanne, had been the first, and I still regretted my actions regarding that situation every single day. Until now, I’d thought of myself as a fairly well rounded individual; was it possible I was actually just a selfish cow in disguise?
Really, what my decision rested on was one simple question: could I really walk away from Nicholas, the man I loved, when he was at his lowest point and in need of my support?
By the time I took a seat on the bus I hadn’t really come to any solid conclusions; I was still so confused. I loved him; that much was clear. Loved him so much more than I’d ever thought possible … but could I forgive his monumental fuck-up with the cane and go back to someone with such severe anger management issues? Although he was getting help for that from his counsellor. Plus, technically, the cane had been the only time I’d seen that side of him. I considered the alternative with a grimace – living without Nicholas, knowing how much I loved him, but not having him.
Once again, nerves made me want to throw up, which seemed to be happening a lot lately, along with biting of my lip and my almost obsessive fidgeting with my hair. I was a veritable catalogue of nervous tendencies these days; a shrink would no doubt have a field day with me. But I pushed aside my nausea with a sardonic smile. I was supposed to be a boring bookshop owner. How on earth had my life become this complicated?
Twenty minutes later, I pushed the key into the front door before pausing. Then, withdrawing the key, I chose to ring the bell instead. After the almost concussing volume of thoughts running through my mind on the bus, I now stood outside Nicholas’ shiny front door, not my tatty flat entrance, and decided barging in unannounced might not be the ideal arrival.
Mr Burrett answered almost immediately, looking immaculate as always and with an expression of pleasant surprise crossing his face as he saw me on the step. Even after four months, I still found it amusing that Nicholas had house staff, and even more amusing that I’d actually dated someone who had a butler. How grand was that!
‘Miss Langley.’ He greeted me with a warm smile and a nod; if I wasn’t mistaken, he looked distinctly relieved that I was there.
‘Hi, Mr Burrett, is Nicholas in?’ I asked tentatively as I slipped the spare key that Nicholas had given me back in my bag. If things didn’t go well in the next half an hour, I’d have to give the key back and try my hardest to forget all about Nicholas Jackson and the huge part he had so briefly played in my life. That would be practically impossible, seeing as he was the most charismatic, domineering, and sexy man I’d ever met, but I decided not to dwell on that.
‘Mr Jackson arrived home about ten minutes ago,’ he confirmed, with a small, tense glance over his shoulder. ‘He was rather agitated and went straight to his music room.’ Oh dear. An agitated Nicholas.
Straining my ears, I could just about hear soft piano notes floating down from the room above. It sounded a melancholy tune and I almost rolled my eyes; he was obviously feeling sorry for himself.
‘Would you like to go up? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind the interruption from you,’ Mr Burrett offered hopefully.
Images of the music room with its piano and memories of the naughty things we’d done together flashed through my mind, making me swallow rather loudly. It wasn’t exactly an ideal place for a heart-to-heart; far too distracting for my already baffled brain. ‘Actually, would you mind telling him I’m here? I’ll wait in the lounge,’ I suggested with a tight smile.
‘Of course,’ Mr Burrett replied genially. He started to walk away, then turned back. ‘It’s nice to see you here again, Miss Langley … we’ve all missed you.’ Seeing as no one else lived there, I took this as a discreet reference to the fact that Nicholas had missed me, and had probably been an absolute nightmare to deal with. For a brief second, as his mouth hung open, I thought Mr Burrett was going to say more, but then he snapped his lips shut and gracefully turned for the stairs as I let myself into the lounge and nervously lowered myself onto the sofa.
The house went suddenly silent as the piano stopped and then I heard Nicholas’ disbelieving voice from upstairs. ‘Rebecca’s here? Where?’
‘In the lounge, sir.’ But before Mr Burrett had even finished uttering the sentence, I heard clattering footsteps descending the stairs at a great rate of knots. Clearly, Nicholas was coming down them two at a time. He appeared in the doorway, wide-eyed and flushed, with his hair tousled across his forehead.
For some time we simply stared at each other, the atmosphere thickening as if by some strange chemical reaction that always seemed to occur between us. Looking at his guarded but expectant face, I knew I’d made the right choice. I loved him, and although I didn’t ever think I would be able to fully accept the way Nicholas had treated me with the cane, I was at least some way toward understanding why he had done it.
‘I thought you said you were going home,’ he murmured uncertainly from the doorway.
‘I did,’ I said simply, my cryptic answer causing him to frown. So, with a sigh, I explained myself. ‘My flat is just that, Nicholas. It’s a place to eat and sleep. But home is where the people you care about are … so I got off the bus and came here instead.’
As he processed my words, I saw a glimmer of hope flicker in Nicholas’ eyes, but, obviously still wary, he stayed standing, holding the doorframe for support. It seemed I would need to make the first move so I patted the sofa next to me, causing him to raise his eyebrows. At last, he began to walk toward me cautiously before folding his tall frame into the seat space next to me.
Steeling my nerves and taking a deep breath, I decided to be brave and get the difficult part out of the way first. Nicholas had been open enough to tell me his painful past, so I needed to do the same, even though I didn’t want to. I needed to tell him about Joanne and the horrible guilt I lived with daily; make him understand that to a certain extent I knew how he felt.
‘Firstly, I want to apologise for leaving the pub so abruptly …’ I started, but Nicholas interrupted me with a dismissive wave of his hand.
‘Rebecca, you have nothing to apologise for,’ he muttered with a shake of his head.
‘Yes I do, Nicholas,’ I said with determination. ‘I walked away from you when you needed me the most.’ Pursing my lips, I wondered how to tell him the next part, deciding that keeping it quick and to the point was probably best. Short and sweet, wasn’t that the phrase? Except there would be nothing sweet about my story.
‘I left partly to give me time to think about us, but also because your story reminded me of a painful time in my past – well, my sister’s past,’ I clarified. ‘I need to tell you this before we talk ab
out us because it has certain similarities to your story and, in a way, helped me to understand how you must have felt as a teenager.’
Looking confused, overwhelmed, and thoroughly un-Nicholas-like, he had turned himself on the sofa so he could pay me full attention, but was still careful to maintain a distance between us as he nodded for me to continue.
Keep it short and sweet, I reminded myself as I prepared to get my horrible secret off my chest.
‘When we were younger, my sister and I didn’t get on. Actually, we pretty much hated each other,’ I clarified with a grimace. ‘Jo wanted to be best at everything and after a while I started to resent her for it, I suppose.’ My fingers were desperately twining in my lap; better add that to my list of nervous habits. ‘Anyway, when we were teenagers, we partied a lot. My parents insisted that we always arrived together and left together for safety, but we barely used to speak two words to each other while we were out.’
I sucked in a breath; this story was harder to tell than I had anticipated.
‘One night, we got invited to a college party. As soon as we walked in the door, Joanne hooked up with some random guy and was all over him. She was doing her usual and smirking at me, showing off the fact that she was prettier than me and got more boys to look at her.’ I let out a long sigh – this had all seemed like such a long time ago, but now the details seemed so painfully fresh in my mind.
‘I had a headache that night and told her I wanted to go home, but she thought I was sulking and told me to stop being miserable and have a drink. But I wasn’t sulking, I genuinely did have a headache,’ I added, trying to convince myself that I’d been right to go home. ‘I broke my parents’ rule that night by getting a cab home on my own and leaving Joanne at the party.’ I got this far and then felt my throat tighten up, making words almost impossible.
