Eternally Yours: Bliss Series, Book Six
Page 11
“Yes, Precious.”
“Are you going out?”
“Yes, I’ve got another appointment. We discussed this earlier. You’re staying here, and you’ll be fine.” I have to believe it’s best for her to stay here alone. She’s got to get used to it at some point, and she knows she’s safe here. “Do you understand?”
She nods and tries to smile, but that doesn’t work. “Yes, sir. I understand.” She sniffles a little before she asks, “He wasn’t there, was he?”
“No, babe. He wasn’t. This may happen again too. We’ll talk to Ted about it tomorrow. Maybe he can explain to you what’s going on in your mind when this happens. If you have any problems while I’m gone, call Brian or Cirilla. Can you do that?”
“Yes, sir.” Defeat lines her face and I’m sad beyond words. She’s really upset about everything that happened today, and I don’t know what to say to make it better except to keep telling her it’ll be okay.
“While I’m gone, why don’t you get out all your art supplies and figure out how you want to store them? I can get you a table, and some shelves, and some storage boxes or whatever you need.”
I can tell she’s surprised. “You’d do that?”
“For you? Yes. I’d absolutely, positively do it. Figure it out and get some ideas. Do you know how to use the internet?”
“Yes, sir. They taught me at the shelter.”
“Then use my laptop back there and come up with some storage ideas. We’ll look at them when I come back.”
“Yes, sir. Will I have time to cook too?” The blush that spreads across her cheeks is unexpected but charming.
“No. But that’s okay. We’ll go out. Now get busy!” I say and give her butt a playful slap.
Her giggles are music to my ears. “Okay! Thank you! Go to your appointment and good luck.”
“Thanks. Be back shortly.” If she empties those bags, she’ll find my note. I hope it encourages her a little.
We’ve got three properties to look at, and the client and I set out. I’m worried that my phone will start ringing again, but it doesn’t, and that worries me too. Can’t choose which to worry about, I suppose. By the time we get to the last property, I guess I’m a bit preoccupied because Mr. Garrity, the client, asks, “You okay, Lucien?”
“Yeah. Just a little worried about something personal. I’m sorry, but it’s okay. Nothing to be concerned about, really.” Wish I could convince myself of that.
“Ah, it’s all right. We all have personal stuff that seeps into our business lives sometimes. Should’ve seen me during my first divorce. I was a wreck!” he says and laughs. First divorce? I don’t even want to know which marriage he’s on now.
The last property isn’t far from Brian and Cirilla’s, so I head to their place for a couple of minutes when I’m finished. “Good day?” he asks as soon as I walk in.
“Yes. I’m not sure, but I think Garrity really liked the property over on Crull Avenue. From what I can see, the deal is imminent.”
“Good job. One of the things I’m noticing is that if I give you a client, you seal the deal, Lucien. That’s what I need―a closer.”
“I’m trying.”
We stand there for a few seconds before he says, “I get the distinct impression you want to talk about something else.”
The long sigh that erupts from my lips would be impossible to hold in even if I tried. “Yeah. I … Brian, I think I’m way out of my league here.”
“With Rayanna?” I nod. “What went on this morning? You said she had a meltdown.”
I tell the tale of what happened. It occurs to me while I’m talking that she sounds like a raving lunatic from what I’m saying, and that’s not how I want anyone to think of her. One thing’s for sure with Brian, though―he knows the questions to ask. “So do you think she actually thought she saw him, or did she panic because she was alone in the store?”
A shrug is all I’ve got. “I have no idea. Thank god we’ve got an appointment with Ted in the morning. I have to work.”
“Where is she now?”
“At home. She’s supposed to be pulling out all the art supplies I bought her and figuring out how to store them. And I left her a note in one of the bags, so I’m hoping she’s found it by now.”
He nods. “Good.” He’s staring at the floor, deep in thought, and then he lifts his head and look straight into my face. “Lucien, I believe you’re doing a much better job than you think. Don’t underestimate yourself. Do you care for this woman?”
“I love her. I’m not saying undying, deep, desperate love, but I do love her.”
“Enough that you don’t want her to leave after the six weeks?”
That’s something I haven’t said out loud to anybody, but I suppose I should, and I know Brian is a safe person to say it to. “Yeah. I want her to stay.”
“Then do what you have to do. You know we’ll all support you however we can. But neither of you will have any peace until that piece of shit who almost killed her is in prison for the long haul.” I know he’s right.
As soon as I’m in the car, I shoot her a text: I’m on my way home. Should I stop for anything? I wait, but I get no reply, and that makes me very nervous.
It’s hard to keep my speed to ten over the limit in my rush to get home. If something’s happened to her, I’ll … I don’t know what I’ll do. After I park in the lot, I run to the apartment and throw open the door. “Rayanna!”
“Yes, sir! Help me! I don’t know how to do this!” she calls back, frantic, and I step into the kitchen to see her staring at the phone. “I saw your message, but I don’t know how this works! Please, don’t be mad at me! I just don’t know―”
I just grab her and crush her against me. God, it’s been a crazy day! “It’s okay, baby,” I whisper to her. I can feel her relaxing a little. “It didn’t occur to me that you don’t know about texting. I’ll teach you.”
“I’m so sorry, Master Lucien. I should’ve―”
“Nonsense. My fault entirely. And I think we both need to unwind. Let’s order food delivered and just sit and try to take a deep breath, okay?”
I feel her nod against my chest, and I can’t turn loose. All I want is to hold her and know she’s okay. Then I hear her whisper something. “What, Precious?”
“I found your note. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Did you get your art supplies taken care of?”
“Yes, sir. I think you’ll be pleased. Come see.” She pulls back from me, takes my hand, and leads me down the hallway.
Sure enough, there’s stuff everywhere, but when I look a little more carefully, I notice that all the drawing things are together and all the painting things are separate from them. There are also some items I don’t recognize and a big square of something. “What’s that?”
“That’s an air-dry clay and some tools for working with it.”
“You sculpt?”
“I want to try. I don’t know if I’ll be any good, but the stuff didn’t cost a lot and I figured it was worth a shot. Maybe I shouldn’t have―”
“Nonsense. I want you to expand your horizons, so that’s fine. Why not give it a try? I’m interested in seeing what you come up with!” But none of that matters. What matters is that, standing there in the midst of all those art supplies, she looks genuinely happy. That’s worth everything I’ve been through today. “Did you look at storage ideas?”
“Yes, sir. I found some good ones too. Can we look at them later? I’m hungry!”
“Sure. Let’s order something. Come help me choose.” I lead her back to the kitchen, then reach into the wine rack. “And let’s have a glass of wine. I think we’ve both earned it.” As soon as I’ve poured them, I raise mine. “To us and our ongoing relationship. May we always look to each other for strength and comfort.”
“Hear, hear!” she says and laughs.
Dinner is eaten, the kitchen cleaned up, more wine consumed, and she shows me her art supply storage options o
nline before we head off to bed. My hands ache for her loveliness, for the body I’m trying to build up after another man tried to destroy it. There’s no rushing, no frantic clawing, just two people giving to each other and getting what they need in return. I make sure the orgasm I give her is slow and steady, and in return, she opens like a flower and welcomes my manhood home inside her. It’s like a well-choreographed ballet, and we’re the stars. My own release slips out with a groan, a long-lasting thing I milk for all I’m worth. We roll together to our sides and my hand reaches up to smooth a strand of hair behind her ear. “Master Lucien?”
“When we’re here in this bed, unless I tell you differently, I’m just Lucien. You’re just Rayanna, my precious girl. This is our safe spot, baby.”
She gives me a soft, sexy smile. “You’re the first man I’ve made love with, Lucien. Ever.”
I’m proud and terrified at the same time. “It makes me very happy to know that.”
“Good. Oh, and your note? It made me feel like … like I was important to somebody. Like somebody cares about me.”
“I do.”
“I know.” Tucking her head into my chest, she sighs. “I think I’m happier here than anywhere I’ve ever been. If Carly were here with me, I’d be the happiest person in the whole world.”
“Maybe someday.” I start to say something else, but I feel her go limp and I know she’s drifted off. I’m glad. She’s had a very, very rough day and she needs some rest.
Tomorrow is a new day. And Ted and I have a lot to talk about.
* * *
We have a late breakfast before we go to her session. With the car parked in a space near the door of Ted’s office, I turn to Rayanna. “Today we need to talk to Ted about coping mechanisms for you so if what happened yesterday happens again, you’ll know how to deal with it.”
Her head drops. “Are you angry with me?”
“No, babe. But I am upset by how terrified you were. We need to find a way to make sure that doesn’t happen again.
“I can never go anywhere by myself again,” she mumbles.
“No, that’s not an answer to the problem. There are ways for you to cope, and we need to talk about them. Nobody’s angry or upset with you. I just don’t want to see you upset.”
“Okay.” It’s almost like she doesn’t believe what I’m saying, but I know talking about what happened will be very emotional for her. All the more reason to figure out what to do next time.
Ted is all smiles when he opens the door to his office, and I feel hopeful. “So, how are things going?”
“Things are going good. At least I think they are. Rayanna?”
She nods. “Yes. They are. I’m very happy with Master Lucien.”
“Good, good. Anything we specifically need to talk about?” he asks, and that’s our cue.
“Rayanna, you should tell Dr. Lawrence what happened yesterday.”
She balks a little, but I give her what I hope is a reassuring smile. “Well,” she starts, then launches into the whole story. Ted doesn’t stop her, just lets her talk. She finishes with, “And it was horrible, and I don’t want to go anywhere by myself again.”
“You know that’s not realistic, right?” Ted asks and I’m relieved.
“But―”
“Everyone needs to be able to act autonomously. That’s Lucien’s goal for you, to let you become independent and unafraid so you can function in society.”
“So you won’t have to be responsible for me anymore,” she adds, her head dropping again.
“That’s not at all what we’re talking about, babe. We’re talking about you getting a driver’s license, taking yourself to the store and to get your hair done and things like that. I mean, do you really want Olivia or Trish or Sheila or Melina to have to drive you around for the rest of your life if you want to go somewhere and I can’t go?”
“Do they not want to drive me? Because if they don’t, I won’t ask any of them. I don’t want to be a burden,” she whispers.
“That’s not it, honey. They don’t mind―now. But as time goes by, they’re going to wonder why you don’t get a license and take yourself places. I mean, wouldn’t you like to get a job of your own and earn your own money?”
“I can take the bus.”
“Do you know how much of your earnings would go to taking the bus every day as opposed to us getting you a car? A lot. You wouldn’t have much left.”
“Lucien’s right,” Ted interjects. “Being able to drive yourself would be a good thing.”
“And when Carly’s back with you and she needs to go somewhere, don’t you think it would be good if you could drive her? And take her without someone else having to go with you?”
“But she’d be with me.”
I shake my head. “Depending on your little girl to be your safety net isn’t a very good idea, at least not in my thinking.”
“Lucien’s right,” Ted points out. “Not a good idea.”
“So, Dr. Lawrence,” I say, putting him on the hot seat, “do you have any ideas for things we could do to help Rayanna be calmer when she’s alone in public? To maybe not panic or imagine she’s seeing someone she doesn’t want to see?”
“Sure. There are some techniques you can learn pretty quickly that will help. Let’s go over some of them, and then you need to practice them at home.” As we watch and listen, he talks to her about counting to five while holding her breath, then releasing it slowly. Then there’s the peekaboo approach―putting her hands over her eyes, counting to three, and opening them so she can see the threat isn’t really there. We talk about the old snapping the rubber band on the wrist, and then he mentions an anti-anxiety medication. She’s not open to that at all. “But do you think you could work on some of the ones we’ve talked about?”
She nods. “Yes. I think so.”
“Good.” He puts down his clipboard and sits back in his chair. “Now we’ve got to talk about something that I really don’t want to discuss.” We both wait until he seems to settle in his stance and is ready to speak. “I was going to call your sister and the social worker this afternoon if things seemed okay and ask if you could see Carly for a little while.”
“And I messed up with what happened yesterday,” she whispers and starts to cry.
“No, no! Nothing like that. Rayanna,” he says, but she’s still sobbing. “Rayanna, look at me.” When she finally lifts her face, his is as grim as I’ve ever seen a human countenance. “I got some news this morning. Not necessarily bad, but not necessarily good, and definitely something you won’t want to hear.” I reach over and take her hand, wondering what bomb he’s about to drop. “I got word from the court this morning. Connor Bacchus has his second appearance Friday morning.”
“That means nothing to us except that she’ll be safe,” I say with all the confidence I can muster.
“That may be, but I think you should be there, Rayanna. You need to look him in the eye and let him know he hasn’t ruined your life, that you’re working to rebuild it and he can’t take that away from you.”
“Oh, no. No, I can’t do that.” Her hand is trembling in mine, and my heart breaks for her. “No, I can’t see him. I don’t want to be around him. He’s dangerous.”
“He’ll be in handcuffs and shackles, accompanied by armed officers. He can’t hurt you. But it’s your chance to see him weak and pathetic and let him know that you’re strong and moving forward.”
“Could somebody just tell him that for me? So I don’t have to go? Please, I don’t want to see him. Please?” She turns to me. “Please, Master Lucien? Please don’t make me go.”
“I think it would be good for you to be there, to walk in and walk out and leave him behind at the mercy of the court. I agree with Dr. Lawrence, Precious. You need to do this.”
“But I can’t! I’m not that strong! Oh, god, please don’t make me see him! I just can’t,” she says and dissolves into a weeping, crumpled mess.
“I’ll be with you. And I be
t Dr. Lawrence will come too, won’t you?” I say, leaving him no wiggle room to worm his way out.
“I hadn’t planned to be … um … Yes, sure. I’ll be there if you like,” he says when I give him the stink eye.
“I don’t want anybody to be there. I don’t want to be there. But if I have to go, I want people to go with me.”
“Then you’ll have people to go with you,” I tell her, and I mean it. I’ll call the whole gang and ask them to come. They will if they can.
“I can’t go any other way. If everyone’s not with me, I’ll be too scared,” she says again, still shaking.
Ted smiles. “No need to be scared. And once we get this past us, I’ll call Reagan and the social worker and see what I can do. But you’ve got to make this effort, Rayanna. Otherwise, I don’t believe you’re far enough along to see Carly.”
“I am! I promise! Tell him, Master Lucien! Tell him I’m strong enough!” she cries out.
“Let’s see how Friday goes, okay? But you know I’m going to advocate for you seeing her. I think the two of you should spend time together.” I smooth her hair and stare down into her eyes. “It’s going to be okay, I promise. You’ll see.”
Her voice is a tiny squeak when she answers, “I’m so scared.”
“You’ll be fine, babe. You’ll be with me.” I suppose I’d better get that pistol like Ted suggested. If Connor Bacchus is released on Friday by some freak circumstances, I need to be ready. I can’t imagine he could be.
But stranger things have happened.
* * *
“I’ll be back in a couple of hours. You’ll be fine.” I run my finger down her cheek and smile. “Get a nap and when I get back, we’ll talk about what we’re going to do for dinner before I have to go to the next appointment.”
“Okay, sir. I hope your appointments go okay.” She snuggles down into the pillow on my big bed and I lean down to plant a little kiss on her forehead. Maybe she’ll feel better when I get back.
The first appointment is going quite well. They’re a company from Sri Lanka, a tea producer, and they’re looking for a place in the states to use as a hub to ship across the nation. We’re almost finished looking at the property, one that will be perfect for their use, and my phone rings. It’s a number that’s unfamiliar, so I excuse myself to answer it.