Healing the Wounds (17 page)

Rolling to the edge of the bed, she spied him through the sliding glass door. Henry occupied a chaise near the edge of the deck, a closed sketch pad tucked beside him. “How long?”

“About an hour.” Jay stroked her back. She rolled toward him until they lay face-to-face with their arms draped across each other’s hips. Comfort, not desire, drew them together. Henry’s moods rippled through the entire relationship.

“You haven’t—”

“Tried to coax him back to bed?”

She nodded, and Jay shook his head.

When Henry was pleased with them, she and Jay magnified his joy. But when he was torn, his absence and distraction left Jay anxious and needy and her worried and maternal.

“I think it needs to be you this time.” Jay drew tight circles on her skin. “If we’re thinking the same thing.”

She pressed her lips together. Jay might not be ready or even want to be. She’d pushed herself to model openness and share her uneasiness because Henry expected it and Jay needed her example, but his pain ran so much deeper. She carried a pebble in her shoe. Jay bent his back under a mountain.

“Alice?” He ducked his head. His breath tickled her throat. “I won’t let you down again.”

She clutched him tighter, flattening her breasts against his chest and pressing her mouth to his ear. “You’ve never disappointed me, Jay.” Both of her lovers held themselves to impossible standards. “We agree he wouldn’t still be thinking about it if the decision was an easy one, right?”

Jay bumped her shoulder with his nod.

“And the easy decision in Henry’s mind is whatever is best for us, right?”

Another nod.

“Which means he wants to take the not-easy option and accept Emma’s offer to teach. But he’s punishing himself for even thinking about it.”

“Exile. He’s out there brooding.”

“Because he wants something he thinks will be bad for us.” Jay’s hum of agreement vibrated against her throat, and she shivered. “But we agree it’ll be good for us, right? To confront the situation? Make it something positive?”

“I’m…afraid, a little. But not like I was. I know what Cal did was wrong. And how he treated you. He’ll do it again.” Jay clutched her hip and breathed out, hard. “I dunno how many people got hurt ’cause I refused to speak up years ago. But I…I want to now.”

She kissed him, a firm press on his cheekbone in front of his ear. Tried to buy herself time to work out how Henry would coax Jay to share more. “Why now, sweetheart?”

“You know I don’t like being in control.” Fidgety fingers tapped at her ribs. “But this is different. I should be able to give up control only when
I
want to. When it’s safe. To Henry. To you.”

The depth of his trust woke remnants of terror in her blood. He depended on her.

“When I saw Cal again, it was like I gave up control when I didn’t want to. I couldn’t stop it. I need—” He cleared his throat, and his voice strengthened. “I need that control back. Helping other subs is a good place to start. Isn’t it?”

“You’re the bravest man I know, Jay.” Henry had fostered this bond between them for months. His careful crafting had created a place for her in this relationship, one allowing her to give and accept love, one allowing Jay to reveal more than the charming surface comedian. “And I think it’s the perfect place to start.”

His breath whooshed out. “Good. Then you’ll go convince Henry to do what he wants, because we’re both ready for it. I mean—shit. You are, too, right? If you’re not, that’s okay. You don’t have to be just ’cause—”

“I am, Jay. You’re not pressuring me. But what makes you think he’ll listen to me and not you?”

A bitter chuckle broke from Jay’s throat. “Because I’m a liar.”

“Bullshit.” She pulled back and stared him straight in the face. Cringing self-hatred twisted him in unnatural lines. “You’re as honest as he is.”

“You didn’t hear me promising him I could handle it. I begged for weeks. He was gonna take you to the club alone, you know. I told him no, I was absolutely ready. That I’d gotten so far these months with your example. That staying home would be spinning my wheels.”

Okay, he’d overestimated on his self-assessment, but he hadn’t lied. Henry would understand the difference.

“I hounded him day and night. Told him
I’d
be good for
you
. Like a guide in case you got nervous. An example. And then I fucking lost it, and you had to save me. After I promised I’d be fine. He won’t trust me now. He can’t trust me now.”

Fuck. This conversation wasn’t one he needed to have with
her
. She rubbed his back. “You’re gonna have to tell him that.”

“What, I fucked up?” He laughed, and his gaze slid away from hers. “I think he knows.”

“No, sweetheart.” Cupping his cheek, she waited until he looked at her without immediately looking away. “That you’re afraid he won’t trust you. It’s affecting your mood, eating away at you, and it’ll attach itself to the rest of the pain if you let it. And that’ll make Henry’s job harder, won’t it?”

Jay closed his eyes and mumbled.

“What, sweetheart?”

“I said you two really do think scary-alike sometimes.”

“Good.” She leaned in and kissed him, hard and controlling. “Twice as much love and attention for you.”

He hummed. “Like catching nothing but green lights on a crosstown run.”

She giggled. “Let’s hope we get a green light from Henry.”

She slipped out of bed, Jay whistling as she crossed the room naked. Bathroom first, a quick stop. She paused beside the bag Henry’d packed for her. They hadn’t bothered unpacking last night. He might’ve included pajamas and a robe for lounging. But the house was isolated, the lot wooded. The lake access lay down a set of stairs in the hillside.

“Need a kiss for luck?” Jay scrambled onto his knees at the edge of the bed, as naked as she, and dropped into his waiting pose. A comfort. Somehow Henry had trained their fidget-prone boy to let go of anxiety and find peace in this stillness. He’d be here. Waiting.

“I always need a kiss.” Stepping close, she pushed his hair back and proffered a gentle kiss. Sweet. “I don’t have any idea how long this will take.”

He smirked. “Good thing I know how to wait.”

She breathed in Jay-scented courage and slipped out the sliding door. The air held the morning’s chill despite the warm sunshine flooding her face. She shivered, her steps quick across boards beginning to retain heat. “Henry?”

“Is your delightful nudity an attempt to distract me from my thoughts?” He stretched out his arm, lifting the blanket across his lap with his opposite hand, and pulled her down. He hadn’t bothered to dress, either. An excellent start. “A none-too-subtle hint that you’re feeling neglected?”

He tossed the blanket over them both and cuddled her close, pressing his face to her neck and inhaling.

“Mmm. Not distract.” God, his lap was comfortable. If anyone was doing the distracting here, it was him. “Clarify.”

“Oh?” He danced his fingers down her spine and rested his hand at the top of her ass.

Fuck subtlety. Henry appreciated honesty, and Jay was waiting. “You’re conflicted about Emma’s proposal. Jay and I aren’t.”

“Because you rightly understand the two of you deserve my full attention?” He stroked her bare back with slow, steady sweeps.

“Because we rightly understand your desire to help newcomers at the club and stop a predator. Because we share it.”

“You want me to do this.” He defied interpretation, his face and his voice flat and neutral.

She threw herself into the breach. “We want you to do what you think is best. We just want you to have all of the information you need to decide that.”

“Namely, that the two of you feel comfortable returning to the club despite the disastrous, traumatizing experience you had merely two weeks ago.” Skepticism dangled from every word.

She didn’t blame him. A week ago, Jay had been shaking and crying in their bed, and she’d been shying from contact. “I think we have to. Even if it’s not comfortable. Especially then.” She needed proof stronger than words. If she explained her certainty to Henry, he’d understand.

“When I was sixteen, I went to a haunted house with my girlfriends. A community-theater fund-raiser thing. Safe Halloween fun. But one of the guys playing a monster grabbed me. Copped a feel.” The groping had seemed to go on forever, though it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds before her horrified paralysis had given way to reaction.

“I was so angry. The night was supposed to be fun, not disgusting and scary. I rammed my elbow into his gut.” The guy’s pained groan and the way his hands had dropped from her chest to grab his stomach still made her cheer inside. “And then again in his face when he bent over. Monday at school, I saw a guy in my English class. We ran in different crowds, but I still knew him, you know? He had a black eye. His buddies were ragging on him, asking if he’d groped a guy by mistake.”

The sick, angry feeling had swarmed like a cloud of bees, stinging her throat.

“I marched over and almost punched him again to see if I could make his eyes match, and I told him he ought to keep his hands to himself.” Maybe he’d learned the lesson. Maybe not. “It was awkward, seeing him and knowing he saw nothing but a set of boobs to grab. But I think that’s what we need now—me and Jay both—to reclaim that control. To act instead of feeling like victims.”

Henry laid a hand on her hair and kissed her head. “Yes. You do. And you make a lovely argument for it, though I wonder why I’m only hearing of it
now
.” His voice dropped to a low demand. “Why wasn’t this experience included in your contract answers, Alice?”

“I—where?”

“Did you or did you not answer ‘no’ to the question of whether you’d experienced sexual violence?” His hold barely allowed her ribs space to expand.

“It wasn’t—I haven’t thought of it in years. I didn’t let him control how I felt about it. I wasn’t hurt, Henry. His touch wasn’t anything more than a rough grope through my shirt.”

“And Cal never touched you at all, but you wouldn’t deny that his harassment and bullying is a form of sexual violence, would you? It’s certainly one that has left a strong impression on your mind.” He stroked her hair. “Touched or not, you were assaulted both times nonetheless, my sweet girl. You might have responded to our games in a way I could not have predicted. I might have harmed you for lack of information. You
cannot
withhold such details from me.”

He whispered in her ear as he tucked strands of hair behind it. “Particularly not as we’ll be spending a good deal of time at the club in the coming weeks. I must be able to predict your responses.”

“We’ll be—” Her mind took a moment to catch up. “You’d already decided.” She pushed back, lifting her face from his neck and meeting his steady gaze. “Before I came out here this morning. You were waiting to see if we’d try to convince you.”

“To see how committed you are to the idea, yes. To gauge the depth of your avoidance after the progress we made last week. Haven’t I always encouraged you to confront fears and desires openly when you’re ready?” He glanced toward the sliding glass door, which hadn’t moved since she’d closed it. “I note Jay didn’t accompany you on this little ambush. Did you draw the short straw?”

They’d had him all wrong. Rather than punishing himself or playing the overprotective dominant, Henry had been waiting on them to recognize their need and come to him on their own. To ask for it. “How long would you have waited?”

“As long as I needed to.” He caressed her cheek with sliding knuckles. “Had you been unable to approach me with the idea, you also would have been unable to follow through and return to the club, where you’ll certainly be forced to confront the emotions surrounding the event.”

“You would’ve prodded us forward at home, though.” Doing nothing wasn’t his style. He constantly assessed the materials at hand, tested their weak points, and found ways to reinforce the overall structure. “Like you’ve been doing with Jay.” He might call his work artistry, but the method was all engineering. “Using scenes that introduced me to new things and helped him confront his fears.”

“I want you both healthy and happy.” He pulled her closer, tucking her sideways in his lap and clasping his arms around her. “There’s no timetable for that, Alice. No deadline you must meet.” He brushed kisses over her face. “I won’t grow tired of you. Nor of Jay. Whatever you need, I will provide.”

“Jay’s afraid.” She blurted the words before overthinking could stop her. “That’s why I’m the one out here convincing you of something you didn’t need to be convinced about.”

Henry stilled in midkiss. Neither a sigh nor a whimper, the soft hitching in his breath conveyed the same pain.

“He feels like he lied to you.” Might as well get it all out. “But he didn’t. I mean, I know he didn’t mean to. Not any more than I meant to in the contract questions.”

“He feels guilty.” Henry relaxed.

She relaxed with him. She’d done right to mention Jay’s problem, even if Henry’d already been aware.

“Something he desired so badly turned out so disastrously, and he’s quite conditioned to blame himself in such cases.”

“He thinks you won’t trust him.”

“Then we shall find more ways to show him what a wonderfully trustworthy boy he is. Starting now.” He scooped her in his arms and stood, leaving the blanket to fall to the deck at their feet. “He’s waited long enough to hear the outcome of your quest, don’t you suppose?”

* * * *

Henry circled the bed. Nude. Yummy. “A bit of fun to celebrate seems in order.”

True to form, Jay’d been in his waiting pose when Henry carried her in and settled her beside him. Told him they’d return to the club in time. Skipped the lengthy explanation and said nothing of her confession or his intention to foster Jay’s self-confidence.

“An activity I’m certain you’ll appreciate, my boy.”

Jay didn’t need to hear those things, not like she did. For him, knowing Henry had made the decision was enough.

“Alice has a very talented mouth, wouldn’t you say?”

If a full-body nod counted as a yes, Jay didn’t need to speak.

“We wouldn’t want her to lose her talent for a lack of practice, would we?”