Fighting Attraction
Page 69

    “She’s a people pleaser,” Damien says. “I saw that when she walked in, and I saw a lot of strength. She was very accepting of what goes on here, which means you have options. I know a sadist whose vanilla wife gets off watching him dish out pain. She sits in on his scenes—play only, no sex—and then they go home and burn up the sheets.” Damien chuckles. “Your sexual preferences don’t have to inform your entire life. I know you got burned in the past, but Penny isn’t Avery. She saw to the heart of you, and she came back for more.”
    My gaze flicks to the room where Sylvia is waiting. “I can’t go back. Not to who I am at the club. Not to who I was in Tennessee. I’ll need to find a way to be both the sadist and the man.”
    “Life isn’t about moving back. It’s about moving on,” Damien says. “But it takes courage. The kind of courage that brings a young English legal assistant into a kinky sex club looking for normal.”
    * * *
    PENNY
    Cut. Don’t cut. Cut. Don’t cut.
    I stare at the green plastic case on my bed. Everything is ready—bandages, disinfectant, blades. My legs are bare. My heart is pounding, and the familiar thrill of fear slides through my veins. All I have to do is pick up the case; close my fingers around the cold, unforgiving steel; press it against my flesh and release the demons. My mouth waters in anticipation of the pain followed by the rush. Release.
    We didn’t want you.
    Worthless, no good…
    No one would want a broken girl like you.
    I pick up the case and pop the lid. Six razor blades glint in the light.
    Promise me. Promise you’ll call if you think about hurting yourself again.
    Jack’s voice wars with the voices of my past. But how can I call him now? I wasn’t enough. Would it really have been so wrong to tell him the truth? Broken people make broken decisions. And I’m too broken to be fixed.
    My phone buzzes on the kitchen counter, but I tune it out. Once I let the darkness take me, I need to be alone.
    Taking a deep breath, I pull out a blade. Adrenaline surges through my body, and my senses sharpen. I feel the scratchy dark towel beneath me. I hear the steady ticking of the clock, the hum of traffic outside, the rasp of my breaths. I taste Jack on my lips, the lingering sweetness of vodka. I inhale and I smell him, the faint fragrance of soap and sex and a hint of vinyl from the massage table at Redemption.
    Was it only a few hours ago I was in Redemption, laughing as he chased me? Moaning as he made me come? His touch lingers on my skin, the rush of our evening together still warms me deep inside.
    “Jack.” His name is as soft on my lips as his flogger was hard on my skin. I could have taken more. Should have taken more. If I had, I wouldn’t need this blade. And yet the craving is not as fierce as it usually is, the monsters not as loud, the need not as strong.
    Not as strong as me.
    I want you to see what I see. I want you to know that you are worth so much more than you got from the people in your life. You are strong. You are brave. You are worth loving, Penny. You are the kind of woman who deserves to have a man on his knees.
    Do I really need this tonight? Do I want it?
    I may not have been enough for Jack, but he showed me there are other ways to deal with the darkness. He has opened my eyes for me.
    With curiously steady hands, I put the blade back into the box. I don’t need this crutch tonight.
    But I do need to find out who is on the goddamn phone.
    * * *
    An hour later, Cora and I are drinking coffee at a small all-night diner that serves breakfast twenty-four hours a day. Despite the fact that it is well past midnight, she had no problem meeting me to talk. Although she knew a few things about my past, she didn’t know everything.
    Now she does. The only thing I haven’t told her about is Jack’s kink, and why I don’t feel the need to self-harm when I’m with him.
    “I don’t know what to say.” Cora toys with the croissant on her plate after I tell her the long story about my father, Adam, Vetch, and the self-harm that has plagued me for so long. Until I met Jack, I had never shared my secrets with anyone except my therapist. But it gets a little easier each time.
    “I knew you’d been through a lot, but I never imagined it was so bad.” She lifts her eyes and meets my gaze. “I admire the hell out of you. You’re a very strong person to be as together as you are after all that. And the cutting thing…if that’s the only fallout from all those abusive relationships, you’ve done better than people I know who have suffered far less.”
    “Can I get you anything else?” The waitress refills our cups, and the aroma of sizzling bacon, fried eggs, and freshly brewed coffee tempts me to order a midnight breakfast. But I’m already on my second piece of chocolate cake, and I know I would be sorry for the feast in the morning. “Just the coffee. Thanks.”
    I turn back to Cora. “You don’t think I’m disgusting or sick or broken?” I didn’t know how Cora would feel after I told her all my secrets, but admiration wasn’t anywhere near the top of the list.
    “No. I knew something was wrong when you’d get all quiet and shut me out. Drove me crazy because I wanted to help you. Now I know, and I’ll be there for you whenever you need me.” She gives up toying with the croissant and takes a big bite.
    Emotion wells up in my throat. “That means a lot to me. Adam twisted everything up in my head. He’d hit me and tell me he was doing it because I clearly liked the pain, and he was giving me what I wanted. He told me I was sick and broken and no one would ever want someone like me.”
    “Except him.” Her lips tighten. “I can’t believe you even spoke to him on the phone. If that bastard ever shows up when I’m around, I won’t be responsible for my actions.” She mocks a few punches in the air. “I’ve learned a lot in jiu-jitsu already. I’ll bet I could take him down.”