Before Him Comes Me (23 page)

“What is this again?” Branden asks as he helps himself to
his third helping at brunch.

“Egg bake,” Zara, Garrett and Viv all say in unison.

“Shit. B, she’s told you like three times. Ask her for the
recipe and get it over with,” Viv exclaims. “Sucks not being the best cook in the
room… doesn’t it.”

“Branden, the recipe is very easy. I would be happy to write
down how to prepare it,” Zara offers as she stands up from the table. “Can I
get anyone anything while I am up? Viv, more hot water for tea?”

“I’m good. Thanks, Zara.”

Garrett eats the last bite off his plate and leans back. Viv
asks him, “What did we miss for dinner last night?”

“Lasagna.”

“I definitely have her beat on Italian,” Branden says
confidently.

Garrett gets up from the table without a word and goes to
the kitchen. Getting the lasagna out of the refrigerator, he shakes his head at
Zara who tries to hand him a pan to warm up a small portion.

“I’m going to use the microwave.”

“It will taste better if you allow me to heat it slowly in
the oven,” Zara replies.

“For this, it isn’t even going to matter.”

Returning to the table with lasagna in hand, Garrett places
plates in front of Viv and Branden. He stands at the head of the table proudly
watching the two of them trying Zara’s dish as if he spent all day making it
himself. As each of them enjoys their first bites, Garrett’s smile grows wider.

“DAMN IT!”

“WOW! Sorry, brother. Zara kicked your ass in the lasagna
department,” Viv says taking another bite. “Zara, this is delicious. Can you
teach Branden how to make this as well?”

“Hey!” Garrett snarls. “Family secret.”

“Dude, we are family. Shut up,” Branden retorts.

“Oh yeah.”

“I know everyone is thinking it so I am going to be the one
to ask… what’s for dinner, Zara?” Branden asks and all eyes turn toward Zara.

“Since there is a strict rule about how much time can be
spent in the kitchen when someone is home, we are having pork tenderloin.”

Branden leans toward Zara and asks, “What kind of dumbass
rule is this that you speak of? Certainly not on Christmas Day!”

“My rule. Problem?” Garrett asks menacingly.

Viv hops up and picks up her dishes. “Zara, let’s get this
all cleaned up. Game time.”

Zara is on her feet in an instant and moves quickly to begin
clearing the table.

As Zara finishes wiping the table, Branden walks out to his
car to get an armload of board games. Garrett walks into the kitchen and wraps
his arms around Zara. She leans into him, enjoying their moment. Hearing
Branden coming back into the house, Garrett kisses Zara behind the ear and
walks toward the dining table. He gives Viv a one-armed hug as he passes by her
standing by the entryway.

      Zara, following a few steps behind Garrett, looks up
at Viv. She cannot help but return the big smile being flashed to her from her
friend.

      Today is a good day.

      The rest of the afternoon is spent playing games and
laughing around the table. Zara is crowned the victor of almost every game of
Jenga played. Garrett uses her new camera flash to break her concentration and
everyone laughs as the pieces tumble. Finally, Branden begs for mercy declaring
the smell of dinner has become unbearable and they break to eat.

After dinner, Zara busies herself as the best friends turned
family bicker with each other about everything from Christmases past to the upcoming
bowl game that the great Spartans are sure to win. Moving at a comfortable but
steady pace, it does not take her long before the meal is put away and dessert
is neatly displayed.

Though Garrett’s and Branden’s homes are vastly different,
open floor plans with the kitchen and dining room allow whoever is preparing
the meal to easily take part in the conversation. In this case, Zara is happy
to be listening. Her smile stretches further across her face with each fit of
laugher that comes from the table.

Garrett wanders into the kitchen as Zara gathers the last of
the silverware needed for the dessert. “Little One, need some help?”

“Thank you. You can carry the cake.”

With a twinkle in his eye, Garrett lifts the multi-layer
round cake and walks to the table. Placing it directly in front of Branden,
Garrett slowly turns the cake so both Viv and Branden can see all sides of it. Zara
sets the plates, folks and napkins on the table and gives Garrett a look.

“What?” he asks innocently.

“I am positive Branden’s cakes are just as good as mine.”

Always one to stir the pot, Viv gleefully chimes in, “Let’s
cut into this work of art and see.”

“Does anyone want coffee or tea with their cake?” Zara asks
before handing Garrett the knife.

“G, we’re staying here tonight. So we’ll have drinks after
the taste test,” Viv declares. “Cake first.”

Zara places the knife into Garrett’s waiting hand. All eyes
are on the cake as he makes the first cut and slides the knife through the four
layers of cake and frosting. When the first piece hits the plate, she remembers
the ice cream. She goes to get it and finds Garrett is gone when she returns to
the table.

Once her guests have their cake and ice cream, she makes a
plate for Garrett. Not big on ice cream in this weather, Zara returns the ice
cream to the freezer. She smiles at Viv’s comments to Branden about the cake
being far superior to his last attempt.

Just as Zara takes her first bite of cake, Garrett walks
back in the room.

“Guys, I need to talk to Zara.” He takes Zara by the hand
and leads her toward the den, away from his friends.

Zara stiffens at his strong grasp on her hand, wondering
what is amiss.

Over his shoulder, Garrett says, “Branden, I need you to
make a couple of calls and wake some people up now. Intel is on your phone. Viv,
check your phone too.”

Garrett walks past the den into his bedroom.

Something is off. Why is he not looking at me? Why is he
bringing me to his room?

Zara sits on the edge of the bed as requested. She takes a
deep breath when he kneels in front of her and takes both of her hands in his.

He pauses, staring at their hands woven together.

Something is wrong. What did I do? Have I displeased him?

The lack of eye contact leaves her searching the top of his
head in hopes that he will look up and meet her gaze.

When Garrett finally does reward her with eye contact, she
realizes the magnitude of the problem.

In a clear but quiet voice, Garrett begins to shed light on
the situation.

“I have some very sad news to tell you.” He paused. “This
morning at about 11am, your mother passed away. I just received a call from my
dad and I do not have all the details for you yet. I am sorry. I do know it was
cancer.”

Zara whispers in disbelief, “My mother passed away?”

My mother passed away.

“Branden is arranging a flight. I will get you down there as
quickly as possible. You are in a unique situation, as you are not collared. Therefore,
you have every right to return home and participate in the services without
seeking permission. Zara, your father is not happy with the thought of you
returning to the house. The suggestion was made for us to stay at a hotel, but
he indicated that would be a further embarrassment for him. I have not spoken
to him directly…”

My mother passed away.

“Little One, are you hearing me?”

Zara nods.

“How did she die?”

Garrett wipes the tears away that have started to slide down
Zara’s cheek. He softly answers, “It was cancer. I’m sorry, I don’t have any more
details at the moment.”

My mother is gone. I never fixed things between us. She never
knew–

“Zara Faith, your father is not going to allow Fredrik to
interact with you. He has put his foot down on this. I am so sorry. You will
see him at the service but that will be all.”

Zara is quiet for a moment. “Garrett, would it be okay if I
lay down? I know that we have guests–”

“I think they will understand. Why don’t you lay in my bed
for now.”

My mother passed away. 

Waking in Garrett’s arms, Zara feels warm and safe and does
not move right away. She breathes him in and focuses on the place where their
bodies meet, his arms across her shoulder, his thigh touching hers. She opens her
eyes to find his are staring back with concern. In that moment, the horror of her
reality comes rushing back.

“My mother,” Zara whimpers, unable to get more words out.

Her eyes close as the renewed pain morphs into racking sobs
muffled against Garrett’s chest. He makes no attempt to move, just continues
rubbing her back waiting for the pain to ease.

As the tears begin to subside, Zara pulls back but Garrett
catches her face between his hands and searches her eyes. “There is my
beautiful Zara Faith.”

New tears begin to cascade from Zara’s eyes. She does not speak
and focuses on Garrett, clutching at the strength behind his eyes.

*****

Hours later, the monotony of tires over pavement has not
soothed Zara’s broken heart. Tears continue to course down her cheeks as
Garrett holds her close.

“I am so sorry, Zara.” He holds her tighter and Zara wrap her
hands around his neck. “I am right here. I am not letting you go.”

Tears of exhaustion take over.

*****

Zara awakens to familiar smells. Blinking her eyes open,
Zara discovers she is in her old bedroom at her parent’s house.

“Motherrrr!” Zara screams at the top of her lungs. “Motherrr.
MOTHERRRRR!”

Garrett runs into the bedroom and flies onto the bed next to
Zara. He picks her up from where she lies and cradles her in his arms.

“Shhh… I have you. Little One, shhhhhh.”

“Garrett, my mother is dead. I didn’t get to say goodbye. I didn’t
tell her I loved her. I didn’t tell her I was sorry for not getting collared.”

He nods and places an open bottle of water to Zara’s lips.
He instructs her to drink and they sit together until she finishes the entire
bottle. Then he tells her to go take a shower and brush her teeth.

“I will be right here when you are finished. You can climb
right back in bed. I promise.”

On autopilot, Zara gets off his lap and walks into her old
bathroom. She turns on the shower, undresses and stands vacantly under the
water. Tears mix with water and run down her face.

At some point, Zara realizes the water was turned off for her
and a towel had been wrapped around her. She is guided numbly out of the shower
and dried off. When a big tee shirt is slid over her head, Zara smells Garrett.

He lifts her and carries her to the bed, gently lying her
down and covering her up. He does not say anything as he lies down next to her
and wraps her in his arms.

The tears that had begun hours earlier continue in silence.

I cannot believe that she is gone. I cannot believe she died
before I could make things right. I didn’t get to tell her how important she is
to me. We just never talked. I am so sorry, Mother.

Garrett says nothing, letting Zara live this horrible
moment.

Zara recalls the conversation she had with her mother the day
of the Ceremony. She had said that Garrett was the one and that Zara needed to
trust the traditions and, more importantly, trust herself. Trust herself. At
the time, the words went in one ear and out the other.

Zara had been moments from the walk up the white carpet to her
new life. She had not understood what her mother was saying and did not
question it either. It was the last conversation Zara had with her mother.

Zara remembered the look on her face when she stood up with Garrett’s
assistance. Shock had dawned in her eyes that he did not present Zara to the Community
with a new collar. He had not made her his sub and she had walked from the
Circle her own person.

The tears slowed again. Garrett moves to get up but Zara
pulls back with a shake of her head. He just smiles gently and lies back down.

I need you. I need your strength. I need your care. I need your
protection. I just don’t know from what yet.

The room is dark and there is no sound but breathing. Zara
wishes for music. She had gotten used to the sound of music. Music did not care
when school was miles away or when the beach was not near. Music crossed all
barriers.

With clear eyes, Zara looks around. This is her parents’
home. This is no longer her bedroom. She realizes she hadn’t looked around to see
what had been changed in the months since her departure. It occurs to her that
she no longer cares. Her home was miles from this place.

After some time, Garrett whispers for Zara to close her
eyes. She is not looking at anything in particular so it does not matter if her
eyes are open or shut. It does not feel any different with them open. It does
not feel any different with them closed. Either way, Zara’s mother is gone.

Zara feels Garrett stir. She opens her eyes and is surprised
to find the room is light again. He is sitting next to her on the edge of the
bed and in his hands is something she never thought she would see again. Garrett
is holding her favorite mug, a gift she had received for Christmas years ago
from Fredrik.

When Zara had opened the present, he had said she should
have a bigger mug so she would not have to keep getting up to refill it. He had
been twelve when he gave her the mug. It had been a proud moment for him. Later,
Mother had explained that he had saved his allowance for quite some time to be
able to purchase the gift. She had even offered to give him the money, but he
proclaimed this was his gift to his sister so he would pay for it himself. Zara
had loved it when she opened the box and loved it more after hearing the story
behind it.

Zara does not want to drink any coffee. She does not want to
eat any food. She wants to hold that mug in her hands again and go back to that
time, a time when her mother was present.

A time when she is talking.

“Drink… please. I need for you to eat something,” Zara took
the mug but did not drink.

He reaches behind her and brings out package of crackers and
works them open. Zara wants to shake her head no but does not have the
strength. A cracker is put to her lips.

It is the worry in Garrett’s eyes that parts Zara’s lips and
she takes the cracker he places on her tongue. The relief that shows in his
eyes is worth the thump she feels in her stomach.

As the cracker dissolves in her mouth, Zara remembers the
last meal she had prepared in this house with her mother. One of the aspects of
her training was to learn to cook.

Two nights before the Ceremony, Zara was to make dinner for
the family by herself. She was moody. Her mother came to her room twice to tell
her to begin the preparations. It was unusual for anyone to not jump when told
to do something in that house because there would be swift repercussions for
insubordination.

The ramification for hesitation was severe. Fredrik and Zara
were never abused. At least they did not think they were abused. Each of their
punishments was different in nature. Zara was isolated, sent off to think about
her actions. In isolation, she would have to kneel in the position that would
become the norm in her future role as a submissive.

Fredrik did not speak of his punishments, but there had been
occasions when Zara could hear him yell out in pain. She knew he was hit, but
she had never asked him about it and he never volunteered any information.

That night Zara was to make her father’s favorite, chicken parmesan
with garlic sauce and lasagna. Both dishes were labor intensive and took effort
for her to recall the ingredients and steps to prepare them.

When she was caught using her phone, Zara attempted to
explain that she was referencing a note to make a portion of the full recipe. Her
mother was furious. Zara knew just how angry she was because during her ranting
of the importance of knowing how to care for your Dom and yourself, her mother’s
acquired southern accent slipped out, something she worked hard at hiding.

That had been the story of Zara and her mother’s
relationship. She was a slave. Zara was the daughter of a King Council member that
would be given to a man who had been selected by a group of men, who, like her
father, knew nothing about her.

Zara looks up to find Garrett is looking out the window deep
in thought. She wipes her cheek on the back of her sleeve and watches him. She
looks at his profile. She loves the way his hair always looks like it is two
weeks after a haircut. She loves the way she can tell what he is thinking by
looking deeply into his eyes. She loves the way he is always there for her, from
the smallest request to getting her down to be with her family during this
horrible time. She loves him.

How is it possible, in the middle of grieving for Mother, that I
can decide that I am madly in love him? I am in love with you, Garrett.

As if sensing her attention, Garrett turns and looks at her.
Finding sadness in his eyes, Zara cannot resist crawling onto his lap to press
as close to him as she can. As he holds her tightly, Zara feels his face press into
her hair.

“Thank you,” Zara says in a clear voice that holds a trace
of sadness but no tears. She feels him nod his head in her hair. “What is it,
Garrett?”

He lifts his head and pulls away from her to stare into her
eyes. A slight smile finds its way across his face. “You said my name. You
never say my name. In fact, you go out of your way to avoid having to call me
anything. Will you say it again… please?”

“I will say it as many times as you ask if you will tell me
what is on your mind, Garrett.” She says his name with a bit of a tilt of her
head. Without thinking, a small smile finds its way to her lips.

The smile on Garrett’s face slips away. “I was sitting here
thinking it is my fault that you and your mother were not speaking. I should
never have gone against the traditions of the Community and offered you a way
out.”

“A way out?” Zara’s eyes fill with water and fresh tears
slide down her face. The tears are not for the passing of her mother, but due
to the realization that Garrett had intended to get out of collaring Zara. On the
same day she figures out she is in love with Garrett, she finds out he does not
want her as his submissive. She tries to flee his lap, but his hold stops her
from going anywhere.

“No, Little One, we are not finished talking. You do not get
to run off because you think you heard something that you did not. I have never
given you any reason to think I do not intend to meet you in that Circle. You
asked me what I was thinking and I was telling you. Please allow me to be as
open with my thoughts and feelings as I hope you are with me.”

Zara sits looking at him. She does not try to move. Instead
she wraps her arms around his neck to remove the distance between them. She holds
Garrett tight knowing she needs him, but more importantly knowing she wants him
too.

There is a soft knock at the door. Garrett unwraps her from
his arms and whispers that he will be right back. She shakes her head and tries
to hold on.

Please. No. Nothing feels worse than when you put me down. Please.
No.

“Zara. I will be right here. I am not leaving you. Let go,
Little One,” he says, his voice firm.

Unwrapping her arms and placing her on the bed, Garrett steps
to the door and opens it. He uses his body to block whoever knocked from seeing
Zara as well as to prevent them from entering their space. Zara blocks out the
conversation. She lies down on the pillow and closes her eyes, not to sleep but
to make sure no part of the world creeps in.

Garrett shuts the door and gets back on the bed. He stretches
out beside her and gathers her into his arms.

“We weren’t close.” Zara’s words make Garrett tense and hold
her even tighter. “The night she told me that you had chosen me, I made her so
angry I thought she was going to strike me. I was a disappointment to her.”

“Little One, you could never be a disappointment to anyone. You
were never a disappointment to her.” Garrett’s words were what anyone would say.
Zara wishes she could believe him but the look she had seen on her mother’s
face at the Circle Ceremony told a different story.

“I always thought I would have time.” A tear slides down
Zara’s cheek. Garrett does not respond. He rubs his hand in a small circle on
her back. Those are the last words Zara can force out. She is no longer
hysterically crying, but instead a steady flow of tears run from one eye over
her nose to her other eye. Garrett does not say anything else. He just gently holds
her and rubs her back.

“I didn’t get to say goodbye,” Zara says sadly.

“Let’s go do that then.” Zara wipes the tears from her face as
Garrett continues, “The service is scheduled for the day after tomorrow. There
is a visitation scheduled for tomorrow. Your father has made all the
arrangements. Your mother is at the funeral home. Let me take you there right
now and you can say goodbye.”

Zara nods feeling light-headed. Garrett stands and pulls a
green pullover sweater from the closet.

“Arms up, Little One.”

Raising her arms, Garrett slips the pullover over Zara’s
head and pulls it down. Zara takes his hands and lets him pull her to her feet.
Garrett leads the way out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

Sitting in a chair next to the window is her father. He
stares outside never turning to acknowledge his daughter or the man holding her
up. Garrett urges Zara to step toward the door. When she looks up into his
face, she sees something that she had never seen before.

Is Garrett angry?

He opens the front door and standing at the curb in front of
a black SUV is the older man who had driven them to the airport the night of
her failed Circle Ceremony. He stands somberly with his hands crossed in front
of him. Garrett leads Zara down the front path to the vehicle where the man
opens the back door.