Before Him Comes Me (24 page)

“Thank you, Peter.” It is the first time Zara hears Garrett
speak to anyone in what feels like days.

As she steps into the SUV, Zara is surprised to find Mrs.
Dawson inside waiting. Seeing her, Zara burst into tears all over again.

Garrett climbs in and sits beside Zara. Although they sit thigh
to thigh, Zara feels like they are miles apart.

Within a few minutes, they reach their destination.

I am not prepared for this. I have disappointed her. I am not
ready to say goodbye. I never fixed it. I never made it right. I failed my
mother.

The door opens from the outside on Mrs. Dawson’s side.

Garrett takes Zara’s hand and says softly, “Little One, we
can leave whenever you are ready. If you decide you don’t want to go in, that’s
fine too. I’ll be right here waiting for you.”

Suddenly cold, Zara begins to shake all over.

“Hey. Hey. My mom is going to go with you.”

She wraps herself around Garrett as much as possible.

“Please. Don’t leave me. I cannot do this without you,” she
whispers hoarsely.

“Garrett, please bring her inside. She needs you right now. I
will deal with them.”

Garrett opens the door on his side and Zara accepts his
assistance out of the car. Mrs. Dawson stands at the curb and holds out her
arms as Zara approaches.

“Zara Faith, I am so, so sorry for your loss. Aubrey loved
you so much. I know that this is going to be really hard on you, so lean on us.
Allow Garrett and me to be your strength today.”

Garrett wraps his arm around Zara and guides her into the
front entrance of the funeral home.

The inside is dim. It is quiet and smells heavily of
flowers. Chairs are strategically placed in mini sitting areas. The carpet is
thick and absorbs the sounds of their shoes.

Zara knows when they are getting closer because both of the
bodies assisting her tense. Mrs. Dawson releases her and walks through the
double doors that are facing them. Garrett folds Zara into his arms.

“Okay, bring her in. Garrett, I will stay with the Community
after and you may take Zara home.”

With one last tight squeeze, Garrett releases Zara and leads
her through the doors. Straight ahead is a casket. The top is open.

Community women dressed in dark colors sit in the pews. As the
three make their way toward the casket, Zara feels the stares.

Two feet from the end of the aisle and the casket, Zara stops.
She releases Garrett’s hand and steps forward. Keeping her eyes focused on the
floor, Zara steps up to the casket. Taking a deep breath and squaring her
shoulders, she takes the last step to reach the side of the casket.

Atop a pale pink pillow lies her mother.

Mother, you look beautiful. A peach outfit. A favorite of Father’s,
I’m sure. It looks too big.

Looking closely, her mother appears thinner. Her hands had
been crossed on her stomach.

“This is not supposed to happen,” Zara repeats over and over.

Suddenly beside her, Garrett lifts her chin to meet his eyes
and speaks quietly and forcefully. “No. Little One, it was not supposed to
happen. You need to remember one thing: your mother was a wonderful woman and I
know this because of the woman you are. You had her in your life and she spent
as much time as she could getting to know you and teach you what was important
to her. Take that and the fact that she loved you to get through this.”

Zara processes Garrett’s words looking as deeply into his
eyes as she can. She was her mother’s daughter.

Her mother had been a proud woman in her way. To her
husband, she had been the best slave she could be. There was nothing that would
make her waver in her submission to him. As a mother, she took the job of
raising the future to heart every day. Every moment was a teachable one. There
were no off days. There was only progress.

Garrett blurs as Zara’s eyes fill with tears. Zara turns once
again to look at her beautiful mother lying peacefully in her forever bed.

Zara looks around the space that had been her living room
her entire life. Nothing looks the same. Her mother is dead. Her mother. Her
teacher. Her mirror. She is gone. The room would never be the same.

Standing, Zara makes her way to the bathroom to shower. She
feels dirty. It may be the feelings she is experiencing or the fact that she has
been in a church with her mother lying in a casket. She cannot pinpoint why she
needs a shower or if it will even help.

The water pours over her head and down her body.

My body. The body that was to be owned by a chosen Dom. A future
that had been chosen for me. A body that had never really belonged to me until
he released me from my collared future.

Zara turns the handles of the shower to cut the water. She
wraps a towel around her body and another around her gathered hair. Slipping
into a tank top and yoga pants, she grasps her pendant while staring at herself
in the mirror.

The light cast from the bathroom highlights Garrett’s form
in her bed. She flips the light off and pads lightly to the side of the bed. Climbing
under the covers, she can feel the warmth of his body.

Zara stretches and moves closer to him, unable to stand the
thought of space between them.

“Hey, you,” he whispers. She cannot tell if his eyes are
open, but she can tell he is alert. His arm comes around her and Zara nuzzles
into the spoon he has created for her.

“I loved her. I wanted her to be proud of me. I thought that
I would have time to make up for choosing college over the collar. I never
would have stopped the Ceremony if I had known she was not going to be here.

“She taught me to be a submissive. She prepared me to serve
my Dom, you, to the best of my ability. Walking away from that was like
throwing everything she taught me in the garbage. It was like saying I never
wanted to be who she wanted me to be.

“The worst part, I never wanted to become like her. I was
ashamed when she slid to her knees at my father’s command. I hated that her
service to him took priority over us. I hated that she never had a thought of
her own. I hated him for owning her. I did not want to be owned. I was kneeling
in the Circle wishing the whole time that there was a way out.

“This is the day I am going to watch my mother buried.” Zara
stops. She pulls away from Garrett and turns on a lamp.

Zara stands and looks at the dress she would wear to the
church. The question in her mind is not whether or not she likes what had been
selected for her, but whether her mother would approve.

So many of her recent choices had been made without her
thinking about whether she had the approval of her mother. Friends, music,
dancing, even her feelings for Garrett that began to grow the moment he placed
his hand on her shoulder inside the Circle had been made on her own. Zara’s
choice to walk out of the Circle and leave all of her mother’s traditions had
been made by Zara alone.

She considers how her choices were affecting her this day. She
had been home for three days and her father had not spoken a word to her. Fredrik
had not come into her room to check on her or talk about the mother they
shared. Her best friend, Sloane, had turned her back on her.

As her foot hits the last step, Zara realizes there are
people in the house that she had not expected. She hears whispers but is unable
to identify anyone.

Every fiber of her body knows she has no right to seek Garrett’s
strength. There is no collar around her neck, no wedding ring on her finger and
yet he holds her like he realizes he is her lifeline.

“Zara, I cannot imagine what you are going through right
now. You are quieter than I can take. I know that you are working hard to come
to grips with what is happening. The Council is here and your father and I need
to make sure you are ready for that.

“Can you nod for me, Little One? This is part of the day’s
procedures. The Council is here to pay their respects to your mother. She was a
highly respected member of the Community and this is an important part of the service
for her.

“Zara Faith, I do not know what the reaction is going to be
toward you and me. We both made a decision to walk out of the Circle without
completing the Ceremony. I need to ask if you want to go in there or if you would
rather I take you to the church directly.

“I will support your decision whichever it is, but it is
important to me that you understand that I believe that it is your place to go
in there and accept their condolences. But I also do not think you should
accept any negative treatment.”

Wiping Zara’s tears with his fingers, he brings her face to
his and places a soft kiss on each of her eyelids. “I will be by your side no
matter which path you decide.”

Taking a cleansing breath and squaring her shoulders, Zara takes
the handkerchief Garrett offers and dabs the tears away from her eyes. She gives
him a reassuring smile and his slight nod is all the communication they need as
Garrett takes the first step toward the den where the guests have gathered.

With his free hand, Garrett opens the door and walks
through. He says hello as he enters the room, not to any one person but to the
room as a whole. Zara squeezes his hand as he gently pulls her to him. Her eyes
are glued to the floor as her training rushes back instinctively.

The room becomes silent when Garrett and Zara enter. He
leads her down the length of the space to the small sofa under the window and
instructs her to sit. He remains standing next to her on the other side of the
armrest. She looks up at him, almost hearing her mother clear her throat for
taking her eyes off the floor, but today Zara needs to be able to look into Garrett’s
eyes. She requires his strength to get through what is ahead of her.

Zara finds his hand on her shoulder and returns her gaze to
the floor in front of her.

“
Legs crossed at your ankles. Back straight, Zara Faith,
hands in your lap, one on top of the other. Never squeeze your hands together. Your
Dom will want you relaxed at all times. Please pay attention to what I am
telling you, Zara. Your actions reflect on me. I am a reflection of my Master. I
will not allow you to tarnish his image.
”

The memory of her mother directing her sitting position
floods Zara’s thoughts. Breathing as deeply as possible without making Garrett’s
hand move from her shoulder, Zara clears her thoughts. She begins to remember
how the grass felt through her fingers while she sat in the hidden garden. The
different smells of the flowers and the soil and how those smells changed as
the weather changed.

Moments after calming her thoughts, Zara hears the shuffle
of Council members approaching her. Her entire body tenses and Garrett removes
his hand from her shoulder and walks around the sofa to sit next to her. When
he lowers onto the seat, Zara releases a breath she had not realized she was
holding.

Taking her hand off her lap and placing it on his knee, Zara
cannot prevent her eyes from following her hand to Garrett’s knee. He places
his hand over hers and waits. In a matter of moments, a line of polished shoes
crossed in front of Zara and are gone. Nothing could get Zara to raise her eyes
high enough to scan the room.

“Time is a funny thing. When you watch a clock it seems to
slow down before your eyes. And when there is no clock it seems equally slow. Are
you ready to go?” Garrett asks. Zara notes that he did not lower his voice so the
others in the room could not hear him.

Rising from his seat, Garrett holds Zara’s upper arm to
steady her as she rises. “Would you like to make a quick stop before we leave?”

Shaking her head no, Garrett wraps his arm around Zara and
escorts her out of the room. As they reach the threshold, Zara turns to look
back in the room to find she and Garrett are the last to leave.

Condolences had not been given to Zara on the loss of her
mother by any member of the King Council. Her father had not approached her to
see how see was doing. Garrett and Zara had sat in the room with the men who
had paired the two of them and they had not exchanged one word with any of
them.

Realizing this was the last time Zara would be in this
house, her eyes fill with tears but not one tear falls. All the rest of Zara’s
tears today would be saved for saying goodbye to her mother.

Pulling her into his chest, Garrett holds her tightly before
leading Zara out the door to the waiting car.

Peter is wearing a black suit with a black tie. The white of
his shirt is brilliant with the sun high in the sky. As they approach the car,
Zara hears the older man say that he is so sorry for her loss. The thank you
that comes out of her is so weak it surprises her.

Once Garrett is on the seat next to her and the door closes,
Garrett lifts her up onto his lap. As he caresses her back, Zara melts into his
chest and relaxes for the first time since stepping out of the shower.

Finding peace on Garrett’s lap is short-lived as the door is
opened from the outside. Taking a moment to settle her rattled emotions, Zara
exits the car and straightens her dress.

Before Zara can turn around, a familiar set of arms wraps
around her body and draw her in. Feeling her brother’s hug after so long undoes
Zara and her tears flow freely. Turning in his arms, she looks into his tear-filled
face.

Fredrik repeats the same sentence in Zara’s ear, “I am so
sorry. I am so sorry. I am so sorry.”

Knowing no response would sooth his guilt, Zara shakes her
head and holds him tighter.

Zara’s body tenses at the sound of her father’s voice. He speaks
to Fredrik alone, making the displeasure of the emotional outburst of the siblings
clear. Zara releases her brother and steps back with her eyes on the curb.

Without raising her eyes higher than her father’s hands,
Zara sees they are balled into fists on either side of him. She recognizes the
black suit and shoes her father is wearing. He had worn them the last time she
was in his presence.

Unable to stop the sob that overtakes her, Zara places her
hand over her mouth. As hard as she tries, her mother’s training fails her. Continuing
to sob, she realizes that her mother’s training had not failed; rather, she has
failed her mother.

Garrett is close enough to catch her as her knees begin to
buckle. He places his arms around her to draw her close to his body. The
contact gives her the strength to step forward.

As Zara takes a step forward, her father turns and walks back
to the door of the building. Fredrik turns to follow, but pauses to wait for
Garrett and Zara. When they get to the entrance, Fredrik holds the door open so
Garrett does not need to release his sister. As she passes by, Fredrik reaches
out to take Zara’s hand.

Zara hears somber organ music coming from the sanctuary. Her
eyes find her brother’s and he gives her a half smile. It was the same smile he
would give her when they were younger and he would head off to class while she stayed
home to train with her mother.

It is not a smug smile. Rather, it is sympathy for things
not being equal between them. Many times Zara had sat on the floor of her room
and tried to explain to him that it was like that in every family. Boys were
always treated differently than girls.

One night, Fredrik had snuck into her room to check on her.
Zara recalled the first time she had been spanked. She had talked back to her
mother at dinner because she wanted to go to a birthday party being held for
one of the girls in the Community. Her father had placed his fork and knife on
his plate very gently. Quietly, he said “Aubrey” in a tone that both kids knew
would transform their mother.

Without a glance at her daughter who was misbehaving, their
mother placed her utensils on her plate and gracefully slid from her seat at
the table to kneel at her Master’s feet. Verbal communication was not required
between their parents and neither Fredrik nor Zara were prepared for what was
coming next.

Ordered to finish their meal by their father, Zara’s hands
shook with every bite she had to lift to her mouth. She sat at the table with
her brother and father as her mother waited at her father’s side with her head
lowered in perfect submission.

Once the meal was over, Fredrik was ordered to go sit in the
den on the sofa by the window. Standing, her father lifted his slave’s chin and
they stared at one another. Walking by Zara sitting stock still in her seat, he
did not look at her or say anything.

Her mother rose to her feet and came over to where Zara sat and
said, “Zara, your behavior at the table was unacceptable. When you asked if you
could attend the function with Sloane, what did I tell you?”

Looking at her mother with a river of tears running down her
face, “You said I could not go.”

The response was a whisper. Knowing she had behaved poorly,
Zara lowered her head in shame.

“Your actions are a reflection of me and you have made me
look foolish. You will be punished for your actions and then you will clear the
table and do the dishes. Do you understand?”

Zara responded with a slight nod.

“Good. Your father is waiting in the den for you with a
paddle. You will get four swats for tonight’s misbehavior. The number of swats
will be increased each time you misbehave. Now go and receive your punishment.”

Zara searched her mother’s eyes and found sadness in them. The
fact that her behavior had caused her mother to be reprimanded was a difficult concept
for Zara to grasp. “Zara Faith, go now.”

Sliding out of her chair, Zara lowered her eyes as she had
been instructed to do when going to see her father. Walking into the den, Zara
knew that Fredrik was being forced to witness her punishment. Seeing the large
paddle on the sofa next to her father overrode all other thoughts.

Instructed to bend over the coffee table and hold the edge,
the first swat took Zara by surprise. The intense sting was not instant. Split
seconds before the second swat, the burn of the first hit took her breath away.

The intensity of the fourth swat caused Zara to release her
grip on the coffee table and fall forward on it. Annoyed, her father said that
her failure to comply with the instructions she was given should garner her an
additional swat. Already crying hard, Zara’s entire body shook at the
suggestion of being hit again.

Her father did not follow through with a fifth one that
night. He stood and walked out of the room without saying a word to his
daughter.

Not knowing what to do once their father had left, Fredrik
came to Zara’s side and helped her off the table. Being the older sister, Zara
instructed him to go to his room and play with his trains. He gave her a hug
and ran to his room, but not before Zara saw the tears in his eyes that he
tried so hard to hide from her.

After clearing the table, then washing and drying each dish,
Zara had walked slowly to her bedroom. She did not change her clothes. She did
not want the material to brush over her very sore behind. Lying on the bed on
her stomach, Zara released the tears she had been holding in.

It was not long before Fredrik slipped in the door and sat
on the floor next to her bed. He did not speak or cry. He was there to check on
how his older sister was doing and to attempt to come to grips with how their
family functioned.

Once Zara had stopped the crying, he asked her why their
family was like that. At the time, Zara did not have an answer. She told him
that it was how mother and father were raised.

Zara was seven the night that took place. Over the years,
the explanations became more involved. They discussed the fact that Fredrik was
going to be a Dom someday with a submissive of his own and Zara would be a
submissive to her own Dom.

For Zara, stepping into the sanctuary is harder than all of
those difficult conversations with Fredrik combined. The aisle Garrett had
walked her down a day ago feels longer on this trip. Unlike her trip to the Circle
on her birthday, Zara does not attempt to catch a glimpse of anyone as she makes
her way closer to her mother’s casket.

Breathing deeply, Zara uses Garrett as an anchor and takes
one step after the other. Like déjà vu, Zara finds herself behind her father. So
much had changed since the last time she followed him down an aisle.

Zara waits as her father and brother pay last respects to
her mother. Garrett leans his cheek on Zara’s head and they stand together as
one until her time comes to say her final goodbye.

As Zara’s only two living family members leave the side of
her mother’s casket, Garrett releases his hold on her. Looking up at him, the
sound of a collective gasp reminds Zara they are not alone. Eyes locked on one
another, no words are needed for Zara to plead with Garrett not to make her
take the last two steps alone.

“I will be right behind you, Little One. I promise.” Bringing
his lips to her ear, he tells her she needs to do this and that she is strong
enough to do it alone. He lightly brushes his lips across hers and steps back
so she can proceed.

Relying on her training to carry her forward, Zara takes
another deep breath and squares her shoulders. With one last glance up at
Garrett, she retrieves the last bit of strength she needs to move forward.

Zara places one foot in front of the other, eyes directly
ahead on the red wood casket. When she reaches her mother, she places her hand
on the side. Her mother looks beautiful. Nothing had changed from the last time
she had stared at her mother laying there, but this time she knows it is her
last time.

Leaning in, Zara kisses her mother’s cheek and whispers, “Mother,
I love him. He has protected me and I think he really loves me. I am sorry I disappointed
you. I am so sorry. I will make it right. I promise. I love you, Mother.”

Garrett places his handkerchief into Zara’s hand. She looks
down at the piece of cloth and up at Garrett. Looking back down at her mother,
Zara sees her tears have fallen on her mother’s cheek and a choking sob bursts
forth without warning.

From behind, Zara feels Garrett wrap his arms around her. Charlotte
appears and together they embrace Zara and walk her to the pew.

After a few minutes, it occurs to Zara that she is surrounded
by Garrett’s family, while across the aisle her father and brother sit alone. On
the raised dais in front of Zara, a man is talking about what a wonderful woman
her mother had been. Blinking, Zara looks closer at the man to see if she
recognizes him from her mother’s life, but she does not.

Zara looks in her father’s direction and feels Garrett squeeze
her tighter. She cannot see Fredrik’s face. Looking up at Garrett with pleading
eyes, she whispers, “I need to make sure Fredrik is alright. He is all alone
over there.”

Garrett turns his head to look over to her family side. With
a slight nod, he stands up and holds her hand while she gets to her feet.

The gentleman recalling the details of her mother’s life
pauses mid-sentence and Zara can feel all the eyes in the sanctuary watching
her every move.

Silently Garrett escorts her across the aisle to where her
family sits stoically before her mother’s casket. She sits down next to Fredrik
and lays her hand on her brother’s clenched fist. He takes a deep breath and
opens his hand to accept her fingers and intertwines them with his own. Looking
into her brother’s eyes, she sees the deep hurt etched into his features.

As Zara’s tears pour freely down her cheeks, her heart
breaks watching Fredrik work to control his tears from leaking. She feels
Garrett extend his arm around her back and she melts into the nook he creates. Holding
hands with her brother and leaning into the man she has come to love, she begins
to focus on the words being spoken in honor of her mother.

Unable to keep her mind from wandering, old memories of her
mother sneak in and hijack her attention. Her thoughts drift back to the first
time her mother spoke to her about her future Dom. The two of them were alone
in the kitchen baking Fredrik a birthday cake for his fourth birthday.

Zara was sitting on a stool as her mother read her recipe aloud.
It was not until many years later that she realized the recipe cards had been used
for her benefit. When her mother cooked she never used the cards that were so
neatly organized by category.

“Zara, do you know why we are making this cake for Fredrik?”

She nodded and watched her mother measure out the flour. She
held the heaping cup over the canister and Zara ran the butter knife over the
top to level it off.

“Cooking and baking are two of the best ways to show someone
how much you love them. We could have purchased a cake, but by making it
ourselves, we add our love into the mix. Someday you will be making a birthday
cake for your Dom. It will be important to discover what his favorite cake is
so you can bake it with love.”

Staring at her mom’s hand as she stirred the batter, Zara
looked for the love to be added. “Zara Faith, would you like to ask me your
question?”

Puzzled, Zara focused on her mother’s face. She didn’t
understand the wide smile that covered her face but it made her smile back. “Mother,
how did you know that I was thinking?”

Placing her elbow on the counter and her chin in her hand, she
sat perched ready to listen to the wonders her mother would share. Her mother
leaned in as close to her as she could without touching her and whispered, “You
make a special face when thinking something over.”

Zara mulled over this new information.

“Do you think we should practice keeping your thoughts
hidden? Maybe you will get so good at it that one day I will not be able to see
that you are thinking.”

Zara nodded and her chin slipped from its resting spot.

“No one can hear you when you nod.”

Smiling, Zara shook her head again but this time replied, “I
want to be able to think without you knowing it. I want you to show me.”

Zara’s mother finished pouring the batter into the cake pan
and set it gently in the oven. They moved to the table and the lesson of
maintaining a schooled face began.

Once Zara was able to hold her facial expression steady, her
mother told her about the day she would watch her walk down the aisle to the Circle
and become the wife of a wonderful Dom.