Before Him Comes Me (4 page)

On the nightstand, Zara notices a large bottle of water covered
with condensation. Drawing near, she sees raspberries at the bottom and a slice
of lemon near the top. She removes the cap and relishes the cold fruit-infused
water. Taking three long pulls, she returns the bottle to the nightstand.

Unsure of the time, she works the comb through her hair as
fast as possible and walks to the closed door leading to the main room of the
plane. As she reaches for the door handle, she pauses.

I am on an airplane.

Smiling to herself and grabbing the door handle, she has
intense feeling that she has forgotten something. Shaking her head, she opens
the door.

Zara sees him sitting on the couch with a drink in his hand.
He looks up slowly, letting his eyes wander down Zara’s body, nodding once as his
eyes spy her feet in tennis shoes.

She closes the door behind her and he smiles.

“Ah. Much better. Am I correct?”

The corners of her mouth turn upward and her eyes stay fixed
on his lips.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Yes, Garrett,” he corrects her with a hint of persuasion in
his voice. “Come and sit with me.”

Taking the last four steps more confidently in her sneakers
than in the heels she was wearing before her shower, she lowers herself onto
the couch a couple of cushions down from Garrett. Gathering her damp hair in
both hands, she releases it in the middle of her back.

“Here. You might need this.”

Looking at his extended hand, Zara gasps when she sees her
pink and green polka dot hair tie. Slowly reaching for the hair tie, tears well
up in Zara’s eyes.

“I… I thought I would never see this…” The words had come
out more of a whisper as if speaking to herself.

“Garrett. Zara, I would like for you to call me Garrett.” Reaching
behind him, he pulled a tissue from a box and raised it to her cheek. “Say it
for me, Zara.”

Swallowing at the gentle touch of the tissue, Zara’s eyes remain
fixed on her hair tie now crumpled in her hands.

Quietly with the first hint of the southern accent from her
home, Zara whispers, “Garrett.”

“I would have never known you are from the South until you
said my name. Yes, I would like you to call me Garrett and say it often.” Not
pausing to make mention of the blush spreading over Zara’s face and neck,
Garrett continues. “Our traditions have their place and some would never think
to break them, but removing all of your previous belongings once you became my
sub was one that I felt comfortable bending. Also, we did not complete the
ceremony, therefore you do not belong to me.”

The cascade of tears down Zara’s cheeks has not slowed and
Garrett pulls out a few more tissues to hand to her.

“Easy, Little One.”

Taking the hair tie from her clenched grasp, he works to
gather all of her loose tendrils in his hands and wrap the band around her hair.

Zara is frozen during the entire process. She knows that
pulling away is not an option and maintains her position holding her breath.

“Breathe, Zara, breathe,” he says, finishing his task.
Garrett leans back against the couch to admire his job. “Not as good as you
would do, but all the hair is up. I wish you had dried it. I don’t want you to
get sick.”

Zara finds her voice again and manages a soft thank you. Wanting
to look into Garrett’s eyes again, Zara wipes the last of her tears and finds
him looking at her. He begins to speak, only to be interrupted by the door
opening at the opposite end of the plane sending Zara’s eyes back to her lap.

Hearing the sound of someone coming, Zara braces for what
will happen next; the unknown making every part of this journey scary. As the
woman draws closer, Garrett leans into Zara to murmur, “Little One, please
breathe for me.”

Zara releases the breath she does not realize she is
holding. The woman stops on the other side of the coffee table. She places two
small napkins in front of each of them and places filled glasses on the
napkins. She adds two plates and two sets of utensils wrapped in napkins.

“Mr. Dawson, will there be anything else for now?”

“No, Felicity, thank you.”

Without another word, the woman pivots and walks back toward
the door leaving Garrett and Zara to pick up where they left off.

Lifting the covers off the dishes, Garrett hands Zara a
plate then picks up his and sits back against the couch.

“I chose sandwiches. I didn’t know if you would decide to
come with me or how each of us would feel. I hope that’s alright with you.”

Shocked, Zara whips her head to look at him and then down at
her plate. She tries to process the words that have just been spoken. In her
entire life, no one had ever hoped that something was ‘alright with her’ and she
struggles to wrap her mind around it.

Almost done with half of his sandwich, Garrett places the
sandwich on the plate and looks at Zara. Feeling his eyes on her, she carefully
picks up half of her sandwich and begins to eat, only then realizing how hungry
she is.

With her sandwich consumed, the exhaustion of the day falls
upon Zara like a blanket. She can barely focus on Garrett’s description of the
college she will soon be attending. As hard as she tries to stay awake, Zara
feels herself drift away from the last minutes of her eighteenth birthday.

Zara blinks awake. She has no memory of disembarking the
plane, driving to this house or getting into this bed, and a sense of panic
begins to take hold. On the nightstand, a note sits with her name on the front.
Tentatively, Zara brings the paper closer, nearly under the comforter, to read.

Your coffee is waiting for you in the kitchen. Garrett.

Zara eases out from under the covers finding comfort in Garrett’s
words. The sound of waves catches her attention. Rolling over, Zara’s mouth
drops open upon discovering a wall of glass revealing a brilliant blue sky. Zara
gazes around the room realizing the room was designed to accentuate the view. The
walls and furniture were done in soft white while the accents were the color of
the sky. The art on the walls tied everything together with seascapes.

Zara heads to the balcony and pushes the glass wall open a
smidgen. She steps out and finds the smell meets her head-on. Thoughts of the day’s
first cup of coffee are replaced by the glory of the view. With her hands on
the rails, Zara leans into the smell and sounds radiating from the largest body
of water she has ever seen. The sounds of waves washing over the sandy beach
makes her smile stretch further across her face.

This is what he smells like.
Lovely
.

Even the noisy seagulls screeching on the beach add to the
overwhelming beauty. Moments like these leave Zara wishing she could paint or
draw to capture the view forever. Turning to abandon this prized spot, Zara
squeezes back through the opening in the glass door.

Built-in shelves on either side of the big white bed hold
knick-knacks with a beach theme. Zara walks to two doors standing closed side-by-side
at the other end of the room. Opening the door on the right, she discovers the
biggest bathroom she has ever seen.

At the end of the long narrow room sits an immense bathtub
graced by a picture window providing another view of the beach. To the side is a
shower encased in glass with built-in shelves stocked with a variety of products.

After several moments spent figuring out the shower, steam
begins to fill the glass space. Zara begins to remove her clothes from the
night before. Spinning around in her half-naked state, she opens the shower
door to get a closer look at the products arranged in the shower. Once again her
favorite body soap, peppermint Dr. Bronner’s, has a place of pride. Zara looks
closely and finds the men’s razor that she has switched to recently after
reading about it in a magazine.

“How?” slips out of Zara’s mouth.

Pushing down the questions scurrying around in her mind,
Zara steps into the shower under the rainwater spout. Head back and eyes
closed, the water washes over her and clears away her thoughts. Breathing deeply
for a few minutes, she feels her shoulders lower to a more relaxed position.

Reaching for her favorite shampoo, Zara opens the lid and
takes a big sniff. Pouring more into her hand than she actually needs, she
begins washing her hair.

The practice of clearing her mind is not working and thoughts
of Garrett are front and center. His hair. His eyes.

Zara, this is the first step to you experiencing life on your
own terms. Trust me.

Picking up a sponge and applying the peppermint soap, she
suds it up to an aromatic lather. Zara drags the sponge up her arm and over her
shoulder, leaving a trail of lather resembling the froth of the waves as they
cascade onto the beach.

The contact of the sponge with her left breast sends a bolt
of sensation through her entire body. Both nipples harden and immediately Garrett
invades her thoughts. Covered with thick lather, Zara uses her free hand to
caress the soap into small circles over her hard nipples.

A vision of Garrett running his tongue over his lips after
taking a sip of a drink plays on repeat in her head. Zara’s eyes close as her fingers
go from a gentle caress to lightly tugging on a nipple. The sensation feels so
good she drops the sponge back into the basket to free her other hand. Repeating
the action of gently caressing her breasts, her eyes close and her head goes
back rinsing away the conditioner in her hair and the thick coat of lather
covering the top half of her body.

The image shifts to Garrett’s hands kneading her breasts.
The strong hands that helped her up and led her out of the Ceremonial Circle–

Zara’s eyes fly open. The sexual thoughts are replaced with
an overwhelming sense of guilt. She had one job to do in her family. One role
to fulfill. She failed.

Zara steps directly under the stream of water to wash the
tears away with the soap. Taking a deep breath, she attempts again to clear her
thoughts.

Wrapped in a towel, Zara works through the rest of her
morning routine without entertaining further thoughts of Garrett. Opening the
drawer under the sink, she finds the ‘wet hair’ comb and leave-in conditioner
and as she opens the door to the bedroom, the smell of coffee hurries her
along.

On top of the dresser, Zara finds the three hair ties that
she and Sloane made resting on three smooth stones. Wonderingly, she opens the
top drawer of the dresser. Neatly folded in sets are several new bras and
panties on the left and there are two rolls of Zara’s old bra and panty sets on
the right. Shifting through the items, it is apparent that only her favorites
were brought. Grabbing the green and white set, Zara holds them to her chest.

No tears, Zar. None.

Pulling out each of the drawers, she finds the same
arrangement continues. New shorts and tee shirts, sleep clothes, bathing suits
and jeans on the left and one or two of Zara’s favorite pieces on the right.

Putting the green and white panties set back where they
were, Zara selects a new green and white polka dot bikini. In the bathroom she
finds the suit fits a bit small in every way and a smile creeps over her face seeing
herself in the sexy bathing suit from every angle.

After pulling on perfectly sized black yoga shorts and a pink
tee from the left side of the drawer, Zara puts her hair up in the hair tie from
last night.

Looking for shoes, she opens the door next to the bathroom
and finds more clothes hanging up along with several pairs of shoes. Pulling
out a pair of black flip-flops, Zara stops to admire a pair of black pumps with
red soles. They are one incredibly sexy pair of shoes. Setting them back on the
shelf, she wonders briefly where she would ever wear such shoes.

After making the bed and hanging up the towel, Zara makes
her way down a bright hallway in search of the coffee that seems to be mocking
her. The sound of her flip-flops on the wood floor takes her back to her
parents’ house.

How many punishments
had
there been for running through the house in flip-flops
? Way too many.

Father did not like noise in the house and over the years,
the house got quieter and quieter. With her bedroom right next to her parents,
there was no escaping the mandate of quietude. Sloane’s father had the same
aversion to noise. Since the two of them took turns staying at one another’s
home, near silence was the norm. Bending to remove her flip-flops, Zara stops
at the entry to the main living quarters. This entire side of the house is made
of glass with an unobstructed view of the beach and water.

One step down and Zara finds herself in an expansive room. A
light grey sectional sofa big enough for two people to lay side-by-side graces
the center. Two chairs sit near it, their backs to the water. Modern in design,
the muted colors allow one’s eyes to gravitate to the real feature of the room,
the water outside.

“Good morning, Zara,” a gravelly woman’s voice startles Zara
into dropping her flip-flops. “I’m sorry, child. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No. I am sorry.”

Bending to pick up the shoes, Zara makes her way to the
short round woman standing in the kitchen. Squaring the shoes up on the floor
in the corner as far out of the way as possible, she moves quickly the rest of
the way to properly introduce herself.

Extending her hand to the smiling older woman, she murmurs, “Good
morning, I am Zara. Please forgive me for making so much noise.”

The woman stares into Zara’s eyes as if trying to read any
secrets she is keeping.

“You’re lovelier than your photographs. You look simply
adorable in that tee shirt. I will have to tell Viv to get more in that style. And
you certainly made no noise, girl. I know where Garrett and Warren are in the
house at all times.

“I bet you’re ready for some coffee. Sit… sit and I will
bring you a cup. It’s a fresh pot. I am glad you slept in. Yesterday must have
taken everything out of you.”

Zara’s eyes must have gotten big before she could catch
herself.

“Oh, yes, I know all about your decision to break the Circle.
That was a very courageous decision you made. You are much stronger than you
know. Hang on to that knowledge.”

The woman sets a large coffee cup on the table in front of
Zara. Before she can ask, a tiny plate with Splenda and a pitcher of ‘Half
& Half’ is slipped beside it.

“Thank you. May I ask… how do you know how I take my coffee?”
Zara asks in an almost whisper. Raised to never ask questions, she remembers
herself and places her hands on her lap. Zara lowers her eyes and begins to
blank her mind with a breathing technique bracing for whatever manner of
punishment is to come as an official reminder.

“Relax, child. In any Dawson house, you are free to ask
questions. Encouraged, actually. I have been with the family for over twenty
years. The Dawson family has even been known to enjoy a heated debate from time
to time.”

“Been with–”

“Oh drat. Zara, I have been going off at the mouth. Forgive
me, child.” Sliding into the seat across from Zara, a standard coffee cup in
hand, the woman takes a deep breath.

“I’m Trudy. I am the Dawson’s family housekeeper. Well, I’m
getting up there in my years so now I take care of running the houses and
cooking mostly. Normally, I would be traveling with Warren and Charlotte but
this was a big event for Garrett and I wanted to be here for him.

“We didn’t know what you would decide to do so I decided to
stay here and get everything situated for your arrival. Garrett told me how you
like your coffee and that you are a bit of a coffee addict. I cannot have any
coffee after noon or it keeps me up half the night.”

“Garrett told you how I like my coffee? I don’t understand. Why
would he tell you that and how would he know?”

Trudy’s smile lights her face as Zara finishes her questions.

“Child, Garrett has told me many things about you. All of
your regular products and favorite foods. Anything that would help make your
time with us more enjoyable. As for how he knows, well, that’s a question for
you to ask Garrett.”

The look on Zara’s face conveyed the question that she had
been thinking non-stop since opening her eyes and Trudy rushed to answer. “He
wanted you to be able to wake up and have a bit of time to yourself. We can’t
begin to imagine how exhausting yesterday was for you.”

Getting up from her seat, Trudy moves at a slow but steady
pace. Opening the refrigerator and pulling out a few items, she sets them out
on the table. Zara stares at them without a word. In front of her sits her
favorite recharge breakfast, each item neatly displayed on plates matching the
one that was now holding two less Splenda packets.

Reaching for the utensils wrapped in a cloth napkin, Zara
looks up to see Trudy staring back at her. A blush spreads over her face.

“Oh, now, enjoy your breakfast. Garrett went to run some
errands.” Looking at her watch, she continues, “He will be back in two hours. I
am going to let you eat in peace. I have some calls to make. If you need
anything, just pick up any phone and dial 11. That will ring me directly. To dial
out, hit 7 and then the number.

“There is a Kindle connected to the Wi-Fi in the drawer of
the nightstand in your room. The beach is always nice and it is private so you don’t
have to be concerned with anyone bothering you. The water is not really warm because
we had a violently cold winter. Next to the door leading out to the beach, you
will find a closet with beach towels, chairs, umbrellas, radio… basically
anything you need for the beach.

“I would imagine you have a lot going on in your thoughts. Maybe
even having trouble clearing your mind.” The utter shock of her statement is
obvious and Zara’s reaction makes her chuckle. “Oh yes, Child. I was owned. My
Master passed on twenty years ago. Warren Dawson was a student of my Master and
took me in after. But that is a story for another day. My point, Zara, is that
if you need to talk, I’m available. Your openness is safe with me.”

With that, Trudy stands up again and places her cup on the
counter next to the sink. “Leave your dishes by mine. That is an order, Child.”

“Yes, Ma’am. Thank you.”

“Zara, Garrett is a good man. He wants to ensure that you
are comfortable and happy. He will never admit it, but he is as nervous as you
are for what will happen next. Never doubt that, Child.”

With a small nod, Trudy shuffles out. Halfway through the
living room, she turns back. “One thing that I don’t know about you is what
type of music you enjoy. Would you like me to put on anything in particular?”

“I am… I am not familiar with much music. I would not want
to disturb anyone.”

“First of all, it’s only you and I here at the moment and I
will not be bothered by music playing. Garrett and his parents always have
music blaring through the house. Any special requests? Rock? Country? Jazz?
Classical?” She had returned to the opening of the kitchen and stood staring at
Zara expectantly.

“I am sorry. I am truly not familiar with music. My parents
did not like noise in the house so I never listened to it. But thank you.” Zara
stirred her oatmeal-on-the-go wondering why it tasted so much better than when
she made it.