BeyondAddiction (25 page)

If there was one good thing to come out of the hours of
torment, it was the realization that, at last, the thread of addiction
connecting her to Brian Willoughby seemed to be broken.

The little voice in her head kept taunting her.
You made
the choice to come here because you weren’t smart enough to understand what he
truly was.

Now she understood, but maybe it was too late.

No. There was no longer a question of whether he still had
control over her. The invisible leash that bound her to Brian had been cut
tonight a thousand times over. How had she not realized he’d been wearing a
mask so much of the time? That when everything was stripped down to essentials,
he was nothing more than an abuser who used sex as a means to a sadistic end?
Who perverted every aspect of a D/s relationship? Claire had tried to pound it
into her, without any luck. Fallon had still been so drawn by the pleasure/pain
concept that she’d ignored her reality.

Not any longer.

She knew what would happen now. When Brian had achieved his
full measure of satisfaction, had thoroughly humiliated both her and Cord, he’d
toss her out in the streets, ruined. If she were the only one involved, she’d
just let Brian do whatever he wanted with her. She deserved no less for her
stupidity. But she had to think of Cord. If only she could rise above the
torment of her body and gather her scattered wits.

She had to get out of here.That much was evident.

With every part of her body in distress, she made her way
slowly and agonizingly to the bathroom. Leaning on the vanity counter, she
stared at herself in the mirror. The face that stared back was grotesque;
pinched and drawn, with dark circles beneath eyes that still reflected the
vestiges of the terrible night. Her tears had mingled with the mucous from her
nose to create an unholy mess on her face. And from what she could see of her
body, her skin was fiery-red from all the abuse. The bright dots on her breasts
and belly were evidence of the cat-o’-nine-tails. She was sure if she could
turn around and look over her shoulder, she’d see the red marks of the flogger
and the cane.

He’d been a maniac with that cane, worse than she could ever
remember. An instrument that delivered maximum pain under any circumstances, it
had been applied liberally, with Brian putting his strength into every hit.
Fallon was surprised he hadn’t broken any of her bones.

I have to do something. And soon.

There had to be a way out of her elegant prison. Some way to
slip out. She was positive an opportunity would present itself. She had to
believe that or she’d go insane. But not tonight. Not while he was still in the
house.

Turning on the cold water faucet, she filled the glass
sitting beside the sink, drained it, refilled it and drank again. She cleaned
her face and then, moving like some crippled old woman, she made her way back
to the bed and crawled under the covers.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow something would happen and she’d be able
to get out of here. It was the only thing that gave her even the faintest edge
of hope.

Unexpectedly, she drifted off to sleep.

Brian considered checking on Fallon after breakfast but
decided against it. Leaving her to wonder how long she’d be alone, without any
indication of what came next, was part of the plan. He had also thought about
locking her door, but he was convinced he’d so successfully taken her down to
nothing last night, she’d be too terrified to try to leave the suite. It was
her comfort zone as well as her prison. Mrs. Hudson would take her a breakfast
tray after he’d gone and report to him on her condition. For the moment, that
would be enough while he decided on his next move.

Last night when he’d left Fallon, he’d gone directly
upstairs to Natalie. His original intension had been to sleep in Fallon’s room,
but he’d decided the feeling of desertion would unsettle her and work better in
this case.

He had given Mrs. Hudson orders regarding breakfast and
drawing a bath for Fallon, as well as attending to her bruised and battered
body. The housekeeper had been handling such things for him for years. He often
thought she enjoyed probing and caressing the bodies of his subs, especially
since he knew she did it in such a way that robbed them of all dignity.

Brian was feeling smugly satisfied with himself. Natalie had
been terrified when he’d entered their suite last night, wondering if he was
just going to leave her alone forever. As tired as he was, he had taken the
time to administer a small punishment that aroused her and brought her to
climax. She had thanked him profusely and even wanted to suck his cock to show
her gratitude, but his poor dick had already had plenty of use prior.

Besides, refusing her had upped her degree of uncertainty,
and he liked seeing that look in her eyes. And it had allowed her to almost
gratefully accept his need to cuff her for the night in an uncomfortable
position on the bed.

Tonight he’d look in on Fallon, perhaps give her a few
strokes with the flogger and then use Natalie for his amusement and
gratification. And today he was about to go after yet another business to add
to his global empire. This one would give him enormous pleasure. Those bastards
at the Sons of the Republic of Texas chapped his ass, telling him he wasn’t
eligible for membership. So what if his ancestors showed up a year too late?
With all his money and power, you’d think they’d be kissing his feet to join.

So he’d go after them this way, knocking them down one by
one.

He backed his car out of the garage, headed down the
driveway and pressed the button on the console to open the electronic gate.
Driving along the street, he noticed the van from the cleaners he used making
its early morning pickups and deliveries. The driver pulled out into the
roadway just as he passed, nearly clipping his car.

Damn asshole.
Maybe he’d buy the business just so he
could fire him.

* * * * *

“It’s been less than forty-eight hours and I’m going out of
my mind.” Cord dragged his fingers through his hair then rubbed the stubble on
his chin.

Claire studied the man sitting across from her, saw the
worry and devastation in his eyes. At eight o’clock, he rang her doorbell,
apologetic about the early hour but looking so wild-eyed she hadn’t had the
heart to send him away.”

“Take a swallow of coffee,” she told him, “and try to settle
down. You won’t do anyone, including yourself, any good if you fall apart.”

“I know, I know,” he muttered and took a sip of the hot
liquid. “I can’t concentrate on my work at the ranch. I don’t dare show up at
the event center. I’ll scare people away. What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“For one thing, pull yourself together. I can’t predict what
the outcome of this will be, although I sure wish I had a crystal ball. But if
Fallon does walk away from Willoughby on her own this time, you’ll need to be
the strong one. I guarantee you, she’ll be broken into pieces and will need to
be put back together.”

“What if she doesn’t leave him?” Agony rang in every word.

“Then we’ll face that together.” She leaned across the small
breakfast table and placed a hand on his arm. “You’re my friend as well, Cord.
I’ll be here for you. If it all goes to hell, you’ll need to put your life back
together and find a way to move forward.”

“And Fallon? Will you be there for her if she needs you?”

Claire slapped at him. “Of course I will. What a dumb
question. It’s not even worth answering.”

“You did this once before with her,” he pointed out. “Are
you willing to go through it again?”

Claire studied his face for a long moment before answering.
“Cord, Fallon will be my friend no matter what. The way I look at it, she has
this…disease. I tried to cure it for her once before and it didn’t take. She
has to want to be cured.”

“And if she does?”

“Then I’m here whenever she wants me and for whatever she
needs. But you, my friend, need to get your shit together. If Fallon manages to
leave Brian on her own, she’ll have a long healing process. You’ll need to be
patient and maybe not even see her for a while.”

“Fuck.” He rubbed the bristle on his chin. “What if she’s
ruined for—for—” He fumbled for words.

“For the kind of sex the two of you enjoy together?” Claire
finished in a soft voice.

He nodded. “What happens then?”

“That’s a decision the two of you would have to make. I
can’t get into something that personal. But let’s not go there yet. Don’t get
ahead of yourself with the what-ifs. You’ll just make yourself crazier.” She
hoped the smile she gave him was encouraging. “Go home. Work the ranch. Oversee
your business.”

“You’re right. I guess.” Cord swallowed the rest of the
coffee in his mug. “Maybe if I fill the daylight hours with enough backbreaking
work, the nights won’t pass so slowly.” He stood up. “I want you to know how
much I appreciate this. Honestly.”

“I know, Cord.” Sympathy filled her eyes. “Remember. You can
call me or come by anytime you need to talk.”

His mouth twisted in a bitter grin. “You may regret that
offer.”

“Never. Now go on. Get back to the ranch.”

She stood in the doorway watching as he backed out of the
driveway, her heart breaking. For both of them.

* * * * *

Fallon opened her eyes, trying to orient herself. The
intense pain that had woken her many times during the night had eased slightly.
But every cell of her body was still on fire, inside and out. She folded back
the covers and eased herself to a sitting position, slowly swinging her legs
over the side of the bed. Her muscles screamed at the effort.

I have to get out of here before he kills me.

She’d convinced herself even further through the long hours
of the night that what Brian practiced and a healthy D/s lifestyle had no
relationship to each other. Claire had tried so hard to tell her that Brian was
a destroyer, a demolisher. That he chewed people up and spat them out, both
personally and professionally.

Somehow in her head, she’d gotten everything mixed up. Early
in her twenties she’d discovered she was a submissive, despite having a strong
personality. She loved being dominated in the bedroom. And Cord had shown her
what a loving relationship between a Dom and a sub could be on a long-term
basis. A mature relationship. With him, she had truly begun to understand and
recognize the levels of pain that aroused her sensually and those that were
beyond her tolerance. Everything in their relationship was an ongoing
negotiation, as it should be in a healthy D/s situation.

Brian Willoughby had seduced her in so many ways—with
attention, with his voice, with promises of extreme pleasure only he could
provide. He’d awakened a dark need for edgeplay she hadn’t even known lurked in
the recesses of her brain. But then he’d taken the punishment levels to
extremes, something she saw now too clearly. A master manipulator, he was so
clever that she was hooked before she could realize how destructive he truly
was.

Cord had opened her eyes to what was possible again yet
Brian had maintained his unhealthy hold. Possibly because she hadn’t broken it
off herself, but whatever the reason,
she
had allowed it. She’d allowed
herself to be drawn back to the man who’d awakened her dark sexual nature,
ignoring the danger.

Well, there was no way to ignore it now. Her bruised body
was a visual reminder.

Images of Cord filled her head. Even though he probably
wouldn’t want anything to do with her after this, thinking of him, remembering
every minute they were together, was currently her only lifeline.

She thought briefly about just telling Brian this was an
error on her part but realized immediately what a mistake that would be. He
would never let her just walk out of here. He was insanely obsessive and on a
crusade to break her completely. Crossing him was what had put her in this
hell. And a night worse than the last would surely destroy her.

No, to break away, she’d have to sneak out like a thief.

How did I allow myself to get reduced to something like
this?

Because you’re greedy. Always wanting more pain, more
edge, more orgasms. You couldn’t appreciate what you already had. Now you have
more than you ever bargained for.

Slowly, like the broken woman she was, Fallon made her way
to the bathroom and used the toilet, even that simple, natural task causing
pain to her abused body. Then she washed her hands and dried them on a fluffy
towel hanging on a rack. She found a toothbrush and toothpaste in the medicine
cabinet and took her time brushing her teeth. She wondered if she’d ever get
the taste of him out of her mouth.

While she was frightened of what would happen if she stayed
here even one more night, Fallon knew getting away from Brian, was only a first
step. Her mind still needed a lot of repair. But first things first—she had to
get out of here. And that wouldn’t be so easy. To begin with, she had no
clothes. For another, pain shot through every limb each time she moved.

She was considering the possibility of a shower to see if
that would help her body when she heard the bedroom open. Mrs. Hudson walked
in, her lips thinning when she spotted Fallon in the bathroom.

“Mr. Willoughby said to wake you at this time, but I see
you’re already up.” She studied Fallon from head to toe. “I also see you
required a great deal of discipline last night. That upsets him.”

It didn’t make me happy, either.

“I’ll be bringing your breakfast shortly. Then I have
instructions on how to bathe you and attend to your body today.” She pulled a
tiny plastic bag from one pocket. “Aspirin, to take the edge off the soreness.”

Soreness? It’s a hell of a lot more than that.

“Take these. I have some other chores to attend to before
getting back to you. Sit in the wing chair again and wait for me.” She paused
to make sure Fallon was back in the chair as directed before she turned on her
heel and left.

The lock snicked into place after the door closed. Fallon
stared at the Baggie in her hand, wanting something to ease her pain. But she
didn’t trust anything that came from Brian. Not anymore.

As soon as she was certain Mrs. Hudson wasn’t going to stick
her head back in to make sure Fallon was in her statue pose in the chair, she
made her way back to the bathroom. Emptying the pills in the toilet, she
flushed them away, careful to ensure they disappeared. Then, gritting her
teeth, she sat back down on the bed and forced herself to think.

She’d have to figure out how to incapacitate the housekeeper
long enough to make it out the front door. As weak as she was, she’d be taking
a big chance. But she was also desperate, and desperation often gave one
strength.

The first thing she did was search the suite to find her
purse and put it where she could easily get it. Then she looked around again,
trying to figure out her escape, discarding one scenario after another before
finally deciding on the only thing she thought might work.

By the time she heard the door open and close again, she had
staged her scene.

When the housekeeper entered, Fallon was lying curled up on
the floor beside the wing chair, the little side table tipped over. The heavy
lamp from the table was lying on the floor next to her, the cord curled around
her hand. At first glance it should appear she’d fainted and knocked over the
lamp as she fell, clutching it for support. At least that was her hope.

“Holy hell!” The housekeeper’s voice was sharp. “We can’t
have this. Mr. Willoughby will be very upset if you’re useless to him!” Mrs.
Hudson shook her. “Damn it. This is unacceptable! I’ll have to fix this.”

Fallon gathered herself, waiting, waiting.

As soon as the woman crouched beside her, Fallon moved,
grabbing the lamp and swinging it as hard as she could.

There was a satisfying thunk when it hit Mrs. Hudson’s head.

Fallon pushed to her knees and for good measure, swung the
lamp one more time.

Then she knew she couldn’t wait a moment longer. She grabbed
her purse from its place on the dresser, yanked open the door and raced out of
the room. She didn’t even look back to make sure the housekeeper was
incapacitated enough not to come after her.

Get out! Get out! Get out! Don’t stop!

The phrase was screaming in her head.

At the front door, she punched the button she knew opened
the gate and ran down the driveway, uncaring that she was completely naked.
Desperation fueled her as she flew, heedless of harsh pavement beneath her bare
feet. She made it through the gate as it swung open, and out into the street.

Just get to someone’s house. Just get help.

She hobbled quickly down the sidewalk. She didn’t know how
long Mrs. Hudson would be out and expected at any moment the woman would come
racing after her. A couple of cars drove slowly down the street as she padded
down the sidewalk but apparently no one wanted to stop for a naked woman. And she
didn’t want to seek help too close to Brian’s place.