Insufferable: A Dark Erotic Romance

Insufferable

Alaska Angelini

Insufferable

Alaska Angelini

Copyright © 2016 by Alaska Angelini

ISBN:

All Rights Reserved

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal, and is punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

Prologue

Jaime

Life was blood and smiles—happiness and tears.

I used to think existence was nothing more than moments that desecrated one’s soul. That hope was a mirage; a beacon of faith calling you forward, only to let you down the moment you thought you arrived at peace. My life had never been full of good memories like most people. From my earliest moments as a child, I knew I was different.

Where other kids had friends and went out to play, I isolated myself—watching. I was always on the outside looking in. I never understood why I was so different. Why I wasn’t filled with the cheerfulness that bubbled within my peers. Contentment just wasn’t there, even though I had a supportive mother. Only darkness … sadness. Lonely nothingness.

High school and college wasn’t any easier. I became more isolated. More withdrawn.

When most guys my age were out partying and living up the best years of their life, I stayed alone, studying. Preparing myself for a life I didn’t plan to live. Suicide had always been there, tempting me for reasons I couldn’t bear to think about. And I would have killed myself if not for a man who turned my entire state of mind around.

Sevastian had saved me by introducing me to a hell I thought I would never escape. He became my Master and showed me what it was to survive. In turn, he returned me to a world where I had a purpose. For years I ran his business while he rebuilt suicidal men and women. But with Diane, one of his last slaves, he found himself again. He fell in love, and with that love, he passed the position of Master to me.

I wasn’t sure how to take on the responsibility at first. I’d seen what it was to be in control of someone’s life. I’d taken Diane. Done things to her that I hadn’t wanted to. But I did it for her and Sevastian. The darkness I had tried pushing away for so long had come back during those weeks. The fear I associated with it left me on edge until I was forced to face it. My Master always knew exactly what to do and say. Sevastian had a way with words that made everything make sense. And he put me at ease, passing his wisdom to me, reassuring that he knew I was perfect for this. Even if we did have different methods.

And I was good at what I did. After all, being a Master wasn’t for the weak or soft-hearted. Nor was it for the unfeeling. It was a balance. One I had. Where I was kind, I could be cruel. When I wanted my new slaves to choose life, I was ready to show them death. Everything was yin and yang. And for over a year, I saved more slaves than I could possibly imagine when I began.

But then came Lydia. Yes, it was like I was looking at my old self all over again, but there was more. She was so close to suicide. I knew I was the only one who could save her. The one who could show her what happiness truly was. For almost two months I had watched, and for two months, Lydia withdrew from society. I knew the cycle. Knew, because it had once been me. We had one thing in common. Death wanted us. Little did He know, Lydia was
mine
.

Chapter 1

Lydia

To long for death, when you don’t want to die.
It was the conundrum constantly plaguing my thoughts. I couldn’t escape the bonds restraining my soul. I never understood how I could want to disappear from this place when my life wasn’t all bad. Sure, there were moments, but there were people who had it worse than me. It didn’t mean the longing to die eased. It only made the guilt over what I felt I needed to do even worse.

For regular people—normal people—they’d never understand what it was to be as mentally low as me. My heart felt broken, my soul … exhausted. I could smile a million times, but no one saw past it. No one saw the real me. The one who constantly tried to help others when no one needed more help than myself. Too many times I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs,
don’t you see me
?
I’m fucking dying here. Help me. Help…

Bruised. Broken. My life had been nothing but a constant state of self-destruction since I was young. Barely even a teenager. My pain led to my drug use. That, to a string of even more abusive relationships later in my teen years. At least until I met Phillip in my early twenties. He was a business owner and very successful for being only thirty. But he had a secret I shortly discovered after our marriage. One, he literally shoved down my throat Christmas Eve night before we left for the company’s annual party.
It’d be fun
, he said. It would make everything bad just … disappear. And it had and so much more.

Once an addict, always an addict. No one at the office knew, or maybe they did, but they never commented on my suddenly bubbly behavior.

Maybe Phillip had known when he rammed that first heroin based ecstasy pill down my throat that I’d give him what he wanted. More dependency. More control. He loved me under his thumb, and he’d gotten it. Speed based, heroin based, I didn’t care as long as what he provided made me happy. And he had supplied me with three of the best years I could somewhat remember. He’d also made me nearly overdose three times. Luckily, he knew all the tricks to bring me back before it got bad enough to have to go to the hospital. Our marriage, in his eyes, couldn’t have been more perfect. Deep inside, regardless of the drug-hazed happiness, I knew how much trouble I was in.

With divorce and withdrawal under my belt, I thought I had life beat. I’d done it. Survived what some never did. But with my short-lived victory, my depression returned. My suicidal thoughts once again took the upper hand, but this time, they hit worse than ever, dragging me down and reminding who I truly was. There was no buffer to help ignore the twisted fucked-upness that was me.

Alone, isolated from the friends I had made during my drug years, I sank to an all-time low and gave in to the temptation. My first suicide attempt was nothing more than a cry for help. I got it, but it didn’t stop the craving to make everything stop. With my history of pills, I couldn’t do as they recommended and take more. Not even if it was going to make me better. The fear of the vicious cycle returning was one I couldn’t be tempted into again. Just thinking about putting another pill in my mouth made the anxiety so intense that I was desperate to escape it all. That brought me back to the one place in my head that had become my home these last two years—suicide. But I’d gotten stronger. Just not in the right direction.

Earth was cold beneath my bare feet and I weaved through the trees and shadows, brushing my hands along the rough bark, letting the waves crashing in the distance call me closer. Their lullaby coaxed my melancholy, and the heaviness within eased. I was almost there. Almost to where I’d always felt I needed to be. Just gone.

The white nightgown I wore pulled back as foliage snagged at the hem just below my knees, but I barely noticed as tears stung my eyes. I forged ahead, focusing all of my attention on how soon this would end. Questions were nonexistent. I’d spent the night crying, contemplating if what I was doing was the right decision. I knew there was nothing left. Maybe there was nothing ever here to begin with. The blur—the haze of depression blocking out better judgement—was now nothing more than a darkness taking over my mind. I had to do this. It was time.

A clearing appeared ahead and the ocean came into view for as far as I could see. Light was brighter in the early morning outside of the thick trees I’d just made it through and loose dirt had my feet sliding with the steady steps as I passed two large rocks on either side of me. Entranced, I continued toward the edge of the cliff. Wind whipped my nightgown up past my hips, but I didn’t correct the loose cotton material. The closer I got, the lighter I was becoming. I wanted this more than I wanted anything.
Drugs, love, affection.
They paled in comparison to the thought that I’d be totally free from the monsters that tormented my mind.

My arms came up and the breeze rushing through each of my fingers had me inhaling deeply. Weightlessness settled over me and I felt my hair blow back over my nearly bare shoulders. Free. Yes. For the first time in as long as I could remember, I felt happy.

Small rocks stabbed under my feet as I stepped onto the flat rock that rested just at the edge of the cliff. They pierced my skin, but I refused to lift to ease the pain. I liked it. In the moment, I
needed
it.

Crunching of what sounded to be twigs had my lids shooting open. The thought that I might not be alone created a shard of guilt that pierced my belly and soured my euphoric state. I turned, watching as a tall man with light brown hair emerged from the trees. He was wearing a business suit. One that happened to look extremely expensive. I swallowed hard, not sure how I should react. What was he doing out here? Had my parked car on the highway alerted him to my location? Surely not. It could have been anyone. Someone who ran out of gas for all he knew. The walk had to have been at least a mile. I’d picked the location because of the privacy and how undisclosed it was. Yet, here he was.

As he slowed just outside of the clearing, I couldn’t stop the racing of my heart. The way he looked at me…
He knew
. The automatic feeling of being judged left me defenseless, yet there was something in his expression that made me reserve delving further into my suspicions. Perhaps I was imagining it.

My mouth opened to speak, but ultimately closed. I leaned more of my weight on the balls of my feet as he stepped even closer. He didn’t say a word and neither did I. The need to communicate wasn’t there. The thought of pretending had my exhausted body ready to collapse. The need to curl in the fetal position and never get up again was just as powerful as the longing to close my eyes and let myself fall to my death.

The stranger took a step closer, shrugging off his suit jacket and letting it fall to the ground. Even as he did, he kept his stare fixated on me.

“Lydia, why don’t you come over here so we can talk.”

My lids blinked rapidly as my name registered. Slowly, my head shook while I continued to take in this beautiful stranger. I’d never seen him before, yet he somehow knew who I was.

“Alright.” He loosened his tie, pulling it free and letting it dangle from his fingertips. The wind left the ends flying out away from his body and I took in the bright red silk material, almost getting lost in the movement. His voice brought my stare back up.

“Something told me today was the day. You didn’t sleep last night. Usually, you go to bed relatively early. What set you off?”

A deep exhale left me and I lowered my head, closing my eyes. I should have been fearful that I’d been monitored, but I wasn’t. I wasn’t going to be here to face the consequences for lying to my therapist or support group. Disappointment wasn’t something I could bear and I didn’t even want to think about how they’d react to the news.

“You should go.” Perhaps it was the weakness in my voice that had him coming more toward me. My head lifted and I cocked it to the side, feeling my face turn hard. I was losing patience as the seconds went by. His determination left my hopelessness turning into anger. “
Please
leave.”

“I can’t do that. I’m sorry. I know you want this, but whatever it is you’re battling, you don’t have to do it alone. There’s nothing that can’t be solved.”

This man didn’t understand. What I battled couldn’t be fixed like some broken toy. I was already gone.
My soul was dead
. There were no replacement for one of those.

“Please. I won’t ask you again.”

“And I’m not leaving. If you jump, I jump.”

“Don’t guilt me, mister. I have enough for the both of us.”

“My name is Jaime. And I’m not guilting you. That’s the last thing I would do. What I speak is the truth.” He pulled at the top of his white business shirt, sliding the button free. A sadness washed over him while he pursed his mouth. For some reason tears escaped my eyes and I almost felt like I could connect to his person. It had me clenching my fists at my sides. I didn’t want the emotion. Didn’t want to feel anything for anyone at this point.

“I think you doubt me. If you jump, I
will
jump after you. Come to me. Let’s leave here. I’ll take you home. I’ll help you.” He paused, kicking off his shoes. “I’ll ... take care of you.”

The gorgeous stranger moved closer, meeting my eyes with ones filled with just as much sorrow as I harbored. It rooted my feet, making me hesitate. But it didn’t change my mind.

“I don’t need help.” A sob tore from my throat. “Just go!”  Dirt shifted beneath my bare feet as I took a step closer to the edge of the cliff. Wind whipped at me angrily, but my concern wasn’t over me. He wasn’t stopping.

“You may step off that cliff, and that’s your choice, but you have to know... I’m going to save you, even if it kills me.”

Save me? Didn’t he know he was already talking to a ghost?

Besides, he wouldn’t jump. From his appearance, he had too much to lose.

“If you come any closer …” I let my words trail off, watching as he slowed only feet away from me. My heart was racing. I didn’t want him to have to see this. Why couldn’t he leave and give me the peace I deserved? “I’ll do it,” I barely got out. “I’m
going
to do it. Please just walk away now. You don’t want to witness this.”

“And you think I can live my life with a clear conscience knowing what you’re about to do? Lydia, I can make you better.”

Once again his hand outstretched toward me. On instinct, my foot slid back. The emptiness beneath my heel had me swallowing even harder. And he … he was inching in. There was a panic within his stare. One so deep within that I wasn’t sure if I was reading him right. He was definitely anxious to get to me. But would he really jump? I was starting to doubt my earlier assessment that told me he wouldn’t.

In slow movements, his fingers tried to draw me closer. Despite their calm motion, the pace didn’t fool me. The man wasn’t going to let me go willingly. That only meant one thing, and it turned my stomach at the thought.

“Come back this way. Just one step. At least until we finish talking.”

He came closer when my hands shot out in front of me. “Don’t. We’re done talking.
I’m so sorry
.”

Wind rushed against my back as let myself fall into the open space behind me. Gravity became nonexistent and time almost seemed to slow as the realization of what I’d done began to sink in. This was it. Freedom.

“Lydia!”

Strands of my hair nearly blinded me as my lids opened at my name, but they couldn’t mask the horror I felt at what was nearly on top of me.
At who
….

My head shook and guilt had my arms and legs flailing to take back my action. I could kill myself, but dying, knowing that I was going to take someone else’s life with my own? Did this man have family? A wife? Children?

Fingers outstretched toward me, trying to grip, to claw in my direction. It was odd that in the face of death, I’d take comfort in that. I’d been running away from intimacy of any kind for so long that now I was taking solace in the stranger’s determination to save me. But I wasn’t afraid of what was happening. Not for me. Only for him.