Insufferable: A Dark Erotic Romance (11 page)

Chapter 15

Jaime

“I have a problem.”

Sevastian’s voice paused over the phone as my words cut off his greeting.

“What sort of problem? Did Lydia try to kill herself, again? Did she hurt you?”

“No.” I glanced up to the monitors before me, watching her lie on the bed. She was reading. Had been now for hours.

“Well, if she didn’t harm herself or you, what’s the problem? Is she better than you thought?”

“I wish. She’s a cutter. She’d do it in a heartbeat if she could manage to find something. But that isn’t the worst of it. I was right, bringing her here. It would have been soon. She builds and then she explodes. One trigger is all it would take.”

“Dammit. I was hoping she had turned around over the months.”

Lydia rolled to her back, lifting the book over her head. I couldn’t stop my mouth from pursing at Sevastian’s response.

“Me too, but that’s not the case. She says she wants to end it when her time is up. She feels she doesn’t have a choice. She can’t escape the urges when they come and she’s tired of fighting. We both know I’m not going to let that happen. I just have to come up with a game plan.”

Silence.

“A game plan? Jamie, what did I teach you? You were supposed to have one ready before you ever brought her to you in the first place.”

“I had one,” I snapped.

“So what’s the issue? Will it not work for her now?”

“No. Well, yes, but...” I ran my fingers through my hair as I stood and began to pace. “It’s not that simple. She could go through with the plan, but I’m not so sure I can.”

Footsteps paused on the other end of the phone and I waited while guilt ate at me.

“You’re too soft for her, aren’t you?”

“I think it’s more than that.”

“More than that? What do you mean? Are you saying you…” Sevastian’s voice died out as he seemed to catch his increasing incredulity. “Are you telling me you might have feelings for this girl?”

Again I found myself stopping in front of the monitors. She was still there. Still reading as if the world hadn’t fallen out from under us. Or me. Yes, definitely me. I couldn’t think. I could barely keep myself contained in the room. All I wanted was to go back in and pin her down on that bed and—

“Jaime, you still with me?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I don’t know.”

“Well, you either have romantic feelings for her or you don’t. It’s pretty simple. If you possibly love her, you have to walk away right now. You have to let me finish this out. You are in no condition to do what is best for her.”

Anger surged, causing my teeth to grind into each other. I knew he was right, but I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving.

“I need more time. A few more days to see how things play out.”

“Jaime …”

“A few more days.”

“God dammit.” A door sounded and I knew he was back in his office. “You’re walking a very thin line, you know that, right? You don’t want to leave her, but we both know if you have any feelings for her whatsoever, you have to break away and let her get better first. It’s the only way to know for sure.”

My head shook, but I didn’t speak. I knew what he meant. He had done the same thing for Diane. It was the whole reason I had monitored her. Things could get complicated. And not just with feelings. Lydia could be fine right now if the whole love thing panned out. But what about a year from now? Two years? Five? At some point, a fight or depression would trigger her need of suicide and if she wasn’t taught to care for herself without me, anything could happen. One mistake right now could cost her her life in the future.

“You say you need more time. Are you positive you want to do that?”

“Yes. I’ll be okay for now. I just wanted you aware. I’ll call if I need you.”

Sevastian’s deep breath echoed through. “Promise me, Jaime. Not only for her sake, but for yours. I lost my first wife to suicide. That’s not something you want to go through. Play this smart. Do it for both of you.”

My mouth opened and the words were on the tip of my tongue to tell him to come, but something wouldn’t let me. My greed? The protectiveness I felt over her? Maybe it was a combination of everything.

“Speaking of wives. How’s the future Mrs. Tyler?”

“Diane is great. Planning away. We meet with the florist on Friday to look over the arrangements. Nothing that can’t be postponed if it has to.”

“Lydia will be fine,” I stressed.

I threw a glance at the screen, only to find myself coming back to the monitor. Nothing was different, but I couldn’t deny the pull to sit down and continue watching.

“Have you kissed her?”

“What?”

“You heard me perfectly clear. You repeating my question tells me you already have. Son of bitch, Jaime. Really? Did you do more?”

“I have this handled. I’ll call if I need you.”

“Trigger objects, Jaime. Don’t you dare fucking try to protect her by keeping her from the tests.”

“
I’ve got this
.”

I hung up the phone, cursing as I let it slide against the desk. I shouldn’t have called until I was positive. There was no fooling Sevastian. He could pick up a lie when no one else could. And here I was, putting myself right in his path. He could stop this—stop me from being with her until she was better. And in her case, that could be months. Longer.

Fool.

The word repeated in my head while I leaned back against the chair. Tests. Yes. It was almost time and when that happened, things were going to get bad. If Lydia had feelings for me now, she might not when all of this was over.

I rubbed my eyes, groaning as I let my head rest back, over the top of the chair. I had to get control over this. Over myself. I’d never been this distracted. I felt weak, and I hated that. It wasn’t me.

Movement had me focusing on Lydia again. She was sitting up and placing the book down on the bed beside her. My pulse jumped as she eased from the mattress and walked toward our adjoining door. How she knew I was in here was beyond me, but it wasn’t seconds before knocking sounded.

I stood, pulling the keys from my pocket and unlocking it. I shouldn’t be opening the door, but it was sealed too well and I really didn’t feel like having a yelling match with a barrier between us. Was that an excuse? It sure as hell felt like one.

“I have to go to the restroom.”

“Of course.”

My tone was light as I opened my door wider, gesturing to my bathroom. Lydia’s eyes darted up to mine and then to the monitors as she passed. When she got to the middle of the room, she slowed, pausing, but kept staring forward. I could see her fidgeting at whatever she was thinking.

“Privacy, please.”

At my silence, she continued, again, shutting the doors behind her. Nervousness had my fists clenching. Privacy. I should give it to her, but I suddenly knew what was lying on my counter. Sevastian wanted me to go through with the tests, but this wasn’t a prop like in all the lessons we gave. She wasn’t ready. Not for this. She would fail. I knew it in my gut.

Please be wrong.

I let my stare drift to the monitor long enough to take in her location. So far, so good. She was walking to the toilet. That would buy me some time to get myself ready for whatever was to come.

Quietly, I counted to five and stole another glance.

Still good.

One-two-three-four-five-six-seven—

Still good.

I made it to ten, and then to fifteen seconds. When Lydia stood and started walking to the sink, she jerked to a stop—just like my heart. Was it even beating? The plummet to my toes made my stomach twist in knots. I couldn’t breathe as she walked closer. In slow movements she turned on the facet and began washing her hands … but her eyes never left the razor I’d used to shave my face.

“Don’t.”

One word from me and my pulse was roaring so loudly in my ears that I could barely hear it. Time was slowing and where each second drew out, her grab for the razor was lightning fast. My mind seemed to stall in panic, but my body was already responding, turning and sprinting for the restroom. 

Crack!

Wood shattered from the frame as my shoulder drove into the door. Nothing seem to come into focus, although my eyes saw everything.

Crimson pooled, streaming down Lydia’s arm as she slid the razor sideways and repeatedly over her forearm. I didn’t think as I dove and tackled her down. We hit the ground hard, but it didn’t stop her from fighting. Fear left me scrambling and regret was already sinking in. I knew she would hurt herself, and yet I had waited. Had I learned nothing from the cliff incident? I shouldn’t have even let her continue in the restroom as soon as I realized the possibilities.

“Get off me! Get! Off!”

My grip on her slick wrist nearly slid free as she thrashed to get the razor further away from me.

“You are in so much trouble. Do you think you’ve had it hard so far? Slave, you have no idea the hell that awaits you from here on out.”

The brutal squeeze I gave to her wrist had a scream exploding through the room. The thick metal razor hit the floor but I didn’t see it. I couldn’t see anything but the determination on Lydia’s face. It sparked a hot, red-blooded rage in my gut. I was so much closer to her than the other slaves and that made me emotionally more invested. It made the situation worse. I couldn’t think past wanting to punish her, and I needed to.

“I know you’re mad at me, Master, but you will never understand. I had to do it. I can’t stop.” Her voice cracked and fury pushed into her words at my hesitation to respond. “Flog me again if you want. I don’t care. Every second that goes by is all the same hell anyway.”

The edge of my lips tugged back angrily as I shook my head. “Are you so sure about that? I bet you I could show you things you could never imagine. I’ll show you hell, baby.”

Chapter 17

Lydia

“I didn’t know.”
The man shook his head as tears raced down his grief stricken face.
“All that time she was harboring those … thoughts. That pain. It never crossed my mind how far gone she was. My Patty. How could I not know? How did I miss the signs that are so clear to me now?”

“Mr. Rogers, my condolences for your wife. I know this interview is hard, but the next question I’m going to ask may upset you even more.”

The husband nodded, wiping his face with a white handkerchief. My own tears had been flowing now for what had to have been hours. Interview after interview, Jaime forced me to sit on the edge of the bed and watch the families of suicide victims. Mothers, spouses, even some of the children of the deceased. It was killing me, and for reasons I didn’t want to face. Since my mother’s death shortly after my marriage to Phillip, I had no one. There would be no tears when the news of my death was released. Sure, some might come across an article in the paper and think,
poor Lydia
.
What a tragedy.
But the thought would be gone just as fast as it came. There was nothing left for me anymore. Even my brother didn’t know who I was, or cared to find out. I had tried reaching out to him once. Nothing. The one who might have cared the most was standing silently next to me, and if I went by any indication from his expression, he was over caring the small amount he may have.

“Mr. Rogers, it’s known that you were the one who found Patty. Can you walk me through the first moments of when you went into your bedroom and found her?”

A deep breath shook the man’s chest.

“I got off of work early. It was out of character for me, but I couldn’t get over the argument Patty and I had the night before.”
He got quiet, staring down at the ground as he seemed to relive the torment within his mind.
“I tried calling a few times. When I never got an answer or a text, I began to worry. I thought maybe a car accident, but she told me she was cancelling her appointments and staying home. I can remember being confused as I left the office. My mind was coming up with so many possibilities and yet I kept dismissing them. I kept thinking she was fine, that it was all in my head. But those words she’d used the night before. They wouldn’t leave me.”

“What did she say, Mr. Rogers?”

Red rimmed eyes rose for only a second before they lowered. The small cry that left his lips had my bottom one quivering.

“We were arguing over our vacation being postponed. She said we never got to spend time together anymore. That she didn’t even know who I was, and … that I didn’t know her. I told her she was being silly. There was plenty of time to go to Jamaica, the resort wasn’t going anywhere. I dismissed the first part of her rant. She was right. It had been months since we got to spend any time together. Between our schedules, we were lucky to have dinner two or three times a week. Even then the conversations were always work-related.”
He paused, hunching his shoulders.
“She hated when I went on and on about work. How I was always on the phone. I can still see her sitting at the table when we had dinner on Friday. She was staring across the room while I was talking to my assistant. She looked so sad. I remember it caused me to forget what Patrick was saying, and then I got lost in his repeat of the schedule. I didn’t really see her awake again until a few days later—the night of our fight. Patty asked me if I knew what it was like to feel invisible. That’s what wouldn’t leave me. That’s why I took off early. It wasn’t the question that got me. It was the look in her eyes when she had asked it. I remember not being able to speak at first. I knew in my head, then, that something had to change. I tried talking to her about what she meant, but she dismissed it and excused herself. I laid in bed that night for a good hour going over that moment. Somehow I convinced myself I was worrying over nothing. Maybe I knew and I didn’t want to believe it. Maybe that’s why I left work after only a few missed phone calls.”

“Tell me what happened when you walked into your bedroom, Mr. Rogers.”

Cries filled the room and I wasn’t sure if it was from the grieving husband or from me. Could I take any more of this? Jesus, I knew what was happening. I’d heard accounts close to this one before. So why wasn’t I numbing? I should have been able to compose a straight face, or act like it wasn’t affecting me, but it was. I was beginning to sob like a baby and it was exactly what Jaime wanted. That had to be why he was doing this. He wanted me to break. He wanted me to choose not to die. He just didn’t understand that I didn’t have a choice. What he saw was a woman with a heart. A woman who was sympathizing and possibly even showing remorse and guilt over her own choice. Didn’t he realize that was the problem? I felt
too much
. I was a whore to my emotions, and they were fucking me at every chance they got. I couldn’t take this anymore.

“How much longer?”

His jaw tightened as he turned to me. “How much longer …
Master.
And you’ll keep watching until I say.”

“Play these videos all you want, but they change nothing. I wish they could.”

Jaime remained quiet while he stared down at me. Given the way his eyebrows were drawn in, I knew he was thinking. I didn’t get to try to figure out what it was before Mr. Rogers’ voice pulled me back to the screen.

“Patty. Patty was … lying on the bed, curled around my pillow. Her mascara was streaked down her face. It was so dark against her pale skin. Pale,”
he mumbled.
“She was so … drained of color. I froze, then, when I noticed. The floor, my world, it vanished when I saw her like that. I don’t how long I stood there. The next thing I remembered was running my hands down her face and screaming out her name. I was shaking her, begging … her.”

Mr. Rogers was at full-blown sobs now, and I was right there with him, crying harder than I could ever remember. I felt his pain. It was making it hard to breathe as he continued.

“I called 9-1-1 but I never let her go. I must have apologized a million times—I’m sorry for being a horrible husband. I’m sorry for not listening to you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I was sorry for everything. Little good it did. My wife never woke up. She never came back to life. It’s amazing.”
Mr. Rogers’ eyes rose to the man interviewing him.
“I knew I loved her. She had my heart. But when I lost her … nothing came close to comparing to what she truly meant to me. I suddenly saw our connection for what it was. True love, buried under obligations and routine, over time. And I let her down. I didn’t fight for that love like I should have. I didn’t make her my number one priority like a good husband’s meant to do. I failed her. I failed in my vows to her as her husband, and I failed in something as simple as being her friend. She needed me and I was so distracted that I didn’t see it. Heaven help me, I’m so lost without Patty. I don’t think I can do this anymore. There’s times … I think about joining her—”

The screen clicked off and my head jerked to Jaime. He stepped to the side, placing the remote on the table.

“What are you doing? Why did you turn it off?”

“We’re going to do an exercise.”

My head shook as I glanced back at the television. “I don’t want to do an exercise. What happened to him? Did he…? Is he dead, too?”

Jaime walked to the desk, grabbing a piece of blank paper and a crayon from the top. “I want you to come sit and write down three good qualities about yourself.”

“What?” I clamped my mouth shut at his hard look, and stood. The walk to the desk was fast and full of aggravation. He made me watch all of these interviews and the moment I didn’t want to stop, he left me full of questions.

“Good.” Jaime’s hand settled on my shoulder as I lowered to the chair. His touch was light, but it didn’t stop me from feeling him so strongly. It was as if his contact flipped some invisible switch inside of me. The powerful energy couldn’t be mistaken. It was so dominant and unbending that my true self softened. And maybe I did on the outside as well. I was leaning back closer to him as his weight grew heavier on me. The aggravation I had felt only moments ago was suddenly gone and I couldn’t ignore the truth as I looked up at our reflection in the mirror ahead.

“Three good qualities, slave.”

The edge of his thumb trailed down my neck and I shivered as my skin tightened into goosebumps. I was trembling. I wanted him. I wanted Jaime, just like I did on the St. Andrew’s cross. My fingers traced over the bandage on my wrist. Jaime had cleaned and wrapped the cuts efficiently, cold as ice toward me.

The cutting I had undergone with his razor didn’t change anything that we had shared. Not on my end. I had made a mistake taking that blade to my arm. I knew that. Panic had hurled me forward until the blood was suddenly there leaving me, just like the anxiety and pain I harbored. At least, that’s what I was telling myself. Truth was, I had a problem. One I had carried for so many years that I couldn’t see a way out. Not even if I wanted to stop the addiction. That scared me.

“I’m nice.”

“Nice, how?”

I frowned, looking up to his face in the mirror. “Actually, it’s probably not a very good quality. Not for me. You see, I’m too nice. People take advantage. But I think you knew that.”

“Only because you allow them. You can be nice and still demand respect. I’ll teach you. Now write that down.”

My fingers dropped from the bandage and I wrote bigger than usual, hoping my messy handwriting was clear enough for Jaime to read.

“What else?”

“I’m dependable?”

“Are you? You don’t sound so sure.”

“When I’m not being suffocated by this depression, I am.”

The light touch traveled up my neck and my lids lowered while I soaked in the contact. It had been too long since someone had given me any form of affection. I didn’t want him to stop.

“I believe you’re a dependable person. Write it down.”

Where I thought he would stop at my nod, my Master didn’t. The caress slid up and down continuously as I tried to focus on spelling the word.

“You’re doing very well. One more good quality, slave.”

Seconds passed while I scoured my mind for something—anything. My pulse was racing the longer Jaime showed me attention. And he was spanning more distance now. Higher his fingers rose, brushing behind my ear, and then dropping to where my shift rested on my shoulder. I wanted to lean more into him. To turn and … what? Beg him to kiss me?

Fuck, my mind was spinning, but I knew what I wanted.

“I’m honest.” I turned to sit sideways on my chair, looking up at him. “I’m honest and I believe you are too. What is this, Master? What are your intentions for doing this?”

Jaime’s hand began lowering to his side and I couldn’t stop myself from reaching for it. The moment I pushed my fingers through his and rose, something I could only detect as unease flashed in his depths.

“Tell me you want me. I know you do. Be honest with me. You asked if I felt it too. That means you feel something for me.”

“Sit back down.”

The need to argue was there, but so was my fear of him pulling back like he had the last time. Slowly, I sat, analyzing every small expression that flashed over his face.

“Good. Now turn and write that down.”

Reluctance plagued me, but I turned back to the desk and obeyed. Halfway through the word his fingers returned, this time teasingly sliding along my hairline while he wrapped his hand around the back of my neck. I froze, waiting as he lowered even with my ear.

“I am honest. We both know I want you. We also both know why I can’t.”

“Because I’m probably going to die?”

Jaime paused. “No. Because I am your Master and as my slave, you are not there yet.”

“Not there? What do you mean? Are you saying …” I met his eyes in the mirror and only one thing came to mind. It was enough to bring my anger back. “Are you saying that I’m not competent enough to make the decision on whether or not I should have sex with you?”

“Yes. I think until you can decide beyond a shadow of a doubt whether you want to live or die, you’re not capable.”

“The decision is not mine. I see no way around the inevitable. Am I selfish for wanting you that way despite what I know will probably happen? Perhaps. But I’m honest. I want you. The question is, do you want me too?”

Jaime’s eyes narrowed while the seconds passed. “I’m sorry. I can’t give you that part of me until you face the fact that you
do
have a choice. I see we’re finished.” He took a step back, pinning me with emotionless eyes. “You think you’re only option is death. You don’t want to fight to live. If that’s your mindset, lessons are over.”