Master of My Mind BN (2 page)

Dropping the lid down, I threw my head back. An inhuman cry
of anguish erupted from deep in my belly, and fury exploded outward. Seeing
red, I shoved the receptacle onto its side and fell to my knees. Tears streamed
down my face as I poked through the slop, cursing and screaming in search of
one miniscule memento of my life with George that the malicious bitches hadn’t
destroyed.

“Hey. Stop,
Leagh
.
Stop!”
Tony’s urgent command and strong arms wrapped me from
behind, strangling my hot rage. Pinning my arms against my sides, he rendered
me immobile. I shrieked and struggled, resenting the hell out of his
interference.

“Calm down. There’s nothing left for you here.”

“I know that, goddammit! Do you think I’m blind? Those
whores destroyed it all. They took every piece of him away from me. I have
nothing.
Nothing!”
I screamed.

“Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

“No!” I snapped. “There’s got to be something in there.
Something they haven’t ruined. Let me go. I need to find it. I need to find…
something
.”

“Don’t do this, sweetheart. Don’t let them wreck your soul.
Come on. We need to get out of the rain.”

“Fuck you! Fuck them! Fuck the rain! Fuck everything!”
Ranting, I tossed the stick aside and clawed from Tony’s grasp. Scooting away,
tears flowed as Sloane and Hayden’s malice shredded what was left of my heart.

Tony crouched, staring at me as rain dripped down his face.
His wet dark hair was plastered against his head. And his dark tailored suit
had grown wrinkled and soggy. Gazing into his eyes, I watched his concerned
expression transform to a sympathetic frown. My blood boiled.

“I don’t need you or your goddamn pity. Go away. Just leave
me alone.”

“Pity?”
Tony shook his head. “It’s
definitely not pity, and there’s no way in hell I’m leaving you here. Not like
this.”

“You have to. Get out. It’s for your own good. You can't be
here if they come back.”

Narrowing his eyes in suspicion, he tilted his head.
“Why not?”

“Because I’m going to kill them.
I’m going to take the knife or scissors or whatever they used to do shred
everything I own and I’m going to slice their fucking throats. That’s why!”

Tony’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he
eased toward me. “You can’t do that,
Leagh
. You’d
spend the rest of your life in jail. George wouldn’t want that.”

“I don’t care. Don’t you get it?” I sobbed. “I don’t care
about anything, anymore.”

My shoulders slumped, and every cell in my body succumbed to
the piercing shards of grief. Wilted and sobbing, I gazed into Tony’s chocolate
eyes, feeling more alone than I ever had in my life.

“But, I do, angel,” Tony whispered in a soft plea as he
pulled me to his chest. I clung to him as if he were a lifeline, one I wasn’t
sure I deserved but was grateful for nonetheless. “I’m taking you home with me.
We’ll figure out the rest, later.”

I wanted to fight him…kick and scream until he left me to
wallow in my misery. But most of all I wanted to howl at George for leaving me
alone, scared, and unprotected. Yet I couldn’t find the strength. I was
exhausted and suffocating beneath the injustice of it all. Without challenge,
Tony plucked me off the ground, cradled me in his arms, and carried me back to
his car.

Easing me onto the soft leather seat, Tony clicked the
safety belt at my hip. Hayden’s wretched letter sat on the dashboard next to my
purse and keys. My stomach swirled as her threats gnawed at me. Tony glanced at
the envelope with a sour expression, and I was certain he’d read its contents.
The fact that he’d meddled into my private business would have normally stung
my pride, but at the moment, I didn’t have the energy to give a damn.

He opened up the glove-box and handed me a package of wet
towelettes
. Wiping my hands as he pulled away from the
house, I didn’t look back…I couldn’t. Tony was right; there was nothing left
for me there. All tangible reminders of my life with George were gone.
Destroyed.
Those vile bitches had taken everything but my
memories. I worried even those wouldn’t be enough to soothe this unrelenting
pain.

Hayden’s frightening threats spooled in my head; no matter
how hard I tried, I couldn’t push them away. If a whisper of George’s
association with Genesis got out, I’d be the one she and Sloane would come
after. I needed to ask Mika to talk to the members and ask them not to breathe
a word. Both he and Julianna had extended their home and hearts over the past
four days I hated asking them for more favors. Needing help from others made me
feel inadequate and incapable of taking care of myself. Hell, it took me months
before I began to rely on George.

Squeezing my eyes tight, memories of the horrific night he
died flooded my brain.

George and I had spent a lovely Sunday snuggled by the fire.
I remember thinking how much I treasured our weekends when he was more relaxed
and playful and not distracted by his busy docket schedule. We’d talked about
taking a vacation to Taos, New Mexico, in the spring. George loved the desert,
but his passion was perusing the numerous art galleries. He had an amazing eye
for contemporary art.

In hindsight, I should have known something more sinister
than heartburn was at play when a pained expression settled over his face, and
he rubbed his chest.

 
“Are you alright?”
I’d asked him.

“Yes, girl.
I’m fine. Just a bit of
indigestion is all. Come; let’s go to bed. I’ll take some antacid after I’m
done teasing and tormenting you. But right now, I want to hear you moan and
scream my name.” A wolfish grin had spread across George’s lips as he stood and
offered me his hand. I took it, marveling at the soft velvet skin of his
fingers.

I remember staring at the salt and pepper scruff shading his
chin as he tied me to the bed and placed the quick release line in my palm.
Every time George tied me up, he insisted I had an escape, in case of
emergency. Not often did I fixate on our forty-three year age difference—except
during bondage play. George’s zest for life had always made him seem younger
than his sixty-nine years. And with my fist squeezed around the safety loop, I
sent up a silent prayer that I wouldn’t have to use it.

I should have prayed harder.

Guilt washed over me, filling my veins with icy regret.
Sitting in Tony’s car, my life tattered and torn, I’d have given anything to
hear George’s voice…just once more. Swallowed up by a surge of anguish, I had
no idea how I was going to survive without him. He’d been the center of my
whole world.

From day one the distinguished judge made me—a below minimum
wage waitress at a popular café near the courthouse—feel special. Each morning
he walked through the door, I found myself pausing to admire the aura of
command that rolled off him. George had been impressed that by my third day on
the job, I’d met him at his regular booth with his usual order of coffee and
Danish. By the fifth day, Friday, he thanked me for his breakfast and invited
me to sit with him for a few minutes.

Conversations with George were never brief; the man loved to
talk. A bittersweet smile tugged the corner of my mouth. More than once my boss
threatened to fire me for neglecting my other customers, but I didn’t care.
Every second I spent with George was like Christmas morning. I found myself
going to bed, looking forward to my next day at work and his visits.

He was sweet and kind and larger than life. His quick wit
and carefree mien only intensified his intelligence and compassion. Sometimes,
he’d stay after the breakfast crowd had thinned. He’d ask me questions with
such genuine concern that I’d spilled my shameful secrets and lofty dreams…
things I’d never told another living soul.

George never judged or condemned the choices I’d made, the
ones that caused me to flee Atlanta in the middle of the night. He simply
listened with a benevolent heart, lending sage advice on ways for me to live a
happy life and remain safe.

From the very start, he’d wrapped me in his protection, even
going so far as to file a restraining order on my behalf. It was his nature. He
was forever asking if I had enough money to pay my bills or buy groceries. Even
when I assured him I was managing just fine, he would fold a generous tip into
my palm with explicit instructions.

“Go buy yourself something lacy and naughty. And when I come
in tomorrow, you’re going to tell me if you’re wearing it under your uniform.”
His words teemed with innuendo, and he’d flash me a wolfish grin that always
set me ablaze. His command was intoxicating and arousing, and like a drug, I
was hooked.

Before long George asked me to jot down my weekly schedule
for him. Popping by on the nights I worked the late shift, when the café was
quiet, we’d sit and chat over a piece of pie or an ice cream sundae. He made me
laugh, and for the first time in a long time, the darkness gave way and there
was light filtering through my life. He’d given me a priceless gift.

Although George could never be termed drop dead gorgeous,
his charismatic soul stole my breath. He was my knight in shining armor and
before I knew it, I’d fallen head over heels for the man.

As if on auto-pilot, my thoughts circled back to the fateful
night he’d tied me to our bed. The pleasure he induced was euphoric, but even
when the wave crested, I was hauntingly aware something was terribly wrong.

Fear, white and hot, sliced through my bliss. I raised my
head and peered down between my legs. George’s head lolled onto the mattress,
His body deathly still.

“Master?”
I shrieked.

He didn’t answer.

Didn’t move.

Didn’t flinch.

“George!” I screamed. Adrenalin thundered through me.

Nothing.

“Oh god.
No. No!” I wailed.

An inky surge of panic consumed me. Fighting the restraints,
I tugged and yanked, desperate to break free. Remembering the quick release
line clutched in my palm, I yanked hard, but nothing happened. The ropes
remained firmly cinched. Terror seized me as I thrashed against the bindings.
Pulling and tugging the rope in my palm, it finally loosened. With a shout of
relief, I clawed the cords off my wrists. Rising up on my elbows, I dug my
heels into the mattress, scooted backward,
then
leapt
to my hands and knees. Scampering to the end of the bed, I discovered that
George wasn’t breathing.

I reached beneath his jaw but couldn’t feel a pulse. My
heart pounded in my ears, and tears stung my eyes. Wrestling against his
substantial weight I managed to roll him onto his side, but momentum carried
him onto his back, and I was helpless to keep him from sliding to the floor.
His eyes were open, staring straight through me. His glistening mouth was slack
and agape.

“No! No!” I cried. Bounding off the bed, I crouched next to
his motionless body, and screamed his name. There was no response.

I pressed my ear to his chest, hearing nothing but deafening
silence. Terror spread through my limbs in tingling pinpricks. Jumping from his
lifeless body, I raced to the phone. I had no memory of what I’d said to the
emergency operator. I only remembered that her litany of questions drove my
panic level higher. I didn’t want to talk; I wanted help for George.

“Just send a fucking ambulance!” I screamed and hung up.
Racing to the foyer, I disengaged the security system and unlocked the front
door.

Sprinting back to our bedroom, I heard the phone begin to
ring. Ignoring the incessant sound, I straddled his soft belly. Tears spilled
onto the silvery hairs of his chest, and the sound of my screams echoed off the
walls. Flattening my palm against his sternum, I pressed my other hand over it
and began CPR compressions to his heart.

“Come back to life… back to me. Don’t leave me. Please don’t
leave me, Master.” I wailed. “I need you. No one can keep me safe but you.
Please. Please. Don’t leave me. I’m so scared.”

Pinching his nose closed with my fingers, I pressed my mouth
to his. A sob tore from my throat as his lips fluttered lifelessly beneath
mine.

“Breathe, George. Please…Breathe,” I begged as I repeated
the steps over and over. But it was no use, I couldn’t revive him.

With a mournful roar, I fell to his chest. Nuzzling my face
against his neck, I howled as all my dreams disintegrated.

“No!” I barked. Sitting up, I started administering CPR once
again. “You’re going to live, goddamn it! I won’t let you leave me like this.
I’m not going to let you give up on us.”

Time seemed to have stopped, trapping me in a never ending
loop of compressions and exhales into his sagging lips. Sobbing and counting, I
stared at George’s pallid face as I continued to pump on his chest, unwilling—unable—unready
to give up.

“I knew you’d have to leave me someday but not yet. God,
please not yet. I’m not ready to lose you. I need you. Come back to me, George.
Come back and love me and keep me safe. Please. Please, George. We’re going to
Taos. Remember? We’ll make love under the stars. I’ll buy some silky red
naughty’s
and model them for you. You love it when I do
that. Breathe for me, baby. Please.
Just one breath.
Oh.
God.
Please!” Tears spilled down my cheeks, snot
dripped from my nose, but I refused to stop bargaining him back to life. “You
can take me to Brisbane’s for dinner tomorrow night. You love their grilled
salmon. I’ll order it, too, and you know how I hate salmon. Come on, George.
Wake up for me. Please. Please!”

The sound of sirens grew near, and I longed to tug the sheet
off the bed, drape it over his naked body, and grant him a sliver of dignity.
But I couldn’t stop giving him CPR...Couldn’t let go of the hope that he would
draw in a gasp of breath and come back to me.