The Penance of Black Betty (5 page)

              The home she remembered was in Florida with Trent. Had he done this to her? Beaten the pulp out of her in Los Angeles and left her?

              There didn’t seem to be any other explanation. He hadn’t come to the hospital. The gossip newspaper she read confirmed that she was with Alistair. She only wished she could wrap her head around all of it.

              Ten years gone—
just like that.

              In those years, she’d been a woman she couldn’t even comprehend being. If she wasn’t that woman now, would Alistair even want her? What would happen to her if he didn’t? She had no one else in the world.

              So many questions and no answers. Her mind whirled and ached. She wanted to lay down and sleep, but she settled for resting her head back against the seat.

              “We’re taking a private jet,” Alistair said, reaching up and stroking her brow. “There’s a small bedroom on board. You can take a nap and when you wake we’ll be in paradise.”

              “Okay,” she whispered, overwhelmed by how attentive he was. She was used to being taken care of by Trent—but everything came with a price—and started keeping a mental tally of what she owed Alistair for being kind.

              She studied his face. Did he prefer to be paid like Trent, with her mouth around his cock while he choked her? Other times Trent took his payment out on her body, using any blunt object he could find to shove inside her, humiliate her. Then he’d be gentle and kind again, touching her lightly, making her come. She savored those moments. They got her through the rest—the payments and punishments.

              “What are you thinking?” Alistair asked, bringing her out of the past to the strange and unknown present.

              She wasn’t sure how to ask what they were like together, what the rules where, so she shook her head. “Nothing.”

              She figured she’d find out soon enough.

              They boarded the plane and buckled in for take-off. Once up in the air, she fidgeted in her seat. She wanted to get on with her life—whatever that was.

              “Come on,” Alistair said, standing. “I’ll show you the bedroom.”

              He held out a hand and she took it. He led her to the back of the plane where he opened a door. Inside was a bed and no room for much more. She followed him in. “I want you to know,” he said, taking her by the shoulders, “I’ll provide you with everything you need. You recover and I’ll take care of everything else.”

              There it was. The invoice. Bethany hated owing payback, so she dropped to her knees and reached for his zipper only to be jerked up onto her feet again.

              “What are you doing?” Alistair gripped her arms, hard, then let go.

              She didn’t understand. “Paying you back for taking care of me.”

              His eyes widened in confusion and…horror? “We don’t—that’s not…” He groaned in frustration. “You don’t need to pay me back for loving you, Bethany. I do that freely.”

              A lump of humiliation crawled up her throat. “I can’t expect you to do that,” she said. “I don’t know you like I used to.”

              He closed his eyes and exhaled in defeat. “That doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

              Bethany slumped down onto the end of the bed. “I don’t know who I am anymore.” The tears rolled unbidden, down her cheeks. “I don’t know who you want me to be—who you expect.”

              He eased down beside her. “I only expect you to be whoever you are. I know you’re not the same woman who I left at home the day I went to Seattle to film. You’re the woman she kept hidden away deep inside. The one she was afraid to let out.”

              “I don’t understand.”

              “What your ex did to you in the past…let’s just say this last trip to the hospital wasn’t your worst from my understanding. You’re lucky to be alive. You ran from him, Bethany. Ran for your life. When you got away, you vowed never to be that vulnerable again. You locked yourself—this woman you are right now who remembers nothing I’m telling you—locked her away, shut her in a closet and refused to let her out. But she’s you. You’re her. You’ve turned the tables on her. Unintentionally, but she’s the one locked away now. I get to spend time with this other side of you and maybe, someday, the two of you will come together and find a balance.”

              “Black Betty,” she said and watched Alistair’s face turn to surprise.

              “You remember?”

              “No. I read it in a newspaper article. I was a dominatrix?” Bethany felt her face heat just saying the word aloud.

              “Yes.” Alistair seemed to be holding his breath.

              “Did I…did I do that to you?”

              He let out a sharp laugh. “Only what I let you do. I’m not a very good submissive.”

              “I am. That’s why I can’t believe it.” She tried to picture herself standing over a collared Alistair. Couldn’t conjure the image.

              “You’re a good Dom, too,” He said. “I guess you’d had enough submitting and wanted to try the other side of the whip for once.”

              Alistair took her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Listen. Don’t try to force the pieces into place. They’ll all fit back together eventually.” He kissed her forehead. “Get some rest. I’ll come wake you when we land.”

              He left the room, shutting the door behind him. Bethany scooted up onto the bed and rested her head on the pillow. To be taken care of without any strings attached? Alistair Ingram had to be too good to be true, and if it seemed too good to be true, it probably was.

             
TEN

              “You find him and you get an exclusive spread,” Alistair said, talking in his cell phone back in his seat on the plane.

              Buckley was the biggest pain in the arse paparazzi Alistair had ever come across. He’d been hounded by Buckley for years, no matter where he tried to hide.

              “If anyone can find the bloody bastard, you can.” Alistair said.

              “You land in Cozumel in thirty minutes,” Buckley said, proving Alistair’s point. “But I’m no private detective.”

              Alistair dangled the carrot he knew Buckley couldn’t refuse. “We’re buying a new place when we get back from Cozumel. You get pictures—inside and out. Whatever you want.”

              Buckley grumbled an indecipherable string of words on the other end of the line. “Fine. What’s his name?”

              “Trent and I have an address from ten years ago.” Alistair rattled off the address Bethany had written down on the notepad the night she woke up in the hospital.

              “That’s it?” Buckley groaned. “That’s not much to go on.”

              “More than you usually have about my whereabouts, but you always find me.”

              “I follow your ass around. It’s not hard to know where you’re going. But, some guy named Trent and a ten year old address? I don’t know, man. I’ll see what I can do.”

              “You can find him. I’ll check in with you in a few days.”

              He ended the call and looked out at the blue water far, far beneath the plane. If Buckley found Trent, then what? There was no evidence he was the one who broke in and battered Bethany. The police weren’t looking for him. Was Alistair going to have him killed? How could he keep this man out of Bethany’s life?

              Fucking hell, he didn’t know. All he knew was that he had to find the man. That first, then he’d figure out the rest.

              When the plane landed in the familiar airport near Cancun, there was a car waiting for them. They drove the short distance to the ferry and arrived in Cozumel shortly after six PM.

              Alistair had made sure to rent the same cabana they’d stayed in the time before, hoping to jog a memory in Bethany’s mind. He watched her wander around the place, peering at photographs of bright fish on the walls and running her fingers along the furniture.

              So far—nothing. He couldn’t help the disappointment that sank into his bones. He knew enough not to expect her to walk in the cabana and have an epiphany, everything flooding back at once, but he hoped there would be a tiny spark. Something.

              “Let’s put our bathing suits on and go out on the beach,” he suggested. “We can get a swim in and some sun before dinner.”

              Her wide eyes wandered back to him and she nodded. “Okay.”

              Hell, she looked so scared. I guessed he couldn’t blame her. She didn’t know him, and was in a foreign country. It was too much. He should’ve taken her home. “I’m sorry,” he said. “This has to be overwhelming. I didn’t think--”

              “No,” she said. “It’s fine. It’s great.” She smiled and it seemed genuine enough.

              He leaned on the back of a chair. “Please, tell me if you want to leave. We’ll go. I won’t be upset.”

              “I don’t want to go. I’ll tell you if I do.”

              “Promise?”

              “I promise.”

              It was so weird practically begging Bethany to tell him what she wanted. Bethany—Black Betty—always made her intentions crystal clear. It was becoming obvious that neither of them knew the other. At least he still had the advantage of remembering who she was.

              Or was that a disadvantage since he expected her to morph into that woman when she recovered? If she recovered. What if Black Betty was gone for good? Would he love this meek, mild, dainty version of her as much?

              He couldn’t think of what if’s right now. It was too soon. They just had to get through today, then another day and another. One at a time.

             
ELEVEN

              Waves rushed up Bethany’s calves. Sand and water churned around her feet. The sun beat down on her pale, bruised skin. The last time she remembered being at the ocean was right after her first divorce with her best friend at the time. She was only nineteen, had been married for six months to a guy she’d met in high school who fucked every woman who’d let him fuck her. The friend said she’d just met the man of her dreams. He was older and had a bedroom full of sex toys.

              Bethany’s friend brought her into the lifestyle and introduced her to Trent.

              Alistair picked up a shell and rinsed it off in the surf. He was so different from all the guys she remembered being with. Not that there were many, only high school guys before Trent. It seemed like Alistair only wanted to be with her, without motives, without the power struggle—not that she ever struggled much.

              It was confusing. She didn’t understand normal relationships. What binds you together if nobody has control over the other? If you’re both free to do what you want? Love? Does she… did she love Alistair Ingram? How would she know?

              When she looked at Alistair there was a warm rush in her chest, sometimes a tingling between her thighs. Her body seemed to remember him.

              A wave crashed against the beach sending the surf rushing toward her. When the water hit, she stumbled and fell in the sand. The undertow pulled her toward the water. Alistair grasped her arm and fell beside her, laughing. As the water rushed out and they lay side by side in the surf, a flash of an image came to her mind.

              “Why would I be picturing candy bar wrappers?” she asked him. “Snickers.”

              He sat up, abruptly. “You remember that?”

              “I remember Snickers bar wrappers in the sand. Is that important?”

              He grinned, a wide, beaming grin. “The wrappers themselves aren’t important, but the remembering is. The last time we were here, I stocked the place with Snickers, your favorite. You brought them down here with you and ate them sitting in the surf.”

              “Snickers are my favorite, but I’m not allowed--” She clamped my mouth shut. Trent didn’t want a fat woman. If he caught her with sweets, well…it was bad.

              Alistair must’ve known what she was going to say. “You can have all the Snickers you want, Bethany. A thousand a day if that makes you happy.”

              She couldn’t help but laugh. “A thousand a day will make me sick.”

              He laid back down beside her. The water rushed up and almost covered their bodies, then ran back to the ocean, stealing sand from underneath them. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am that you remembered something,” he said.