Explore Her, More of Her (2 page)

“Damn,” he said under his breath. It had been Monday morning when he was accosted by Charlie and his buddies.
 

Belmont rewound the video until he pinpointed the moment of his arrival. He scowled as he saw himself, out cold and on a stretcher, being wheeled off a helicopter by Charlie, Vince, and another man he scarcely recognized.
 

Belmont took a closer look. “Stanley Roswell?”
 

Stanley was Charlie’s friend, and he was a doctor of some sort, which type eluded Belmont. A lanky middle-aged man met them at the front door. The stranger had already been in the house, which didn’t sit well with Belmont. The men quickly shook hands and hurried inside.
 

Belmont switched to the interior cameras and rewound the video until he matched the timestamp from the outside video. Charlie and Vince sweated profusely as they wheeled him down the long hallway. When they reached the back of the house, Charlie flipped up the cover over the security pad and pressed his thumb to the reader. Belmont clenched his jaw, regretting his decision to give Charlie access to the secured room. The door slid open, and they took the lift down instead of the stairs. They entered the safe room, carefully lifted Belmont off the stretcher, and put him on the bed. Belmont turned on the audio just in time to hear Charlie complain about “Jack’s” dead weight. Vince agreed he was heavy.
 

“This is fucking nuts,” Vince said.
 

Belmont could see the regret on Vince’s face.
 

“We’re already here now, so let’s just get it over with,” Charlie said, also regretfully.

Stanley prepared a syringe. “He’s going to bruise around that eye. This should help.” Stanley injected Belmont with the serum.
 

“What’s that you’re giving him?” Charlie asked.

“Something to accelerate the healing.”

Charlie nodded, but Belmont noticed Charlie’s stressed expression. “I think he knows it was me.”

“Well, he can’t retaliate in this condition,” Stanley said.

Vince nervously scratched the back of his neck. “When is he going to wake up?”
 

“Three or four hours.” Stanley shook his head. “I don’t like leaving him unattended.”

“Me neither,” Vince said.

“He’ll be fine. Right?” Charlie asked the unidentified middle-aged man who was strapping the monitor around Belmont’s ankle.

The man motioned to Stanley. “He is the medical doctor.” He spoke with a French accent.

“That’s right, and if anyone finds out I did this, I’ll lose my fucking license,” Stanley said.

“No one’s going to find out,” Charlie said.
 

Belmont sneered. Charlie was always sure the foul shit he chose to do would have no consequences, but there were always consequences. Belmont had bailed him out of all of them.
 

Belmont shook his hands. “I could’ve died, you nitwit!”

Stanley shot Charlie a skeptical glance then placed nodules on Belmont’s chest. “I’ll monitor him closely. If his vitals become concerning, then you fly me back to this fucking island, and we put an end to this shit. Got it?”

Charlie didn’t respond.
 

Stanley gave Charlie a look that said he meant business. “Or I’ll wake him the hell up.”
 

“Jack will be fine,” Charlie said as if he were trying to convince himself. “He always is. Plus, he’s going to want to kiss the ground we walk on when his better half gets here.”

“Daisy…” Belmont whispered.
So she would be arriving
.
 

“Yeah, but he won’t be able to touch her.” Vince shook his head. “That’s sinisterly cruel…”

“It won’t be forever,” Charlie said.

“I still don’t see anything wrong with how much they do it. You do it a lot. So do I. It’s healthy,” Vince said, looking at the lanky man for corroboration.

“Their sexual relations are not excessive. I will use sex as an unconditional stimulus,” the lanky man said.

Vince and Charlie looked as if they were confused by the man’s clinical speak. However, Belmont understood him. The lanky man was a doctor, and he was planning to keep them apart sexually and only let them fuck as a reward. Belmont sniffed.
In his fucking dreams.

“Whatever,” Charlie said. “The point is, Dr. Calvet knows what the hell he’s doing. Jack and Daisy are going to be fixed when he’s done with them.”

Belmont bit down on his back teeth. He’d heard that name before.
Dr. Calvet
.

“These methods
are
inordinate. I too am risking my reputation, but I am doing this as a favor for a friend,” Dr. Calvet said.

Suddenly Belmont remembered Charlie had asked him to call or meet a marriage therapist who was a Frenchman. Belmont had said he’d think about it but never gave it another thought. He scrutinized Dr. Calvet, who had finished activating the ankle monitors.
 

“Tuck him in,” Stanley said. “Jack will be lethargic when the anesthesia wears off. He won’t be fully awake until tomorrow, but other than a little soreness from the bruises on his face, he’ll feel like new.”

Vince and Charlie seemed fine with that prognosis. Belmont watched all four men file out of the room. Another helicopter arrived with food, and they stocked the refrigerator in the main kitchen and the one in the room where he was being kept. One of Charlie’s electrician buddies was on the copter, and he tested the control panels to make sure Dr. Calvet had complete control from his home in France, which explained the extra wires and filters in the safe room. The guy was good, but his work was rushed and sloppy.

After he watched both helicopters lift off, Belmont touched his ankle bracelet. It didn’t bother him, but at least Charlie’s shenanigans weren’t more sinister. The entire plan had Angelina written all over it. She had a flair for the dramatic, one of the many ways she differed from Daisy.
 

Unfortunately, all of their planning would go up in a ball of smoke, though not immediately. He liked the idea of him and Daisy fixing their relationship. Something was definitely wrong. They had never been on the same page, but Daisy just wouldn’t give him anything to go on. He needed something, but hell if he knew what that was.
 

Belmont flipped between cameras to evaluate the lay of the island in real-time. The speedboats had been removed from the docks on both sides of the island, and not one caretaker roamed the grounds. On average, six workers stayed on the island to tame the brush and wipe back the dust in and around the six guesthouses. Each had its own swimming pool, which also had to be maintained.
 

Belmont had initially intended to turn the island into a vacation resort, but he fell in love with the terrain. He had paid top dollar for a deserted island with sloping bluffs with flat planes, which made it good for building. The main house was built on the highest point of the island, facing west. The sunsets were therapeutic. Belmont had never named the island. He had been waiting for something remarkable to happen in his life, an event or person he wanted to memorialize. Why hadn’t he ever thought to name his piece of Heaven Daisy?

All of a sudden, one of the cameras showed a helicopter hovering over the helipad. Belmont smirked. Daisy had arrived while he was thinking of her. That confirmed it. He would name the island “Daisy’s Heart.” Belmont held his breath as Stanley and another guy carefully unloaded the stretcher with Daisy on top. She was out cold, and he didn’t like seeing her that way. She looked dead, lying there with an IV drip feeding her the knockout drugs.
 

Belmont was taken aback when he saw Angelina step out of the helicopter, carrying a suitcase. The pilot took the suitcase from her, and she clenched the handrail of the stretcher. Belmont tried to recall if he had ever seen that strained look on Angelina’s face. Angelina and all the men carted Daisy into the house, down the hallway, and into the room he called the mouth because the trees that surrounded the patio furniture looked like lips, and the furniture resembled teeth. Belmont hadn’t planned it that way—it just happened.
 

The mouth was one of the only rooms Belmont hadn’t installed cameras in, so he couldn’t watch what was happening. He kept his gaze fixed on the monitor showing the doorway. He was eager for everyone but Daisy to leave.
 

Finally, one attendant walked out of the room. Three minutes later, Stanley and Angelina left. Angelina was wiping away tears, and Stanley had an arm around her shoulder. As soon as the helicopter lifted off, Belmont heard a click. Someone was using the control center. He decided to let them keep their access for the time being. He ran out the door to Daisy.
 

***

Daisy

I sit on a black leather sofa in a room that reminds me of a TV station control room. Belmont has just filled me in on where we are and why we’re here . We’re on his privately owned island in the Bahamas. I feel as if I’m living in a dream. It would be a nightmare without Belmont. However, the shock collar around my ankle feels as if it’s around my neck, choking me. It’s already made me break out in an itchy rash.
 

“Babe, you have to stop doing that,” Belmont says when he catches me scratching my ankle.
 

I look at him solemnly. “But I’m itchy.”

He takes a step in my direction but doesn’t come closer. “Take some deep breaths. It’ll help.”

“I don’t see how that can help.”

“The discomfort is in your head.”

“No, it isn’t. It’s around my ankle.”
 

Belmont and I gaze into each other’s eyes. I hate getting huffy with him, especially while under duress. Maybe he’s right. I take a couple deep breaths. Plus, I’m willing to try anything.

“What happened to your eye?” I ask.

“Charlie and Vince had to fight me to bring me here.”

I shake my head in disbelief. “Does it hurt?”

His gaze caresses me. “Not anymore.”

My heart skips a beat. That one long, sensual look is enough to make me get a grip. I drop my foot off the seat. “Okay, I’ll stop scratching.”
 

Belmont smiles faintly, and so do I. He powers on a sizable system of television monitors, electrical control boards, and switches. A man with mildly graying hair around his temples fills the screen. He’s sitting in front of a bookcase stacked with psychology books.

“We’re here. Now what is this about?” Belmont growls.

The man takes a moment to appraise me. “I am Dr. Calvet.”

Suddenly I hear Angelina’s voice speak his name in my head. “You’re Luc Calvet, the psychiatrist?”

 
He straightens his posture. “I am Luc.”

“You’re a friend of my father’s.”
 

“Jacques and I are good friends.”

“But Angelina put you up to this?” I ask.

“Angelina asked for me to help.”
 

“Does she know about the shock bracelets?” I snarl.

“May I call you Daisy?” he asks.

“Sure.” My tone is gruff.

“The ankle monitors are part of your therapy.”

The word therapy resounds inside my head like a shotgun blast. “Therapy? I did not agree to therapy. And if I were undergoing therapy, then I’m at a loss as to how outfitting us with ankle monitors as if we’re criminals will help.” My skin turns hot as it does when I’m angry.
 

Belmont holds up his hands. “Calm down, babe.”

“Mr. Lord—” Dr. Calvet says.

Belmont grimaces at him. “It’s Belmont.”

“Belmont, does your wife’s discomfort make you uncomfortable?”

The question seems to catch Belmont off guard. He parts his lips as if he wants to speak, but he’s lost for words.
 

I feel as if I have to say something to save him. “You don’t have to give us shock therapy to keep us away from each other. We’re adults.” I make sure to use a less contentious tone.

“I do agree with you.”

“Great, then how do we get them off? I feel like there’s a noose around my neck.”

“The keys are buried in the sand.”

Belmont and I look at each other as if that’s the most ridiculous thing we’ve ever heard. This whole situation is like something out of a B-movie, and Belmont and I are the talentless lead actors.
 

“Once you have progressed, I will send you the map,” Dr. Calvet says.

I don’t know whether I should laugh or cry.

Belmont’s frown deepens. “Neither Daisy nor I have agreed to treatment. Don’t think we will be bullied into this clusterfuck.”

Dr. Calvet’s gaze shifts between Belmont and me. “I see. You must choose my help. I cannot proceed if you do not agree, but I do hope you agree, because I can help you.”

Belmont and I glance at each other. I don’t doubt that our marriage needs whatever assistance he can offer. I feel as if we’re clinging to a buoy in a rough sea. We could hold on until we die, but we don’t want our relationship to perish. We want to live, and Dr. Calvet is offering us a lifeline.
 

The problem is that we didn’t choose this. Angelina and Charlie decided it for us. I still can’t believe she let him outfit me with such a torturous device. She should’ve known better. I recall her being inside my bedroom in Chicago and how soothing her warm, moist hand was on my forehead. I was feeling a lot better, and I’d wanted to let her know.
 

“I’m sorry,” she’d said.
 

I’d wanted to ask, “Sorry for what?” However, the next thing I knew, I woke up on a bed in a room I didn’t recognize.
 

I remember Belmont and the woman in the purple dress, Stacy Pruitt. I see myself kissing Dexter and that look on Belmont’s face when he caught us. I recall our stupid, stupid arguments. He accused me of being loveless. I accused him of being entitled and controlling—the two traits I hate most in a man. Yet I love him, and I can’t picture a future without him. Dr. Calvet watches me as if he already knows what I’ll say.
 

“Okay, I’ll do it,” I say.

Belmont smiles faintly. “Me too. I’m in.”