Obsessive Compulsion (15 page)

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Authors: CE Kilgore

Tags: #bdsm, #autism, #ocd, #obsessive, #obsessive complusive disorder

BOOK: Obsessive Compulsion
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“Ah, I get it,” she smiles and the concern
leaves her eyes. “You promised not to lie. Not really a promise
most keep. Guess I should be more specific with my questions from
now on.”

My fingers continue passing through her
hair. “And you? Are you okay?”

She actually seems to give the question some
consideration before answering, leaving me wondering what’s really
going through her mind. “I think I’m better than okay, Ian.” She
shifts against mattress to nuzzle against my leg. “It’s been a long
time since I could say that and really mean it.”

I reposition us so she can set her head in
my lap. The move makes her smile, and that smile warms my heart. I
love how the simplest things seem to make her the happiest.

I love you, Charlotte
, my lips
silently mouth the words while my fingers resume playing with her
hair.

A soft knock at the door makes us both
frown. I start to get up, but she refuses to budge and instead
pulls a blanket from the foot of the bed to cover her naked lower
body. She smiles up at me and I smile back.

The knock repeats, a bit more urgently.
“Come in,” I respond.

Brandon’s face appears in the opening
doorway, his deeply troubled expression softening momentarily as he
takes in the sight of me and Charlotte. “Sorry, but I need you
downstairs.”

“No problem, boss,” and I mean it. Sure, I’d
prefer to sit in this room all night with Charlotte, but if
Brandon’s eyes are any indication, something big just went down.
“Anything I should know?”

Brandon’s eyes dart to Charlotte for a
moment then back to me. I can see the decision in his eyes – his
choice to trust her, to bring her in further to our family. “Saul’s
in jail.”

“What?” Charlotte sits up, her worry
matching mine. She cares about us, our family, just as much as we
do. “Is he okay?”

Brandon runs a hand down his tired face. I
haven’t seen the man looking so beat up since he almost lost Emma.
“Damn fool,” he sighs. “After Saul left here, he got drunk and
headed to Sarah’s.”

“And Kyle was at Sarah’s,” I finish, already
seeing where this conversation is headed.

Brandon’s mouth closes around his unfinished
explaination, then I see a flash of anger tremor along his jawline.
“You
knew
he was there tonight?”

 

Perhaps I should’ve said something earlier,
but Brandon knows as well as I do that it wouldn’t have made a
difference. Kyle’s been paying visits to Sarah in secret since they
were teenagers. No one, not Saul, Brandon or even the man Sarah’s
married to is going to stop it. Like the rest of us, it’s
complicated.

“I guessed,” I reply to Brandon’s growing
temper. “Kyle said he wasn’t going to be here tonight and Austin
said Annabelle was babysitting Sarah’s kids so Sarah could work a
double. You and I both know she never works doubles unless Rob’s
gone.” I try to keep my voice calm, but I can see Charlotte’s mouth
hanging open. “How bad is it?”

Brandon lets out a breath, his eyes cooling.
“Could be worse. Sarah called James directly instead of dispatch.
Saul kicked Kyle’s ass pretty damn good and even threatened him
with a hunting rifle. Kyle didn’t defend himself, according to
Sarah. No one’s pressing charges, but James put Saul in a cell to
sober up for the night. Victoria exploded when I told her, then she
yelled at Austin and stormed out. Emma’s trying to calm down Austin
while he paces the kitchen, ranting in Spanish.”

Brandon stops. There’s anguish on his face
now, mixed in with the anger. His family is coming apart at the
seams and he doesn’t know how to fix it. Standing, I try to
reassure him that none of us are going anywhere.

“It’ll work itself out. This had to happen
eventually. We all know that.” My words remove some of the anxiety
from his eyes and he nods. “What can Charlotte and I do to
help?”

“I gotta get to the hospital and pick up
Kyle,” he replies. “Sarah’s staying at Annabelle’s until we can get
the mess at her house cleaned up. Can you two take care of the club
and help Emma ‘till I get back?”

“Of course,” Charlotte replies first,
starting to stand. She gets one leg on the floor then freezes.
“Soon as I find my undies.”

I snort, Charlotte blushes and Brandon
finally cracks a smile. “Thanks, Charlie.” He turns that smile to
me with a questioning raise of the brow. I give a subtle nod and
his half smile evolves into his signature grin before he leaves us
alone again.

Charlotte snickers behind me. “I think he
suspects something.”

“Well,” I give her body a long look over.
“It’s been… never… since I’ve had a beautiful woman in my room.
Especially one not wearing underwear, so he’s bound to draw some
conclusions.”

“Speaking of drawing conclusions, Kyle and
Saul’s sister?” Charlotte asks as she gets out of bed and pulls on
her panties.

I watch her slide the lace up her thighs
with deep appreciation. “It’s a long, complicated story. Saul had
to find out eventually, but we were all sworn to secrecy.” I sigh,
leaning back against the closed door. “Certainly not the way we
wanted him to find out, either.”

Saul sitting in a jail cell and Kyle in a
hospital was one of the nightmare scenarios we all thought was
possible, but it’s better than the scenario where Saul doesn’t just
threaten
Kyle with a hunting rifle. Sarah is Saul’s baby
sister, his angel, and there was an unspoken rule that she’s always
been off-limits. It was a rule Kyle broke the moment he saw her, at
least that’s how Victoria tells it.

It’s no wonder Brandon’s worried our family
is imploding. Victoria, Saul and Austin can’t figure their shit
out. Saul just fell off the wagon after six years and tried to kill
Kyle. Kyle is still chasing Sarah after a fifteen years of
flip-flopping. James is suspiciously choosing
now
to finally
grow a heart and Forester is threatening the club.

Damn, what a mess. “I guess this means the
Christmas party is cancelled,” I think out loud.

Charlotte pauses her efforts zip up her
skirt. We share a quiet stare then burst out laughing. Really, with
our messed up family, what else can we do?

As she sits on the edge of the bed next to
her boots, I walk over and kneel down before her. “Let me,” I
request and she relinquishes her boot to me. I try not to linger
too long with them, but I love these damn boots.

“What
are
you doing for Christmas?”
she breaks the silence unexpectedly just as I finish counting the
grommets for the second time. “Visiting family?”

The second part of the question sticks in my
brain and reminds me how ridiculous the idea of proposing to her
is. During our time together, especially while Emma was in the
hospital, we kept our conversations centered on the present. We
didn’t venture into territories like our past, our families or our
vices.

I like to believe that our present, this
unlabeled relationship we’re building, is all that matters.
Expecting the past not to interfere with your future is a fool’s
hope, and I’ve played that fool many times. No matter how far down
you burry it, the past always finds its way to the surface
eventually.

“Ian?” Her hand brushes against my
cheek.

“No,” I finally answer as I finish putting
on her left boot. I pick up the right boot, knowing my short answer
won’t satisfy her. It doesn’t satisfy me, either. I want her to
know everything so I run out of excuses keeping me from kneeling
down for a purpose other than her boots.

“My family and I don’t really talk,” I
continue while gently slipping her foot into the leather. “My Dad’s
a football coach out near Odessa. He didn’t know what to do with a
son who freaked out every time he got tackled or who couldn’t throw
a football because he was more interested in counting the laces.
Mom didn’t know what to do but drink after he left.”

I stop to swallow the bitterness, my eyes
focusing on the zipper as I click through each tooth along its
long, metal line. “He remarried. Really pretty lady – on the
outside. She didn’t like the weird kid so much, so my visits became
shorter and the time between them longer. Haven’t visited him since
I was fourteen. Haven’t spoken to him in seven years.”

I finish zipping up the boot and lean away,
glancing up. Charlotte is watching me closely, waiting to see if
I’ll give her more of me. I wonder if she’s realized yet that I
want to give her everything.

“Mom got sober when I hit high school, but
it was never quite the same between us. She moved down to Florida
with my grandparents. I try to keep in touch, but I don’t do long
road trips so well and flying is definitely not an option. After
the fifth decline, I stopped inviting her here. I think Texas holds
too many memories for her.”

Instead of offering me pity I don’t want,
Charlotte reinforces my love for her. “Maybe you just need a
driving partner. Road trips are more fun with two people.”

“Maybe,” I smile and let the possibility
exist for a while as I stand. Mom would say that it isn’t proper to
propose to a girl you haven’t introduced to your mother yet. I sigh
inwardly, realizing how hung up on the whole proposal idea I’ve
become. Yet another thing to obsess over. Beats counting floor
tiles, I guess.

Charlotte

 

We walk down into the clubroom to find it
almost empty. It’s late, so most of the members have moved on to
the private rooms. One of the Leads, like Ian or Brandon, is always
on call to ensure nothing needs attention. Brandon said they’ve
never had any problems at the club that required intervention, but
there’s a first time for everything, no matter how well you screen
your members.

Emma and Austin are sitting at the bar. He’s
leaning over it with his head in his hands and Emma is gently
patting the man’s back. Emma glances up as we enter to smile at our
approach. “Brandon just left,” she informs us with a blushing
glance to me that is full of questions.

Austin raises his head up from an untouched
cup of coffee sitting between his elbows. “Hey,” his voice is as
rough as his eyes are red. I think the man’s been crying. “Kyle
needed twelve stitches in one arm. He fell into Sarah’s glass
coffee table after Saul decked him.”

“Ouch,” I wince.

“Why don’t you go get some sleep,” Ian says
to Austin. I guess he can see how beaten up the guy is over the
whole thing. “You’ve been up since seven.”

“Five,” Austin sighs, giving in with a yawn.
“Saul messed up the order again, so I had to run out early to
Jake’s to fix it.”

Ian curses. “Third week in a row. Maybe I
should start handling the grocery order.”

“No,” Austin shakes his head as he stands on
wobbly legs. “You take that away from him now, after all this shit,
and it’ll just get worse. It’s my fault everything is so messed up
right now, but I’m going to fix it.”

Austin stumbles a little, obviously
exhausted. I give him a shoulder to lean on, along with a smile. “I
think you need sleep before you do anything, sweetie. C’mon, I’ll
tuck you in.”

Austin laughs softly with a glance to Ian.
“Mind if I borrow Miss Scarlet for a minute so I don’t pass out in
the hallway?”

I hold my breath, hoping Ian doesn’t take my
offer the wrong way. It’s clear by Ian’s calm expression that he
gets the same vibes from Austin that I do. Wow. Saul really isn’t
too bright, is he?

“Just don’t be surprised if her idea of
tucking you in involves rope,” Ian quips with a snort.

“Damn,” Austin grins as Emma giggles. The
joke is a needed break in the tension. “I can see why you don’t
want to share her,” Austin retorts, sliding his arm around my
shoulders as we walk out the large wooden doors.

We ease down the carpeted hallway on the
first floor where Austin’s room is. He lives at The Stables full
time, taking care of the place and Brandon’s horses. He’s barely
leaning on me, but I didn’t offer the walk for physical reasons.
Stopping outside his door, I wait to see if he needs anything
more.

He takes a step to the door then shoulders
the wall next to it. “You and Ian work things out?” he asks shyly,
eyeing his boots.

I feel my cheeks heat as I recall just how
well we worked things out. “We did. I’m sure we’ll hit a few more
bumps, but I think we’re at least heading in the right direction
now.”

His gaze raises up, coy shyness replaced by
serious concern. “He’s a good man who’s worth whatever bumps you
may hit, I promise you that.”

“I know,” and I really do. I’m prepared to
climb a mountain for that man, even if I have to do it in
thigh-high boots and a corset.

“Ah,” Austin’s expression brightens with a
toothy, boyish grin. “
La mirada de amor
,” he whispers. “You
have the look of love, Charlie.”

I cough involuntarily, my brain not ready to
listen as my heart pounds its agreement. I hate that I’m so afraid
of that word, because if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be standing here
trying to think up a way to blow off Austin’s acute observation.
Instead, my mouth is opening and closing like a dumb fish.

“Sorry, Charlie girl,” Austin saves me from
my floundering with a look of understanding. “I know exactly where
you are.”

Normally, I’d argue that statement with a
‘you don’t know shit’, or some other defensive mechanism I’ve
adopted over the years, but I can’t find a reason to deny that he
knows
exactly
where I’m coming from. “I’m afraid I’ll hurt
him,” I whisper, shocked that the words made it out.

His eyes close as his head taps back against
the wall. “Most times, our fear is exactly what ends up hurting
those we love.” His face tightens in a wince. “Damn,” his fist hits
lightly against the wall. “I call Saul stupid because that boy
won’t listen, but I’m stupid for being afraid to say what really
needs to be said.”

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