Strapped Down (4 page)

“You sure? You want me to tell you exactly how I want my dick sucked? No holds barred?”

“Yes, I want to make you come so hard. I want to please you. I want to do more than please you.”

“You are making me rock solid.”

“I know,” I smile.

“Get on your knees.” I take comfort in being commanded. I want to be told, I want my thoughts to only be of him and his dark, velvety voice. “Spit on your hand and put it around the base. Hold it firmly, now put that sexy mouth around the shaft. Uhhhh.” He lets out a sigh as I do this, his voice lowers and becomes breathy. “Oh fuck. Yeah. Suck on it baby. Jerk me off at the base with your hand. Oh yeah.”

He takes all of my hair in his hand and guides my pace. Then his hips begin to gyrate back and forth towards my mouth. “Run your tongue along the under…yeah, like that.” I can feel him swelling in my mouth making it hard for me to contain him, but reinforcing that I am doing it exactly the way he likes it. “Now take your mouth off, but keep your hands on. Keep going, like that.” His engorged dick looks like it will burst at any moment. “I want to come on those beautiful tits of yours. I want to filthy them with my cum.” With my available hand, I slide my tank off of my shoulders, revealing my bust. “Put your mouth on it one last time, and take me all the way in.” I take him to the back of my throat, gagging a little as my throat muscles tense against the head of his penis. “Finish me off baby, all over those beautiful face and tits.” It only take seconds as he pumps all over the pale flesh of my breasts, streams of his cum adorning the curvature of my collarbones, areolas, and bust.

Taylor collapses onto the couch. I sit back onto the floor, studying the aftereffects of our encounter. It’s the first time I have ever had a guy do that to me, so I don’t have a standard procedure about what to do next.

Taylor breaks the silence. “Fuck, that was fantastic baby. Why don’t you shower while I make breakfast?”

***

By the time I get out of the shower, Taylor is plating the French
t
oast. Drying my hair with a towel, I watch him from a distance, admiring his shirtless body. His hair is disheveled and he is just starting to
grow
a 5 o’clock shadow. He appears well rested compared to the way he looked at the hospital. I cherish the moment as I know it is only a brief respite from the reality of our world. There is a lot of pain and anger that needs resolution. I know Taylor won’t be at peace until he has avenged me. Finally, he looks up and notices me watching him.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Come eat.”

I walk over to the breakfast bar and he
passes me
a plate with three pieces of French toast, covered in berries and bananas and
a dollop of
mascarpone cheese. “Thank you so much, this looks great.” Taylor stands across from me at the counter, and we eat in silence
.
“This is so delicious.”

“Thank you…Shyla…” He pauses.

“What is it?” It seems that he is going to throw away the question, but I want to know what is on his mind.

“Are you…okay? I mean, a lot has happened. And you, well, the last couple of times we tried anything…do you need to talk to someone? A professional?”

“I’m okay, really. It’s just a little soon is all. I’m a little shaken up by the past couple of days. I am sure it’ll subside.”

“He didn’t really do anything at your house, right? You wouldn’t hide that from me? I know I reacted poorly the first time—”

“No. I swear. I just think my emotions are fried. There has been so much happening at once. I just need some time to let things settle. I think I might still be in shock.”

“Listen, I know it’s different, but I know what you’re going through. All of this, what we do, the dom stuff, I won’t do it until you tell me you’re ready. You need to tell me when you are ready to handle something that intense. ”

“I will, but part of me thinks it might help me. You know, work through everything.”

“Are you sure? It’s a dangerous road, using sex as a way to work out your issues. I would know.” We both laugh a little at his dark joke.

“I understand.”

“And maybe it’s good that you — I don’t know — see someone.”

“Taylor, how rich of you to suggest that I see a therapist.”

“You’re not like me; you can be fixed. I mean not just what happened, but the mutilation…” Both of our eyes dart down to the thin cuts on my arm, and I feel ashamed and conflicted. How much different are the bruises on my body, the cuts on my lips, from the cuts on my arms? I know myself and who I am. I don’t need to see a therapist as long as I have him to guide me through the shadows.

“I’ll tell you what. Once you start making weekly visits to the shrink, I promise I’ll go too.”

Taylor sighs and nods his head, conceding to my point. “Point taken, smartass.” His phone rings and he excuses himself to grab it. “Hello? Yes, this is. Oh, yes, I’m fine and you? Sure, just a moment.” He puts the phone down. “It’s for you. Detective Acosta.” My phone was taken into evidence and so I gave Taylor’s number as my contact information.

“Detective?”

“Hello Miss Ball. How are you feeling?”

“A lot better, thank you. Do you have any news?”

“Yes, actually I do. It’s both good and bad.”

My heart drops and I instantly become nauseous. “Yes. Go ahead.”

“Eric Holden has left the country.”

CHAPTER FOUR

“
What? How?”

“From the timeline, it appears he immediately headed to the airport
. He already had reservations for
a flight to Brazil.”

“Brazil?” I slump into my seat as I look up at Taylor
,
who is stoically leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed, boring holes through me with his turquoise eyes. “So what are you going to do?”

“Ms.Ball, policing becomes very difficult internationally. He may have already headed to another South American country through Brazil. At this point the court will be issuing a warrant for his arrest but it is a waiting game.”

“So are they going to track him down?” This is getting much bigger than I thought.

“Well, it’s not that simple. He’s effectively disappeared at this point. The best thing to do is to wait for him to slip up.”
He won’t slip up.

“So you mean, he just gets off, scot-free?” I am not sure if this is good news or not. On one hand, he’s gone, really gone
;
on the other he won’t pay for what he has done.

“We will do everything in our power to find him, but I want you be prepared for the fact that our search has gotten a lot more complicated and will most likely take longer than we originally thought. We will continue to work leads
and
see if we can find out his specific whereabouts, working with the FBI and Interpol if we need to.”

“I cannot believe this.”

“Listen, Ms.Ball, if there is any silver lining
to
this, it’s that he has gone on the run and it is unlikely he will return to this country or ever try to contact you again.”

“But he gets to just live his life, as if nothing even happened?” I want to make sure he thinks I am outraged, but in a way I am relieved. Lying was as difficult as Taylor said it was.

“That’s not necessarily true. He will have to hide and that is not pleasant. I will continue to be in touch if there are any new developments. He is on every list we could get him on so if he slips up, we will find him.”

“You’ll never find him. He’s smart. He is a security expert. He was in the military.”

“Actually, I did want to ask you about that. You mentioned he owned a security firm, but we didn’t find any record of that.”

“Well that’s what he once told me
.
M
aybe he was trying to impress me. His family is rich, he doesn’t need to work. He was in the military, Taylor knows that for sure.”

“
W
ell
,
I will be in touch if I have any updates or questions.”

“Okay. I’m going out of town for a while visiting family. So, I may be unavailable.” It’s kind of a fib since I have no official plans yet, but ever since things spiraled out of control I have developed an unusually strong urge to visit my mother. I need a break from all of this, and that includes any more conversations with Acosta.

“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind. I know you are frustrated, but we will do our best to bring him to justice, no matter how long it takes.”

“I understand and I’m sorry if I sound ornery. This has been very difficult. Thank you for your help.” I hang up the phone, and before Taylor can ask, I tell him: “He’s gone.”

“Brazil?”

“Yes. The detective tried to lay it on softly, but he basically said it’s like finding a needle in a haystack.”

Taylor rests his forehead in his hand for a moment, and then he looks up. “I can find him. I can pay someone to find him,” he says, stabbing his index finger into the kitchen counter.

“And then what? Taylor
,
he’s probably in the
fucking
jungle somewhere living off of the land with a goddam
n
indigenous tribe. This is Eric we’re talking about, he knows what he’s doing. He’s the last person you probably want on the lam.”

“Goddamit!” Taylor slams his fist into his plate and it shatters. His hand begins to drip blood. “I fucking swear it, I’m going to destroy him! I will wait, patiently; he will slip again, he will make a mistake, and when I get my hands on him again, it will be for the last fucking time!”

His tone and the fire in his eyes paralyzes me. The wrath is not directed at me, but the rage is so palpable, so heavy, it feels as though he could explode at any moment.

“You’re bleeding.” I motion towards his hand, but he raises the other one to stop me. Taylor walks over to the sink and runs the wound under the faucet. “Let’s just try to go back to the way it was. This could be a blessing,” I reassure Taylor.

“Blessing…” He says under his breath in a mocking tone.

“I don’t mean the situation, but the fact he’s gone. We can just move on.”

“You don’t get it. There is no moving on.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s either him, or me.”

“Come on. Don’t let him infect you like this.”

“Why aren’t you as angry as me? Don’t you want to get him too?”

“Yes! For Christ’s sake I just lied-!” I look around and lower my voice to a whisper. “I just fucking lied to the police so we could get him, but I don’t want to let him ruin what we have. The bitterness will destroy you.”

“Shyla, this is on me…on me! It’s because of me that this happened to you, that he came into your life and because I didn’t finish the job when I had the chance…”

“Don’t say that. None of this is your fault!”

Taylor shakes his head,
his
vacant expression
and
pursed lips inform
ing
me his mind has gone elsewhere. “I’m going to go work
out. I need to clear my head. I’ll be downstairs.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“No.”

“Okay. Please don’t go looking for him. He’s gone and that’s exactly what we wanted.”

Taylor begins to clean the dishes, which is something I have never seen him do before. I sit quietly behind him, leaving him to stew in his silent fury. Finally, turns to me.

“Did you say you were going out of town? Did you mean us going to New York?”

“Actually, I was thinking I should go visit my mother. It’s been a while, and like I mentioned, maybe this will give me some air so I can absorb all of this.” The thought crosses my mind to invite Taylor, but I don’t think he’s ready for that. In fact, I’m not sure I am, and “meeting the ‘rents” right now just seems so trivial.

“When?”

“Well, I was going to make a long weekend of it, take Friday off. I am going to call Chad and let him know something happened this weekend. Home invasion without all the personal details. I’m sure he’ll cut me some slack.”

“Do you want Harrison to come with?”

“Harrison? No, Eric’s really gone this time. I just want to be normal, no security, no stalker step-brothers…”

“No ultra-kinky
d
om boyfriend with a sordid past?” I think he says it jokingly, but I am never sure with him.

“No…you’re welcome to come. I didn’t mean it that way. I didn’t think you would be interested in meeting my mother.”

“No, you should go see your mom alone, have a chance to be a kid again and escape all this madness.” And with that, Taylor throws the dishrag on the sink and heads downstairs to the gym.

I watch him walk away
,
saddened by the guilt I know he holds for what happened to me. Things are so tense now
that
it never seems like the right time to tell him
what I’ve learned about
his mother. At best, he will feel betrayed by my snooping around
,
and rightly so
;
at worst, he will never trust me again. Eventually, I will have to tell him
.
H
e needs to know the truth whether he wants to or not. Some time away at my mom’s will allow me map out how I will break the news to him. I call Chad.

“Hello? Chad speaking.”

“Hey Chad, it’s Shyla. Sorry, I’m calling from Taylor’s phone.”

“No problem, what’s up?”

“Well, everything is okay and I don’t want you to freak out, but someone broke into my condo and attacked me.”

“Attacked? Oh my god! Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Everything is okay, I was with the police until late into the night.” Then I hear Kristin’s familiar voice in the background.

“Okay…Kristin is freaking out, I’m gonna pass the phone to her before she rips my face off…”

“Shyla! Oh my god! You were attacked? What the fuck happened? Are you okay?”

“Yes! I was going to call you next, I swear. I didn’t know you were with Chad. You two are spending a lot of time together.” I hope her budding relationship is not nearly as tumultuous as mine.

“What happened?”

“Someone snuck into the condo, I guess to steal something
,
and I walked in. We struggled so I am a little beat up.”

“Oh my god,” Kristin’s voice sounds shaky on the other end.

“I’m okay, really. Don’t worry about me.”

“Do the police know who it was?”

“Can we talk about this another time? I love that you’re with Chad, but he’s still my boss and I need a little privacy.”

“Of course! Can I come over today?”

“I don’t have any specific plans, I’m at Taylor’s for the time being.”

“Sure. Do you want to do dinner?”

“Yeah, let’s. I’m going to see my mom later this weekend. Actually, that’s why I wanted to talk to Chad.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot you called him,” she laughs. “I’ll pass the phone back to him. Love you, and I’ll see you later, okay? I just cannot believe it.”

“I know, it’s crazy. I’m fine though, really.”

There is the sound of the phone bumping around a bit, then Chad gets back on the line. “Hey Shyla, it’s me again.”

“Yeah, so I wanted to let you know because I am a little beat up. There was a struggle…I didn’t want to freak you out tomorrow.”

“You’re coming in?”

“Well…I’m okay.”

“Take tomorrow off, please.”

“Actually, I was hoping to take Friday off to visit my mom in light of this disaster. So I don’t want to get too far behind.”

“It’s up to you, but you can do most of your assignments from home this week. It’s all about your comfort level. I know it can be hard to have to rehash the story to people and with any visible injuries, people will ask.” I wonder to myself if Chad would be this understanding if he wasn’t crushing so hard on my best friend, but I am grateful for the latitude.

“Okay, well I’ll see how I feel tomorrow. If I stay home, you won’t miss me, I’ll be in touch and get everything done.”

“I know you will.”

“Thanks so much for understanding Chad. You’re the best.”

“Don’t mention it. I’ll talk to you soon.”

I wasn’t expecting to be able to stay home all week, and the surprise is welcome. The thought of showing up to work with a busted lip, a bruised neck, and cuts on my arms wasn’t something I had fully thought out. And while I know intellectually that Eric is gone, I can’t shake the feeling that I am being watched. Hopefully working from home this week will let the fact that Eric is gone for good register.

Instead of calling my mom next, I cho
o
se to surprise her with my visit. My mother now lives in Massachusetts. She moved about
three
years ago when she was offered the position of
e
xecutive
d
irector at a drug rehabilitation center. It was a very proud moment for her and me. She suffered greatly
from
the loss of my father and it took many years for her to get back on her feet and regain her independence. Since my father’s family wanted nothing to do with me, the only family we had was my aunt, her sister, who lived out of state. It made for hard times growing up. I never could afford the perks that a lot of my friends had
;
no vacations, no nice clothes, no allowance. During the really bad times, food was scarce. Most times, we had each other and only what we absolutely needed.

When I saw my mother struggle, I often felt like I was a burden, even though she never expressed that I was ever anything
other
than the person she loved most on Earth. Yet, I could see the weight on her shoulders, the heaviness in her eyes and I knew I was at least partly responsible for her troubles. Then, after years of trying to hold it all together, she too turned to the bottle. I was crushed in
h
igh
s
chool when I saw my mother slowly fall apart under the loneliness and responsibility. That’s when the cutting started. A side of me felt guilty about my presence, the fact that I was a daily reminder of my father, but another side of me was angry with her, for allowing herself to be so weak and for abandoning me for her own brand of escape. She was all I had and then she left me just like my father; maybe not physically
,
but in every other way. I felt so numb to my predicament and the cutting made me feel
;
it was my personal brand of coping. Something about brightness of the red blood was a thrill,
and
the danger made me feel alive. I didn’t want to drink,
because
that only numbed me more. I wanted to feel, I wanted to feel things with intensity. Pain seemed to be the only thing that could bring me that.