Page 123 of Secrets & Lies

I only had twenty left now and would have to make an appointment to get more. Looking out the window, I was consumed by the feelings of loss and let the tears fall. Before I realized it, Marcus was pulling up to my house.

After letting me out, he smiled and said, “Do you need help getting inside?”

“No, I’m better now,” I whispered and meant it. The tears had sobered me up a bit.

“Very well, sleep well, Ms. Taylor. Don’t forget to set the alarm.”

After thanking him, I noticed two packages on my doorstep. Wrangling them was harder than I expected, and I cursed as I unlocked the door. The alarm blared, and I rushed to shut it off and close the door.

I was still shaking from my encounter with the Reaper. Did I really rub my pussy on him like a whore?God, I hated myself at that moment. All it did was give him another opportunity to say no, which he did.What was he even doing there?

It was all so pointless, my wanting him. I’d never be able to be what he needed or wanted. I walked away from every encounter with him questioning myself. I longed for him in secret ways—ways I hadn’t ever thought I’d feel.

He made me want to explore a lifestyle that both horrified and fascinated me. Damn my life. The unfairness of it left me confused. Confused because my exposure had two sides to it, and they were polar opposites.

My parents practiced that lifestyle. That was one of the hardest bits of information I’d had to come to terms with all these years later. My memories of my childhood were completely intact.

I remembered my father teasing my mother about spanking her, her using her safeword, and so much more. The subtle ways she responded to his authority and how he cherished her.

I couldn’t even explain the conflicting emotions I had when the Collector acted nice or lovingly to X one day, only to turn around and treat her like she was nothing the next. Whenever the nice moments happened, I’d get hopeful, only to be crushed later.

Every time. Despite it all, the years of abuse I’d seen, it could never negate the reality that my parents weren’t the same. Their relationship was nothing like what I’d been subjected to.

What bothered me was how something so beautiful could also be so twisted and ugly. It bothered me in the deepest part of my heart. Shortly before I turned twenty, I’d set out on a quest to get a better understanding, if for nothing else than for healing.

In many ways, part of my growth, especially over the last year and a half, had to do with what I discovered while researching. I had spoken to several subs with varying dynamics and asked so many questions.

Two of them had shared their own experiences that fell more to the unhealthy side of things. I’d learned from them that healing came when they found the right dynamic. The central theme that made a difference was genuine trust, respect, and, ultimately, clear-cut boundaries that each party adhered to.

I had even spoken with two Doms who shared their perspectives about the responsibilities and what an honor it was to have someone trust them completely. They stressed the importance of open communication between them and their subs.

At the end of the day, what my parents practiced and shared was consensual, loving, and worked for them. I was able to accept that, having the knowledge it wasn’t for everybody. Again, another sane reason to push Alek away. I wouldn’t be able to satisfy that part of him, especially if he was looking for a dynamic in which I’d have to call him Master.

I was still too broken. And despite how the women I talked to candidly shared how whole they felt now, I doubted I could be one of them. The problem for me was that Aleksandr’s very nature called to me.

At the heart of my brokenness was the realization that I was a sub, and I longed to be covered by a man. How do you function when the very nature of your soul craved something you couldn’t have? Living a life knowing I’d never be complete was crushing. My life, despite my best efforts, would always be an empty shell.

I looked over at the counter and saw the packages I’d picked up from outside. I reached for my blade and cut open the tape on one of them, smiling when I saw the note on top.

Everywhere you go, wear it. No excuses. Put it on now.

It was signed by “Blade.”How sweet. I ran my fingers over the straps for the garter holster. It looked adjustable, too. So practical, and I loved it. I picked the other one up and couldn’t tell who it was from, so I sat it on the table. I’d look at it tomorrow.

I went through the motions of getting ready for bed and taking a long, hot bath. When the water turned cold, I got out. I lit four of my favorite candles, the ones with lavender, and flopped down on my bed. Damn, drinking was the worst decision I made tonight.

I wondered what the harm would be if I took one of my pills.Fuck it. I popped the lid off and took two. Scrolling social media, I waited for the pills to take effect. I nearly jumped out of my skin when my phone rang, the ringtone bouncing off my bare walls.

“Dr. Marcel,” I answered.

“Good evening, Ms. Taylor. I hope it isn’t too late. I wanted to call and check on you.”

“Why?” I asked warily.Why on earth is he calling me?

“You’ve been on my mind, is all.”

“I’m fine. Alek has been respecting my boundaries. My life has gone back to normal. Outside of the fact that Nikolai insisted I have an alarm system installed, I think I’m done with your friends.”

“How are you feeling about that?”

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