Page 205 of Doubts & Fears

“I’m here,” I said, hanging up. He called me back, and I answered on my iPad.

“Talk,” he demanded.

“About?”

“I swear to god, young lady,” he growled before adding, “I’ve been awake since four my time, worried sick about you. Now you’ll stop the attitude and answer my questions.”

“Then maybe you should ask one instead of telling me to talk, Dr. Marcel,” I grumbled, wanting to lash out at someone. Gone was my desire to share.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the changes Alek said were coming and the hurt I’d caused Ivan.

“Damn it, Ms. Taylor.”

“What?” I asked, flushing in embarrassment.

“I asked you what you hope to accomplish by sleeping with three men?”

“What do I hope to accomplish? Really? That’s what you want to know?”

“Yes, now answer the question.”

“Fine, immense satisfaction and pleasure would be the thing I absolutely hope to accomplish, and if the last two nights are a sign, I’m well on my way. I could let you know how it goes tomorrow after Ivan has a go, if you’d like.”

I watched as his eye twitched and his hands clenched. “You’re so lucky you’re in Seattle, young lady.”

“Next question.”

“Do you think it’s a wise decision to sleep with three men with such a variety of needs and kinks?”

“Is this whole thing going to be about me sleeping with them? Is it a wise decision? Let me see, not by your standards. And as far as their kinks and needs, we’re supposed to be talking about that. Well, that was until this whole thing with Nik got blown out of proportion. And stop yelling,” I sobbed, finally breaking under it all.

He waited for me to calm down, and it was enough time for him to get himself together too.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ve been worried sick since they called. Let’s talk about what Nik saw. He said you have three distinct scars on your back. Tell me about them,” he said.

I couldn’t hide it anymore. He’d allowed me space to be vulnerable before. I could tell him. “Nik was right. One was caused by the spikes on a paddle and the other two, which are about two inches long, and super faint, were caused by a badine.”

I pulled my knees up, feeling like those memories were going to suck me under if I continued talking about it.

“How did you get them?”

“Well, Dr. Marcel, when one person whips another in a rage, skin can be broken, and sometimes, despite attempts to minimize scarring, you can’t. It’s not like my entire back is a series of scars. Nik blew it out of proportion.” Numbness crept in as the words spilled from my mouth.

His face grew more serious, and he struggled with how to proceed. All of this back-and-forth left me feeling exhausted. I was so damned fearful I’d say the wrong thing. If I revealed too much, they might all abandon me, him included. He sighed, took a deep breath, and started again.

“Okay, so you were whipped by someone in a rage. Who?”

“The same person who ordered Mischa to be put in a coffin.”

“I need a name.”

“Me too, Dr. Marcel, me too. However, I don’t know it, so you can want something, but if I don’t have it to give, then I don’t have it to give.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. I think you do know. Aren’t you exhausted, Kinsley?”

He’d only used my first name in our sessions a handful of times. I looked up into his soft eyes and wanted to hate him, but I couldn’t. He was just doing his job. I was getting worked up and felt my heart squeezing in my chest.

“Can we talk Gorean slave whips and gags?” he asked.

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