Page 92 of Lavender and Lightning

Rhett

AsaDom,I’vemade it a point to test all my toys and tools on myself before I ever use them with a partner. I know the sting of the cane, the deep ache of a paddle, even the burn of stretching implements. I’ve submitted myself to punishments, just so I know what I’m asking of my subs, including edging and overstimulation. Neither bothered me enough to consider not engaging in that sort of play.

But if this overwhelming ache in my chest, this painful longing that drags at my lungs, leaving me weak and shaking at the mere thought of her, is what Lydia or Lucas experience when I edge them, I will never do it again. This is cruel and unusual in the extreme, and surely must violate the Geneva Conventions.

I reach for the glass to my right, but frown when I find it and the bottle next to it empty. Weren’t they both full just a few minutes ago? I look up through the wide front windows and blink. I’d dragged myself out of bed and down to the table just before sunrise, and now the sky is a smoky gray-blue, orange and pink clouds smeared across the vista. Twilight. But I’ve only made it through three folders.

Maybe if ya weren’t drinkin’ yer meals, ya’d git moar done, my mother admonishes in the back of my head.

I shake my head, my hair falling limply over my forehead. There’s a dull pulse of pain on the top of my skull, but it’s far from becoming a true hangover. And I could always fight it off with the hair of the dog that bit me.

Yer a sorry excuse, Rhett Cooper. No son of mine—

Yeah, yeah, Ma. I know.

And it isn’t imagined disappointment anymore. I’d gotten the tongue lashing of a lifetime when Tessa called two days ago, asking about holiday plans, and if Lydia would be joining me for the Cooper-Nolan Christmas extravaganza. She’d caught me at the bottom of a bottle, so the whole sorry story came out. Before I knew how it’d happened, I was enduring my mother’s Irish accented lecture about how badly I’d failed, and how she couldn’t believe I’d forgotten so much of what she’d taught me. I’ve been dodging voicemails and texts from my sisters ever since, and just like the coward I am, I’ve deleted them without even reading their contents. There’s nothing they could say to me that I haven’t already thought about myself.

Pushing back from the table, I stumble to my feet before shuffling into the kitchen. There’s a long-cold plate of food on the island, stir-fry. Lucas had been cooking that when I came home from meeting Lydia for the first time. I dump it untouched into the trash, putting the plate and my glass in the sink and turning on the tap. There’s a coffee cup already in there, and I recognize it as one that Lydia brought with her when she moved in.

My chest tightens, and I suddenly can’t breathe. Every trace of her brings me back to that night. She walked out and left me. I keep waiting for the call, to hear Lee’s voice on the other line telling me our luck ran out at last. Anything could happen, and I can’t leave this God damned house. After Caleb turned me away, this has been the only place that makes sense. She has to come home, right? So I’d wait. But the days keep passing, and she still hasn’t even called. Did something happen, and I wasn’t there to protect her?

I close my eyes and grip the edge of the sink until my knuckles ache. The pain is real. I focus on it, trying to push away the despair. She’s fine, she has to be. She’s smart, so smart and capable. She wouldn’t take unnecessary risks. And she has Caleb. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her. I can’t lose her. The world would cease to exist if she left it. Her smile is as eternal as the sunrise, her soft skin like the tides, her lilac and honey scent, so engrained in me that I can smell it even now.

The water suddenly cuts out, pulling my eyes open. There’s a hand on the tap, one I’d know anywhere. I follow the line of creamy flesh up her arm, to her shoulder, along the slope of her throat. And her face…

“Lydia,” I breathe, gasping for air.

She looks up at me silently, brow furrowed and emerald irises clouded with concern. I turn to face her more fully, hands shaking at my sides. I want to reach out and touch her, but I’m too afraid it’ll shatter the dream, leaving me alone again.

“What’s wrong?” she mutters.

I can’t respond, her voice ringing in my head like a crystal bell. My vision blurs and I sway on the spot, my chest not obeying my command to expand. And then her hand is on my arm, warm and soft andreal,and I can’t take it. My knees give out, and I fall sideways into the cabinet below the sink before sliding to the floor at her feet. My face is wet with tears I can’t stop, and my lips move, but no words come out. She’s here, and she’s alive.

“Rhett, you have to breathe. Can you do that with me?” she asks, dropping to kneel in front of me.

I’d do anything she asked. Rob Fort Knox, walk through a forest fire, bring back the dinosaurs, anything. Her word is my sacred mission. So when she takes my hand and presses it to her sternum, counting her inhales and exhales, I follow blindly. Five seconds in, seven seconds out. The air is thick with florals, and it’s easy to let myself fall into the emerald sea of her eyes. The world slowly comes into focus, and I’m more aware of the subtle vibration beneath my palm. She’s… purring for me.

“When… how…” I whisper, throat raw.

Lydia chuckles under her breath. “I don’t know. I’m just… doing what feels right,” she replies.

I shift forward to kneel, adjusting my grip until her hand is in mine, and I bring it to my forehead as I bend low in supplication. She starts to protest, but I shake my head, holding tighter as she tries to pull away.

“Lydia, I’m so sorry. Please, my love, I can’t—please forgive me. I’ve done everything wrong, treated you with such disrespect and disregard. I don’t deserve you, but—”

“Rhett, no. That’s not true. You do—”

“You don’t understand,” I growl through gritted teeth. It feels so important, more important than anything, that she knows this. “I have spent these last several weeks imagining every possible scenario where you could be hurt, or worse. I’ve thought about little else, and I’ve let my fear blind me to the truth. I let it convince me you are this fragile thing, something so delicate and weak that any slight hurt would shatter you. I told myself I was protecting you, but I wasn’t. I was demeaning you, and you never knew. I convinced myself I was right, that what I was doing was necessary, but there’s no reason for anyone to think the things I’ve thought, to do the things I’ve done.”

“You’re not making any sense,” Lydia says, confused.

I swallow, trying to stop my arms from shaking. May God forgive me, even if she never will.

“I’ve hidden things from you, kept you ignorant of the dangers happening around you, because I decided you weren’t strong enough to handle them and make smart decisions about your own safety. I took away your freedom to choose how you live your life, all in the name of keeping you safe and… there’s a part of me that would do it all again.”

She slides her hands from my grip, but I stay hunched over, head low between my shoulders. My tears have stopped, at least, but my head feels full all the same. I take a deep breath and brace for her anger. I could endure that much, at least. But what I’m not prepared for is her arms around me, pulling me to rest my head on her shoulder as her fingers comb through my hair.

“Lex told me everything,” she says simply, kissing my temple.

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