Page 20 of Regressive

“So what? You brought her home and let Silas put her to bed?”

“No,” he shakes his head, without a trace of remorse. “I gave her what she needed. I fucked the guilt and pain out of her. I fucked her pussy so hard that all of this bullshit was gone—your rejection, your father’s manipulation, her worry about Lapses.” I start to argue but he holds up his hand. “Before you start about how you’re not like your father, just stop. You’re not any better. Taking her virginity like that. Going in at night and showing up when you feel like it. She’ll do anything to please you. Take any abuse.”

“Don’t you dare compare us.”

“He’s not,” Silas says, jumping in, “but you need to pay attention, brother. She’s lost. Confused. Caught up in a world we’ve dragged her into. One that you keep threatening to leave, and one in which your father will then remain, ready to snatch her up when you go.

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

But the statement falls flat. I’m here because I needed something fromher. I wasn’t there when she needed guidance. When she needed a cock buried deep inside to relieve the pain. Or later when she needed someone to soothe her wounds.

I take, I don’t give. Fucking hell, I am like my goddam father.

“I don’t know how to give her what she needs. That’s not who I am,” I admit.

“See, that’s the thing,” Silas says, clapping me on the back, “we do. We need to build her up, keep her strong, and show her that we can take care of her.”

“And my father? Let’s not pretend you aren’t all working directly for him.”

“We do this like we do everything,” Elon says, “one foot in and one out of the system. He taught us this world, Rex, but he also gave us something he didn’t anticipate.”

I raise an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

“Power.”

12

Imogene

I waketo the bed shifting, the weight of a person next to me. I’m still on my stomach, backside aching, but turn my head to see the person next to me. Silas.

“Good morning,” he says, pushing the hair off my neck. “How did you sleep?”

“Okay, I guess. I tried rolling over a few times.” I make a face. “Didn’t work so well.”

He holds up a small pot. “I brought some salve. It’ll help heal the wounds and swelling. May I?”

I nod, eager for some relief. Things got a little extreme with Levi the day before. Something intense came over me. Like a craving for water on a hot day. I didn’t just want him to Correct me like that, I needed it to survive. That doesn’t even include what happened with Elon afterward.

Silas gently lowers the blanket and pushes up my nightdress allowing the cool air to hit my backside. I watch his face as he does it, the wrinkle in his nose at the sight of the injury.

“Is it bad?” I ask.

“I’ve seen worse.”

That surprises me. Almost as much as the sensation I feel when his fingers make contact with my flesh, rubbing the cool, icy feeling salve over my blistered skin. “Oh! That’s nice.”

“Good.” He smiles. “I made it last night. I knew you needed something a little more potent than my normal cream.”

I relax into the massage, enough that I build the courage to ask, “What did you mean when you said you’ve seen worse?”

He dips his fingers in the pot, scooping out a glob. “Part of my job is to treat wounds like this. I’m not a healer—well not the medical kind—I’m more about treating the soul, the sexual one, and sometimes that pent up frustration results in physical injury. Like yours.”

He continues to massage, moving away from the blisters, down over the curve of my backside, until he dips his fingers between the crack. My belly flutters, twisting with that familiar desire. This one is less conflicted though. It’s nice. Wanting. Relaxing.

“Do you think I’m crazy for letting Levi do this to me?” I ask when his fingers travel up my back.

“I think you’re seeking The Way—Enlightenment. That doesn’t come without sacrifice.”

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