Page 60 of Reclaimed

“If you behave, perhaps we could do this more often.”

“I always behave,” I replied playfully.

“Hmmmm,” was his only reply.

Even under the shade of the trees, I felt overwhelmed by the tantalising vastness of the open space. Part of me wanted to run, just for the sheer joy of it; I’d never appreciated being out in nature this much before. But the other half of me felt rigidly glued to Ray’s side.

Ray had once brought me back from a party on a leash. I think it had been my idea to take it with us. I hadn’t been able to lift my eyes from the floor as he led me across the hotel lobby. What must people have thought? The next day was the first time I’d ever seen bruising on my neck. It was July, and I’d got some funny looks wearing a scarf at work.

I wasn’t leashed this time, but I may as well have been. I could feel the tension in the hand gripping mine, and I knew that, behind those sunglasses, Ray’s eyes were constantly scanning for other walkers. He still couldn’t bring himself to completely trust me, and he was right not to. What would I do if we did come across another person? Ray had threatened to punish me, but once I’d screamed for help, it’d be too late for him to do anything about it. Even if that person couldn’t help me, they’d surely tell the police, and I’d be rescued before Ray had time to move me anywhere else. But then they’d take Ray away. He’d go to prison – for a long time – and I’d probably never see him again.

But my debate didn’t matter. We didn’t see or hear any signs that there were other people nearby the whole time we were out. When we got back, Ray removed my sunglasses and unbraided my hair, kissing my shoulders. I turned and flung my arms around him, taking him by surprise.

“Did you like that, little one?”

“Yes. Thank you.” I meant it. I knew what it must have taken for Ray to allow me this small freedom. He was desperate to make amends, and I found I was desperate to let him. “Shall I make us some tea?”

*

That evening, I asked Ray if I could have my necklace back. I still hadn’t completely forgiven him – every time I saw the cane’s marks in the mirror I would see his face, contorted with rage; I’d feel the agony of his betrayal like a fist in my chest. But I knew the marks would fade, and I knew there was no point fighting the inevitable; our lives were messy, but they were tangled together in ways I couldn’t hope to ever untwine.

A calmness settled over me as Ray fastened the chain round my neck. I never wanted to take it off again.

“Thank you. Master.”

Neither of us was surprised to hear the word this time. We both understood who I was – who we both were.

Ray leant his head gently against mine, his fingers lingering on my shoulders, stroking skin and necklace together, as if he needed to prove to himself that it really was there, that I really could stand to wear this sign that I was his.

23

The day I asked for my necklace seemed to mark the start of us finding our way again. A few weeks later, the cane’s marks had completely faded, and if I thought only about what was happening inside the confines of the house, I could find a kind of contentment. My day-to-day existence wasn’t difficult, and Ray’s temper had mostly settled. I knew what was expected of me, and Ray took care of everything else. He took care of me. It was only when my treacherous mind started reminiscing about David or ruminating on the audacity of what Ray had done that I started to feel resentful. Did I still feel indignant that he’d had me abducted against my will? Yes, but I also understood why he’d done it. And I don’t think he was being entirely dishonest when he said it was for my own good. He really did want what was best for me; he just wanted what was best for him too. Was it possible that those two things could be one and the same? Would my existence here ever be enough for me to be satisfied with my life? Would Ray really allow me more freedoms in the future if I behaved?

My head was getting busy again and I didn’t like it. I forced my awareness back into the present – the softly lit room, the lingering taste of the meal Ray had made for me, the pleasant blurriness the wine had given to everything, and the feeling of my head being supported by Ray’s shoulder.

I freed myself from Ray’s protective arm and slid from the sofa. I could feel his wariness, but I simply moved to sit on the floor at his feet and lean my head against his legs. We used to sit like this all the time; it made me feel special. Ray’s hand started stroking my hair and I knew he was pleased, and that in turn pleased me.

After the film had finished, Ray encouraged me back up onto his lap.

“Are you happy, little one?”

“I don’t know.”

“What’s wrong? Busy head?” I nodded. “Well, your Master had better take care of that then, hadn’t he?”

I said nothing. In the past, pain had been a useful tool that he could use to help me feel better, but after the cane…

“No? What are you worried about?”

“I don’t know if I’m ready to do that again.”

“This won’t be like before. I won’t give you more than you can handle. And this is to make you feel better – if it doesn’t, and you want to stop, then we’ll stop.”

Flashes of the cane invaded my vision. He could break me, if he wanted to.

“Do you trust me?” Every time he’d asked me that, since I’d arrived, my answer had been different. I was tired of alternating between trust and resistance.

“Will I still be allowed to sleep in your bed afterwards?”

---