“You’re beautiful,” Chase says.
I am—I’m beautiful to this man who has devoured my self-inflicted derision without choking on the thorns. He’s taken it within himself so I no longer have to feel it alone.
“You’re strong and you’re powerful,” he continues.
I smile as I lace our fingers together. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“I would.” He rolls me over, conscious of my tender skin, and pulls me into the nook of his body. “Haven’t you figured out how true power works yet?”
At my silence, he says, “A submissive holds all the power. You’re the queen on my board, Alexis. You set the pace, you tell me what you like and don’t. You tell me what you need, and I do everything within my power to give it to you.”
“But,” he says, running his finger along my bottom lip. “You have to be careful not to abuse that power.”
Hearing Chase—the most powerful man I know—say that I hold sway over him is impossible to believe. Besides: “I would never abuse our relationship.”
His smile is genuine but knowing. “I trust you. And I’ll never take advantage of your pain. I’ll guard it as if it’s my own, because you’re mine to protect.”
Professions whispered in the night are easy. It’s carrying them out in the light that’s the test.
“But I’m not capable of change, either,” he continues. “When you need comfort, I’ll hold you. When you require tenderness in my love, I’ll be gentle. I’ll give you everything you ask of me, but I will always demand your submission. There will always be a balance of pleasure and pain—it’s just who I am.”
I feather my fingers through his dark hair, still so in awe that this beautiful man is mine.
Chase is not broken. He’s not damaged. He’s the unyielding to my yield, the steadfast to my chaotic flow. “Your love has to be felt to the depth of both; equally benevolent and brutal.” I stroke his cheek. “I need all of you.”
It’s late by the time Chase pulls up to my apartment building. “I won’t demand that you stay with me…although I should,” he says, putting his car into Park. “But I’ll offer it again.”
He’s worried about my mental state, which is understandable. I just bared the darkest part of myself in an emotional outpour that’s left me drained and exhausted. I need sleep, but that’s something I won’t find with him. “Can I stay with you tomorrow? When I’m not on the brink of passing out.”
He crooks that sexy smile, and I’m more than tempted to close the car door and let him take me wherever he wants, just so I can stare at that
dimple. “All you ever have to do is ask.”
The air between us feels tenuous and fragile. As if a sudden gust of wind could blow us off course. I’m sure that’s only my frazzled emotions, though. Chase saw the whole of me and he didn’t turn away, even though I knew it was a possibility. I’ve been avoiding it, waiting for the bottom to fall out. Because it has before.
Learning to trust is like trying to breathe under water, conditioning yourself with patience till you can take that first, unobstructed breath.
I go to step out of the car when I feel his hand on mine. “If you knew where your brother was,” he says as I turn toward him, “what would you do?”
His question catches me off-guard, and I shake my head. “I don’t know. I mean…” Would I try to talk to him again, knowing that he’s the one who shut me out? Or do I just want to be able to hear my phone ring or a knock at my door without the fear…? “I wanted the promotion because I believed I could help him.”
He nods slightly. “His medication,” he says, making the connection. “You believe if you could afford it for him, then you could convince him to stop using.”
Hearing it out loud sounds desperate. “Yes,” I say.
The deep furrow of his brow reveals nothing of his thoughts. “Jefferson will pick you up in the morning. Goodnight, Alexis.”
As I watch him pull away, the turbulent whirlwind of my emotions finally sets in. I only get as far as my couch before crash fatigue claims my body and I land right there. All worries over my brother and my past—for once—not interrupting my sleep.
16
Antipathy
Chase
“I want you on it now.” I end the call to Sol and have to grip my cell to keep from throwing it against my office wall.
This is the cost of owning a person: losing sight of yourself, your sanity, in order to take care of them. Alexis is more than my responsibility; she’s my passion. And she may not want her rapist punished—but I do. I’ve been able to focus on nothing else all day but finding and castrating the bastard.