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“What did he say?”
“Nothing much, spewing shit about some welcome home torture he’s planning for us.” Joshua scrubbed a hand through his hair. “But since we’re not going home, I’m glad we’ll disappoint the prick.”
I nodded mutely, questions and fears swirled in my brain.
“Come on, baby. You’re still shaking. I’m going to start the shower for you, so you can relax while I make some more calls, okay?”
“Will you stay in the bathroom with me?”
My quivering voice drew a look of alarm to settle over Joshua’s face.
I couldn’t mask my fear. Riding a seesaw of one emotional high one minute and bottoming out the next, my self-confidence felt shredded. Stripped bare and made vulnerable by Walker’s masterful manipulation, I feared he’d succeed in taking mine and Joshua’s lives and every ounce of sanity before my torturous end.
With a slow, concerned nod, he took my hand and led me to the bathroom.
Stepping beneath the hot spray, my own bewildering emotions frightened me almost as much as Davis’ threats. Grasping for something resembling normalcy, I reached down deep to find strong, capable Mellie beneath the sublime wings of my submission, but I couldn’t find her anywhere. I was too mired in a worried sludge; even the warm water pelting me couldn’t wash it away.
No matter how I strived to keep Davis from crafting me a victim, each new disturbing piece of information seemed to thwart my resolve and lock me in a foreign mental prison.
Joshua paced the room, making one call after the next. As if sensing my despondent mood, he paused at the shower doors and frowned.
“Don’t you dare give that prick the power to steal your spunk, Mellie. If you do, the bastard wins.”
He wanted me to fight Davis, to be strong and independent. But Joshua also wanted me to be pliant and submissive—for him. He didn’t understand that I didn’t work that way. I couldn’t be both at the same time. Turning off my submission completely might be a deal breaker, and the thought of losing him through all this shit felt like a knife to the heart. But I couldn’t steel myself and try to win the war with Davis unless I tossed away the sweet serenity Joshua had resurrected inside me. It was a no-win situation.
Leaning back against the tiles, I closed my eyes, wishing the water could melt my conflict away. Half listening to Joshua’s conversation with Ian and halfway searching for ways to keep both sides of myself intact, I couldn’t relax.
“Can you run the image I just sent through your face recognition software?”
Joshua’s question bled through my brooding. Turning, I watched him pace. Tall and lean. Powerful and tender. He was the epitome of Dominance and protection.
Will you honestly be able to walk away from him? Turn your back on the light he’s brought back to your life?
A single tear slipped down my cheek, and I quickly wiped it away. This wasn’t the time or the place to mourn his loss. I had to pull up my bootstraps and ready myself to battle Davis while my heart was shattering.
“I understand about the sunglasses. Just see if you can get a bead on him. Okay, call me back if you do. Thanks.”
As Joshua ended the call, I turned off the water, and stepped out of the shower. He took one look at me, and his brows furrowed in concern.
“What’s wrong?” I wrapped a towel around me.
I wrapped a towel around me before tailing my wet hand over his cheek. “I’m sorry, Joshua. I can’t do it. I just can’t.”
“Do what, baby?”
“I can’t be a submissive to you anymore.”
He recoiled as if I’d slapped him across the face. “Okay, hold on a second. I need you to explain that statement to me, little one.”
“I can’t do both. I can’t be strong and tough and not fall apart, and yield to you like the submissive you want me to be. I can’t do both. I can’t switch those two pieces of me on and off—not without becoming a victim to Davis or failing you. I don’t want to lose you in all this mess, but until it’s over, I can’t be your submissive.” Even through the tears blurring my vision, I saw a tender smile spread over Joshua’s lips.
“Oh baby. You’re not going to lose me. When it comes to Davis, I’d rather see you spit and fight than see you lost and afraid like you are now.” Wrapping his hand around my wrist, he placed my palm against his heart. “Let me save your submission for you, Mellie. I’ll keep it right here, safe and sound, okay?”
“But you said—”
“I know what I said, but sweetheart, things have changed. I don’t know who we’re dealing with anymore. Ian’s trying to find that out, and so is Pruett now. But if getting you through this emotionally whole means I have to deal with Mouthy-Mellie—” He shrugged. “So be it. Just don’t call me a son of a bitch again, and everything will be fine.”
“I won’t,” I sniffed. “I swear I won’t.”
