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She pulls her hand away and lifts her chin. "I heard you crying."
"I wasn't crying," I claim, then push past her and slide out of bed. I go into the bathroom and turn on the shower.
She follows me. "Riggs, do you always have nightmares? The other night, I thought I heard—"
"Not sure what you thought you heard or saw, but I can assure you it was nothing," I state, stepping under cold water.
She watches me shower, and I ignore her, my irritation increasing since it's pouring down rain. That means surfing's out, which is normally the only way I can work through the aftermath of my past.
Well, that or sex after breaking down a sub for a few hours, but I can't attend the club until tonight. Another rule is that Doms can't play in the club until they've proven they've mastered the sub they bought at the auction.
Not that I would find another sub when I'm in a contract. It goes against my code, no matter what my needs are.
So, until tonight, when I take Blakely to the club, I'm screwed.
Even then, I'm in trouble. I've not touched her since the night at Apartment Thirteen. No matter how much she's tried to make things right between us, I've given her the cold shoulder. After a forty-eight-hour detox, which was extreme even for my standards, I let her out of the guest room, warning her that if she touched any more alcohol, she'd be locked in for a week.
We fell into a pattern. I'd go to work, leave her at the beach house, and come home late at night, well after dark. She tried to make amends the first few days, but I wasn't interested.
She broke rule thirteen. It may be a mandatory club rule, but it would have been in my contract whether they wanted it or not. There's no tolerance on my part for drunks or druggies.
After the fourth night, she didn't try anymore. A few times, I got home and she was already in bed. I hated it, as much as I hated seeing her slurring her speech and barely able to stand.
And now it's time to prove I have control over her and she's able to fully submit to me.
I've never been so unprepared.
The nightmares only add to the unhinged, unstable chaos I can't eliminate inside me. The longer I go without touching my pet, the crazier I feel. The only thing keeping me partially sane is knowing I'm taking Hugh down, but even that has challenges.
Jones hacked into two of Hugh's offshore accounts, but it's like he had a sensor on it. As soon as Jones got in, the money moved. It's a more sophisticated system than Jones has ever seen. While he's confident he'll break the code, it's wearing on my patience.
And Chainsaw hasn't found Snake yet. It seems the thug wised up and fled town. It's another thing bugging me. A good night at the warehouse, dragging the last breath out of Snake would have let me release some energy, but that hasn't happened.
The only saving grace I have in all of this is sneaking pictures of Blakely and sending them to her father.
And I know I'm getting under his skin. It took a while, but I finally got the text messages I'd been waiting for, which means he's starting to crack.
Hugh: Whoever this is, I'll find you. And once I do, you'll wish you never laid eyes on my daughter or me.
I sent a picture of Blakely in the shower with soap falling down her breasts and a message.
Me: I'm going to fuck her against the wall now.
Hugh: You have until midnight to turn her over to me. Otherwise, I'm coming after you.
Me: I'll keep that in mind when I come in her.
But no matter how much satisfaction I get from sticking it to Hugh, it's only short-lived. The moment I think about Blakely and how long it's been since I touched her, the more unsettled I feel.
I should be training her, pushing her to her limits. She should be broken by now, ready to submit on a moment's notice, and aware of all the protocols.
She's clueless.
For the first time ever, I'm going to fail as a Dom. But the thought of my reputation and ego taking a hit isn't what's bothering me.
I'm going to lose Blakley.
Every night, I make the long drive from the city, reprimanding myself for my inaction. Yet the moment I step through the door and see her, or search the house only to find relief when I discover her safe in bed, my mind plays games with me. Everything I used to feel confident about seems broken. Nothing I would normally do with subs seems like it'll work with Blakely.
