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Riggs doesn't answer my question about why he brought me here. I stare at the closing driveway gate, my insides quivering. I've wanted to come home to the beach house for so long. Yet I thought we would have our problems worked out when I finally did. But all we have after tonight are more issues.
My stomach dives, thinking about lying on the metal table, with my legs in stirrups, blindfolded while Riggs negotiated with Papi.
I assumed Riggs was doing it to prove a point to me. I kept waiting for his possessive side to come out and declare that no one besides him touches me. Instead, I was prey for that woman and all the people in attendance.
Riggs gave me up as if in offering. It confuses me more than anything else he's done. How could he have willingly done that if he claims to love me and doesn't want anyone else to have me?
Is it any different than him using me to take my father down?
The question blazes in my mind, making me queasy.
Riggs retains his silence, gets out of the car, and walks around the Porsche. He yanks open my door, holds his hand out, then orders, "Let's go, pet."
I cross my arms over my chest, letting the anger and pain soar through me. I announce, "I'm not going anywhere."
He reaches in, puts his hands under my armpits, and pulls me out of the car.
I cry out, "Don't touch me!"
He booms, "We aren't doing this out here!" He maneuvers me into the house, which only makes my heart bleed. The first thing I see is the crystal piano. Everything we've lost flares in front of me, crushing my soul deeper than I thought possible. All the hours I spent on the piano, how Riggs surprised me with it, and the things we've done on it all seem like a cruel reminder of our damaged relationship.
My shoulders shake from my sobs. I put my hands over my face, unable to cope with everything that's happened this evening, along with all the past traumas.
He tugs me into him, securing his strong arms around me like a security blanket. I hate that he makes me feel safe, but he does, and it only highlights the ache.
"Shh," he coos repeatedly, stroking my hair.
I finally gain control, sniffling like in the car.
He quietly asks, "Pet, are you okay?"
A new rage builds within me, flaring through every cell of my body. I push him away, pleading, "How could you do that to me?"
He arches his eyebrows, claiming, "I thought that's what you wanted."
He throws in my face again, "You wore the collar I gave you on our wedding night. Then you went to the club without me. Thanks to the media, everybody knows that you're my wife and we're having problems. So even if you weren't trying to find another Dom, what kind of message do you think they get when you do that?"
Air turns stale in my lungs. I never thought about it, but he has a point. Still, I reach for the platinum, grip it, and lift my chin higher. I state, "I always wear my collars."
"Because you want to find another Dom!" he accuses again.
"You're such an idiot!"
His eyes grow darker. "How am I an idiot?"
"You can't see what's in front of you," I declare, then start to cry again.
His eyes turn to raging flames. He barks, "What's in front of me? I'll tell you what's in front of me.My wife.The only person in the entire world who means everything to me yet won't have anything to do with me! But she doesn't just stand here, rejecting me. No! My wife wears the collar I gave her on our wedding night. A gift I had designed for her and only her! And she doesn't just wear it without me. She goes to the club in it!"
My emotions are too out of control. I shriek, "That's right! I'm wearing the collaryougave me!"
Devastation flares in his expression. Riggs pins a hateful scowl on me. He accuses, "You're wearing it because you wanted to notify all the Doms that you're looking for a new one!"
I shake my hands in front of me. I'm tired of tears, but more fall out, streaming down my cheeks. I admit, "I wear my collars because it's all I have left of you. It's the only thing that makes me still feel like I'm yours!" Heat burns in my cheeks, and I turn away from him, embarrassed by my admissions. I shouldn't be, but I am. And I wish things weren't so complicated between us but that's our reality. Right now, I'm unsure how they're ever not going to be.
More sadness hits me. I used to be able to tell Riggs all my thoughts, yet everything is so strained between us, it feels like we're foreigners speaking different languages.
His arms wrap around me tighter, and he holds me to his body. The woody-spice-laced-with-orange-peel scent hits me, torturing me again, making the pain of everything we've lost much more intense. It's a knife cutting through me to the point I'm gushing blood. And I just want this ache to go away, but it seems like it never will.
