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“Punishment is something to be hated and avoided,” I say, shaking my head, only because I can’t really make sense of it all. “I don’t understand.”
“It depends on what the infraction is and who’s in charge of discipline. But I know you have a history. I saw your bruises.” I hearhimswallow and clear his throat. “And that’s the only reason whyyouaren’t overmyknee.”
Why does the image of him doing that make my belly dip and swirl, my heart threaten to beat out of my chest?
I should hate that.
I can’t let myself go from one abusive situation to another.
But then I refocus on one of the first couples I noticed and see the look of utter bliss on the woman’s face. I stare. I sit up straighter.
Wait a minute.
“I know her!”
“Who?”
“The woman on that bench. Oh my goodness!” I get to my feet. “Her name’s Quinn. We rode here on the bus together. I have to go see her!”
His strong, warm fingers grip me tighter.
“We’re not done here, and it’s strictly against club regulations for you to enter that room. You’d be interrupting a scene, and only vetted members are allowed down there.”
My heart sinks. I’ve just seen the only friend I’ve ever had in my life other than my sister, and I can’t just let her get away.
“But she’s my friend, Sergio,” I say, my voice wobbly.
“I’ll alert one of my men to make sure we ask her before she leaves if it’s okay for us to share her contact information. We can even try to see if she’ll stay long enough to see you, though she might be leaving with her partner. How did you meet?”
I turn toward him, comfortable in the crook of his arm, his eyes so intense up this close.
I tell him everything.
“Ah, I see. Interesting. I’ll make sure you get to talk to her. But tell me, Eden.”
I look up at him, my heart doing all sorts of strange things in my chest as he asks, “What can I do to make you feel safe?"
I can tell that he’s holding himself back from saying what he wants, doing what he wants, like he's afraid it's going to hurt me. And while I know I should be honored that he doesn't want to hurt me, at the same time it makes me a little… hurt. Like he thinks I’m fragile and breakable.
If he only knew how wrong he is.
I hold my anger back though, because I'm the one that's in the wrong, and he's doing everything he can not to overstep. And there is a part of me that loves that.
I want to give him an honest response, and I'm not entirely sure exactly what I want to say. I draw in a breath, then let it out.
“You asked me to do one thing and I didn't do it. Where I come from, I would be in big trouble for that. And not the kind of trouble that…" I look out the glass wall. "They seem to be enjoying."
He gives me a strange look.
"What?” I ask.
"On the surface you seem like you don't understand the ways of the world. But something tells me that you understand a lot more than most of us do.”
I look down shyly because I'm unaccustomed to praise. And while it makes me uncomfortable, at the same time… I crave more.
I've never wanted a man. All I've ever wanted was to follow the rules so that I wouldn't be hurt or cast away. And being around these people… aroundhim… has made me realize that this desire was only about my need for survival.
“Eden, you make me want to be the most honest person in the world.”
