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Oh, thank God.
He was in there still. I unfolded and plastered my sign against the window, then I tapped. I took off the sombrero and the sunglasses. He was just getting up from his chair when he saw me. His gaze locked on mine.
I desperately wanted to emphasize the importance of this, my need, but couldn’t think of a way, so I merely swiveled the paper on the glass a little, and I waited, trying not to shake, trying to look lost and forlorn.
Which I was.
The sign was simple: Meet me at the park. Please. I HAVE to talk. I beg you.
I stared some more then he nodded. The hairs on the back of my neck rose. Cold shivers ran all the way down my arms. He’d said yes. Oh fuck.
The park was up the hill a little to the right, farther along the beach road. We’d often met there to share a picnic lunch back in the days when we were couple.
Even next to the beach, with the breeze coming off the water, it was hot at midday on Magnetic Island – especially hiking up a small hill. His jeep growled past me on the way and he never slowed at all. Okay, I could take that. He hadn’t wanted to meet me. This was my idea.
It did hurt, though. This was what I could look forward to – more distancing, and more rejection. If he blamed himself and thought he was dangerous, I had to be ready to rebut his arguments. Think of this as a kinky debate. One that had our future riding on it.
The last twenty yards as I approached the bench where he sat were fraught with both a severe case of oh-my-god-what-am-I-going-to-say, and a joy that I’d see him again. The tree overhead left the seat in the coolness of shade and the ground covered in leaves that crunched underfoot.
I arrived to the sound of fractured leaves and the whine of the wind.
He’d draped himself with his arm along the back of the iron and slatted timber bench, with a big, long section un-sat in and unoccupied. I eyed it but wasn’t game to sit. Though I wanted to so very much. The warm swell that built inside me as I waited before Klaus shook me. He was pretending I hadn’t arrived, and watching something, or nothing, in the distance.
The wind flung my hair across my face, and I pulled it from my mouth, then I waited until the tension tore at my heart too much. “Sir?”
His eyes were sadder but still pretty, if a man’s could be called that. The long pants and button-up cotton shirt from work emphasized his masculinity. There were muscles under there, ones that could hold me down with ease while he did things to me, evil, nasty, wonderful things. I wanted to touch his jaw and feel the stubble against my skin. I wanted to look up and see him looking down at me, his property.
“I’m not your Sir,” he said gently. “What do you want, Jodie?”
Not. The negative made my eyes ache.
You, of course. I want you. I dredged up a better answer. “I want to know why you left me.”
A pause. He seemed into letting me wait forever for his answers. I wasn’t going away without them, even if he took a hundred years.
“I told you why.”
“That didn’t make sense.” More silence. “Yes, you hurt me, but I wanted you to.”
A frown slowly crept onto his brow. “You’ve forgotten that Kat wanted to stick a needle through your nipple? Maybe you have but that doesn’t change anything. You were terrified. I knew it. I saw it and ignored it. I can’t trust myself with you.” Now he saw me properly, dissected me from my feet to my face. “Let me loose and one day I’d probably hurt you badly. I’m a sadist and a sociopath. Now do you understand?”
Uh. I remembered. I saw that needle again, at my breast. “Yes, she was scaring me, but you stopped her.”
“Because she kept at me until I woke up. Are you wearing only that?”
“What?” Confused, I glanced down at my scanty clothes. “I’ve got a T-shirt.” Maybe if I stuck out my chest and flirted?
“You’ll get sunburnt. Put it on.”
His concern for my well-being startled me and the sting returned to my eyes. He did still care. For a moment I let myself imagine he was still my Master and this was his command, but the feeling dwindled to a pitiful nothing. He wasn’t, of course. It wasn’t. This was nothing more than what he’d say to anyone. Despite the sombrero, my shoulders did feel burnt just from the walk here.
I sighed. Miserable, I took off the sombrero, found the T shirt in my cloth bag and pulled it on.
I understood now. More than I had.
He was so terribly patient with me. I might have had to drag him to this meeting but he was explaining this to me without yelling or looking angry. Even now he simply waited for me to process what he’d said. Like if maybe he got this told to me right and done with, he’d not have to repeat it? He was wrong though, wasn’t he?
Eyes half-shut, still puzzling over the ramifications, I shook my head. “I remember that – Kat, the needle, and being really panicky, but you stopped her, you stopped yourself.” I looked in his eyes. “You never truly hurt me more than I could stand. It was part of what made it all worthwhile for me. I liked it.” I searched for a word, clenched my fist to my chest. “I reveled in it. I want it to be us again. Please. Please, try.”
