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I bunch the fabric of my dress in my fists as I hear him make his way towards me. My breath stutters in my chest, nausea swirling in my gut.
The door swings open and bite my lip at his thunderous expression, the newspaper still crumpled and ruined in his fist. I keep my mouth shut as he orders, “Sit,” and points to his bed. I don’t even bother protesting as someone else follows him into his room. It's an older gentleman, with white hair and kind eyes, carrying a briefcase with him.
No one speaks as he sets up next to Carson’s bed and I’m quick to figure out he’s a doctor. Carson paces behind him the entire time as he draws my blood and asks me several questions. At least my answers seem to please Carson the slightest bit. I’ve only had one sexual partner, over a year ago. I’ve been tested since then and I’m on birth control to help manage my periods.
After the doctor places a bandaid on my arm where he drew blood he hands me a cup I recognize from most doctor’s offices. My cheeks heat furiously, but I take it and head to the bathroom without a word.
Complete submission. That’s what Carson demanded after claiming I failed to go no contact with the guys. His last demands were to perform my role flawlessly and I have. Even Shelby and Vanessa believe Carson and I are truly in love. That’s how well I have executed my role.
I bite my tongue even during the uncomfortable process of peeing in the cup when I’m totally alone. I place it in the bag the doctor gave me and wash my hands thoroughly in steaming hot water. Anything to try and feel just a little bit cleaner after this degrading experience.
It shouldn’t be that bad. It’s something I’ve done a hundred times before. Never the most pleasant experience, but nothing like this. Somehow this makes me mortified and horrified at my own lack of control in my life.
The kind doctor is waiting outside the bathroom door when I open it. He takes the bag from me before gently patting me on the shoulder in encouragement. I give him a brief smile before steeling myself to go back to Carson’s room.
We stare at each other in silence for several long moments. Long enough for me to feel like I’m choking on the tension in the room. We hear the front door close behind the doctor and in the same second, Carson is moving. He rushes past me, slamming his bedroom door closed. I flinch at the loud sound.
A mirthless laugh comes from his lips and I hate that it scares me. That I feel trapped and helpless all over again.
“Revenge, you said?” he asks coldly, backing me up into the wall. The position becoming all too familiar. His angry face looms over me. I want to rage, push him away from me, refuse to cower before him. But I’m not so reassured by the fact he wants me more than he wants to destroy the guys like I once was. In this moment I think he may crave my demise as much as the guys do.
I swallow and nod slowly. The best choice, the only choice, is to forget about my pride. Act meek and apologetic. Give Carson what he wants so I can bide my time and save all of us.
His fingers trail slowly down my cheek. How can a gentle touch feel anything but? Feel like a deadly threat rather than a sweet caress.
“They seem determined to ruin your reputation,” he murmurs. I nod along with him. I can’t exactly deny that. It seems like they are putting their all into that very goal.
“I didn’t realize I would be so busy cleaning up after you,” he continues. He doesn’t give me a chance to respond, running his thumb over my lips. “A full retraction will be printed tomorrow with an apology. The journalist who wrote the article has already been expelled.”
He looks at me expectantly and it takes me a moment to realize what he wants. “Thank you, Carson,” I whisper. I don’t really feel grateful at all. I just want the space to breathe again, away from him. I want to be able to not have to care about any of this bullshit. I’ve never had to care about it before.
He hums his approval, but I can still see the beast of fury riding him hard. My compliance so far and my answers to the doctor may have soothed him, but I know it’s not nearly enough. I just don’t know what will be. If anything will be.
“Have you thought about ways to make this up to me, Darling?”
My mouth parts open in shock. I knew this was coming but I still didn’t want to accept it. I scramble, trying to think of something, anything to say to fill the ever growing silence. I clear my throat. “I’ve been fulfilling my role to the best of my ability.”
A sharp smack fills me with shock. It takes a moment for me to even comprehend the sting of my cheek, the ringing in my ears, the tears suddenly filling my eyes.
“That wasn’t what I asked,” Carson growls.
“I…” I trail off, shaking my head to clear it. Did Carson… Did Carson just slap me? I lift my hand to my cheeks, cradling where it still stings, sensitive to the touch, the sensation reverberating through my face. I can’t think past that. Can’t form a full thought in my shock.
Carson presses his chest against mine, wedging his knee in between my legs until we are as close as we can be. “A fake relationship isn’t going to be enough. Not anymore. Not when I have to deal with this bullshit.”
I hear his words but I can’t quite grasp them as my mind still hasn’t caught up.
“Don’t even think about fighting back, Brielle. I won’t hesitate to have all four of them arrested.”
That’s the only warning I get before his lips descend on mine, his fingers gripping my chin tightly to keep me from moving away from him. My mind swirls, lost in the chaos of overwhelming feelings. Too much has happened in the last few minutes for me to even begin to try and grasp what’s happening.
I’m dazed and confused as I let his lips work over mine. I promise myself not to make it worse than it has to be. His tongue slips into my mouth, searching out my own. I struggle not to gag at the slimy sensation. At the invasion I never wanted. It’s somehow worse than any other kiss we’ve previously shared. A new layer of disgust and violation fills me as I stand there, not encouraging him but not pushing him away either.
He pulls away from me and studies my expression. “I expect perfection to make up for cleaning up your messes. You keeping me happy is the only thing keeping those bastards free.”
I stare at him as quizzically as he was staring at me. “I thought you wanted me to choose you?”
He shrugs, dropping my face and stepping away from me. “You made it clear you weren’t going to. I was going to give you time,” he trails off, studying his nails.
