Love Ignited (Hollywood Series Book 2) Page 6

  He was different than any patient I’d ever had. I felt as though we were playing cards but my hand was always showing. It made me feel both inept and vulnerable.

  “So when do I leave?” he asked when he walked into my office.

  “Leave?”

  “Yeah, I mean, you’re transferring me, right?”

  I was stunned for a moment because that was exactly what I’d tried to do. “No.”

  “But—”

  “You’re stuck here. I’m sorry. If that’s what you’re trying to accomplish with this vile behavior, then you’re beating a dead horse. It won’t work.”

  “Is that what you think? That I’m trying to pull something over on you?”

  “Do you have a better explanation?”

  “If I stay here, you’ll regret it,” he said. His tone shook me to the core.

  “Are you threatening me?”

  He relaxed his stance, collapsing into the sofa with his head in his hands. “It’s not a threat. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Listen, Nathan, here’s the truth.” I thought long and hard before I spoke, but ultimately decided to continue. “I did try to have you transferred. The district attorney won’t allow it. It’s here or jail.” He still didn’t look at me. “Things went too far yesterday. That was my fault.”

  “No, it wasn’t you—”

  “Yes, it was. I’m your therapist. I was trying to give a little to get you to open up. I thought it would help me gain your trust, but I can’t work like that. If you don’t want to talk to me, then don’t, but I’m not going to talk to you about my personal life anymore. You can’t touch me. I don’t want to sleep with you. If you want to work this program, then you’ll have to respect the fact that everything I have to offer you is purely professional. It’s not tit for tat: you give so I give. It’s not going to be like that. Do you understand?”

  He stared out the window for a long moment. I thought he would fold into himself again, but I didn’t say anything lest I trigger another sexual inquisition.

  “What do you want to know?” he asked, still looking out of the window.

  “Tell me about your family.”

  He didn’t speak again for another long moment. “I’m not an only child. Did you know that?”

  “Yes, I think I read that somewhere. You have a sister, right?”

  “Had. I had a sister.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, me too. My parents favored her. I didn’t blame them. It didn’t bother me. She was really smart and sweet. She had this kindness about her that I just don’t possess or understand. She got all of the good traits.”

  “I don’t think that’s fair…”

  “It is,” he said with a shrug. He didn’t seem at all bitter about it, just resigned.

  “Is that why you aren’t close with your parents?”

  “No,” he laughed. “It wasn’t that that drove us apart.”

  “What was it then?”

  He turned from the window to look at me. “Is it necessary that I tell you this?”

  “I think it would be helpful for you to talk about it. It’s obviously a factor in your current situation.”

  He studied my face for any sign that I was being untruthful then gave a nod. “I killed her. I killed my sister.”

  I waited for him to explain, but he didn’t. I allowed him a moment of silence before I delved back in. “You mean you had an accident or…?”

  “No. I mean I killed her.”

  The way he had just spoken of her was so loving that I didn’t believe he’d intentionally hurt his sister, but with his admission of being addicted to danger and control, I had to ask. “You”—I cleared my throat—“you murdered your sister?”

  “Not in the eyes of the law, but as far as I’m concerned, I may as well have put a gun to her head and pulled the trigger.”

  I didn’t realize I was so tense until I relaxed my shoulders. “What happened?”

  “You know, I can tell you that this has nothing to do with why I use drugs.”

  “Why don’t you let me decide?” I said gently.

  He regarded me briefly before refocusing his attention outside. “It all happened really fast, you know? Have you ever made a decision that seemed so simple at the time, but it changed everything?” Yes, I thought. “Of course, you haven’t. You’re a good person. You would never do something so selfish…”

  His words triggered a memory of my own selfish decisions, but I counted backward from ten to escape the moment. “Go on,” I urged.

  “Have you ever hurt anyone, Doc?” His face contorted with emotional pain. My fingers itched to reach out to him. “Well, have you?”

  “Everyone has caused someone pain in one way or another, but no, I’ve never physically injured anyone…directly.” I almost whispered the last word. I didn’t mean to say it at all, but I felt like I shouldn’t lie to him now that he was opening up.

  “Why don’t you start from the beginning?” I prompted him again.

  “It’s not a long story. She got sick and died. That’s it.”

  “How is that your fault?”

  “Because she needed my kidney, and I wasn’t there to give it to her. She died of acute renal failure after a bout with the swine flu.”

  “You couldn’t have known if you were even a match.”

  “I did know. I was a match.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. “They said they could keep her on dialysis. They told me that would sustain her until I got back.”

  “Back from where?”

  “I don’t even know if I can say it.”

  “This is a safe place. You can talk about anything here,” I assured him. “I won’t judge you.”

  “A fucking audition. I went to audition for a role. I got a call from a director…no, the director, the one I’d always wanted to work with. He wanted me for a role. He’d already decided that he wanted me, but he said the producer needed to see me read for it. It was the role I’d been waiting for years to play. I told the director about my sister, and he said he understood. He told me that if I didn’t show up, he would understand, but he would have to go with someone else.

  “I wanted that role so bad I could taste it, but I said no and decided to go ahead with the transplant. My sister could see through me, though. She knew I wanted it. Some kind of twin superpower I guess.”

  “You were twins?”

  He lifted his shirtsleeve to reveal his tattoo. It was a roman numeral two – II.

  “She told me to go and do the read. It only delayed the surgery by a couple of days…but it was a couple too many.” A lone tear slipped from his eye, and I couldn’t help but leave my desk to comfort him.

  “Nathan, you can’t blame yourself.” I slid beside him on the sofa and patted his hand. “Look at me. Sometimes things…” I had to hold back my own emotion from my own past. “Sometimes things just happen. We can’t control everything.”

  “I shouldn’t have left.”

  “I’m not going to try to convince you that leaving was the right decision. I couldn’t if I wanted to, but you did leave. It’s done. You can’t spend the rest of your life in that moment. Your sister wanted you to be happy. She gave her life for it.” His whole body tensed. “Don’t throw away yours because of one mistake. You have to forgive yourself, even if your parents don’t forgive you.”

  “Forgive myself?”

  “Yes, forgive yourself. Move on.”

  “Obviously, you’ve never lost anyone,” he snarled.

  I debated for only a moment before I said, “Yes, I have. I understand.”

  “Don’t say that. Don’t pretend to empathize with me. I can take a lot of shit, but not that.”

  “Okay.” I nodded, even though I could empathize with him. More than he would ever know.

  “So you just stopped talking to your parents after that?”

  “You just don’t quit, do you? You n
eed me to spill everything in one day? Are you trying to break a record or something?”

  “I’m sorry. We can stop here if you like.”

  “Who did you lose?” I turned my head to escape his eyes. I didn’t want to get into it. I was afraid of how he’d made me lose control yesterday. I was scared that it would happen again, but it would be my emotions exposed instead of my body.

  “I think this is a good stopping point. Actually, why don’t you take the afternoon off? You’ve done really well today.”

  I patted his hand again and went to stand up, but he grabbed a hold of my hand, “Doc…”

  I glanced down at his hand on mine. I knew he was going to push for answers, so I cut him off. “Nathan, this is your therapy, not mine.”

  I slipped my hand from his grasp and stood. He looked up at me. His features were soft and purely vulnerable for the first time since he’d gotten here. It took every bit of strength I had not to pull him into a hug.

  He didn’t give me the chance. He stood up and walked out. I let myself collapse into the sofa as soon as the door closed behind him.

  ****

  The afternoon seemed to drone on and on. I told Mrs. Faulkner to keep an eye out for Mr. Bradley. I didn’t like the way he’d walked out. He looked too upset. I felt as though I should’ve eased him out of the conversation, instead of bringing the session to such an abrupt halt, and letting him leave hurt and vulnerable.

  The man made me second-guess every move I made with him. I hated it. It made me feel incompetent.

  As night fell, I decided to curl up with a book to take my mind off of this case. When I read, I became completely engrossed in the story. I forgot everything but what was happening in the pages.

  I grabbed my sweet tea along with my Kindle and made my way out to the lanai. It was warm with a nice cool summer breeze, perfect weather for outdoor reading. The glistening pool beckoned me, but I opened my book and forgot the pool existed.

  Before I knew it, I was halfway through the novel and my eyelids were drooping from the soft sounds of the evening. The crickets practically sang me a lullaby, and I dozed off in my poolside lounger.

  I was startled awake by Ivan’s bark. “Okay, boy,” I said sleepily. “We can go to bed.” I got up with a stretch and walked toward the house, but he didn’t budge. He barked again out into the night. The hairs on my arms stood up. “Ivan, what is it?” His bark was aggressive.

  Someone was here.

  “It’s probably just Anna or Frank, boy.” I petted him, trying to calm us both. “Come on, let’s go out front and check it out.” He took off through the house straight to the front door. I followed behind him cautiously. Not even Mrs. Faulkner knew my gate code. No one ever came down here. I grabbed the pepper spray from my purse and flung the door open with such force that it bounced off the wall.

  I felt my body go limp with relief when no one was there. “Ivan, you’re getting rusty, my friend.”

  I went to close the door, but he took off across the yard, straight through his hidden dog opening in the gate, and ran down toward the stables.

  “Ivan! Shit!” I grabbed my flashlight and flip-flops before chasing after him.

  Halfway to the stable, I began to panic. I didn’t even have a phone. I was all alone. No one would hear me if I screamed. What if he was here? What if he had found me?

  No, no, no, he couldn’t have. It wasn’t possible. Ivan was just losing it. There had to be a reasonable explanation. Still, as I neared the stables, I was cautious. My steps faltered when I heard a male’s voice grunt. Frank, oh my goodness. He must’ve come down to check on Sparkle. She’d been acting funny all week.

  I rounded the corner and stopped in my tracks as I took in the scene before me. My eyes widened; my jaw dropped. Nathan’s hands were tied above his head with a leather horse rein. He was facing the wooden post nude. I could see his bare thighs on either side of the post.

  “Again!” he commanded, and I heard the crack of leather across the bare skin of his backside. A yelp escaped me, and his brown eyes met mine. A tall, thin woman peered around to face me. Ivan looked to me for a command, but I had no command for this.

  “Ella,” Nathan said his eyes full of horror as he struggled against his restraints. The woman behind him raised her whip and lashed him again. He hissed but never took his eyes off of mine.

  “RED!” he shouted at the woman behind him. He pulled so hard at his restraints I could see the cords of his muscles straining.

  “Turn him loose,” I shouted. The woman regarded me with a smile. “I said, turn him loose!” I was completely and totally confused. Had this woman broken into my estate and taken my patient hostage? Was she working for the man I feared?

  “Let him go, or my dog will tear you limb from limb,” I said, my voice hard. She raised her brow and lifted her whip again.

  “Ivan, attack!” He didn’t hesitate. He leapt forward at the woman.

  “Ella, no,” Nathan shouted, pulling his hands free. Ivan had already knocked the woman down and taken her weapon.

  “Aus,” I said calling him off. “Guard.” He stood over the now trembling woman.

  “He asked me to,” she shouted from the ground. “He likes it!”

  Of all the things I had imagined, when I saw her beating him, it never crossed my mind that he’d invited her here to hurt him. I looked at Nathan. Shame was written all over his face as he struggled to get his boxers on.

  “Get off my property before I call the police,” I told the woman coolly. She hopped up and broke into a sprint across the property and out into the night.

  I stared at Nathan for a beat then turned and walked away. I wouldn’t even know where to begin to address this situation from a professional standpoint. He chased after me, grabbing my arm and swinging me around to face him. Ivan growled viciously, but Nathan didn’t let go.

  “I…I don’t know what to say.”

  “You snuck a woman in here to beat you in my barn?” I screamed. “Was that some sort of sex game?”

  “No!”

  “Then what was it?” He hung his head. “Answer me!”

  “You…you didn’t punish me. You tried to make me feel like it was okay,” he replied.

  My eyes grew impossibly wider. “What? Why would I punish you?”

  “I told you what I did…and you didn’t hate or judge me. You fucking told me to forgive myself—”

  “Nathan, why would I hate you? I’m not here to judge you. Surely you understand that.”

  “I shouldn’t have left her.”

  “So you feel like you need to be punished for something you did three years ago? Help me understand what you’re saying.”

  He ran his hands through his hair, tugging. “I’m so fucked up. I’m so, so fucked up.”

  I pulled him into a hug because I didn’t know what else to do. His emotional state was too fragile for me to lecture him about breaking the rules.

  “Help me,” he whispered into my neck. “Please, help me.”

  “Let’s get you to bed.”

  “No.” He pulled out of my arms.

  “Talk to me, then. Tell me what’s going through your mind.” I led him back to the barn and sat him down. He’d managed to get his boxers on. “Is this something you do often? Do you let women punish you?”

  His brows sunk onto his eyes angrily. “No.”

  “Help me understand what’s going on. I’m completely lost. Do you like to be beaten?”

  “No.”

  “Then what?”

  He shook his head. “I can’t control it.”

  “Control what?”

  “Since everything happened with my sister…I’ve changed. I can’t deal with the emotional pain of what I did. It hurts so bad…” He wrapped his arms around himself, leaning over. It was heartbreaking. I knew what it felt like to feel the need to physically hold yourself together, to just keep pushing the emotions down.

  “This pain, the emotional kind, it’s completely uncont
rollable. It’s not like physical pain. I don’t know what to do with it, so I do this.”

  “You have someone inflict physical pain on you?” I asked with shock.

  He looked away from me. “Only when I’m overwhelmed by the hurt of my actions.”

  I was trying to wrap my mind around what he was saying, but I stood and began to pace instead. He had PTSD, post-traumatic stress disorder. He was trying to turn his emotional pain into something physically palpable.

  “This isn’t sexual for you?” I clarified.

  “No, I’m usually the disciplinarian.”

  I felt myself tense. “You like to beat women?”

  “No, of course not,” he said louder than necessary, clearly offended. “I give them pleasure.”

  “Pleasure…” I repeated lamely before regaining focus. “Being a disciplinarian, is that how you express yourself sexually?”

  “Yes, but I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

  “Have you ever tried a more traditional way? A healthier way?”

  “Not really.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “You have to understand, being in this industry has a way of stripping the innocence right out of a person. Let’s just say I lost my virginity at a young age. My first few partners were just hit and runs. I was young. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I felt inept. I felt like something was missing from the experience.

  “Then a woman came along and took me under her wing. She was older and beautiful. She was also a dominatrix. I was only sixteen; she was twenty-six.”

  I gawked at him.

  “I really thought being submissive was the only way to please a woman until she let me switch roles one time. I was her submissive for a year before I realized that I preferred to be the Dominant. She guided me through the proper channels to become a Dom, and that’s all I’ve known since then. I hate thinking about the year that I spent as her submissive. I hate that I allowed myself to be dominated.”

  “But you let women do it to you now?”

  He squeezed his eyes shut. “I hate the part of me that needs that. I never fully submit. I tell them what I want, but still it disgusts me. I never thought I would want to be touched like that again, but it fills something…some void. I need it to stop. I can’t deal with it.”