Bound in Blue (25 page)

Her lips trembled. “How nice. Settling
accounts.”

“Sara.” His voice rose on an anguished note.
“Please understand, I’m not the fatherly type. I don’t know how to
do this. Here you are, my grown-up daughter, and you’re feeling all
these things, and imagining this incredible solo act, and falling
in love when I’ve barely had a chance to know you. You’re too much
for me, dear girl. You’re so much more than I expected you to
be.”

She blinked at him and took a step back.
“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know what it means.” He spread his
arms in frustration. “I’m making a mess of this, just as I knew I
would. I understand your anger. I deserve it.”

Anger? No. She wasn’t angry. She was
devastated. She was confused and emotionally gutted. “I think I’d
better go, Mr. Lemaitre.” Her voice faded on the formal address. He
was her father, for God’s sake.

“Why don’t you call me Michel?” he offered.
“Until we figure things out?”

“Figure things out?” she said, looking around
his office, at all the mementos that defined this man. Her
father
. “I don’t even know you. Everything I thought about
you is…”

“I’m sorry.”

She took another step back, and another. “I
think... I think I’m... I’m going to go and...take some time to
process this.”

“Of course,” he said. “If you need me I’ll be
here, just as I have been. I’ll do anything to help you. None of
that will change.”

You weren’t there last year, when I took a
job at a sex club. When I didn’t have any family left in the world
except for Baat.
She needed Jason. Jason would hold her and
comfort her, and help her make sense of this crazy revelation. She
took one last look over her shoulder at the man who was her father,
but not really her father.

The man who didn’t want to be her father.
That’s what hurt her most of all.

Jason was in the middle of a multi-artist
tumbling team when he noticed Sara at the door of the gymnastics
facility. He saw all the hands coming up to hide whispers. Everyone
knew by now that Baat had a problem with alcohol and that Sara had
stayed quiet about it. He wanted to protect her, to explain her
side of things, but the only real explanation was that she’d messed
up.

He’d punished her because he had to, because
he couldn’t move past the choice she’d made without venting his
fear and frustration, his anger that she hadn’t confided in him.
Since then, he’d tried to buoy up her spirits, but she had a long
way to go to regain everyone’s trust. As she walked toward him, she
received more than a few judgmental looks.

He asked the gymnast team to break for a
moment and jogged over to meet her by the wall. “Sara, I’m busy.
Things are crazy here.” She looked pale, wrung out. Her eyes were
rimmed in red. “What happened?” he asked. “What did Lemaitre
say?”

“He didn’t say anything bad.” She paused and
rubbed her forehead. “He just said...”

“What?” he prompted when she hesitated.

She stared up at him. “He said he was my
father. That I’m his daughter. That’s why...my eyes... That’s the
reason they’re blue.”

Jason touched her face, wishing he could
smooth away the pain etched on her features. So Lemaitre had
finally fessed up. Why now, on top of everything else she was going
through?

“Oh, baby.” He drew her into his arms,
cradling her close. “So, how does that make you feel? What did you
say when he told you?”

“What did I say?” Sara stiffened and pulled
away from him, her sadness transforming to anger. Fuck. He’d
remembered too late to add surprise to his expression.

“You knew.” It wasn’t a question. Her gaze
eviscerated him. “You already knew. You knew and you never told
me.”

“Sara—”

“When were you going to tell me? Didn’t you
think it was important?”

“Sara—”

She looked around at the gawking performers
lounging on the mats. “Who else knew? Everyone? Did everyone know
but me?”

He held up a finger, cautioning her. “If you
don’t lower your voice, everyone is going to know.”

“Well, I guess it’s not much of a big fucking
secret, if you already knew.”

He let out a soft sigh. “I knew, and Theo.
And Theo told Kelsey.”

“But not me, right? Because why would I need
to know?”

His sweet little slave was livid. The worst
part was, she had a right to be. “Honey, I would have told you but
Lemaitre begged me not to. He thought it was best. He asked all of
us not to tell you.”

“When did you know?”

Heads turned at her sharp, shrill question.
He angled himself so he stood between Sara and the performers.
“This might not be the ideal time to discuss this.”

“No, I want to discuss it. When did you know?
Did you know from the start, when you came to Mongolia?”

“I didn’t, I swear. I didn’t figure it out
until he kicked you out of the Citadel.”

“And you didn’t see the need to tell me?”

“Listen, you haven’t heard the whole story.”
He grabbed her arm, meaning to find a more private place for the
discussion, but she pushed him away.

“Don’t ‘listen’ me. Don’t touch me.”

He backed away from her, at a loss. This
wasn’t how their dynamic worked.
You don’t have a “dynamic”
anymore. You’ve lost her respect.

He knew he’d lost it before she gave voice to
it. Her pretty English syllables stabbed him in the heart. “You’re
a hypocrite, Jason. You lectured me. You punished me for keeping
secrets.”

“For keeping secrets about something that
endangered your life,” he shot back. “It’s not the same. I punished
you because you could have died.”

“I don’t trust you now. What else aren’t you
telling me? If you’ll stay silent about a big thing like that?”

He recognized the words as his own. She had
him, she was right. He was a liar and a hypocrite. He’d expected
truth from her while he kept deep, dark secrets she deserved to
know.

“Lemaitre asked me not to tell you. He
threatened me,” he said, pleading his useless case. “He’s my boss,
Sara.”

“But I’m your lover. Your slave. You gave me
a ring, you bound us together.”

“Sara.”

“I trusted you.”

“I promised to keep it a secret,” he said.
“He thought it would be better if you didn’t know and I agreed with
him. He won’t be a good father to you.”

“I guess that means it was okay for you to
hide this from me. See, I never realized this before. It doesn’t
matter. Being truthful and honest, and trusting people. It doesn’t
matter. Nobody is who they say they are. Everybody’s just...” She
gave a wild wave. “It’s all an act, right? Circus!”

“Please, baby, take some deep breaths. It’s
been a crazy couple of days. We’re all exactly who we are, and I
love you, and everything’s going to be okay.”

“No. We’re not all exactly who we are,” she
said, her voice shaking with emotion. “Because Baat isn’t who I
thought he was, and my father isn’t who I thought he was, and
Lemaitre isn’t who I thought he was, and my Master...he isn’t who I
thought he was either.”

He wanted to take her in his arms, make her
believe he’d never meant to hurt her, but some wall had appeared
between them, too jagged and high to climb. “I’m not perfect, okay?
I’m human. I was trying to protect you. I didn’t think Lemaitre...”
This was the worst thing. “I don’t think Lemaitre intends to be
your father. I didn’t want you to be hurt.”

But it was too late for that. She was hurt,
hurt so badly she couldn’t look at him.

“What did he say to you?” he asked. “That
fucking asshole. I didn’t want him to hurt you.”

“He didn’t, not intentionally. But I think
you’re right. He doesn’t want to be my father.” Her delicate throat
worked with emotion. “He was more interested in...how did he put
it? ‘Nurturing my gift.’”

“Can I hold you?” he asked. It sounded like
begging. “Can I try to help you feel better? I love you, Sara. I
want you to be happy.”

“The thing is...” She brought her hands to
her drawn cheeks. “The thing is, I don’t know if I’ll be happy for
a while. I think I need some time. I’m going to go home and be
alone for a few days, because right now, I don’t know what’s going
on with my life. I don’t know how I feel.” She slid a sideways look
at him. “And I don’t want you telling me how to feel.”

Because I don’t trust you anymore.
She
didn’t say the last words, but Jason heard them clear as a blue
Mongolian sky. “If you need time, take time,” he told her, but she
was already walking away from him.

She didn’t need his permission anymore.

* * * * *

Jason tried to give her time. He lasted
forty-eight hours without calling or texting her, without trying to
find her at the practice facility. He had plenty of work to do,
plenty to keep him busy, but her words haunted him.
I trusted
you.
Trusted. Past tense.

In the end he had to seek her out. Theo and
Kelsey were gone to Marseille, Lemaitre wasn’t answering calls.
There wasn’t anyone else to look after her, and looking after her
was his job. In his heart he was still her Master, with all the
duty and caring that entailed. They belonged together. They’d both
agreed to that from the beginning. He’d just explain again that he
never meant to hurt her. Maybe she’d listen now that she’d had some
time to calm down.

With that in mind, he headed to her dorm,
feeling chilled even though it was a warm night. As he walked, he
made plans in his head: what he’d do if she didn’t let him in, what
he’d do if she did let him in. What he’d do if she pushed him away
and slammed the door in his face. But when he knocked, it wasn’t
Sara who swung the door wide.

Jason stared at Michel Lemaitre. His tie was
askew, his shirt collar crooked. He didn’t look like himself.

“Where’s Sara?” Jason asked, pushing past
him. “I need to see her.”

“Sara isn’t here.”

Jason stalked around, checking the bedroom,
the bathroom, the closets. “If she’s not here, what are you doing
here?”

The older man sat back down on her couch.
“They are my dormitories, and she was my daughter. I suppose I can
brood here if I like.”

Was
his daughter? Panic exploded in
his brain. “Where is she? What happened?”

Lemaitre held up a hand. “Nothing’s happened.
She asked to go with Kelsey and Theo to Marseille, and I said
yes.”

“She went to Marseille? She left?
Already?”

“Very much the same way she left Mongolia.
Once she makes up her mind, she doesn’t stick around.”

Jason paced to the kitchen and back, reeling
with disbelief. She hadn’t consulted him, hadn’t told him anything.
She’d taken off without so much as a goodbye.

“You sent her away.” He advanced on Lemaitre
again. “You did this. You sent her to Marseille.”

“No. I wanted her to stay here. I wanted us
to have some time to...” His voice trailed off. “But it’s good.
This is what she needs at the moment. Theo will continue to work
with her there until her solo act’s ready.”

“What solo act?”

“You haven’t been paying attention, have you?
Perhaps that’s why she left without this.” He stood and walked to
her desk, and picked up a narrow blue ribbon. When Jason walked
closer, he realized it was tied around her ring, the promise ring
he’d given her.

She’d left him. They’d come unbound.

Jason took the ring and turned it over in his
palm. He didn’t want to believe she’d left him, but there it was.
“There wasn’t anything else?” he asked, looking up at Lemaitre. “A
message? A note?”

“Just the ring.” He clapped Jason on the
shoulder. “Don’t take it too hard. I don’t think she would be so
upset with you if she didn’t love you so much.”

Jason stared at the delicate circle with its
pale blue stone. He couldn’t even fit it on his pinky. “Leave it
here for her,” said Lemaitre. “She’ll want it back.”

“No, I’m taking it.” His voice sounded petty,
like a child’s, but he wasn’t giving up the ring. Right now, it was
all he had of her. “I can’t believe she just...just left.”

“I believe it, because I was here. She was
confused, and very angry. Wouldn’t you be?” Lemaitre drifted around
her living room, looking at her bookshelves, at the few things
she’d accumulated since she arrived. “This is a necessary break for
her, a time to fly solo for a while. It’s good. She’s growing.” He
turned to look down his nose at Jason. “You told her, didn’t you,
that she was too young?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t mean it! I didn’t want
her to actually outgrow me.”

Lemaitre shook his head, tracing a felt
flower on her bulletin board. “Then why did you wait? I don’t
understand you, Jason. You had her. You had her right here, and you
didn’t claim her.”

“Pot, kettle. Kettle, pot. You did the same
thing.”

Lemaitre made a peeved sound and leaned
against the wall. “We’re a miserable couple of idiots, aren’t
we?”

“You never told me about her act.”

“From what I understand, it’s about a girl
stuck between two worlds, with fears and anxieties, and loneliness.
Lots of anguish.” He gave a rueful chuckle. “She’s my daughter. I’d
believe it even without the blue eyes.”

You don’t deserve her for a daughter.
He bit his tongue against the words. Perhaps he didn’t deserve her
as a slave either. “Do you think...” He took a sharp, pained
breath. “Fears and anxieties, and loneliness. Is this act about
her?”

“Of course it is,” he said. “Because there’s
love in it also. Not that I’d know anything about that.”

Jason leaned on the wall opposite him and
pinned the great Le Maître with his gaze. “You love her, Michel.
Deep down, you want to be her father. You’re dying to be her
father.”

“I can’t do it, so it doesn’t matter. I don’t
do love the ‘right’ way. I don’t love like other people.”