Authors: Brynley Bush
I take a sip, relishing the hot bitterness as it burns a path down my throat.
“How are you, honey?” she asks, sinking into the armchair across from me.
“I love him,” I tell her simply. “I've got to try to tell him that. I know he may not listen or believe me, but at least I'll know I tried. If love isn't worth fighting for, I don't know what is.”
“Hell, yes!” Lainey says, raising her coffee cup in solidarity.
After two cups of coffee and a pep talk from Lainey, I'm feeling more optimistic. I have called the airline and changed my flight until tomorrow morning so I can go and talk to Beckett tonight, and I've texted both my mom and Nikki to tell them about the slight change in plans. I'm just about to get in the shower when Gavin calls.
We've kept in touch sporadically since the gala. When I stopped by his shop to return the dress I ended up taking him to lunch to thank him, and then he had insisted that I send him photos from the gala, which started a friendship of sorts that has blossomed through email. It's nice to know that someone I know through Beckett doesn't hate me. Then again, maybe that's why he's calling.
“Girl!” he says as soon as I answer. “I saw the news. Dominic says you betrayed Beckett by talking to the media, but I've seen you two together and I'm not buying for a second that you did that to him on purpose.”
The fact that he can see that and that he believes me causes a huge lump in my throat.
“Thanks, Gavin,” I say. “You have no idea how much I needed to hear that. Beckett hates me!”
“I saw the way that man devours you in one look. He doesn't hate you. You just need the chance to explain what really happened.”
“I know,” I say miserably.
“What did happen?” he asks curiously.
Taking a deep breath, I try to explain. “Do you know Camille Penworth? She's the one who got those pictures of Beckett at the club last year and tried to blackmail him.” Since he works at the club, I'm sure he knows about it.
“I remember hearing about her,” he says vaguely.
“Well anyway, I met Camille at the American Cancer Society gala with Beckett, and she pretty much hated me at first sight. Apparently she found out I'm divorced and talked to my ex-husband Tim and bribed him to find some dirt on me or Beckett. When Tim took my daughter by my house to pick up her swimsuit when I wasn't there, he saw my notes and told Camille. She leaked the news to the press, knowing it would destroy Beckett and me.”
“Shut up!” Gavin says, and I can't help but smile. It's nice to have someone else in my corner. “How do you know?”
“I put two and two together when I remembered Tim had come by my house, so I confronted him about it and he admitted he'd given the information to Camille.”
“Do you want me to try to talk to Beckett for you?”
I am touched by his offer, but I know this is something I have to do myself.
“No,” I say heavily. “He needs to hear it from me, but I'm afraid he won't listen. My only chance is to convince him that I love him.” Talking to Gavin has given me an idea.
“Hey!” I say. “Maybe you can help. I need to know what a submissive would do.” I stammer slightly over the word.
“Aren't you already his submissive?” he asks, confused.
I laugh. “Not really. At least not in the way you're thinking. I've always thought of it more as kinky bedroom play. But he has definitely taught me to give some of the control I hold onto so tightly to him.”
It seems surreal to be having this conversation with someone, but I know Gavin will understand what I'm saying more than anyone else I know. “After my divorce, I was afraid of everything. I was afraid to rely on someone else or give my heart to someone, much less my independence. I was afraid to live! And then I met Beckett and little by little, he taught me to surrender all of that. He taught me how to trust and love and live again. But there's always been a piece of me that I've held back. I want to give him that piece. I want him to know that he has all of me. And the only way I know to do that in a way that I know he will understand is to completely submit to him.”
“It's more a mindset than anything, so if you're really giving yourself to him, he'll know. Just think about what he really wants from you, and then give that to him.”
Something clicks, and I know exactly what I need to do.
“Gavin, you are a genius!” I say. “Thank you. That's exactly what I needed to hear. I'm going to go over to his place tonight and try to talk to him. I'm leaving for San Diego tomorrow, so it's now or never. Wish me luck.”
There's a long silent pause.
“Um, Emma, I hate to tell you this, but he's not going to be home tonight. He's going to be at the club tonight.”
“What club?”
“
The
club, Dominic's club. The Pinnacle.”
My heart sinks. “Oh.” It's been less than twenty-four hours and he's already going to his friend's BDSM club. He's certainly not wasting any time pining over me.
“Listen, I can get you in.”
“What?”
“I work there. I'll go with you and get you in so you can talk to him. That's probably better than going over to his house anyway. At least at the club, he can't close the door on you and refuse to listen.”
He has a point, although I feel a flutter of panic at the thought of talking to Beckett in public, much less giving myself to him in the way that I know I need to if I'm ever going to convince him that I love him. But the panic I feel at the thought of losing him, or worse, him thinking I betrayed him, has me agreeing.
“Okay,” I say, taking a deep breath. “What should I wear?”
“Dominic said not to let anyone in who's not a member tonight,” the pink-haired girl at the front desk of the club says as Gavin and I arrive.
“C'mon, Shelly, it's me,” Gavin says, giving her his best sad puppy dog eyes. “I could have been working tonight instead of you and gotten her in anyway.”
Shelly laughs. “Well, I guess that's true. But I don't want to get in trouble.”
“I will take full responsibility for her being here,” Gavin assures her.
She gives me an appraising look and then says to Gavin, “Okay. It's your ass on the line. But I hate to see what Dominic's going to do to you if he doesn't know about this.”
I put my hand on Gavin's arm. “I don't want to get you into trouble, Gavin,” I say. “This is my problem, not yours.”
“Don't worry about me,” he says with a wicked grin. “Getting in trouble is half the fun here.” He winks and I can't help but smile.
Shelly pushes a button behind the reception desk and Gavin grabs my hand, pulling me through a heavy wood door into the well-kept secret that is Club Pinnacle. At first glance, it looks like a typical dance club. The lights are dim and dance music plays loudly from a sophisticated sound system. Numerous seating areas with deep leather sofas, chairs, and coffee tables surround the dance floor. It's early and not very crowded, but the people who are there mill about dressed in everything from casual street wear to leather. Several people call out to Gavin, eyeing me curiously.
“This isn't what I expected,” I yell to Gavin over the music. “It looks soâ¦.normal.”
“I know,” Gavin yells back. Leaning closer to me so we don't have to yell he adds, “Some clubs can be a little seedy, but Club Pinnacle is upscale and very discreet. Dominic keeps it that way on purpose. It's very expensive to belong here.” Grabbing my hand he says, “Let's get a drink. There's a one drink limit here, but I have a feeling you're going to need that one drink.”
I nod at him gratefully. As we approach the bar, I see Beckett casually leaning against the polished wood bar talking to his brother Griffin. My mouth goes dry at the sight of him dressed in a dark, expensive looking suit. Somehow the formality of the suit makes him look even more exotically sensual. He looks up and our eyes meet for one long minute, and the initial surprise that first registered in his eyes is quickly replaced by one of contempt. With the quick and practiced grace of a panther, he gets up and moves in front of me, blocking my way.
“I thought you were supposed to be at your parents,” he says, fixing me with his most intimidating stare.
“I leave tomorrow,” I say.
His sweeping glance takes in my short black skirt, sequined tank, and heels before settling on the slender, black leather collar I wear around my neck. The look in his eyes is unfathomable.
“Why are you here, Emmaline?” he says evenly. “To justify what you did? To apologize? It's not necessary. It was only a test, and while I'm disappointed, I'm not surprised that you failed. My dad was the one who believed you were different and wouldn't be swayed by money or publicity. You only did what I told him any other woman would do in your shoes.”
He watches my face as comprehension dawns and then adds cruelly, “You didn't really think we would entrust our true secrets to you, did you?”
I am silent for a moment, trying to process what he is saying. The seeds, the cure, the boys' adoption from South Americaâthey told me all of that just to see if I would betray their confidence? There's something about it that doesn't make sense. I look into Beckett's dark eyes and I remember the look in them when he told me about his childhood, about sneaking the sweet, white fruit of the paw paw tree to his brother, and I know with a bone deep certainty that everything he told me was true. I had glimpsed his very soul when he told me that, and it breaks my heart that I have hurt him so much by betraying him after he trusted me that he is denying that it happened.
Taking a deep breath I say, “I've come to make amends for what I did.”
That takes him aback. He looks at me carefully. “Here? Do you know what making amends means in the BDSM community?”
“Um, not exactly,” I say, looking down at my hands.
“Punishment, Emma,” he says. “It means punishment. Is that what you want?”
I look at him desperately, the tears threatening to spill down my cheeks. I will do anything to prove to him that my love for him is real, that he can trust me with the secrets of his heart.
“Yes,” I say. “If it will resolve what's between us.”
“Oh, it will definitely resolve what's between us,” he says grimly. He glances at Griffin and a look passes between them. Griffin nods as if they have had an entire conversation in that single glance.
“Take care of it,” Griffin says. “I'll entertain your guest while you'reâ¦.otherwise occupied.”
His guest? I follow Beckett's gaze to the bar, where Camille Penworth is sitting next to two muscular looking men in tight t-shirts and jeans. Unlike most of the other women in the club, she isn't wearing either black or leather. In a tailored red suit, she looks like she's about to attend a board meeting instead of a kink club. Our eyes meet and she smirks at me.
Stunned and hurt, I look away.
“You don't have to do this,” Beckett says softly, and as I look at him the memories of the last few weeks wash over me. I remember the fearful girl I used to be who thought that if she just kept a tight enough grip on her heart and kept everything tightly under her control, it would all be okay. Except it wasn't. I wasn't okay until Beckett slowly taught me to let go and to feel again. Even though the pain of this moment is killing me, I wouldn't change feeling alive for the numbness that had been my life before I met Beckett, even if it means heartache. I have to do this. For me and for Beckett.
“I do,” I say with a resolute tilt to my chin.
With a heavy sigh, Beckett turns to Gavin. “Get me some wrist cuffs.”
Gavin turns and gasps at the arrival of a tall, attractive man with a black goatee and kind brown eyes. “And who have we here?” the man asks in a cultured voice, looking questioningly between Gavin and Beckett, even as he holds out a pair of leather wrist cuffs to Beckett along with a long leather cord.