Sweet Salvation (11 page)

Jared accelerated out of a sharp curve as he pushed his new SUV a few miles over the speed limit along Lake Shore Drive. The morning hadn’t started quite as he’d planned and they were running late meeting Marc at the marina. To his right, the sun reflected off the water of Lake St. Clair; on his left were the multi-million-dollar lake view mansions. The late spring day was clear and warm, with temperatures predicted to be in the mid-eighties and with a light wind blowing; the conditions were perfect for sailing. He glanced over at Stacy who was watching the glittering water through her window. When he told her about the outing, she had beamed excitedly and talked of practically nothing else since. She was easy to please that way, embracing new experiences head on.

Dating for three months now, things were moving along smoothly, except Jared had begun to suspect that Stacy was holding back a part of herself. She was loving and giving, but restrained when it came to talking about her loss. Then it was like pulling teeth. The other odd thing was that she didn’t like to spend the night. She’d stay late, sometimes until two or three in the morning, but always insisted on leaving. To get home to her cat, she always said. He didn’t buy it. When he stayed at her place, she was restless, often getting up out of bed after he’d fallen asleep. He’d found her reading late at night on several occasions and dragged her back to bed.

This morning, he’d swung by to pick her up for their day on the lake. Arriving a few minutes early, he helped himself to a cup of the coffee that she’d brewed just for him. Reaching for the milk, he poured a liberal amount into the strong brew; she used a heavy hand with the scoop. As he leaned against the counter taking a sip, he spotted several prescription bags on the counter.

His doctor’s curiosity had him picking them up. Immediately, he frowned. Setting down his cup, he walked to her bedroom where she was packing a large tote with sunscreen, a towel, her Kindle, and a floppy brimmed hat.

“I’m all set.”

“Stacy, what are these?”

She turned to him and froze. The smile fading so quickly from her face, it was like a cloud covering the sun and blocking its warmth and brightness.

“My prescriptions, I had them refilled last night. Nothing important.”

“I know what alprazolam is for, Stacy, as well as the Ambien and the antidepressant. What’s going on?”

“I’d rather not get into it. Don’t we have to go?”

“We have time.”

“No, we don’t. I need to stop by the store on the way, so if we don’t go now we’ll be late.”

“Quit stalling and answer my question.” His tone was firm and uncompromising.

“Okay, I’ve been having trouble sleeping, you know that.”

“That explains one of them. What about the Xanax and Zoloft?”

“Those are generics, so if you know their brand names, you know what they’re for, Jared. Why are you asking?” Her tone was clipped and not her usually sweet or playful tone.

“Don’t get snippy. I care about you, honey. I’d like to help you deal with whatever this is.”

“Whatever this is has been going on for well before I met you, so I have it under control.”

“I don’t think so. If it was, you wouldn’t be so defensive.”

“Defensive? Ooh, that really gets my goose. You were the one snooping around my kitchen.”

“I wasn’t snooping. They were lying on the counter in the open.”

“And you couldn’t help but read the labels. You’re my boyfriend, Jared, not my doctor. I already have one of those so I’d appreciate it if you’d back off.”

Livid, Jared tossed the bags on her bed and walked out of her room before he said something he’d regret. He stalked across her small apartment, coming to a stop before the picture window in the living room. He looked out, unseeing. His mind trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together. The only physical sign he’d seen was her apparent insomnia, but that was a common problem. Some people just didn’t sleep and struggled with it their entire lives. The short-acting benzodiazepine, Xanax, was highly addictive and usually treated some underlying reason for anxiety on a short term. She said she’d been having problems long before him. This was not short-term use. The antidepressant was also a puzzle because he’d seen no signs of that either. What the hell was up with her?

“Maybe you should go without me. I don’t feel like it anymore,” she said.

“No, we promised Marc. He’s bringing the new girl he’s been seeing, remember?”

“Surely they won’t mind if I’m not there. They’d probably rather be alone,” she reasoned.

“She’s never been sailing and it takes two for his boat.”

“Again, if you go and I’m not there, it’s not a problem.”

“It is for me. You are going.” He turned to watch her reaction to his directive. She wasn’t pleased. “Get your bag. We’ll discuss all this later when I’m not so angry.”

“Why are you angry? I’m not prying into your personal life.”

“I thought we were close enough to share in each other’s personal life. I guess I was wrong, but that is something we’ll definitely get to work on right away. Now go get your bag. I won’t ask again.”

“You won’t have to, you arrogant jerk, because I’m staying home. You can do whatever. Go boating or not. Better yet, go jump in the lake. I don’t really care what you do, as long as you don’t do it here or with me. Lock the door on your way out.” Whirling on her heel, she walked away. The slamming of her bedroom door her final message, or so she thought.

He followed, after counting slowly to ten. Opening her door, he found her by the window in a similar pensive pose as he’d taken. Her back was rigid with tension.

“Please leave.”

“No. You’re not going to push me away. You are going to talk to me about all this like an adult, not the child who has been pouting and storming around for the last ten minutes.”

“Fuck you, Jared. Get out.”

“If that’s how you want to play things, Stacy Lynn. So be it.” He walked over, pulled out the bench to her dresser and had a seat. With little effort, he had her over his lap the next minute. A thoroughly shocked Stacy pushed at his thighs, wiggling as she tried to get up, but he clamped an arm around her hips, keeping her firmly in place.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re acting like a brat, which is usually a cry for attention. So, I’m giving it to you.”

“I’m mad at you, Jared. I don’t want a spanking.”

“That is no surprise. Until now, you’ve had what I call a sexy spanking. Fun, in the heat of passion, it warms you up a bit, enough to make you hot. This is going to be quite a different kind of spanking than you’re used to. The only thing about this that will be hot when I’m done is my hand and your butt. I promise.” As he spoke, he had reached underneath her and unbuttoned her shorts, which now lay in a twist around her knees. Her panties soon followed and did a good job of restraining her flailing legs.

As soon as she was bare, he smacked her ass twice, loud stinging swats that stung his hand. She stiffened on an affronted wail.

“Jared, that hurts!”

“Of course it does. I’m not fooling around, little girl. Your attitude this morning has been unacceptable and your language offensive. I don’t talk to you that way and expect the same courtesy.”

His hand began a steady pattern of open-palmed smacks landing sharply on alternating cheeks, repeatedly, as he spoke. “I remember us talking about being open and honest early on, Stacy. Have you forgotten? A mental health problem is not something you keep from me. It hurts that you don’t trust me enough to let me in.”

When he heard a sob, he knew he was finally getting through. He was spanking her hard, but tolerably so or his hand would be more than warm.

“Jared, please, that’s enough.”

“I don’t think so. I’ll know when it’s enough.” It was her first real spanking from him, probably her first one ever. He knew that and planned to go easy. He also knew that if he didn’t break through the barrier she had erected, once this spanking was done, she would rebuild her shields, strengthening her defenses so that next time it would be even harder to penetrate and he’d have to up his game. So he continued. Loud smacks of skin against skin mixed with sniffles and pleas for him to stop. When she put her hand back to protect herself, he knew she was nearing her limit, and paused to give her a break.

He quietly rubbed her warm pink bottom, allowing her time to reflect upon her words, behavior, and the consequences she had earned. As he rubbed, he let his fingertips test a very different response. He traced along the seam of her lips and found her liquid heat. She was soaked, but he’d suspected she would be. During sex, a spanking ramped her up fast, the erotic spanking something both of them found pleasant. As a punishment, other elements came into play besides the exposure of vulnerable areas and his hand upon her bare skin. There was also a touch of shame, a good dose of submission, a feeling of surrender to authority, and of course, the loss of control. Beyond correction of unwanted behavior, which was its intent, a punishment spanking—if done correctly—could be cathartic, which is what he was striving for now.

“Jared, please. I’m sorry.”

He stopped, because she was close. “What are you sorry for, sweetheart? Can you tell me?”

“I used a very nasty word. I never do that.” Her voice was shaky and broken as her body shuddered for breath. He continued to rub with one hand while stroking his hand up and down her spine, soothing and encouraging at the same time.

“I was bitchy and rude when you were only concerned about me.”

“Anything else?”

She hesitated. He could feel her emotions swirling around her like a whirlwind. She still wasn’t ready. Close, but not all the way there yet.

His hand fell again.

“Jared?”

“Open and honest, Stacy, the lesson continues until you understand what that means.” He expanded his target area to her upper thighs which were still pale and untouched. Quick stinging slaps fell left and right, bringing her right back to where they left off.

“I was hiding my nightmares, Jared!” she cried desperately as she broke down; finally she’d let him in. “I can’t sleep because of the nightmares. I didn’t want you to know and think I was—” She stopped there, choking on her sobs.

He pulled her up and sat her on his lap, holding her close while rocking her gently. “It’s okay, baby. You can tell me anything. I love you, Stacy, and there is nothing we can’t handle together.”

Her face was buried in his neck and her voice was so muffled he barely made it out. “I’ve had them since my parents died. They’re horrible and frightening and sometimes I get…” Her voice trailed off to a whisper. This he couldn’t make out.

“Sometimes you get what?”

“Panic attacks.” She said this in a hushed tone, obviously finding this a terrible flaw.

It made sense and explained why she didn’t want to stay at his house. When he stayed with her, she either got up, wandering around restlessly all night or slept like the dead. In the latter situation, she’d undoubtedly taken an Ambien. His sweet girl was tormented and it hurt his heart terribly to know she was in so much emotional pain.

“…And flashbacks.”

“To the funeral?”

“No, to when they made me—” Her throat clogged with unshed tears, making her voice oddly raspy. Maybe it was the emotion, but she didn’t sound like herself when she continued hoarsely. “They couldn’t find any identification on my dad. I don’t know why, they rolled three times, so maybe it was thrown clear or stuck somewhere in the mangled metal. But I had to identify his body.” She shook her head as if to free herself from the unpleasant thought. “They had him at the morgue. I had to see him like that—on a cold, metal tray.”

Her voice had risen in pitch, becoming shrill and reedy thin. Jared was afraid the awful memories flooding her mind would trigger an attack. “Honey, breathe. It’s okay. Clear your mind and breathe right now.” But she was stuck in the past and went on. Her words clawed at his gut.

“He was in a cooler. He hated small places. It was so awful. And there was blood everywhere,” her voice broke before she finished, “they hadn’t even tried to clean him up.”

Clasping the back of her head, he pressed his lips to her forehead and rocked with her. “Baby, stop, please come back to me. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” He held her for a long time, until her breathing slowed to normal and the steel went out of her spine. Finally, his clinical side couldn’t be suppressed any longer. He needed to know what she had done in terms of treatment to help her move forward.

“Are you seeing a counselor?”

She nodded.

“Is it helping?”

A head shake was her answer.

“But the medication does?”

She sat up, pushing away from his chest, wiping her face with her hands. “It helps but I hate it. It makes me feel drugged or dopey. I just stare off into space. You know like the porch lights are on but no one is at home. The Ambien is the worst. It wipes me out for at least eight hours and I’m afraid of it.”

“How so?”

“You’ve heard the stories of people sleepwalking and sleep driving, right? On nights where I’ve taken it, I’ve found things out of place the next morning. Remember the time we found the dirt from my plants all over the floor in the kitchen?”

“I remember.”

“I blamed it on Sheba, but it was me. I found dirt under my fingernails. I have no idea what I was doing digging in the dirt. Another time I found the stove on. I got scared so I stopped taking them afraid I’d leave the apartment or heaven forbid, get in my car.”

“Why didn’t you tell me, Stacy? I’m a doctor, I would have understood.”

“I was afraid.”

“Of what?”

“That you’d think I was broken, or too much work. I didn’t want to lose you too, Jared.” Her whispered words was another dagger to his gut. She was afraid that, like her parents, he’d leave her too.

“You won’t lose me, ever. I love you and want to be with you always.”

“Like in forever?”

“Absolutely.”

She nodded, still wiping away tears.

“I’d like to help you with this, Stacy, but you can’t hide from me anymore.” He cupped her cheek and waited until she met his eyes. “Promise you won’t keep something so important from me again.”