Unorthodox Therapy (37 page)

Lina, my mentor and benefactor, the woman of my dreams, was crying and bleeding. Her distress was so painful to watch I wanted to rip out the insides of the person who did it to her. Me. How could I do that? A cold sweat had been running down my body the entire time but I hadn't noticed due to my manic frenzy. My hands were shaking in rough tremors as I came down.

The moment I untied Lina's wrists and helped her get up, she yelled with hatred.

“Keep your hands off me. Don't ever touch me again!”

Lina crawled away from me like a beaten animal running away from her abusive master. Abuse... That was what I’d done to her. The guilt was like a fist beating me black and blue. The events from the evening rolled like a film and made my actions even more despicable. The anger, the horrible monster I’d been feeding for months… and I let its reins slip through my fingers.

There was no excuse.

Allie had always told not to even think of dominating someone when I was affected. Why didn't I listen better?

Lina was hugging herself and staring at me with open disgust. Her accusing eyes made the knife in my wound sink even deeper. I crouched next to her and tried to bring her closer to me but she shoved me away.

“N-never again, you hear me? Why did you do this? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Lina, I...”

“I'd come to say I was sorry, you fucking dick.” Her voice was drowning with tears but the power of its wrath whipped me. “I wanted to beg you to forgive me, to tell you you were right about everything, that I was jealous and irrational, but no, you had to show me what a man you were. I... I wanted to start over. Why didn't you listen?”

What could I possibly say? Tell her I wasn't the man I thought I was? How I failed both myself and her by spilling my collected poison?

“I... I hurt you.” She flinched as I tried to stroke her face and glared at me. “Lina, I'm so sorry. I never should have punished you when I was so mad. Please...”

“I want to leave.” Lina dug her nails into her shoulder and moved as far from me as she could. “It’s over, Thomas. Let me go now and I won't press charges.”

“Of course I'll let you go, but please, listen.”

“No,” she hissed with hatred and shook her head. “Did you even listen to me when I was begging? Let's... let's just get this over with.”

“Let me at least drive you back to your place. You're too upset to make it back on your own.”

“I'd rather walk naked back to Mission Bay than spend another minute with you. Do you fucking hear me?” When I tried to reach for her shoulder, she slapped me hard and her long nails left red marks on my cheek.

“I know you're upset but at least allow me to make sure you get home. I'll give you one of my coats and we'll call you a cab. Please...” My despair was in stark contrast to the sinister sadism from only minutes ago.

Lina tried to stop her body’s convulsions and tears. The repulsion in her gaze was killing me, but the least I could do was give her a dignified way to leave.

“I'll take the coat,” she uttered. “But no one will see me like this. I'll take my car and not come back to this nuthouse ever again.”

She was adamant, and I’d already screwed up too much to try and force my decisions on her. All I could hope was that she wouldn't end up hurting herself. While we walked out of the dungeon, she refused to let me help her and just leaned against the wall.

“Just text me when you get home, please. You have every right to be mad at me, but I really want to make sure you're safe.”

Lina didn't say a word in response. She just stared ahead with a catatonic gaze. I wasn't sure she even comprehended my words. The sight of her in this state added to my guilt. I'd accept it if she never spoke to me again. I deserved it, as badly as it would hurt, but it would haunt me until the end of my days if I'd broken her spirit.

She accepted my coat and walked away into the night to her car without another word, without a goodbye or even a sign we'd continue the conversation later. The moment I heard the roar of her engine, my defenses fell apart and I buried head in my palms.

Lina wouldn't forgive me. I wasn't sure I could forgive myself. The man I'd turned into while torturing her... was that my real, suppressed identity? The thought of being such an insensitive, selfish creature who’d unleash his wrath so easily chilled me to the bone.

For the first time in so many years, my dominant urges seemed monstrous.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Lina

I went through all seven stages of grief after the nightmare with Thomas, but the predominant phase was that of denial. How could it have happened to me? I suspected he was not happy with our relationship but I never thought my kind, sweet Thomas could be capable of such brutal abuse.

Shortly after going back to my apartment, I collapsed on the bed and burst into tears without stopping. The feelings I'd been harboring for him in secret wouldn’t die even after all the pain. His verbal degradation was even worse than the physical pain. All the ugly words he’d said brought me back to a faintly familiar experience. He knew my history and yet he still unleashed his contempt on me.

I really wished I'd never set foot in his house. Thomas gave me a lot. He taught me how to experience pain and pleasure, how to release my secret self and be free of shame. In exchange, he took everything away from me with a single act of violence.

Perhaps it was for the best that I learned what he was really like before we took the next step and committed. His anger issues ran deep and the polite, nice personality was just an upper layer hiding a lot of ugliness beneath its surface. The memory of the burning fury in Thomas's eyes and his lack of care was burnt too deep. I doubted I would ever recover from the shock. The worst thing was some primal part of me enjoyed the pain and humiliation, but even my most shameful fantasies didn't include being scared to death.

To his credit, Thomas did respect my safeword and was crestfallen after my emotional meltdown. He reverted to a little boy woken up from a nightmare. Did he really suffer from schizophrenia? Because the person who met me at the door was not the man I’d grown to know and be infatuated with. If that was his true personality, he'd been masterful in deceiving everyone.

Either way, there was no excuse for his actions. As regretful as he appeared, the trust and bond we'd been forming were tainted now.

What was I supposed to do about our professional situation? I told him I wouldn't press charges and intended to keep my word. Thomas had hurt me on a physical and emotional level but I didn't want to ruin his life or expose my intimate secrets. That was not the kind of publicity I wanted for ChaosTech Solutions. It would be best to solve it all peacefully but right then, the thought of being in the same room as him was too painful. Also, he was really great at his job. If I let him go quietly it would raise too many questions and rumors.

That was another reason why I should have rejected him from the start. It was too late to ask myself ‘what if?’. The damage was done, and it was up to me to limit it.

I spent a long night crying, agonizing and trembling at the thought of going back to work. The best course of action was not to make any major decisions while I was under duress. The solution would come to me. At some point, I'd have to talk to Thomas, as much as the idea scared me. Maybe he would have the decency to resign quietly, using the excuse he had received a much better job offer.

In the morning, my body craved rest but it wasn’t the right time to slow down. There was nothing to be gained by hiding in the cave of convenience or calling in sick, even if all I wanted was to lie down, feel sorry for myself and drink myself into oblivion. In the end, I took a long bath, put on one of my best suits and applied perfect makeup to cover the black circles under my eyes. Then I went to work as if nothing had happened. The show had to go on.

No one would notice the tremors in my hands while I was drinking coffee or signing a document. At least, I hoped so.

It was easy to avoid Thomas for the next few days. There was always enough work to fill my time. None of the projects his department was working on demanded a face-to-face. Katie told me he had come to ask for a meeting a few times but my assistant had not let him get close to the door. She didn’t know anything. I’d merely told her I was busy with a new project and didn’t want to be bothered.

I really missed him, and that was the most fucked up thing of all. The memories of what we had were too sweet in spite of my traumatic encounter with his violent self. I couldn't relate his maniacal behavior and painful insecurity to the man who had dominated me into ecstasy so many times. It was as if they were two different men.

Those were the roughest, loneliest days during which I constantly replayed our last months. I was going through the motions but my mind and heart were in a totally different place. There was no one to talk to, either. If my friends learned of what had happened, they'd send me to a hotline for abused women. It was difficult to explain the dynamics of what happened between us during the entire course of our relationship. ‘Abuse’ was too convenient and couldn't cover the nuances of our experience together.

For the first time in my life, I thought of visiting a psychologist. I’d die of shame while recalling my experience and sharing it with a perfect stranger, but someone else's insight could be valuable.

It was a Friday evening two weeks after our encounter when Thomas got to me while I was alone. Katie had already left her work station. She'd been badgering me to go out for drinks with her, saying I looked too depressed and could use a night out. It was tempting but I was afraid alcohol would untie my tongue. I wasn't ready to spill my guts in front of someone from the company. A cunning girl like her probably suspected there had been something between Thomas and me. There was no point in making it worse.

The night sky was laced with clouds and slowly turning darker. The ice in my whiskey glass clattered as my fingers trembled. I tried to enjoy the beauty of the landscape and the death of the sun casting its crimson rays across the sphere. The world was so peaceful but the serenity intensified the hurricane of my feelings. I dreamed of a classic storm, torrential rain and thunder to match my apprehension that had turned into a constant companion during my lonely evenings.

I often couldn't bear to go home. Every time, I ended up feeling like the walls were closing in on me. It was easier to lie down on the couch in my office for a few hours before I immersed myself in a new workload. Anything to keep my mind from straying.

The quiet sound of the door opening almost made me jump from my seat and spill my drink. My horror came back in full force, suffocating and sweaty. I swallowed hard and turned the chair around to face Thomas. He was standing at the threshold and his weary expression matched mine like a mirror image. I felt my throat tightening. When I finally spoke out loud, my voice sounded as if it came from beneath the earth.

“Please, leave right now. I can't deal with you at the moment.”

Why was I whispering? I should have screamed, yelled at him, demanded he get the fuck away from me and never come back. All my strength had been used in dealing with daily life. The sight of him appeased the anger raging inside me. Thomas looked like he had been through the grinder. His skin was wax pale and the whites of his eyes had gone almost entirely red. The dark circles beneath made him look even more like a zombie.

The last two weeks couldn't have been easy on him. That didn't mean he was remorseful for his actions, though. The paranoia of knowing I could destroy him by pressing charges must have been a huge source of stress.

Thomas closed the door behind him and raised his hands as I attempted to say something more.

“Lina, look, I don't have any right to be here. I never gave you a chance to speak when I should have. I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for how I lost control. It would probably be the right thing to do to walk away before I hurt you more.”

I grabbed a pen from my desk and squeezed it tight, still avoiding his eyes.

“But I can't handle leaving things this way. I want to at least make peace with you. So, please, will you listen to me before you decide? If you're still firm in your decision when I'm done, I'll never bother you again. You'll have my resignation tomorrow morning. I'll never try to contact you again.” He forced those last words out with visible effort, his fists clenched and eyes averted.

Suddenly it became hard to breathe. What Thomas offered would probably be the best for both of us, but the thought of him completely gone from my life was even scarier than him staying. Was this battered woman syndrome? Was I getting so accustomed to his abuse I was starting to make excuses for him? Cold sweat broke out on my forehead and maddening doubts pierced my brain like arrows.

I raised myself from the chair and headed for the panoramic window with my hands clenched firmly behind my back. It would have been too taxing to look at him right then but he was right. We both needed closure.

“I'm listening.”

Thomas sighed with obvious relief and I heard him stepping closer to me. I didn’t feel as stressed as I was supposed to in this situation, but the fear was still there, lurking in the pit of my stomach.

“How have you been? I tried to check if you were okay, but–”