Page 40 of Brave
“Look at me,” he commanded, forcing himself to smother the pity and exude the sternness she needed.
Wilting, she reluctantly met his frowning glare.
“Where’s your notebook?”
She swallowed. “In my backpack.”
“New line,” he decided. “You will write one thousand times, ‘I do not deserve to get hit, and I will never lie to Sir if it happens again’. That’s the first part of your punishment. Put your hands on your head,” he said, as her fingers began their worried picking at every weak fingernail she could find.
Raising her arms, she laced her fingers on top of her head. Her breathing was picking up again. Not hard in a way that put her back in danger of hyperventilating again, but fast and shallow the way it did when she knew she was in trouble. “I’m sorry.”
“So am I,” he softly replied. “Because this is the fifth time you’ve lied to me—”
“But I really did fall.”
“Helped by the person who knocked you down. Don’t split hairs with me, honey. You told me you fell so you wouldn’t have to say you were hit. That kind of omission is as good as a lie, and I want it to be the last time. For that reason, I am going to cane you. Five strokes, one for every lie you’ve told me. There will be no warm up, and it will not be easy to take.”
She stopped breathing altogether. Silent and staring, she waited for him to add that he was cutting all ties with her. He could see it in her eyes, the weighted certainty of that fear growing heavier on her shoulders as she retreated into herself.
“Questions?” he asked. “Comments, concerns?”
She shook her head.
He took a deep breath, forcing disappointment aside and replacing it with unyielding severity instead. “Six lies. Now you’ve got six strokes of the cane coming. How long do you want to physically be unable to sit down? Or maybe you think I’m kidding when I say I won’t be going easy on you?”
A soft huff of breath was all the expression she gave her mounting frustrations. “I don’t underst—”
He cut her off. “Are you scared right now?”
“Yes!”
“Of what?” he demanded.
“I don’t under—”
“Seven lies,” he snapped. “Seven cane strokes.”
She huffed again, turning her face away to case her glare out the opposite window. It was as close as he’d yet seen her come to expressing irritation at something he’d done. If he weren’t so upset in his own right, he’d have counted this entire argument as good emotional progress on her part. But it wasn’t good. It wasn’t progress. He wanted to trust her, damn it!
Catching her chin, fingers digging in, he forced her to give him the full brunt of that look directly. “Look at your Sir, not away.”
Whipping her hands off her head, loud as a gunshot, she slapped her palms against her thighs. If it stung, it wasn’t hard enough to make her flinch. “I don’t know what you want me to say!”
He didn’t flinch either. Getting right in her face, he belted out in his drill sergeant best, “What the hell do you have to be scared of, girl?”
Puppy snapped. Thrusting right back into his face now too, she yelled back, “Get rid of me already!” Bursting into tears, she slapped her hands over her face, twisting away in a belated attempt to hide, but he wasn’t about to let her. He pried her hands away, forcing her to retain eye contact even as she broke down, weeping, “Just get rid of me. I’m not worth this. Why haven’t you left yet?”
Letting go of her wrists, he cupped her face between his hands. His thumbs caught her tears, gently caressing them into her skin. “Because you need me,” he softly told her, but it was more than that and he knew it. “Because I’m the kind of Dom who needs to be needed. Because I don’t view people as things to be rid of. Because you’re worth more than you know. And most importantly, because I’m not that guy.”
Hitching a shaky breath, she quavered, “Maybe he’s the only kind of guy I’m good for.”
“Oh, baby girl.” He shook his head, once more caressing away the fresh tears still trickling from her cheeks. “That’s the kind of lie we skip straight to ten for.”
Sniffling, she surprised him when she nodded. “When are you going to do it?”
“I’m going to go in and grab your backpack, and a couple things so you can spend the night at my house. Don’t worry,” he said before she could do more than sniffle.
“Sex is off the table,” she said with him.
