Page 42 of Brave
“What the hell are you doing?” he heard himself say before he could stop it.
The older woman was definitely Puppy’s mother. There was nothing but family resemblance in the hurt that flashed through her eyes. “The best I can,” she replied, her lower voice quavering.
“This?” Carlson flung out his arm, inadvertently smacking the back of his hand on several shirts, rattling the plastic hangers. “This is the best you could do? You do realize she’s not a kid anymore, right? She doesn’t want you to cut the crust off her sandwiches, and she sure as hell doesn’t want this.”
Grabbing a handful of unicorns, cartoon kittens and crap, he yanked them from the closet and threw them on the bed.”
“How do you know what my daughter wants?” the woman spat back.
“Because if she did want it, she wouldn’t be out in my car desperate to get out of here.” It was the wrong thing to say, and later he would regret it, but as angry as he was, he couldn’t stop himself from adding, “Lady, your best isn’t anywhere near good enough.”
She leapt back out of the doorway, quickly getting out of his way when he came stalking through it. Taking only her backpack, he marched to the kitchen. He took the cellphone he recognized, along with the charger and cord it was on.
“You’ve got no right!” Puppy’s mother chased him as far as the front door. “Don’t take her from me! You can’t! You—”
He rounded on her, storming back up the walkway so nothing he said would be heard as far as the car. It stopped him, however, when she not only jumped back into the house, but grabbed the front door and slammed it shut.
The look on her face right before she vanished was Puppy at her most terrified, the very first day they’d met.
Frozen with one foot on the cement porch step, Carlson stared at the door. “What the hell did that man do to you all?”
The door did not open again and no one answered him back.
Shaking his head, Carlson shoved back off the porch. Returning to his car, he got in, set Puppy’s pack in her lap, and then he got them both the hell out of there.
Chapter 12
“Bathroom?” he asked, unlocking his door and letting her back into the quiet darkness of his house. He had a nice home. She’d been too nervous the last time she was here to pay much attention, but it really was nice.
The door opened on a massive rock wall that obstructed the view of anyone not allowed access beyond the threshold, but on the other side was a massive fireplace, a spacious open concept living room with glossy black hardwood floors that bled beautifully into both the dining room and the kitchen. Granite countertops with white rocks caught the kitchen lights and sparkled. Everything was tidy. Everything was clean. It was all so warm and inviting. From the moment she stepped in behind him, holding onto her myriad fears became a whole lot harder than simply allowing them to seep away.
“Bathroom?” he asked again, shutting and locking the door behind him.
She nodded and, although she already knew where it was, he still pointed to the small guest room down the hall.
“Hey,” he called, as she headed toward it. “No panic attacks allowed. Remember, nothing happens until you’re ready.”
Her chest tightened and yet, her stomach warmed, spreading that now familiar longing all through her. Nodding, she closed the door.
For the longest time, she stood there, staring first at the sink and then, reluctantly, at her own reflection in the mirror. She tried to see something positive in the woman staring back at her. That her perspective must be skewed was all she could think of. She wasn’t lovely, not by any means, but she thought she might be pretty. And yet, probably not, since sex was always off the table.
She didn’t think she was ugly. Surely Ethen would have made her Piggy if she were. Or maybe Lizard. Or Bossy the Cow, or something equally awful.
She turned from the mirror, shutting all that out. It was starting to tickle her anxieties and really, when it came to cruelty, there was no telling what Ethen would have done if he thought it might hurt her.
Carlson was far from that kind of man, but that didn’t mean she could trust what he said. She wanted to, especially when he was being reassuring. He was good at reassuring. And yet, she had learned a long time ago that words were easy. Actions spoke louder and were far more honest. So far, all Carlson’s actions did was leave her feeling safe, cared for, and confused.
Why didn’t he want her?
The last time she’d been here, in the intimacy of his office, with his fingers thrusting up inside her and the wand humming relentlessly against her needy clit, she could have sworn she’d seen hunger in the way he’d watched her. He’d had an erection. She was sure of it, and yet, once she’d come, instead of taking his own satisfaction from her more than willing body, he’d walked her back out to the table and continued going through the negotiation contract as if nothing else had happened.
He’d punished her with lines then. Tonight’s punishment would be so much worse.
Except first she would have to ask for it, and she already knew he was going to be angry with her when she did. Remember how we got to ten, he’d said, because she was going to have to count them off. But today had been nothing but one nerve-rattled rollercoaster after another. She remembered the fight with Pony, and then Ethen. She remembered getting slapped. She remembered the on-again, off-again fighting that had finally exploded from verbal to physical the second Pony realized who had pulled into their driveway and Puppy bolted for the door. She remembered shouting and crying and fighting just to get air into her too-tight chest, but for the life of her, she couldn’t recall what she’d said that made him keep on counting.
At some point tonight, she was going to have to admit as much and when she did, he would be so… Puppy stopped. Staring at the tile floor, she hugged her backpack and, in particular, the notebook he had given her. Would he be angry with her?
Two brisk taps at the closed door startled her. “Are we having a problem?” Carlson asked.
