Page 46 of Twisted Bonds
He refused to let me drive my own car, pleading with me to stay with him, and we could get my car tomorrow. I didn't have the heart to say no. How could I? This is Beau…my Beau.My emotions are all over the place where my love life is concerned. I'm in love with two men—a father and a son—how can this ever end well?
"No. Your father told me that's where you moved our stuff to. I couldn't bring myself to go over there and see the life we had started together," I tell him as I stare out the passenger window.
"Hey," Beau's voice is soft and gentle as he takes my hand in his and squeezes it. "Don't cry, Ry. I can't stand to see those beautiful eyes fill with tears."
I hadn't even realized I had been, so I quickly swipe them away and then smile at him. "It's just been so hard. Thinking you were out there somewhere, possibly living your life with someone else, it was the worst feeling, but I didn't hate you because I didn't blame you for not wanting to be with someone who was ruined. Now, hearing that you were held in a basement for almost 2 years, all while I was thinking this of you, just makes me feel like the shittiest person."
"Ryan, you couldn't have known. My uncle made it hard for you to find out what had really happened to me." He tries soothing me, but it isn't working.
Shaking my head vehemently, I argue the fact. "That's no excuse, Beau. I should haveknownyou! Known that you would have never left like that. This is what I do, for Christ's sake! I find people, and I bring them home. I should have known—I should have sensed that something was wrong!"
Beau pulls his truck over and unbuckles my belt. Reaching over, he grabs me and pulls me across the center until I'm on his lap. I try to move back to my seat, but he holds firm.
"Will you just sit here and listen to what I have to say?" he asks sternly.
"I can sit in the seat, Beau. I don't have to be on your lap…"
"What? You used to love sitting on my lap." His mouth kicks up to one side. "And talking about the first thing that pops up."
A little chuckle slips out at his cocky little tease, but I'm quick to get it under control. "A lot has changed, Beau…"
He takes my chin and makes me gaze into those familiar green eyes. "Has your love for me changed?"
I think hard on this. I've just professed my love for Bain, his father, and I wasn't lying. I've genuinely fallen for his father, but my love and passion for Beau has never wavered. I will love this man until the day I die or the world ends, whichever may come first.
I shake my head and reply, "No. That will never happen…"
"But you love him, don't you? You love my—father?"
Our eyes remain locked, and I nod. "Yes, it just happened. Bain's been there for me this whole time; his unwavering support has held me together. We have been each other's rock for so long that the love just—grew. I've never lied to him, though. He knows that you will always be the love of my life."
"Does this support have anything to do with a whip?" he asks, but I see no judgment in his eyes.
"Yes. That's a part of it. You need to understand one thing, Beau. When we met, I numbed all my pain through drugs and alcohol, and before that, it was cutting. Then, you helped me get clean, and you chased the pain away. Without you, I was spiraling. One night, I went up to my old room to grab my stash of razors…"
"Please tellme you didn't…"
"Let me finish, please," I say softly. When I know he will remain quiet, I say, "I found your father upstairs in the playroom. He was on his knees, whipping himself. Your father was dealing with his own demons." My eyes fixate on a tiny beauty mark just to the left of Beau's lips before saying, "Our demons learned how to play well in the darkness together. Bain had the remedy I needed, and I stepped in to help him with what he needed."
"A submissive," Beau's face screws up just slightly, pulling me back from those earlier days.
I give him a small smile. "Your father deals with pain in his own way. He needs to dominate, but only because he feels as though he's let all his loved ones down, that he was too weak to keep them all safe. He never kissed any of his submissives because those only belonged to your mother. Then he married my mother, and he didn't kiss her until he proposed to her. Bain never once kissed me, even when I tried kissing him. It wasn't until recently that he kissed me for the first time."
"What are you getting at Ry?" Beau asks.
"All I'm saying is that he dominated because it helped him feel strong, like he was in full control. He lost his wife because he couldn't keep her safe. Then, by trying to keep us apart because he thought it was safer for us, you lost me, and then he lost you. Yes, I came back, but then he lost my mother." I find that my fingers are playing with the hem on his shirt sleeve, and I stop. "Anyway, I preferred to have your father be the one to wield the whip over having some stranger do it, and your father didn't want to bring any women into his life. It was a win-win for both of us."
Beau stares at me, and I can see the look he's giving me changing into an apologetic one. "I'm sorry I went looking for answers at my uncle's house. Had I stayed away, I would have been here for you when your mother died."
"Why did you leave?" It's a question that's been gnawing at me, and since Bain couldn't answer me, I thought it would go unanswered.
"I left to go find answers. My father and I had a fight the night before I left, and a few things he said to me got me thinking, and I did a little research. I was getting threats from the brothers that if I didn't stay away, you would be passed around to their men before you were shipped off overseas, and I couldn't risk it. So, I decided to find answers myself, hoping that whatever I found—if I found anything—would help get you back home." He lifts his hand and cups my left cheek. "I never dreamed I would find myself in a situation like I did. My uncle wasn't right in the head."
I turn my face more, thinking of kissing his palm out of habit, but I catch myself and close my eyes. I can smell his cologne, but it isn't the scent of my Beau. His scent has changed, and I'm unsure what to make of it.
"Kiss me, Ryan," Beau says, his voice raw with an emotional need that makes me want to do just that, but I don't.
"Beau, I…" It's not that I don't want to, but not too long ago, I was kissing his father, amongst other things. Surely, he wouldn't want it if he knew.
