Page 19 of His to Explore
“Not really?” I bite out.
She shrugs. “He would grab the back of my neck, or my wrist, when he was really angry. Left some bruises. But it’s not like he hit me or anything.”
I fucking hate the way she’s minimizing this. The asshole leftbruiseson her.
“Mostly it was mental stuff,” she goes on, apparently not realizing how close I am to going out and murdering the son of a bitch. “He was verbally abusive. Always screaming at me, putting me down. He was controlling, too. Any time I was out of his sight I had to check in every ten minutes on the dot. He wouldn’t let me work. Controlled all the money. Cut me off from my friends.” She sounds exhausted as she lists out the details and I have to tighten my arms around her, wishing I could hold her close but needing to hear this.
“He said the worst things about me,” she goes on, voice dropping a few degrees. “Every day there was something else to pick on. The house was never clean enough. My cooking was terrible. I was getting fat. I was stupid. I was awful in bed.” She swallows. “He started having affairs—or, at least, he told me hewas. He liked to tell me how much better the other women were, how useless I was in comparison to everyone else.”
She laughs and the sound breaks my heart. “I have no idea if he was actually with anyone else. Jane never found any evidence of adultery to use in the divorce. For all I know he just got off on saying it to me. Knowing that he could do the worst things and I would still stay.”
“But you didn’t stay,” I point out. “You were brave and you left.”
She shudders in my arms, looking away. “One day, he locked me in the bathroom without my phone.” She swallows hard. “Said I needed to learn that he was in charge of where I went and what I did. Then he left the house. For two days.”
“Two fucking days?” I burst out. “Did he leave you food?”
She barely shakes her head no. “He said I had a toilet and plenty of water from the tap, and that’s better than I deserved.”
Fuck. I thought I wanted to kill the bastard before.
“It’s ridiculous,” she goes on. “That it took that much to get me to finally go. He was right, you know? I really was as pathetic as he always said.”
“Stop that," I bark out. “There’s nothing pathetic about you. He abused and controlled you, Kensie. That’s not your fault.”
“Logically I know that,” she whispers. “But sometimes its hard to actually believe it, you know?”
Of course it would be hard. That fucker tortured her, mentally and emotionally, for years. The fact that she overcame it is a miracle.
And I know I would spend the rest of my life trying to convince her of that—if she would only give me a chance.
Anyway. When I finally left, he didn’t take it well. Called me incessantly. Showed up at my job, screaming and acting crazy. Tried to pay a clerk at the hotel I was staying at to get into myroom. Jane found security cam footage of him slashing my car tires. So the judge granted a protective order.”
“And your ex broke the order this week,” I say, forcing myself to focus on the present moment. “You were upset. And that’s why you wanted to come here tonight?”
She shifts in my lap, clearly uncomfortable. “I thought it might ground me. It usually does.”
That sends a jolt of victory through me. “I’m so fucking glad I can be that for you sweetheart.” But I can’t let it go yet. “Tell me why you wanted to visit the dungeon tonight. That’s not your usual style.”
Again, she won’t meet my eyes. “I don’t know how to explain it. I just…I was feeling so awful. As soon as I saw those flowers it was like all the things he ever said came rushing back. I couldn’t get it out of my head, that I was stupid and useless. That I deserved bad things to happen to me.”
Suddenly, her begging me to punish her makes a lot more sense. And she asked me to degrade her. Why in the hell hadn’t I caught on that something was wrong? Fuck.
As if she’s reading my mind, Kensie dips her chin. “You probably think I’m disgusting,” she whispers. “Like, seriously fucked up. Wanting you to do those things to me just because my ex made me think I deserved it.”
“You’re not fucked up,” I say firmly. “Desire can be a complicated thing, Kense. People get into this lifestyle for all different reasons. I can guarantee that plenty of the people in this building right now are working through something pretty damn heavy.” I cradle the side of her face. “You needed a release this week so you came to me. I’m fucking proud of you for that.”
She looks like she’s not sure if she should believe me or not.
“But in the future,” I go on. “I need you to be honest with me, okay? I need you to tell me what’s going on with you. That’s the only way I can take care of you.”
She scoffs. “I shouldn’t need you to take care of me. I’m a grown-ass adult, I should be able to?—”
“Stop,” I insist. “Taking care of you is my fucking job. That’s the whole point of being a Dom.”
She doesn’t say anything and I know she’s not buying it.
“Do you know if your lawyer has been in touch with Jane about the flowers?” If she hasn’t, I sure as hell am going to be. If there’s anyone who can prove the flowers came from him, it’s Jane.
