Chapter 18
Marcy
“Hop on the counter so I can bandage your hands,” he instructs. Without hesitation, I climb on trying to hold the towel in place. Sam rummages through drawers until he finds what he’s looking for. It hasn’t been long since I used this first aid kit on him. It seems like so long ago but it’s only been a few days. My emotional limit has been pushed and pulled in all directions, making me exhausted.
“Let me see.” Sam grabs my hand and places it on my thigh. The bruising is really starting to show. He tsks but pulls out some ointment and bandages. The cuts aren’t too bad but considering they were packed with mud, I’m sure he wants to take precaution against infection.
Before he gets started, he hesitates for a moment then looks up at me. I can see the irritation before the words come. “How am I supposed to take care of you, if you can’t take care of yourself?” he questions. I’m lost for an answer. I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for almost twenty years now.
“How dare you say that? I’ve been the only one who cares for me for more than half my life. I’ve made it this far!” I seethe as my breathing picks up.
“Your hands tell a different story.” I pull back from him as if his words burn me. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes from the anger boiling inside me.
“I got emotional at the cemetery. It doesn’t mean I can’t take care of myself, Sam!” I scoff and turn away, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Hey, it’s me, sunshine. Why are you getting so defensive?” He brushes a wet chunk of hair from my face, then firmly tilts my chin to look at him. “I don’t like seeing you hurt. It makes me feel like I’m not doing my job.”
“You don’t have to take care of me. I’ve said it over and over. I can do it all on my own, dammit.” The floodgates break and tears flow down my cheeks like intertwining rivers.
“I’m not going to say this again so you best listen. It is my responsibility and pleasure to care for you. It’s something I don’t take lightly. Not only am I your Dom but your mentor, teacher, and protector. I want what’s best for you no matter what.” Sam cups my face, swirling his thumb over my cheek. I don’t know why I have the urge to fight him on this. I’m just…scared.
“I finally got you, princess. I’m not letting anything take you away. So deliberately hurting yourself or putting yourself in danger, that shit stops now.” My eyes glisten with unshed tears as they stare into his.
“So,” I hesitate.
“I meant everything I said at the cemetery tonight. You are it for me. But I need you to understand what that means.” He takes a few moments before he says anything further. The thick silence stretches out between us making me uncomfortable.
“After Matthew died in my arms, my commanding officer insisted that I go through therapy. My mind was in a constant state of battle with itself. I was miserable but I didn’t think I needed help. I fought it until I broke down one night. Nothing even initiated it, but I’d hit rock bottom and I knew I needed to talk to someone about everything I kept bottled up inside.” Sam runs his hand down his face then places his hands on the counter on either side of me.
“I see it in your eyes. I see the pain you try to hide. I see how broken you are when you hold yourself together. I see all that because I’ve been there. You haven’t moved on from your parents’ deaths or Matt’s. That depression and loneliness follow you like a cloud. Of course no one else sees because you’re good at faking it. You’re good at putting on the face that everyone expects from you. But I truly see you. I see the hurt that never healed. I see that little girl that was forced to grow up before her time. I see the fear in your eyes, the fear that everyone you love will leave you in the end. I see you, sunshine. And I don’t want that pain for you.” Sobs wrack through my body as I try to reel in the emotions, but the more I try the more everything comes pouring out. Sam takes my injured hand in his, kissing my knuckles lightly then holding it up for me to see.
“This is from anger that has accumulated over time and finally was set free. You’re hurting yourself.” He pulls me into his warm embrace as my cries continue. I can’t deny what he’s said even though I want to. But I”d be lying. He’s right about everything.
“How do I make it better?” I murmur against his chest. “How do I make the pain go away? I’m so tired of hurting, Sam. So tired.” He holds me tighter, rubbing my back in comforting circles.
“You need to talk to someone. You’ve got to get it all out or you’re never going to be okay. You’ll always have that darkness hanging over you. I don’t want that for you. I want you to be happy. Full of life. I need you, sunshine.”
I nod my head in agreement. “But what will people think of me?”
“Who cares what anyone thinks? If they aren’t a positive force in your life then they don’t deserve a spot to be there. Fuck them. It’s time to take care of you.” Sam kisses the top of my head then pulls my chin up.
“Let’s get your hands cleaned up so we can get in bed. I think some cuddles are needed. It’s been a long day. Why don’t you take tomorrow off? I’ll make some calls and move around my schedule, you try to do the same.” The thought is intriguing. I hardly ever just take a day off, but I’m starting to think I need to begin listening to my heart and not be consumed by the need to progress in my career. I think I’ve worked so hard to keep the pain away but it never disappears does it? It hits you when you least expect it.
Samuel
Once Marcy’s hands are bandaged, we slide into bed.
“Oh, let me message Sarah and Nora about tomorrow.” She grabs her phone to send out a couple texts then puts it away. I already called Philip, my second in command, to set up some time off. He’ll only call me if there is a breach in someone”s security. He does well stepping into leadership if ever the need arises.
The heavy conversation still lingers in the air like echoes in an empty room, refusing to fade away. I know it’s still not the right time to tell her about my private investigator following her or the fact that I’ve been funneling business to her to ensure her continued success. Using the ‘trust card’ earlier but not using it myself is going to bite me in the ass. I know it. I’ve got to find a way to tell Marcy everything without her freaking the fuck out.
Marcy snuggles in close as I wrap my arm around her, pulling her in tighter. The warmth of her arm around my waist, and the gentle weight of her head on my chest, ease the fears I have when she finds out the truth. I close my eyes, wishing there was an easier way to approach this subject with her. She’s going to see it as a betrayal and I’m not sure I disagree with her. I let out a deep sigh trying to live here in the moment with Marcy.
“Hey, is everything okay?” Marcy runs her hand through my hair, pulling softly.
“Of course, it’s just been a long day.” I lean over kissing her forehead then return to my pillow. She hesitates for a moment then follows suit.
“Thank you for tonight. All of it. Even caring enough to follow me to the cemetery,” she whispers after a beat.
“I told you I would always be there for you and I meant it, even all those years ago.”
“I’m starting to realize that.” Her foot drags across my leg before she drapes it over.
I love that she’s getting more and more comfortable with me. She’s the perfect fit beside me. Our bodies mold together like clay on a potter’s wheel—soft, yielding, and shaped by the hands of intimacy. In this delicate dance, we become one, our contours fitting seamlessly, as if the universe conspired to create this perfect fusion. And so, we both become art—a sculpture of passion, a masterpiece of connection. In this moment, I find home.