Chapter 26
Frankie
T he kitchen was cleaner than she’d expected it to be. Cleaner, actually, than she could ever remember seeing it. Which was saying something since Holden was somewhat meticulous about how he kept his house.
But now, the kitchen literally sparkled. All evidence of her binge the night before had been cleaned away, and there was even a fresh trash bag in the can. Not a single reminder of her lack of self-control remained.
It was, quite possibly, one of the most thoughtful things anyone had ever done for her.
She didn’t deserve him.
That thought continued to plague her as she settled in at the kitchen table, under his watchful eye while he made them breakfast. All the things he’d done for her, including giving her the space to make up her own mind about their relationship instead of forcing his own wants and needs on her, were far more than she deserved. And far less than he deserved.
And how did she repay him? By lying to him about her therapy appointment and then going on a binge the second life got a little too hard.
Maybe her mother was right. Maybe she was spoiled. A spoiled brat so used to getting her own way she couldn’t cope when something even remotely upsetting happened.
That rock of guilt she never seemed to be without lately grew heavier as she rolled that possibility around in her mind. She didn’t deserve him… but maybe she did deserve something he could give her.
“You should spank me,” she blurted out into the silence that had enveloped them as he cooked.
Turning away from the stove, Holden frowned. “Absolutely not.”
“Why?” Now that her brain had latched onto the idea, she was nearly desperate to convince him of its merits. “I did something bad, and I should be punished. We’ll both feel better after.”
“I am not going to punish you for something that was out of your control, Francesca, and that’s final.”
Pushing to her feet, she crossed the kitchen to stand beside him, arms folded over her chest as she glared up at him. “It wasn’t out of my control. Don’t make excuses for me.”
“I’m not making excuses.” Once again, his eyes were full of sympathy and understanding where she’d expected to find disappointment and anger. She still wasn’t quite sure what to do with that. “I told you, I’ve been reading about anorexia and bulimia. I’m well aware that a binge is often out of the control of the person doing the binge. I am also aware a binge can be triggered by emotional stress, which is why you’re going to call your therapist. See if you can’t pinpoint the trigger and make an action plan for when it comes up again.”
“Maybe it wasn’t triggered by anything. Maybe I just don’t have any self-control. Maybe I’m just a spoiled brat who?—”
“Francesca.” The whip-crack of authority in his voice cut her off. “Stop it right now. You are not going to provoke me into spanking you. But if you keep going down that road, you will find yourself sitting at that table, writing out lists of positive affirmations until you physically can’t write another word. Am I understood?”
Desperation clawed at her, sharp knives shredding whatever sense of self-preservation she had left. She wanted him to spank her. Needed the emotional release it would bring, the relief from the ever-growing guilt weighing her down.
And there was one thing she hadn’t yet confessed that was guaranteed to get her exactly what she needed.
“What if I told you I lied about my therapy appointment?”
His eyes narrowed, and finally, finally she got the flash of anger she knew she deserved. “Did you?”
There was so much hardness in his voice, she had to swallow hard before she was able to answer. “Y-yes, Sir. I said Lottie would take me but she didn’t even know about it. She got in trouble with Braden for covering me when it came up at Silver’s the other night.”
“Why would you lie?”
“Because I didn’t want to go.” If she was going to confess, she might as well be honest, right? “I already know everything she’s going to tell me. I learned all the coping mechanisms years ago. There’s no real reason for me to go.”
“I might buy that if you hadn’t put yourself in the fucking hospital, Francesca. I swear, I’m tempted to wear my belt out on your ass until you can’t sit for a week.”
Fucking finally. “You should. I deserve it.”
“Trust me when I say I’m seriously considering it. But I want to be very, very sure that you don’t confuse whatever punishment you do get for lying with the punishment you think you deserve for bingeing last night. I’m not going to feed into that if I can help it.”
Goddammit. Did he really have to see her so clearly? “Sure. Whatever.”
To her shock, he didn’t scowl or threaten her again. Instead, a smile curved his lips as he stared down at her. “If you’re going to act like a pouty child who’s been denied something she wants, you’re much more likely to find yourself standing in the corner than over my knee. I don’t negotiate with brats, no matter how adorable they might be.”
“You think I’m adorable?”
“Francesca.”
Sighing, she leaned back against the counter. “I just don’t understand why you won’t spank me. I lied right to your face about something important. If that doesn’t deserve a hell of a spanking, I don’t know what does.”
He reached for her, gripping her chin between his thumb and forefinger in that way he had that never failed to make her feel very, very small. “Trust me, you will be punished for lying. And by the time it’s over, I suspect you will think twice about ever lying to your Daddy again. But I won’t be manipulated into doing something that could harm you, just because you think it’s what you deserve. So that’s the last we’re going to talk about it until I’ve decided what your punishment should be. Am I clear, Francesca?”
Even though she wasn’t getting exactly what she wanted out of the exchange, a sense of calm washed over her. Whatever he decided, it was out of her hands, and there was a lightness to that knowledge. To knowing that no matter how much she might hate herself for what had happened last night, Daddy would take care of it. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl. Now, go set the table. Breakfast is almost ready.”
Holden
The question of how to punish his wayward babygirl plagued him all through breakfast. And through the two hours he spent working while she watched a movie on her tablet in his office. Despite how nice, how homey it felt to have her there while he worked, the weight of his decision weighed on him.
By the third time he caught her yawning, he sent her upstairs for a nap. Which, of course, she protested, but he found himself grinning at her sulky attitude as she dragged herself out of his office toward the stairs. She was seeming much more like her usual bratty self, and even if it did make him a little crazy, it felt like a move in the right direction.
“At least an hour,” he called after her. “You don’t have to sleep but you had better stay in that bed until I come get you.”
“Yeah, yeah, I heard you.”
His palm positively itched to connect with her ass, but he forced himself to stay seated as he listened to her climb the stairs. Spanking was off the table for now, no matter how many of his buttons she pushed.
When he was sure she was tucked away upstairs, he picked up his phone and tapped out a message to the one person he was certain knew enough about Frankie’s… issues to give him some sound advice.
HOLDEN
Need to talk. It’s about Frankie. You got ten minutes to spare?
CORDELIA
Just about to go on my lunch break. Give me a few and I’ll call.
He glanced toward the stairs as he waited for his phone to ring. Uncertainty wasn’t a feeling he was used to entertaining, even more so when it came to the woman sleeping upstairs in his bed. From the moment he’d laid eyes on her, he’d known she was his. And he’d moved forward on that assumption, that no matter what, she would yield to him eventually.
But, in her very Frankie way, she’d thwarted him at nearly every turn. He was never quite sure which version of her he was going to get, and he was apparently enough of an emotional masochist to enjoy the chase.
Now, however, that uncertainty felt so much… deeper. Heavier. Making the wrong move when she was running from him had never held any real consequences, save his own frustration when she outmaneuvered him yet again. But if he made the wrong call now, god only knew what kind of damage it could have on her psyche.
The buzzing of his phone against his hand jolted him out of his dark thoughts, and he nearly sighed with relief at Cordelia’s name on his screen. “Hey. Thanks for calling.”
“Of course.” Her smoky voice was stronger today, without the tremors of fear, then anger he’d heard over the past couple days. “What’s up?”
“I assume Frankie told you all what happened. Why she was in the hospital.”
“She told the others, which means Ivy told me. Starving herself, like she doesn’t look like a fucking runway model even on her worst day. I swear to god if I ever get my hands on whoever made her feel like she needed to…” Pausing, Cordelia dragged in a deep breath. “Sorry. You didn’t call to listen to me rage. Yes, I know why she was in the hospital. Did something happen?”
Her rage helped to settle him, for reasons he couldn’t quite explain. It was almost like she was validating his own anger, his own helplessness, and it calmed him in a way little else could these days. “Yeah. I got home last night, found her in the kitchen, crying. Surrounded by empty bags of chips and candy and a few other things.”
“Fuck. How is she today?”
“Better.” He paused, suddenly unsure of how to continue. But as with so many other things in life, he figured the best way forward was just to say it. “She wants me to punish her. For the binge.”
Silence fell on the other end of the line, so complete he wondered for a moment if the call had dropped. Until he heard her low hiss of breath.
“You better not even be thinking about it, Holden Prescott, or I’ll come over there and kick your ass myself.”
Again, her anger was validation he hadn’t even realized he’d needed. “I’m not. But I do have a bit of a dilemma. She’s been trying to get me to spank her all morning. Even confessed she lied to me about going to therapy the other day. Got Lottie in some trouble with Braden because she covered for Frankie when it came up.”
“So she definitely earned herself a hell of a punishment for that.”
“She did. But I don’t want there to be any doubt in her mind that I’m punishing her for the lie and not the binge. And I’m worried if I give in and spank her…”
“Then she’ll twist it in her head as a punishment for the binge.” Cordelia let out a low whistle. “Yeah. That is a bit of a dilemma.”
“It is. My instinct is to use a different punishment, but I’m not sure what’s going to get the message across. If we weren’t keeping things platonic, I’d put her on orgasm restriction, maybe force her to sit and write lines while I edged her with a toy.”
Cordelia’s chuckle, dark and a little wicked, came through the phone. “I might have to steal that one. Not that Ivy is ever quite naughty enough for something that harsh, but just in case.”
“Happy to help. Now, I just need to figure out what to do about my own naughty girl.”
“Well, for starters, I think taking her over to Braden’s and having her apologize both to him and Lottie would be a good start. A real apology, not just ‘I’m sorry’. Make her explain what she did and why it was naughty. Did she have any excuse for why she lied about going to her appointment?”
“Said she didn’t need it. That she already knows everything from when she went before.”
“Oh, well then I’d have her write me an essay. With plenty of cited sources about the importance of therapy during recovery. And if it were my girl, I’d make her write me up a detailed schedule of every minute of her day for at least a week with regular check-ins to ensure she is where she’s supposed to be.”
“Hmm. That could work.” The essay, at the very least. Checking up on her like that felt too intrusive for the relationship they were supposed to have.
“The other option, if you think she needs a spanking for the emotional release, would be to have Braden do it.”
Frowning at his computer screen, he rolled the idea around in his mind. “Because she got Lottie involved in her lie.”
“Exactly. And it would be harder for her, in my opinion, to twist it into something it’s not if you aren’t the one giving her the spanking. It should be very clear to her why she’s being punished if Braden is the one delivering it.”
“You are sadistically brilliant. It’s a good thing for Ivy she’s such a good girl.”
“It is,” Cordelia agreed with a laugh. “She plays the brat for me to give me an excuse to spank her, but I rarely have to truly punish her. My sweet girl would rather die than disappoint me.”
“You’re good for each other.”
“So are you and Frankie.”
“Really? Then why were you so…”
“Why was I such a bitch about you two getting back together?” she asked, her tone dry.
“I would like it noted that those were not my choice of words. But yes.”
“Because you’re both my friends and the last thing I want is to see either of you doubt what you have because of the circumstances that brought you together. I’ve seen it happen too many times when a Dom swoops in to save a submissive from herself. Once she doesn’t need him anymore, she starts to want her freedom. Or she feels like she owes him and that’s why she stays. You both deserve better than that.”
“We do.” The last thing he wanted was for Frankie to feel trapped, or like she owed him some kind of fucked-up debt because he’d supposedly rescued her.
It was something to think about, and to talk to Frankie about. After her punishment. Ending the call with Cordelia, he scrolled back through his contacts, his thumb hovering over Braden’s name for several long moments before he finally tapped the screen.
“Hey. I need a favor.”