Chapter 7
SEVEN
ETHAN
Finally, the week was over, and I was in the pew waiting for my turn in the confessional.
Fuck yeah, the week had finally passed, but not without breaking my promise to Hawk.
I’d been able to get to Wednesday unscathed.
But visions of me getting sick in the church hallway kept reminding me of what a fuckup I still was.
And why did I even have a flashback? The answer to that was easy.
Wednesday marked seven years. So, I’d gotten out the Wartenberg wheel and dragged the stainless-steel pins deep into both ass cheeks.
I rolled it over and over in zigzag patterns until my skin was open, raw, and bleeding.
I made sure that I kept the lacerations firmly on my rear end.
I just had to remember not to take a shower at the gym in case Hawk passed by at an inopportune time.
I felt bad cheating on Hawk, but I just couldn’t handle the fact that my mind could’ve been manipulated to the point that it wasn’t mine.
I wasn’t Gunner, the man that Thorne nicknamed me.
I didn’t have it in me to violate another person as badly as I had Luca.
Thorne had been intent on ruining Luca’s now husband, Cain Goldberg, and used Luca as his pawn.
I later learned from the DA that Cain had refused to tamper with IRS forms in Thorne’s name that proved him dealing in illegal trading in the stock market.
If found out, Thorne risked losing his empire, in addition to a jail sentence.
The consequence of Thorne’s revenge was Cain had been taken to the ER in critical condition with a bullet in his chest. And I’d done Thorne’s bidding and raped Luca.
Despite Luca’s condition, he’d made a getaway, disappearing in the middle of the night.
I’d committed myself into a drug rehabilitation clinic, one the detective on my case had recommended.
I wondered if Luca still suffered PTSD. He was always smiling, the genuine kind that reached his beautiful green eyes.
One time, someone had compared my darker green eyes to moss that grew in the darkness of forests and Luca’s lighter green to the Caribbean Sea just below the water’s surface, where it reached the sunlight.
The person hadn’t meant to be mean. But the analogy of dark to light was a perfect comparison for what I believed was my dark heart to Luca’s sweet and pure spirit.
A woman tapped my shoulder and shook me out of my thoughts. “Your turn,” she whispered.
I smiled, stood up, and went to the confessional. I took a beat before opening the rosewood door, then slipped inside. I didn’t look at Jude. I couldn’t. “Bless me Father, I have sinned by hurting myself.”
“I’m sorry, Ethan. What happened when you went to The Ring yesterday? Or did you not go?”
“I went,” I said, my head still lowered. “The marks are only on my ass.” Very slowly, I raised my eyes to meet his. “Wednesday was seven years.”
Jude’s voice was soft, like a caress. “How do you feel today?”
“I wanted to see you… to confess,” I added quickly.
“I’m glad, Ethan.”
“I almost sent a text but if I started, I might not have stopped,” I said truthfully.
My words brought a smile to Jude’s lips. “I wouldn’t have minded.”
I detected… amusement? Or no, more of an endearing note in the priest’s tone, which made my cheeks warm. “I’ll know for next time.”
“I hope so, Ethan,” Jude admitted. “I wanted to see you, too. You make me smile.”
I snorted silently. “Sure, with all my sob-story woes.”
“No… well, yes,” Jude confirmed. “Just seeing you. And out of concern. Who else can you reach out to when you’re feeling bad?”
“Usually, my best friend, Gabby. She’s actually my boss’s daughter,” I said, grinning. “But she’s been having problems in her marriage and I didn’t want to bother her. She’s the only other person I can talk to about… what happened.”
Jude looked as if he was about to answer when he turned his head slightly after he caught movement in his peripheral vision. “Shit,” he muttered. “Ethan, someone’s waiting. Come back tomorrow morning?”
Jude’s voice sounded optimistic and as I opened the narrow door to exit the tight cubicle, I glanced back at him and wondered why his mouth was downturned as he watched me leave.
The man who’d been waiting was right there at my elbow so I quickly moved aside to give him clearance.
The door closed and I swore Jude turned away from him and looked at me through the wooden grille.
On my way home I was glad that he wanted to see me again at the confessional.
He was such a caring man and I imagined he was popular with the parishioners.
He was unlike the pastor at my childhood church who demanded quiet, respect, and above all, no questions regarding the Bible.
I huffed out a breath and waved my hand, as if to dismiss old memories.
Instead, I remembered that I hadn’t checked on Gabby since Thursday. So, I instructed the virtual assistant to send Gabby a message, which showed up on the display screen.
Me: How are you? Is Belle there?
Gabby took five minutes to reply.
Gabby: Belle was leaving as your text came in
Me: Is she going back to her sister’s house?
Gabby: Yes. She inserted a crying emoji.
Me: Do you want company?
Gabby: Bring beer and tequila
Me: No tequila. IPA. See you in 15
Gabby: Love you. *heart emoji*
I cared for Gabby, as well as owed her for all the times she’d coaxed me through when depression and a desire to hurt myself threatened to overwhelm me.
Thus, I’d be what she needed—a sympathetic ear.
Maybe I’d also help Gabby see what she was doing to her marriage.
Because as much as I wished otherwise, she had to take responsibility for her part in their separation.
After stopping for beer, I drove the short distance to Gabby’s house.
When I pulled into the driveway behind her Subaru, I saw her on the porch, rocking.
She seemed to be in her own world and hardly reacted when I kissed her forehead and lowered onto the twin Adirondack chair, placing the six bottles between us.
I grabbed one, twisted the cap off, and tapped the cold glass on Gabby’s arm, which seemed to bring her back to the present. She took it and stared onto the street for a minute longer before she said, “Thanks. And not just for the beer.”
“You’d do the same,” I said and opened a bottle for myself. I clinked hers and then took a long draw.
“She wants a baby, Ethan. And told me that I’d carry it, just like we agreed months ago. But just like the last time I cried on your shoulder, we’re having the same argument. I won’t agree to a stranger as the sperm donor.”
“Initially, you agreed to a stranger, Gabby. She’s angry because now you’re going back on your word.”
“But like I keep telling her, that was before I met a few of them. No, Ethan. I won’t be bullied into carrying a baby for nine months with a sperm donor that we found on an online site. It’s the same as a dating app.”
“Is there any way to compromise?’
Gabby gave me a sidelong glance, then turned back to looking at the street. “If we use your sperm. Otherwise, she’s going to apply for a divorce.”
I choked over my own tongue. “What the fuck? You’re the one who told me that I was too unsettled to be the father.”
“Because back then, I wasn’t being serious,” Gabby admitted. “Now I am. You wouldn’t have to do anything with the baby.”
“Gabby, would you listen to yourself? Do you really believe that I’d father a child and not be a part of their life?”
Gabby had the decency to cast her eyes downward. “I’m desperate, Ethan.” She turned watery eyes to me. “I love Belle. She’s my everything and I don’t want to lose her. I know it’s my fault. Before she agreed to marry me, she asked if I wanted children, and I said yes.”
“Because otherwise she wouldn’t have,” Ethan said softly.
“I’ve been able to put her off but that’s not working anymore. She wants me to get pregnant before we get any older.”
“And you really don’t mind being the one who’d have to carry the child?”
Gabby shook her head. “I do in a way, but she can’t physically.
But it’s also being a parent. Having to rearrange our whole lives.
I didn’t always feel that way,” Gabby added hastily.
“It’s been since Belle has proven to be the perfect submissive.
In every way. Like I’d imagine you to be without the element of pain.
” She picked nervously at the label on the bottle.
“The last time you were here, you asked how we would keep our dynamic alive. The more I thought about it, I realized that we could in a limited capacity.”
“What does Belle think about it?”
Gabby drank again and just looked at me for a long time.
“You didn’t talk about it,” I supplied.
“How could I bring in something else to argue about?” Gabby groaned, her eyes watery.
“Because if she’s willing to abandon a piece of her nature that’s key to your relationship, then do you want to stay married to her? Either that or she’s not the submissive you believe her to be.”
I drained my beer in the ensuing silence as we rocked, our shoes tapping on the floorboards to keep the motion going.
The streetlamps flickered on and being a Friday night in a neighborhood with seemingly everyone under my age, residents were out celebrating the finish of another work week.
As a result, quiet reigned, with the exception of the distinctive call of cicadas and Gabby’s sniffles.
“Would you think about it, Ethan?” She put the bottle down and planting her feet on the ground to stop the rocking, she clasped my hand and squeezed it. “Please, just tell me yes, even if you won’t.”
I kissed her knuckles. “You know I won’t lie to you, Gabby. I will think about it, but not right away. I won’t until I feel grounded and I’m not praying every night that I don’t pick up the flogger. You wouldn’t want a baby with self-harming tendencies.”
“All right,” she said on a long sigh.