15. Chapter 15
It's been a while since I've let anyone drop that low into subspace. A place that should have far more prep before they enter it. Conversations and agreements to be had. It’s unlike me to ignore those things and move forward.
Until Nina.
Honestly, I don't find myself to be that guy who even encourages women to submit quite that readily, but Nina was easy.
Not only had she been begging for it, but I'd wanted to take her down.
Her vulnerability and the brief moment of submission that came from a woman who in most cases, never would have… Yea, it got to me.
So, am I the one in charge?
Fuck.
As she sleeps in my arms here, I can't help but remember all the things that happened up until this point.
I should be nervous.
I did as best as I could to take care of her. Making sure that she has everything that she needs, I cleaned her up, helping her lie on her side that isn't scraped up. I keep her close to me, letting my warmth be a solid presence with her. Nina won’t wake up feeling alone and empty.
She’s in danger of just that.
This isn’t like daydreaming or acting. Losing that control and giving it to someone else is a lot for the mind to handle. This was not Nina’s first time.
I don't tend to enter a scene that allows me to bring anyone that far down, but Nina had been so good for me…
I was absolutely supposed to be keeping this about the green and not letting anything get in the way.
Have to resolve what I needed to in Atlanta and get back to Louisiana, back to my life—back to my kid—but I should have known that this little princess would draw me in, and that's just my fucking fault.
She's hurting, and I don't know exactly who to blame or if there even is someone to blame, but all I know is that everything happening between us is not happening at the right time.
There's too much on the line for this.
Does she realize how much is on the line?
After only maybe three hours of my own sleep, I feel Nina wake.
It’s not a peaceful wake-up call for me.
She's out of the bed, scrambling away, unsure of where she's at or what she's doing. She looks down at my shirt that swallows her small frame and panics even more.
It's still dark outside and even darker inside the room, with the curtains drawn and no lights on, and it only takes a second before her pained whimper rings around the room.
I'm up immediately, grabbing her in a bear hug, trying to remain careful of her side. She kicks and tries to fight me again, just as much strength as she had the first time when I grabbed her to put her in the—
“Nina?” I hug her tighter. "Nina. Nina, doll, you need to calm down."
She freezes, her body going completely still. "Vert?" she asks tentatively in a voice that's too low for me to recognize as being her own.
"Yea, it's me, baby. Calm down."
She shakes her head, her hair whipping me in the face and clueing me in on just how much she's panicking right now.
"Nina, you have to calm down. You're gonna have a fuckin’ panic attack. Just breathe. Breathe, baby. Do you remember how to do that?"
"No, no," she says. "No, I don't remember. Please, just let me go. Let me go, please." She's pleading with me again, and this time it's not the desperate question fueled by arousal and desire, but instead one driven completely by fear, and I don't understand why.
"Nina—"
"No," she says, finally kicking me in the shin hard enough to get my grip to loosen on her, and she immediately scrambles for the nearest doorway.
Her eyes must have adjusted to the darkness. She immediately turns on the light and starts scrambling around, looking for her belongings. At least she remembers having them here, but I don't understand this reaction.
Fuck. I don’t understand. She was deep, but does she not remember what happened yesterday? "Nina, I need you to calm down." I sound like a broken record but I don’t know what will get her to stop moving around the room like everything is on fire.
Her eyes meet mind for only a moment before she’s back to look for what I know are shoes. “I’ll be calm when I get out of here. I need to get back to my place."
She fastens the clasp before I reach for her arm now, forcing her to stop her efforts. “And I'll take you. Have no problem takin’ you, but can you just stop runnin’ around right now?"
"No," she says, the broken tone making something in my chest hurt.
Why is she— What did I do wrong?
"I just... I need to go. Can you please take me home?"
With as much of her belongings as she can find, clutched in her hands, including her shredded pink plaid clothes from yesterday, I help her find the rest and throw on some clothes to get into my rental.
Thankfully, I had the wits to have it cleaned out last night after I picked her up, so she doesn't have to sit back in her muddy seat.
As I open the door for her to get into the passenger seat, she pointedly isn't sitting back. She puts on her seat belt, still remaining alert and looking around.
When I sit into the driver's seat next to her, I ask, "Are you sure this is what you want to do? I really think you should just lay down. You shouldn't be alone right now."
She doesn't respond to me, instead telling me her address like I haven't already been there before, like I don't already know how to get there.
That's the end of that conversation, and I can't make her do something she doesn't want to do. Some time is clearly necessary but I don’t know if there is a bomb sitting in my passenger seat or not.
I take my time going as slow as I can so that her injury isn’t agitated more but also so I can figure out exactly what I’m going to say to her.
"Could we talk about it?" I settle on when we're about halfway to her apartment. It being us finally fucking and how she is a secret submissive. A submissive with experience. The sex was good. Great. Better than great, I can’t fucking lie. I’d be stupid to think that anything has topped what it was like to be with Nina Wilcox. But I’d also be stupid to ignore more red flags when it comes to this woman.
She’s crafted the person she displays and it must be for a reason more than a simple rejection in your past. I have so much more that I want to know, but I can’t let her know any of that right now.
"Nothing to talk about," she says. The words dry and devoid of any of her usual playfulness. I know it’s not from the early hour and it couldn’t be from the scrapes on her side. She was still mouthing off yesterday before—
"Nothin’?”
"No." She checks her phone for the thirtieth time, and I can see there's notifications and such, but it looks like it's all from social media, not any text messages or calls. I didn't hear her phone ring once, even though I was tired. I'm always a light sleeper.
Is no one checking on her?
“Want me to get you somethin’ to eat before you go home?"
"No," she says, and that seems to be the only answer that I'm going to get from her.
I switch things up, choosing instead, "If you weren't so afraid of bein’ with me, would you be gettin’ breakfast right now?"
She blinks a few times and then turns to face me. I catch her looking at me for several seconds before looking away. "I don't know," she says.
What the fuck?
I fully expected her smart ass retort, but I think she’s being honest. Everything about the time in the rental is different.
Each time she’s gotten in my car, it’s something different.
I’d been somewhat prepared for the unexpected because Nina has always kept me on my toes, but I don’t like the dull look in her eyes.
What happened between now and then?
"Did I hurt you?" I ask.
Her lips press tightly together—no response.
"So, what? All talk and no action?” I try, still hoping that she’ll snap out of it. If she was well enough to leave bed then she should be well enough to have a conversation as usual.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Means what I said. You call me, tease me, for weeks on end—just gettin’ off and going—and the moment I fuck you…” I scoff, more to myself because I should have known that it was a bad idea to fuck someone so young. “Now you're scared, and you're runnin’.”
"I'm not running," she says, with no more inflection than before.
"Sure, not physically, but emotionally, you're runnin’. You—“
Her eyes are hot on the side of my face as we near her place. “Wasn't just fucking, Vert. It was obviously more than that."
"To who?" Curiosity overwhelming me inside because I don’t know if I can say that there is any difference in attachment from her to me. She’s unhappy about something that happened last night.
Her eyes narrow on me. "For us."
"Us? Us would imply you and me, but it obviously didn't mean anythin’ to you.
" I'm baiting her in the same way that she baits me, pushing me to face things that I didn't want to.
Now that she's in the same boat, she's still trying to run.
I'll forever be the cat trying to catch the little mouse.
Once just to catch her facing up to her own wrongdoing, and now I just want her to face up to her own feelings for me.
I already knew she had, but I didn't realize that showing her any amount of attention back would mean that she'd become whatever the fuck this is right now.
"Let's just forget it happened, okay?"
She cannot be serious.
"Me, forget you? You think I'd forget your sweet little moans for me? You think I'd forget how perfect of a doll you are for me? You'd think I'd forget how good you were submittin’?” Shaking my head I say, “You're wrong. Not only will I not be forgettin’, but I'm gonna fix it, Nina."
"Fix what?" Finally, there's fire behind her words, something I can recognize as being an attribute of the woman who I had been obsessing over.
Yea, fine—Obsessing.
"Fixin’ whatever is broken, Nina. I didn't forget that you're hurtin’ yourself—that you feel the need to."
She flinches hard and though I don’t have my eyes on her the whole time, as soon as the words leave my mouth she’s sharp with her response. “It's none of your business. Just stay out of it."
"That's where you're wrong. The moment I saw those scars, those cuts, I knew that there was somethin’ more underneath. Let me help."
"No," she says with finality as we pull up to her complex.
"Just stay out of it, and stay out of my way.
This was sex, only sex, and a way for you to pay me back for stuffing me in your fucking trunk yesterday.
" With all her things in her arms, she steps out of my passenger door walking away, so I can’t reach her.
My hand empty as it falls into the seat.
"So you'd do it again?"
"In a heartbeat,” she says. Not a glowing review or the answer I wanted but I’ll take it. If the only way I can get to see the real Nina is when she drops, then I’ll just have to keep trying.
"But you won't let me help you."
"There's nothin’ to help,” she bites out.
"Nina."
"Vert,” she exhales with exhaustion instead of pleasure as before. Her standing there in my shirt that grazes her thighs and the cake heels I’ll never forget. They’re dirty and have seen better days. I’m sure she’ll be upset about them later when she gets back to herself.
“Not lettin’ it go. I'll let you go back to your place, but that's as much distance as you'll be gettin’. I'm gonna figure it out, and I'm gonna find a way to help you, whether you're on my side doin’ it with me or not."
"I don't know what that means," she says, "but, we have a job to do. We're going to do that, and that's it, right?"
"Right," I say, letting her think that I'm going to let it go. She should know that I’m not. But she’s not thinking clearly right now. That much has been made clear.
Everything is getting more convoluted, and though I haven't found an answer for the other things she's been doing, specifically the murdering things, I can't ignore that this is just as big an issue as the other ones are.
If I can figure out why she's doing it, then I can find a way to make her stop.
I watch as she walks away, knowing that, though she's leaving, we're not done.