Chapter 47
Kinsley
The Package
How and why I let Sarah and Brian convince me to go out tonight was beyond me. I wasn’t thinking clearly after Nikolai left. And now Alek had ruined my night.
Marcus was the only one I was happy to see, and I was thankful as he helped me out to the car. Ivan was out front, and I stumbled at the sight of him. He caught me before Marcus could steady me. I’d had too much to drink and felt foolish.
“Little love, you and I are going to have to have a long, hard conversation about your outfits and carrying your blade. Didn’t you get my package? This is unacceptable,”
Ivan growled, which only caused me to tear up.
“Be nice,”
I whimpered.
He wrapped me in his arms and rubbed my back. After a few minutes, he asked, “Is that better?”
“Yes,”
I mumbled, snuggling into his enormous chest. He smelled of soap, leather, and sandalwood.
I stayed that way for a few minutes, and then he pulled away. Sighing, he put me in the car, making sure my seat belt was buckled before he shut the door.
“Make sure she gets inside before you leave, Marcus.”
Hearing the weariness in his voice hurt my heart, and I hated that I was the cause of it. I was too sensitive tonight, and now that I had alcohol in my system, I wouldn’t be able to take a sleeping pill. It was for the best, anyway. I needed to not rely on them to cope.
I only had twenty left now and would have to make an appointment to get more. Looking out the window, I was consumed by the feelings of loss and let the tears fall. Before I realized it, Marcus was pulling up to my house.
After letting me out, he smiled and said, “Do you need help getting inside?”
“No, I’m better now,”
I whispered and meant it. The tears had sobered me up a bit.
“Very well, sleep well, Ms. Taylor. Don’t forget to set the alarm.”
After thanking him, I noticed two packages on my doorstep. Wrangling them was harder than I expected, and I cursed as I unlocked the door. The alarm blared, and I rushed to shut it off and close the door.
I was still shaking from my encounter with the Reaper. Did I really rub my pussy on him like a whore? God, I hated myself at that moment. All it did was give him another opportunity to say no, which he did. What was he even doing there?
It was all so pointless, my wanting him. I’d never be able to be what he needed or wanted. I walked away from every encounter with him questioning myself. I longed for him in secret ways—ways I hadn’t ever thought I’d feel.
He made me want to explore a lifestyle that both horrified and fascinated me. Damn my life. The unfairness of it left me confused. Confused because my exposure had two sides to it, and they were polar opposites.
My parents practiced that lifestyle. That was one of the hardest bits of information I’d had to come to terms with all these years later. My memories of my childhood were completely intact.
I remembered my father teasing my mother about spanking her, her using her safeword, and so much more. The subtle ways she responded to his authority and how he cherished her.
I couldn’t even explain the conflicting emotions I had when the Collector acted nice or lovingly to X one day, only to turn around and treat her like she was nothing the next. Whenever the nice moments happened, I’d get hopeful, only to be crushed later.
Every time. Despite it all, the years of abuse I’d seen, it could never negate the reality that my parents weren’t the same. Their relationship was nothing like what I’d been subjected to.
What bothered me was how something so beautiful could also be so twisted and ugly. It bothered me in the deepest part of my heart. Shortly before I turned twenty, I’d set out on a quest to get a better understanding, if for nothing else than for healing.
In many ways, part of my growth, especially over the last year and a half, had to do with what I discovered while researching. I had spoken to several subs with varying dynamics and asked so many questions.
Two of them had shared their own experiences that fell more to the unhealthy side of things. I’d learned from them that healing came when they found the right dynamic. The central theme that made a difference was genuine trust, respect, and, ultimately, clear-cut boundaries that each party adhered to.
I had even spoken with two Doms who shared their perspectives about the responsibilities and what an honor it was to have someone trust them completely. They stressed the importance of open communication between them and their subs.
At the end of the day, what my parents practiced and shared was consensual, loving, and worked for them. I was able to accept that, having the knowledge it wasn’t for everybody. Again, another sane reason to push Alek away. I wouldn’t be able to satisfy that part of him, especially if he was looking for a dynamic in which I’d have to call him Master.
I was still too broken. And despite how the women I talked to candidly shared how whole they felt now, I doubted I could be one of them. The problem for me was that Aleksandr’s very nature called to me.
At the heart of my brokenness was the realization that I was a sub, and I longed to be covered by a man. How do you function when the very nature of your soul craved something you couldn’t have? Living a life knowing I’d never be complete was crushing. My life, despite my best efforts, would always be an empty shell.
I looked over at the counter and saw the packages I’d picked up from outside. I reached for my blade and cut open the tape on one of them, smiling when I saw the note on top.
Everywhere you go, wear it. No excuses. Put it on now.
It was signed by “Blade.”
How sweet. I ran my fingers over the straps for the garter holster. It looked adjustable, too. So practical, and I loved it. I picked the other one up and couldn’t tell who it was from, so I sat it on the table. I’d look at it tomorrow.
I went through the motions of getting ready for bed and taking a long, hot bath. When the water turned cold, I got out. I lit four of my favorite candles, the ones with lavender, and flopped down on my bed. Damn, drinking was the worst decision I made tonight.
I wondered what the harm would be if I took one of my pills. Fuck it. I popped the lid off and took two. Scrolling social media, I waited for the pills to take effect. I nearly jumped out of my skin when my phone rang, the ringtone bouncing off my bare walls.
“Dr. Marcel,”
I answered.
“Good evening, Ms. Taylor. I hope it isn’t too late. I wanted to call and check on you.”
“Why?”
I asked warily. Why on earth is he calling me?
“You’ve been on my mind, is all.”
“I’m fine. Alek has been respecting my boundaries. My life has gone back to normal. Outside of the fact that Nikolai insisted I have an alarm system installed, I think I’m done with your friends.”
“How are you feeling about that?”
“Dr. Marcel, please don’t do that.”
“I heard that game night was a bit rough. They can get a little overwhelming for first timers.”
“Of course you’d know about game night. Why am I not surprised? It was electric, exciting, wicked, and then it wasn’t,”
I mumbled, torn between wanting to hang up and turn my phone off or talk to him more about that night.
“I understand you were disappointed and wished things ended differently. The rush of emotions—”
“The only thing I wish is that I’d never met the Death Squad. I wish I didn’t dream about the Reaper’s hand around my throat, the Crow’s dancing green eyes, or the sharp tip of the Blade’s knife tracing my nipples,”
I whispered, letting the tears fall.
“I’m sorry you feel that way. Sometimes we meet people who challenge us, force us to take a look at ourselves, and that can be uncomfortable.”
“Uncomfortable isn’t how I’d describe it. More along the lines of horrifyingly eye-opening and confusing. I need to be done with the Kings.”
I went out to get some water, my mouth suddenly so dry. I saw the other package and decided to open it. Pulling out the bubble wrap, I saw a god-awful red lingerie set. It was plastic-looking, gaudy, and made me feel cheap, and I wasn’t even wearing it.
My cheeks burned, and I dumped the rest of the contents out of the box. A hideous, thick black collar and book fell out. There was a note that read:
I’ll be there soon. Put the lingerie on and wait for me. Place the collar at your feet.
I stood there, phone clutched in my hand, while the world seemed to fall away around me. Marcel’s voice, which had been firm and insistent just a moment ago, now faded into the background. It was distant and muffled as if a confirmation that he was on the other end of the earth from me.
My gaze was fixed, unblinking, on the note and the contents of the package. It lay before me, a chilling reminder of the darkness that had once been my reality. Panic rose within, and Marcel’s voice became even more distant as I retreated.
“Ms. Taylor, did you hear me?”
I stared in horror at the card in my hand. And seriously, what was wrong with this man? He had the gall to ignore me for weeks, and then what? Send me a package that was disgusting and unwarranted? My mind couldn’t comprehend what was happening.
“Why would he send me something like this? What in the fuck is wrong with him?”
I finally answered, finding my voice.
“With Alek and the guys? Nothing that I’m aware of. I know they are still investigating things. That is why you aren’t quite done with them yet.”
Dr. Marcel’s voice had gone back to being controlled and mellow. He didn’t understand what I was looking at. If he knew, maybe…yeah, he would help me now, surely.
“Dr. Marcel, I honestly need your help.”
I shook with anger, both at myself for encouraging Alek in subtle ways despite knowing what he was into. And then at Alek for sending me this gift.
“That’s why I’m calling. I’d love to help you process your feelings.”
He continued speaking. His well-meaning words were nothing more than frustrating advice. Exasperation consumed me, and I wanted to scream. It wasn’t entirely his fault; it wasn’t like he could see through my phone.
“No, you don’t understand. I’m looking at a package from your friend. Let me take a picture and send it to you so you get why I need your help,”
I hissed into my phone.
I arranged the items on the table, gagging at the title of the book, Extreme Sex Slave Rules and Regulations. Seeing it next to the collar made me lightheaded. I snapped it and sent it to him. There was a pause before he spoke again.
“There’s no way in hell Alek sent you that package. I get he has crossed some boundaries with you, but nope. Again, there’s no way he would do something like that. He fucking knows better. It’s not his style, both in taste and approach. Not to mention that’s not a dynamic he’d ever be into.”
“You expect me to believe that? You haven’t seen him with me. Did he tell you what he said to me? That he wanted to…to…What the hell is wrong with him?”
I asked, feeling lost.
“I know my friend, and there is no way in hell he’d approach a potential relationship like that with you. I don’t give a fuck who you are. Jesus, what the hell has he told you about the regular who was coming into the café? Did the package come in the mail? Is your door locked?”
“The regular? I don’t understand,”
I stuttered.
“Is your door locked? Answer me, Ms. Taylor. When did you receive it?”
he asked, his voice tense and firm.
“What do you mean? Yes, my door is locked. It was mailed,”
I breathed, feeling faint.
“That regular that Alek originally asked you about, he was potentially casing you. You know what young girls get cased for. Surely, you can understand their concern.”
“Casing me?”
I asked, trying to ensure I heard him correctly. Panic began to set in. I should never have taken his call.
“Yes, didn’t Alek tell you?”
A tinge of frustration colored his voice.
“Dr. Marcel?”
My voice sounded panicked in my own ears.
“Look, I know the guys wanted to gather more information. Often, in these situations, replacements are sent out. There’s a reason they haven’t walked away from you. Honestly, we don’t have answers to everything yet. There’s a real possibility you could be in danger.”
My hands shook, and my breath caught in my chest as I squeezed my eyes shut.
“Are you there?”
The faraway voice of Dr. Marcel barely registered in my head.
“I’ve got to go now,”
I said into the phone, feeling numb. I walked to my room and lay down on the bed.
I hung up, and his words played on repeat in my mind. This was a bad dream. You’re asleep, I told myself.
But the ringing of my phone brought me back to reality with a jolt, causing me to scream and jump off my bed. I thought about the encounters I’d had with the regular. He seemed quiet, but now that I thought back, there was a time I thought he’d taken my picture. I brushed it off, feeling like I was overreacting.
Clamping my hand over my mouth, I struggled to keep down the bile that threatened to rise. I was completely aware of what young girls got cased for. I’d lived it. A domino effect of memories overwhelmed me.
In an instant, the voice that had haunted me in my nightmares for eleven years filled my mind, and I was consumed by fear. The masked face took shape in my imagination, and I found myself gasping for air as I struggled to catch my breath.
If Dr. Marcel was right, and this package hadn’t come from Alek, then who? My body and mind snapped, and I flew into survival mode. I raced around, grabbing a duffle bag from my closet. I ran to the living room and quickly cleaned out the safe, dumping all the items in the bag.
I needed to leave and leave now. My body was moving slowly because the pills had taken effect. My bears! I went back inside my room and grabbed them. I looked around frantically, trying to focus. What else, what else, think, damn it, Kinsley.
I needed Owen’s letter; I had put it inside my nightstand drawer. I reached into it, moving everything around. My mind was everywhere, and I was getting frantic. I couldn’t find it.
Screaming, I ripped the drawer out, dumping it. I watched in horror as the corner of the letter caught the flame of the candle. The envelope landed on my bed, and the ensuing whoosh of flames startled me.
I tried to grab the envelope before it was fully engulfed, but the flames were everywhere. I couldn’t get it. I cried out, dropping my duffle bag and looking around for someone to help me.
Realizing it was only me, I sobbed. I backed away as the acrid stench of smoke filled the room. My mind screamed at me to run, but I was hypnotized.
The fire cracked and snapped around me, and my body grew heavy. The flames began a dance of sorts as they swayed and moved, and I matched their rhythm as the heat surrounded me. The edge of my duffle bag caught fire, and black spots flickered before my eyes.