Until I Break (18 page)

“Samantha, stop!” I hiss quietly. “I’ll take
you home. Just calm down. Don’t forget that we aren’t alone.”

I don’t want anyone thinking I’ve brought an
unwilling person to the club and I don’t want to draw any undue
attention to her. To either of us.

She won’t meet my eyes, but I hear her take a
deep, shaky breath as she reaches for the door knob. More steadily.
She turns it and steps through, pausing only long enough for me to
close it behind us, and then she’s heading for the stairs.

She descends them calmly and makes her way
toward the front door without appearing to be running for her life,
which I get the feeling she thinks she is. But when we are outside,
away from curious eyes, she takes off at a sprint toward the
car.

I walk slowly in her wake, giving her the
space she obviously needs. Meanwhile, all sorts of things are going
through my head, all sorts of theories and unanswered questions.
I’m already formulating new analyses to add to my Laura Drake file,
and I’m mulling the new insights I’ve been given to Samantha
Jansen. She’s quite the contradiction.

She seemed so ready, so open to me. How could
I have been so wrong?

I hit the button to unlock the doors and
Samantha ducks inside before I can reach the car to open the door
for her. I don’t suppress my sigh.

After I slide in behind the wheel, I start
the engine and get us back on the road to her place before I speak.
I figure she needs distance from the club before she’ll feel any
better.

“What happened back there?” I ask finally.
When she says nothing, I continue. “You can tell me. I want to know
your feelings about it.” Still she says nothing. “Samantha, I—”

“You said you would help me,” she interrupts,
anger and hurt oozing from her tone. “But you don’t want to help
me. All you want is a toy. A sick, twisted sexual toy to play with
in your little clubhouse. Why did I ever trust you?” she cries, her
voice breaking on the last word.

“I was up front with you from the beginning,”
I reply, my tone harsh. And honest. “You can hardly blame me
because you bit off more than you could chew. I told you what I
wanted. I told you what you could expect.”

“You never told me to expect
that.”

“It’s not like I took you there to cut you or
hurt you, for God’s sake. It’s harmless, every bit of it. Any venue
that conducts activities more extreme is
not
going to be
found in such an…open location. Those places are hidden. And for
good reason.”

“And I’m sure you know about all of them,”
she says waspishly.

“I might like a little bondage and a little
domination, but I’m hardly a sadist. Maybe all this judgment would
be better served turned inwardly.”

“Oh trust me,” she retorts, her eyes flashing
in the dim dashboard lights. “I’ve looked inwardly most of my life.
I’ve had to come to terms with a whole lot of stuff that someone
like
you
wouldn’t know the first thing about. That doesn’t
change the facts. You’re a predator. You take nice girls and you
turn them into the main attraction at a freak show.”

“I don’t turn anybody into anything. I simply
unlock doors and…set things free.”

“Put whatever pretty face you want to on it.
It won’t change the truth.”

“I’ve never tried to hide the fact that when
I see a beautiful woman, I want to show her things, things that
will set her insides on fire. But we burn together. It’s never
about harming anyone. It’s about pleasure. It’s all about
pleasure.”

“And I bet you don’t even try to fight
this…this…
sickness
.”

Her comment tweaks a raw nerve. “That’s where
you’re wrong,” I snap coldly. “Don’t pretend you know me. Because
you don’t. You don’t know what my life has been like. You don’t
know the things I’ve experienced. Believe me, I’ve had good reason
to fight this. And I’ve managed quite well for a long time now. But
I wanted you. That was my mistake.”

When I glance at her, I look quickly away,
gripping the steering wheel tighter. I see that the hurt has
returned, replacing the fire and the anger. And I know she’d
probably never guess how much it bothers me to see it there.

I close my eyes against the hauntingly
beautiful face of Alyssa—the one person I feel like I’ll never be
able to escape.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE- Samantha

I can’t write. I can’t sleep. I can’t really
think. Not for long anyway. And not about very many topics.
Everything gets ousted from my head by thoughts of Alec Brand.

It’s been three weeks since that horrible
night. I’ve relived it a dozen times every day, changing some
little thing each time, wishing it had turned out differently.

My reaction, my rejection of him and what he
shared with me, is something that I fear in life—to be labeled a
freak and shunned. To be judged harshly. And to think that
I
did that to someone else makes me feel physically ill. Yet I can’t
bring myself to call him.

The fact that he hasn’t reached out to me
speaks volumes. I haven’t logged on to any of our sessions, but I’m
sure he hasn’t either. Not that I would’ve expected anything
different. That night, when he brought me home, I got out without a
word, slammed the door and hurried straight into the house. That’s
how I left things.

Idiot!

I really don’t feel like being in public
today. If this hadn’t begun as my idea, I’d have gotten Ari to
cancel it. But it was, so I can’t.

I’m appearing at an independent bookstore
today. It’s a place I’ve visited on and off for years as Samantha
Jansen. When I saw that the shop was in trouble, I asked Ari to
approach her about us doing a signing there to get her some new
traffic.

I park my car in the short-term lot and carry
my bag into the airport, heading straight for the bathroom. Fifteen
minutes later, I come out as Laura Drake, confident on the outside,
devastated on the inside.

Ari is waiting for me on a bench just
outside. He stands when he sees me. “Ms. Drake,” he says formally
with a bow of his head.

“Mr. Nelson,” I reply in kind.

He takes my bag and leads me to where a limo
is parked. “Limo,” I say in approval. “Nice.”

We say very little on the trip over. I must
be emitting back-off vibes. They’re the only kind Ari ever pays any
attention to. And I’m pretty sure that, today, I’ve got them in
spades.

By the time we arrive at the store, I’m ready
to get this over with and get back home. There’s already a line out
the door, so I plaster on a smile and head around the building to
the rear entrance.

Inside, the women in line are chatting
quietly as the shop owner, Patricia, finishes stacking copies of my
books on a table set up at the back of the store near the cash
register.

I approach her and she turns toward me,
smiling. “I just can’t thank you enough for having your signing
here. It means the world to little bookstores like mine.”

The trip starts to feel more worth it as
Patricia’s sincerity penetrates the cloud of my despair. My smile
comes a little more easily this time. “It’s my pleasure. Thank you
for having me.”

She leaves to get me a cup of fresh-brewed
coffee as I get situated. I sit down behind the table and scan the
room. I’m dumbstruck when my eyes collide with intense pale green
ones. Then my day takes a turn for the…confusing.

Alec isn’t standing in line. He’s leaning
against the wall near the door with his arms crossed over his
chest, silently observing me. Surprisingly, I recover quickly, but
I’m glad when Patricia returns, providing me with some welcome
distraction.

Ari gets the signing started and I do my best
to concentrate on my readers rather than the man watching me from
across the room. It’s not easy, though, and it makes for the
longest two hours of my life.

When I’m signing the last book of the day, my
eyes stray to Alec. I’ve glanced surreptitiously at him two dozen
times at least and not once have I seen him move, speak, gesture or
even flinch like he might be considering approaching me. He’s just
watching me, always watching me. Silently. Broodingly.

I’m a bundle of nerves by the time I’ve
thanked everyone, said my goodbyes and am letting Ari shuffle me
out the door. Without looking back, I hop into the limo. But as I
sit inside, waiting on Ari who got caught by a fan, I can’t stop
myself from looking back at the store for signs of Alec.

I don’t see him, which further confuses me
and stimulates the whirlwind of questions circling my mind.

What could this mean? What does he want? Why
didn’t he speak to me? Where did he go? Will I see him again?

As my head spins out of control, the limo
door opens. I expect to see Ari duck inside. But I don’t. My heart
leaps up into my throat when I see Alec scoot onto the seat across
from me instead.

His eyes search mine for a few seconds before
he speaks. “I promised I’d help you. And I will. But you have to be
honest with me. Can you do that?”

My pulse is fluttering like butterfly wings
inside my chest and I feel nearly giddy that he’s here, in my limo,
sitting across from me, back in my life. I didn’t realize how much
I wanted him here until he was gone.

But there are still things that can’t happen,
things I can’t do.

“I can’t—”

“This is about you, Samantha. Not about me.
You have nothing to worry about,” he interrupts, putting my mind at
ease as if my thoughts are completely transparent to him.

Relief washes through me. Is it possible to
have him?
My way?
To have it all? Like I’ve hoped right from
the beginning?

Before I can thoroughly investigate the
downside to this—and I’m certain there is one—I find myself
agreeing. The lure of Alec, of my real-life Mason, is too
strong.

“Okay.”

“Be at my house by midnight.” Alec reaches
for the door, but I stop him.

“Midnight?”

He cocks one eyebrow. “Is that a
problem?”

“Um, I…is it…No, it’s no problem,” I finally
manage.

“I’m gonna show you that you can trust me.
I’ll always tell you the truth, even if it hurts.”

My heart sinks a little at that. Although
it’s a comforting fact, and I believe him, I’d really prefer he
didn’t hurt me at all. It makes me wonder if he foresees that
eventuality. Because the logical side of me sees nothing less.

“I know.”

With a nod, he eases fluidly out of the limo.
I lean forward to watch him go. I get only a glimpse of him nodding
to Ari before he disappears behind my publicist as he climbs into
the car with me.

“Do I even want to know what that was all
about?”

I worry my lip with my teeth. “I’m not sure
I
even want to know what that was all about.”

The limo pulls slowly away from the curb and
we’re on the road before Ari leans forward. His eyes are concerned,
his expression earnest. “Promise me something,” he says.

“How much am I going to hate it?” I tease,
figuring he’s got some new project up his sleeve.

“Promise me you’ll be careful with him, Sam.
He looks…dangerous. Hot, but very, very dangerous.”

“You think?” I ask, puzzled by what Ari sees
that would make him say that. I’ve always seen it, but I think that
has more to do with Mason.

Or maybe it doesn’t.

“Oh, I know. It’s not so much him as the way
you
react
to him. I worry about you…”

I smile and lean forward as well, putting my
hand on Ari’s knee. “Well don’t. I’m fine. And I will continue to
be fine,” I assure him, Laura Drake style.

I forget sometimes that Ari is impervious to
my Laura Drake confidence, though. I can tell by the look on his
face that he can see right through it, right through to the train
wreck I am underneath.

CHAPTER THIRTY- Alec

I haven’t said anything to Samantha since she
arrived. When I answered the door, I simply took her bag and purse,
set them in the foyer and then took her hand and led her around the
house to the walkway that leads to the beach. I figure she’ll say
something soon. I don’t think she’s all that comfortable with
silence. And that’s what I’m waiting for. I want to see where she
starts. I’ll take it from there.

“Why, Alec?” she finally asks after our feet
have hit the sand.

I rest my hands loosely in my pockets and set
a slow pace for our walk in the moonlight. “I promised I’d help
you.”

She doesn’t respond for several long
minutes.

I let her think.

“No offense, but I find it hard to believe
that you’re getting nothing out of this.”

“Oh, I’m not getting ‘nothing’ out of this,”
I assure her candidly.

“Then what is it that
you
want?
Because I’m not…”

“That’s off the table. We’ve already
addressed that.” I fall silent for a few steps, debating how best
to explain my position to her. “Samantha, I was being honest when I
told you that I fight this…desire of mine. Maybe I’m hoping that by
fixing you, I can fix me, too.”

“Can I ask why? You seem perfectly willing to
embrace it.”

“There was a time when I was. But things
change. Things happen. It’s not something I’m entirely comfortable
pursuing anymore.”

“Why?” she asks again.

I frown down at her. “Who’s here to help
whom?”

She searches my eyes for a few seconds before
she looks down at her feet. I hear her sigh. “So, what is your plan
then? How do you think you can help me?”

“Why don’t we start with you telling me
what’s bothering you? And I don’t mean right now. I mean, what is
it that has brought you here, to this place in your life? What are
you afraid of?”

If hesitation and uncertainty were tangible
things, they’d be flying off her and hitting me in the face. I know
she wants to trust me, to trust
somebody.
I know she wants
help, wants to live a normal life, whatever that means to her. But
she’s afraid.