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ALTHOUGH I NEVER WANT to hurt Olivia again, makeup sex is fucking awesome. However, coming home to her feels so much better. The opportunity to make my fantasy a reality came today. The conference call was the perfect excuse to have her drive back to my place after work and wait for me. I didn’t realize how badly I want this until the helicopter lands on the roof of the beach house. I’m eager to experience everything it means to come home to the woman I love. Now that I have her back, I’ll never let her go. I can’t imagine a life without her.
Descending the stairs from the roof top, I enter the house from the deck. It’s eerily quiet, not at all what I was expecting. There’s no sign of Olivia or Winston. I call out to Olivia, when she doesn’t respond, panic floods my veins with adrenaline. Racing up the stairs, I take them three at a time. Rationally, I know it’s possible Olivia simply didn’t hear me and maybe she didn’t hear the helicopter landing. However, emotionally my heart is telling me Olivia is in trouble and she needs me.
When I reach the top of the stairs the bedroom door is closed, but there’s nothing unusual about that. Fear of what I might find behind the closed door, paralyze me for a nanosecond. Mentally, I try to prepare myself for the worst, before opening the door. My heart skips a beat, finding Olivia kneeling, bound and gagged with Carina holding a gun to her head.
“I’m home,” I say to a blindfolded Olivia.
She gives me a slight nod of acknowledgement.
“Welcome home, Dorian.” Carina’s voice drags my attention away from Olivia.
I lay eyes on Carina for the first time in more than thirteen years. At nearly fifty years old, her chin length red hair shows no sign of graying. And her emerald green eyes are dark and as focus as I remember.
“Let Olivia go.” I command. “You gain nothing by harming her.”
“Not until after the scene. I wrote a big finale for her.”
“If you hurt her I...”
“If you want to keep your pet, she needs to be trained.” Carina interrupts.
“I will never let you hurt Olivia the way you hurt me.”
“You will do as you’re told.” Carina barks, turning the gun on me. “And you will enjoy it like you always have.”
I keep my hands down at my side, refusing to surrender by holding them up. Carina will never have my submission again.
Olivia stirs from her position on the floor, and I notice the tears sliding down her cheeks under the blindfold. The sight of her in distress gives the fourteen-year old boy in me the courage to standup for them both.
“It wasn’t enjoyment I felt.” The words hang in the air, no longer stifled by shame. “Physical and sexual abuse of a minor is not the same as a relationship between consenting adults. It’s not even the same as a Dominant/submissive relationship. I never gave you my consent. You forced my submission.”
“That maybe how it started, but don’t you dare lie and tell me you didn’t enjoy our games.”
“My body responded to sexual stimulation and mental conditioning. And I hated myself for being a weak coward.”
“I know about the Asylum. We can be together now, my little gray wolf.”
“Don’t you fucking call me that.”
Hearing Carina use the nickname my mother gave me, enrages me. Taking a step forward, I fight the impulse to strangle the life out of her.
“Is it because you don’t think your parents, or your uncle would approve? They’re not here anymore, we’re all that’s left and I’m sure they would want us to be happy.”
My gaze moves from Carina to Olivia. “I am happy. Despite what you did to me I’m happy.”
“I won’t allow her to come between us. I’ve worked too hard to get you back. I won’t lose you to your goddamn pet.”
Carina turn the gun back to Olivia and I panic, promising her everything if she will just let Olivia go free.
“Please CeCe,” I beg, if you ever cared about me don’t do this. Please don’t hurt her, I will do whatever you want.” My head bow under the weight of the truth. I will do anything to save Olivia, sacrifice everything to ensure her safety.
“You haven’t called me CeCe since Peter died.”
For a fleeting moment, warmth and compassion hides the pain in Carina’s eyes. I see the love she still has for my uncle. And a part of me shares the pain of her loss.
“My uncle wouldn’t want this for you.”
“I miss him so much,” Carina confesses.
“I miss him too.”
“Peter and I were happy, just the two of us. We felt bad for you when your parents died, and he wanted to be there for you. How could he have known you would take over every aspect of our lives? When your career replaced our dreams, I hated you. I hated your parents and I hated the fucking pilot. I watched my husband struggle to keep up with the demands of your career. He knew we couldn’t replace your parents, so he thought he had to work harder to prove himself. When he became ill, I begged him to stop. I begged him to send you to Germany before he worked himself into an early grave. And when he died, I knew I would never forgive you.”
I listen as Carina blames me for the death of my uncle and all the misfortunes of her life. And I didn’t flinch when she confessed her hatred. However, when she fires the gun, before I’m able to reach Olivia, my heart stops beating.
Olivia slumps over, moaning around the ball gag. Her black T-shirt deceives me, hiding the blood flowing from her chest. With lightning speed, I remove the ball gag, blindfold and handcuffs.
“Don’t leave me, Sunshine.” I repeat again and again.
Sprinting to the bathroom, I grab a towel to apply pressure to her wound.
“Keep your hand here, Sunshine.” I instruct.
“Okay.” Olivia’s raspy voice is music to my ears.
Placing her hand over her chest, Olivia presses the towel firmly over the wound. She manages to hold it in place for a few seconds before passing out.
“Now you’ll know what it actually feels like to lose everything.”
Moments later a second shot rings out and Carina falls to the floor. I spare a glance at her lifeless body, turning away when vacant eyes stare back at me.
Lifting Olivia into my arms, I hurry down the stairs to the garage. Once I’ve secured Olivia’s seatbelt, I climb behind the wheel of the nearest car, Olivia’s Mercedes. On route to the hospital I call emergency service to report the shootings. I also call my attorney, insisting that he meet me at the hospital.
Traffic violations pile up as I race to the nearest hospital. Offering up a prayer to whatever higher power is listening, I beg them not to take Olivia from me. She fills the emptiness I've felt for most of my life. She’s the salvation for all my sins. I can’t lose her now.
Bringing the car to a screeching halt, I jump out to lift Olivia from the passenger seat. Medical personnel dash toward me as I make my way to the emergency entrance.
“She’s been shot in the upper left chest,” I hastily relay. “And she’s been unconscious for about fifteen minutes.”
The doctor does a quick on the spot examination of Olivia’s injury.
“There’s no exit wound. The bullet is still lodged inside her chest.”
A gurney seems to appear out of thin air. The doctors race past the emergency room reception to an unauthorized area.
“Sir.‘ A young woman calls out to me. “You can’t go back there.”
I pause, defeated by my utter uselessness.
“What can I do?”
The happiness I felt hours ago gives way to the pain strangling me and I don’t recognize my own voice.
“You can start by giving me as much information about her as you can. And if you’re up to it you can donate blood.”
Nodding, I accept my limitations.
I’m on my way to donate blood when my attorney arrives, and I corral him into doing the same. The police are there to greet us when we return to the waiting area.
“Mr. Wolff. I’m Homicide Detective Thomas Eastman.”
What are the fucking odds, another Eastman here to rattle my cage? The resemblance is uncanny, there’s no mistaking the familial connection.
“Any relation to Kyle Eastman?” I question.
“He’s my younger brother and your ex-employee, if memory serves.”
“How can we help you, Detective Eastman?” Rush interjects.
“And you are?” Eastman queries.
“Deacon Rush, from the law office of Gannon, Hewlett and Rush. I’m Mr. Wolff’s attorney.”
Rush gives Eastman his business card and he examines it before tucking it in his notepad. We take a seat and I recount the events leading up to tonight’s shootings. I began with seven months ago when Dr. Jamison reached out to me.
“Carina was institutionalized for seven months. In that time, she requested visitations from me. I refused.”
“Why did you refuse to visit your uncle’s widow?”
I take a deep cleansing breath, think of Olivia, and how much I want a future with her, a future with no secrets hiding in the darkness. Releasing the polluted air clears my mind of the guilt and shame I’ve felt for over a decade.
“After my uncle passed away, Carina Channing was my sole guardian. After a few months she became physically abusive. The sexual abuse started three years later.”
Both men stare at me. Ignoring the sympathy, I see in their eyes, I continue with my statement. I don’t go into details regarding the nature of my sexual experience with Carina, but I’m sure Detective Eastman has drawn his own conclusion based on the evidence collected at the beach house. After Detective Eastman finishes taking my statement, I’m left alone with my attorney. Rush remains professional and detached as always, all signs of pity erased.
“I need to call Olivia’s family,” I announce, striding away from Rush.
I find a private alcove at the end of the corridor. Ducking inside, I place a call to Julian Frost, Olivia’s older brother. It’s after midnight in New York, so I use her phone to ensure he recognizes the number. He answers on the second ring.
“What’s up, Livie?”
“This is Dorian Wolff, I’m...” I pause unsure how to introduce myself.
“I know who you are, Wolff. What’s happened to my sister?”
“She’s been shot.”
The line is silent for what feels like a lifetime. When Frost finally speaks, he asks just one question.”
“Where is she?”
I provide him with the hospital’s name and address. He ends the call and I make my way back to the waiting area.
Frost arrives at the hospital nearly four hours after my call. Standing a little over six feet, he is slightly shorter than me. His stature fills the doorway of Olivia’s private room. He makes his way to her bedside, followed by a woman who is undoubtedly his mother. She extends her hand to me in greeting.
“I’m Julia Frost, this is my son Julian.” She tilts her head toward Frost, who is sitting stoically at his sister’s bedside.
“It’s a pleasure to me you Mrs. Frost. I only wish it were under better conditions.”
“Please call me Julia.”
“The police report says, she was shot at your home.” Frost says, turning his attention my way.
His eyes hold no judgement, but his unspoken words mirror my own.
Don’t fuck with me.
It doesn’t surprise me that he’s already gotten his hands on the police report. If she were my sister, I would have done the same. I can’t imagine any brother being pleased with his sister being held against her will and shot under any circumstances. Considering he knows what was used to subdue Olivia, I suppose he’s handling it quite well.
Sensing the growing tension in the room Julia tries to intervene.
“The doctor says, she’s going to make a full recovery.”
Frost stands abruptly, glaring daggers at me.
“I don’t give a fuck, what you’re into Wolff. But if any more shit from your past comes back to hurt my sister, I guaranfuckingtee you won’t like my next visit.”
“Julian.’ Olivia whispers. “It’s not his fault.”
Olivia offers her brother her right hand and Frost is back at her side again.
“I’m okay,” Olivia attempts to reassure her brother. “What happened wasn’t Dorian’s fault.”
Frost kisses her hand, before extending his left hand to his mother. I feel like an intruder, witnessing a family’s private moment. The reality of what happened to Olivia catches up to me, forcing me to accept the truth. All I want to do is take her home, take care of her and show her how much I truly love her. Make her my family.
“Dorian; come sit with me.” Her voice is weak and her icy blue eyes are pleading.
I take a seat on her left, directly across from Frost. The coldness in his stare reveals how deeply he cares for Olivia.
“Where’s Carina?” Olivia asks. “Did she get away?”
“No, she didn’t, and she will never hurt anyone else.”
Olivia’s eyes fill with understanding, releasing a single tear. I wipe it away before it slides down her cheek.
“Don’t shed any tears for her.”
“How are you feeling, Livie?” Julia’s concern is evident, her once steady voice quivers slightly.
“I’ve been better.” Shrugging her shoulder, causes Olivia to wince in pain.
“And you will be again,” Frost assures her.
Julia yawns and it’s contagious, before it can be stopped, it spreads from person to person.
“You should all go get some rest,” Olivia insists. “I’ll be okay for a few hours without you.”
Frost seems determined to stay, until Olivia points out the Julia needs him too.
“Take care of Julia, then come back to see me once you’re both rested.”
They give Olivia a kiss, before Frost exits the room with his mother.
“That means you too.”
I don’t argue with her, because I know my time will be better spent preparing for her homecoming rather than watching her sleep. Leaning down, I kiss her gently.
“See you soon, Sunshine.” I whisper against her lips.
It’s after three in the morning when I reach the beach house. This time, to my surprise Winston is there to greet me. I assumed he would be resting. Detective Eastman told me; Winston was found in the guest house, handcuffed with duct tape around his mouth and ankles. Winston identified Carina as the woman who held him at gunpoint to gain access to my home.
“How is Miss Frost?”
Winston rarely asks me about my personal life. In the ten years he’s worked for me. I can count on one hand the number of times he’s done so.
“She’s going to be fine. She’ll make a full recovery.”
“I’m pleased to hear it, sir.”
“How are you feeling ,Winston?”
“She only hurt my pride, sir.”
I nod, understanding that a man’s pride has as much value as his loyalty.
“Before Olivia returns, I want to make a few changes.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“I want everything in the master bedroom gone. Starting with that blood-stained rug.”
“By everything do you mean the bedding and accessories or...”
“Everything.” I interrupt. “Clean slate, less masculine. I want more feminine touches. I want the master suite to represent a shared space.”
Winston smiles infectiously. He grabs the iPad from the kitchen work area and begins jotting down notes.
“How soon, sir?”
“Three days.”
“I’ll get started right away, sir.”
Winston leaves the kitchen and I make my way upstairs to my bedroom. The police have released the area as a crime scene, but I still feel the ghost of Carina’s last desperate act of hatred. Vanquishing her spirit once and for all starts with overhauling this room. Repairing myself is next.
I’m back at the hospital five hours later. This time it’s to meet with Dr. Helena Deed. She has agreed to see me before office hours, which I’m extremely grateful for. Dr. Deed was the only adult to recognize that my relationship with Carina wasn’t as it appeared. She made numerous attempts to help me after the physical abuse began, but fear kept me from confiding in her.
Standing outside the office of Dr. Helena Deed, Child Psychiatrist, I tap once before opening the door.
“Dorian,” She greets warmly. “It’s good to see you again.”
“I’m glad you could see me on such short notice. Considering, I’m not your typical patient.”
“I made you a promise all those years ago and I always honor my promises.”
The memory of her promise to a scared and lonely twelve-year-old reassures me of her commitment.
‘If you ever want to talk, I will listen.’
“I’m ready to talk.”
“Make yourself comfortable.”
Taking a seat on the couch in her office, I confirm what she has always suspected. The more
I reveal the secrets of my past, the less power they hold over me. First with Olivia, the police and now Dr. Deed.
“Healing doesn't mean the pain never existed. It means the pain no longer controls your life.” Dr. Deed’s parting words fill me with encouragement.
My first session comes to an end and all I want now is to see Olivia.