See Through Me Ch. 14

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joodle
joodle
545 Followers

"He called me names. He took me, roughly. He made me go down on him. He made me submit to him. He made me admit that I wanted him. He whipped me. He fucking tore up two of my dresses!"

Michael looked utterly horrified, and I was equally such, but for a different reason.

I was terrified of being judged, and rejected.

"I don't expect you to understand. I don't think anyone would understand," I babbled. Michael pulled me to him again, where I buried my face in his shoulder, trying to will my tears away.

There was a long silence, and I decided it was time to leave. I couldn't possibly face Michael again, and it killed me. He was one of my best friends, not to mention my only friend at work. As I moved to leave, Michael held firm, keeping me in place. Damn it. Couldn't he just let this go? He would never understand.

"Kate, I understand more than you might think. Do you think my dad was overjoyed the day I told him I was gay? Hell no! He shut down. My mother cried, and most of my friends rejected me. I felt more alone than I ever could have anticipated."

Pushing free of his embrace, I sat in stunned silence as Michael went on. His eyes lowered, and I realized that his tight hold on me may have been more for his sake than mine.

"I knew there were people out there like me, but when it came to those I surrounded myself with every day, I was different. Too different. No one understood. This was before your time Kate, before same-sex relationships were socially accepted. I hated myself for how I was...for what I was. I was consumed every day by the pressure to be "normal". And God help me, I tried. I tried for years and years. I thought about killing myself. I thought about running away and changing my name. But eventually I realized that it really doesn't matter what other people think. Nothing matters but what's in here," Michael gestured to his chest.

By now, I had tears running down my cheeks. I could see that Michael was getting a little choked up as well, but he was keeping it together, probably for my sake.

"I'm so sorry Kate. You don't owe me an explanation," he continued, shaking his head. "You don't owe anyone an explanation. If someone rejects or judges you for who you are, or what you like, they are not your friend. Period. Kate, you are a beautiful, wonderful girl, and personally I don't give a shit what you prefer under the sheets. I don't give a shit what your natural hair color is, or what car you drive. I don't care about those things, because they have nothing to do with how beautiful you are inside. They have nothing to do with how good of a friend you are to me. Sweetie, if you are lucky enough to find someone who loves you for all that you are, who encourages you to express all that is in you, and you feel the same for them, honey that is worth some risk," he paused.

"But not the risk of your health. Be straight with me, Kate. Is Joe putting you in harm's way?" Michael asked, genuine concern in his eyes.

I considered the question, replaying the past nights' events in my mind. There were several occasions when Joe had inflicted pain on me, but nothing crippling. Nothing that really hurt me. It seemed, in hindsight, that much of what he did was just for effect. And God, did it work. He made me believe in the moment that he was going to hurt me. That he was going to devour me. He put fear in me, and in the process gave me a thrill that I knew could never be matched by another. And here I was, alive and uninjured. Never mind the fact that I might be pregnant with his child. I didn't have it in me to broach that topic.

"No," I answered.

"Hmmm," Michael muttered. "So Joe likes it rough. A lot of men like it rough. And a lot of women like it rougher. Did you see Fifty Shades of Grey?" he asked, more casually than I expected. I shook my head.

"No? Well I did, and while it wasn't totally my cup of tea, I know a lot of girls, and guys, that just loved it."

I nodded, still staring into my lap.

"Like I said sweetie, I just want you to be safe. A lot of people are into rough sex, even role-play and stuff like that. But in your case, it might be more difficult to tell 'rough sex' from 'abuse'. It sounds like you enjoy the pain, which is fine, but you need to be extra careful. Pay attention to how he treats you when you are not, you know, having sex or whatever. If he treats you nicely and respectfully, like you deserve, then maybe this is worth exploring," Michael suggested.

I was amazed at how knowledgeable Michael was, and most of all, that he didn't judge me.

"Thank you Michael," I gushed. "I can't even express how much better I feel from everything you've said. Thank you for sharing your story with me," I smiled.

"I don't think I'm in danger per se, just a little scared. But it seems to increase the pleasure when I am, and Joe seems to know that. He just seems to know what will make me go crazy. I don't know. He is scary sometimes, and tender in others," I said softly, shaking my head.

"Hmmm. It does sound a little weird, I gotta admit. But I can't judge. No one should judge. Just tell me immediately if you start to feel like it's getting to be too much, okay? And talk to Joe. Ask him what his intentions are. You are not a doll, subject to his whims. If he doesn't directly acknowledge that, then you need to run. Come and get me, and I will make sure he stays away. Promise me," Michael gripped my hand, and made me look at him.

Somehow I doubted that Michael could protect me from Joe, even if I asked, but I nodded anyway. "I promise."

Michael pulled me to him, and kissed me on the head with a "Good girl."

Thankfully I didn't go to pieces right then. Joe's habit of calling me 'good girl' had forever scarred me. I craved it. From him.

"Now what do you say we get some fucking breakfast already?" Michael prompted.

"Sounds good!" I smiled, thankful we could move on from this painful conversation.

----

It felt like a blow to my gut when she walked out the door. I sensed that she would probably come back, but she shouldn't. I was bad news, and I knew it. I would not have blamed her if she ran. And I might very well let her. I was a mess of emotions.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

Trying to get my shit together, I decided to contact Curt, and tell him I would be out of the office another week. Whether or not she came home with me, I would need the time off. If she didn't, I would probably need a few days to drink myself silly, and more time to become sober enough to work.

After sending what I admitted was a rather cryptic email, I sat back and wondered what the fuck to do with myself for the next two hours. I had to keep busy.

Even though I was no longer hungry, I called room service for a muffin, and made myself some coffee.

I sat out on the balcony and pondered what to do with Kate. I knew there was some wooing to be done, but I had never really had to put in the effort before. I had never felt compelled to make the effort. Well, not since...

I quickly pushed away that train of thought, and frowned in concentration. It took me a full ten minutes, and half a cup of coffee, to notice that we were docked. A shore excursion! I had denied Kate the last one, and this might be the perfect opportunity to repent and win her lasting affection.

I abandoned my coffee and hustled back inside. Sifting through the literature that came with the room, I tried to determine where we were and what we could do. Apparently this was Freeport, and there were a bunch of options. I had only a couple hours to plan and I was at a loss. I was a planner by nature, but romantic getaways were not my specialty.

I was startled out of my panic by room service knocking firmly at the door. My breakfast was here, though I doubted I could stomach it. I greeted Carlos, and as soon as he had brought in the tray, I asked if he had recommendations on what to do in Freeport.

Carlos explained that it was getting late in the morning for some of the activities, and some you had to book in advance. This was not what I needed to hear, and he must have seen the look of frustration on my face, because he quickly suggested that I visit Taino Beach. No reservations required, and there were some quieter spots where we could hang out and lounge in the sun. He also recommended a small restaurant-bar a couple miles up the beach. That sounded perfect, so I thanked him and gave him a good tip.

Just as he began to depart, I asked if he could send over housekeeping to do a quick room cleaning. He nodded and I knew he would make it happen. It really helped to give nice tips.

I scarfed down my muffin and finished my coffee before jumping in the shower and shaving. I had just finished when our maid Maria showed up. Perfect timing.

"Buenos dias mamas, como estas?" I greeted.

Maria gave her usual shy smile, and replied, "Bien senor."

I asked that she clean and neaten up if possible, and have the watermelon dress sent out for dry cleaning, ready by this evening. She nodded immediately, and set about her work.

"Aqui mamas," I stopped her and gave her a generous tip, thanking her for supplying me with such beautiful dresses.

She blushed again.

"No problema senor," she replied, eyes down.

"Otra, muchos gracias," I smiled warmly, before leaving her to her tasks.

Now what the hell to do?

Unable to come up with anything more creative, I decided to take a walk. Riding the elevator up to the shops, I meandered about the ship, glad that most passengers were ashore and I could wander in peace. Shaking my head, I cursed my lone wolf personality. I needed to snap out of it if I expected to win Kate over.

I walked past a number of seemingly random shops. There was even an art gallery. Kate would probably enjoy that, I thought. Right now though, nothing interested me enough to draw me inside, until I caught a glimpse of a large, glistening pendant in the jeweler's window. It was some type of stone, light pink, in a teardrop shape about the size of a quarter. It was beautiful, and had an innocent, delicate look about it. Not over-dramatic. It was Kate.

I strode into the jeweler's boutique, and inquired after the pendant. The sales lady was older, and seemed to know her stuff. After obtaining the pendant and bringing it over for me to examine, she gave me a spiel on the relevance of the stone. Apparently it was rose quartz, and while I was eager to get it wrapped and get out, the lady's description of the stone's significance began to interest me.

It was, in essence, a love stone. A holistic stone that acts as a catalyst, encouraging the giving and receiving of love, and when applicable, the healing of a broken heart. And as mushy as this lady's spiel was, I had to admit, it affected me. It reminded me of Kate, and how she had compromised the thick walls around my heart in such a short period of time.

After selecting a thin gold chain, I thanked the lady, and asked her to gift wrap it for me. She told me it would take her about fifteen minutes, and that I could come back in a while if I didn't want to wait.

Taking advantage of her offer, I decided to run over to the gift shop and see if there was anything that would come in handy when I took Kate to the beach.

I was crossing the corridor towards the gift shop when I heard a familiar female voice. It was muffled, but noticeably upset. And I shuddered when I realized I had heard the same upset voice far too many times before. In my peripheral, I saw her pink sundress and blonde hair, and before I was noticed, ducked into the shadows. I could see her, and a man. He was holding her, obviously trying to soothe her. The man seemed non-threatening, thank Christ, so I was not immediately compelled to storm over and rip her free of his embrace. I knew she was upset about me. She must have told him. When I saw her start to sit up, I hurried into the gift shop.

Strangely, I was not bothered by the fact that she had probably told her friend the whole story, exposing me for the bastard I was, and very likely resulting in my incarceration. I was more concerned by the prospect that she would not be returning to me, and our relationship would cease to exist, in any form. I felt my heart begin to blacken again, but decided to forge ahead, sticking to the plan. I purchased a couple of beach towels, sunglasses, and some other shit. I was pretty much on auto-pilot at that point, filled with a stomach wrenching blend of guilt and dread. The salesperson said not a word, probably unnerved by what I could only assume was a death-like expression on my face.

When I exited the gift shop to go pick up Kate's pendant, I saw that she and her friend were gone. Gone. I refused to think any further on it, and stormed over to the jeweler, my mood now as grim as I could remember.

Not wanting to frighten the sales lady, I composed myself just before entering. I gave her my credit card and thanked her for wrapping the box so nicely before she placed it in a gold shopping bag with tissue paper. Thank Christ for good service. I really didn't need much to tip me over the edge.

Despite the now hilariously minimal chance of Kate's return, I wanted to be ready for her, and I hurried back to the suite. The room was spotless, and I couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.

Now for the part of my plan that was not so pleasant...for me. Pulling Kate's new necklace from the bag, I set it to the side, and dug through my suitcase until I found her phone and wallet.

With a sigh of dread, I placed both into the gold gift bag. This "gift" was my worst-case scenario. I was not going to kidnap Kate. I wanted her desperately, but I wanted her willing. I had thought that I could win her over, and everything would be fine, and I might well do just that, what with my plans for the day, but I wasn't going to rule out the possibility that Kate was not all-in on this relationship. It killed me to consider it, but she might still resist when I told her I was taking her home with me. And I cared for her. I cared for her. It was such a fucking contradiction, our relationship. I had raped her. She had loved it. I was claiming her. She had me at her fucking mercy, whether she knew it or not.

Shaking my head, I stuck the gift bag on the top shelf of the closet. It was too high up for Kate to see easily, but I shut the closet door just in case.

Checking the time, I saw it was now just five til, and I struggled to keep my cool. That small bottle of Jack in the mini bar was very tempting, but I couldn't risk it. I was treading a fine line already, teetering between fear and rage.

I couldn't bring myself to do anything but sit on the sofa and watch the clock. Four til. Three til. Two til. One...

Nothing...nothing...nothing...

So she was running a few minutes late. I could understand that. Despite how rigid my standards had been with Kate thus far, I could relate to occasional tardiness. It was no big deal. I was just nervous. Watching the clock was almost never a good idea.

Ten minutes passed, and I began pacing. I contemplated going out on the balcony to relax, but I feared that the thick sound of the ocean would drown out her knock at the door. God, was she coming? My heart felt like fucking concrete. My stomach lurched. It was the most God-awful feeling. She wasn't coming.

She wasn't coming.

I wanted to fucking vomit. My vision blurred a bit, and I realized I was holding my breath. Breathe in...breathe out... I told myself. Checking the clock again, I saw that it was eleven o'clock. Twenty minutes past when she should be back.

I held out another ten minutes before I accepted that she wasn't coming. God I really needed that drink. I needed to calm down. Fuck it. I stomped over to the mini bar, grabbed the pathetically tiny bottle of Jack and downed it. The burn was welcome but far from enough to quench my desire for Kate.

After a few deep breaths, I splashed some water on my face and sat down to think. Should I go after her? Should I scour the ship again to find a woman who didn't want me? Would never want me?

The thought that Kate would never want me tested my sanity, and though I felt unstable at best, I knew I had to find her. Try once more to win her over. This time with a gentler hand. But gentle wasn't something that came very naturally to me. How would I treat her gently and have it not be a lie? Bastard though I was, at least I was always direct. Kate was direct too. That was one thing I loved about her. Loved? Fuck...

Scowling in frustration, I seriously considered hurling a coffee mug into a wall, then thought better of it and prepared to leave.

After gathering my room key and wallet, I headed to the fucking elevator. That fucking elevator represented both bliss and hell. It seemed to vary by the hour, but I hated it right now. I hated the world right now. Nothing would put me at ease, nothing would make things right, until Kate was back in my arms, permanently.

I pushed the fucking button to go up, and waited impatiently. I seriously considered taking the stairs, as my patience wore dangerously thin, when the elevator doors parted.

And there she was. A freight train rushed through my gut, and my knees went a bit weak at seeing her. Kate looked terrified. I must have looked livid. God knows I was. I was furious that she was so late, annoyed that I cared that she was late, and struggling to harness the very last threads of my control.

Kate backed away, but not before pushing what I assumed was the 'door close' button in a panicked attempt to escape me. The doors began to close, and I felt the beast in me take over. I lunged forward.

----

Michael and I did our best to enjoy breakfast. We were still a bit rattled from our conversation about Joe. I felt much better now, having gotten it all out in the open. Well, not ALL. There were certain intimate details that I didn't think I would ever share with anyone, ever. But I had gotten enough off of my chest for me to feel a little better, and a little more secure about how to proceed with Joe.

Michael was right. I just needed to ask Joe what his intentions were. The only problem with that was the possibility that he would give me the news I least wanted to hear. That this was all a game. A fling. A next-level kinky roll in the hay. I found that very hard to believe from the way Joe had behaved...the way he was so determined that I would carry his child. The way he told me I was his. The way he had uttered the word "love," however out of context it may have been.

I managed to eat half an omelet before I forfeited the other half to Michael. My nerves were just too wracked. But no longer was this from fear of Joe. It was the fear of losing Joe. God help me, I couldn't say why. It went against all reason. Michael knew that. I knew that. I also feared that I would lose Michael's respect. He seemed to understand about my desires and how Joe and I related in that regard, but I still felt embarrassed.

It was enough to have been confronted with the darkest inner desires I had harbored for over a decade in a period of one day, but to confess those perversities to someone...normal...was truly mind-boggling. It had been extremely difficult to confess them to Joe, but at least he understood. He had already known, just by looking at me.

I remembered the way he looked at me three days ago, and the way he looked at me just before I left to see Michael. There was a distinct difference.

That first night, when Joe had forced me up against his cabin door, I had seen the evil in him. He was a demon, splitting me open, exposing all my most torrid desires and crushing me into submission. No remorse and no mercy.

The look in Joe's eyes when I had left the room this morning held sadness, regret, and insecurity. He wanted me. Not just as a toy, but as his woman. He had to.

joodle
joodle
545 Followers