Текст книги "Suit"

Автор книги: Jettie Woodruff

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

Chapter Seven

 

 

Day after day, I got a little better. And day after day, I didn’t remember. I remembered things, incidents, and voices. My mother’s and Izzy’s. I remembered them, but nothing else. I remembered traveling through the mountains on a train with a hobo named Boo. Izzy and I loved him. He played the harmonica while my mom danced around the car with us. He even shared a bag of plain potato chips with us. My favorite. I remembered that trip to Maine, too. Izzy and I climbed huge boulders, probably higher than the billboard.

I learned a lot by asking the girls questions when Paxton wasn’t home. When they weren’t out running around doing everything under the sun, we got to know each other. I hung on their every move, and I fell madly, deeply in love with them. Both of them.

I spent a lot of time alone while they were away being busy, but come Saturday, Paxton made me go to their tee-ball game. I didn’t mind. Other than him taking me to the doctor, I hadn’t been anywhere. Not even for a walk along the beach. I couldn’t wait to do that.

“Let’s go. We have a busy day today,” I heard from a dead sleep. Paxton pulled the curtains apart and sun poured into the bright room. My eyes squinted and looked to the clock. Seven thirty. Tee-ball games didn’t happen at the butt crack of dawn.

I rubbed my face and sat up, noticing for the first time I did it with ease. No sharp pains or sore muscles. “Have I always let you tell me what I’m doing?”

“Yes, from day one,” he admitted with arched eyebrows, strolling toward me. He put his hand on my chest and pushed me backward, forcing me to the bed. The covers were thrown off and the belt combination unlocked. Routine. Every morning before I could even go to the bathroom, Paxton had to remove my guard diaper. I had no wetness like the night before when he’d spread me open and guided one finger up my slit. Still, he did it. Every morning.

I rolled my eyes and mentally shook my head, annoyed. “I have to pee.”

Not that I needed his assistance anymore, but Paxton helped me to my feet and followed me.

“I’d like for you to start doing things around here again. You can start small, but I can’t do it all, and I’m not paying Tricia to do it anymore. You can drive the girls. You can cook from now on.”

“I cook?”

“Of course you cook. You think you have all this for the hell of it?” Paxton questioned with a harsh tone, making a sweeping motion with his hand. Yes. The house was nice. Very lovely, but it wasn’t a mansion by any means. It was an upper– to middle-class home, maybe. He could shove it all up his ass.

Paxton picked up my toothbrush and brushed his teeth. That didn’t bother me at all. Why would it? He’d just left his poison my mouth the night before. It wasn’t like I was going to catch something from him. Evidently, I had been stupid in my past life.

The sudden flash behind my eyes kept me from speaking for a second. Paxton’s words floated through my ears, but I didn’t hear him. A room with thin, yellow sheers. They hung in front of glass doors and blew lightly in the wind.

“Did you hear me?” Paxton asked in the same angry tone.

What the hell?

“Huh?”

“The house. I just said it was bad enough that I had to pay someone to come in and clean for us. You need to start helping out around here. I don’t need you if you can’t carry your load.”

Without the crutches, I limped toward him. The new boot I’d gotten from the doctor the last time helped a lot. At least I didn’t have a stiff leg anymore. He wanted me to start moving my knee and begin therapy the following Monday.

“I think I carry the load just fine. Never mind the head injury. I don’t know how to cook.” I scoffed, clenched my jaw, and glared at him.

“You have a tablet. Find a recipe, and watch it, or you’ll be holding a load before we leave.” His words were laced with a threat even as his soft lips touched mine. The discovery tested me—how much of my adaptability to Paxton’s bullshit could I endure? One second he would belittle me, and the next he’d have his tongue halfway down my throat. He wouldn’t help me at all. I couldn’t ask him anything about who I’d been before. I got the same thing. Tell me where you were, who you were with, and where you were going. I couldn’t tell him that. I didn’t freaking know.

My girls and my neighbors could help to a certain point, but they didn’t know us. Not the real us. They knew a façade. Something that wasn’t real. An illusion. They weren’t there from the beginning. Trisha was my only friend, or neighbor. I wouldn’t call her a friend just yet. I didn’t know if we really did have that status. She said we were friends, and that’s all I had to go on.

“I’m not sure you want me cooking for you, or anyone else. I feel like you kidnapped me and you’re trying to give me this life that’s not really mine. I don’t feel like the type to be controlled.”

Paxton placed a finger over my lips and shushed me with a quiet, “Shhh, hush now. I assure you with everything in me that you are the type to be controlled. That’s why you sucked my dick. That’s why your legs fall apart whenever I come near you. You’re a slut. My slut. I own you,” he said in a dry, sultry tone, fingers gliding down my neck. The arid swallow stuck in my chest when his fingers wrapped gently around my throat. His grip tightened and his lips met mine. “Shhh, don’t talk, baby girl. Turn around and go take a shower like you were told.”

A cowardly emotion washed through me. I dropped my gaze to stare at the floor and submit to him. This was quickly learned, as well. If Paxton didn’t get in the shower with me, he took on the role of spectator. Like this time. He leaned against the counter, feet crossed at the ankles, and stared while I struggled to get my shirt over my head. He stopped me with another order when I bent to remove the boot from my foot.

“Turn around and do that.”

“Seriously?”

Before I could blink an eye, Paxton thrust his fury in my face. Flared nostrils and popping veins. I gasped when he pulled the hair at the nape of my neck with a tight jerk.

“You need to stop, Gabriella. You don’t talk. You shut your fuckhole and do what you’re told. Do you understand me?”

I tried to falter, to back down. But I couldn’t do it. I honestly thought he had me confused with someone else. This wasn’t my life. It couldn’t be. No way would anyone in their right mind put up with this guy.

“And what if I don’t?”

Paxton suddenly let go of me and backed away. “Then go. Walk out that front door and go.” He gestured toward the door while I just stood there. My eyes shifted to his serious, stern face, then to the door.

“Where the hell would I go? You won’t tell me anything about anything. Where are my parents? My sister? I know I have a sister. You want me to remember, but you won’t help me to remember. I’m not your property. You can’t own people,” I countered right back. I couldn’t help it. He was impossible.

Weariness crossed his forehead in two lines, just above his strained eyebrows, the same two I’d seen many times now.

“You wanted this. You knew what I expected before you ever agreed to any of this. You wanted it, too. Now you think you can just come in here and change the rules. It’s my fucking game. Either play my way, or get the fuck out.”

“Why is it so hard to talk to me, Paxton?”

“Tell me where you were and I’ll tell you everything you want to know,” he responded, tone lowered to an uncharacteristic calmness.

I clamped my eyes shut with a deep sigh. Back to square one. It was hopeless. Paxton wore blinders. Blinders that he would never take off. Not for me, anyway. I was forced to go by his arbitrary rules. No rhyme or reason. Just because. Because Paxton said so.

With my hips cocked to the side and a fuck you glare, I spun out of his arms and bent at the waist. I slowly peeled the Velcro away. You want a submissive, you fucker…? There you go.

I took my good old time, ass in the air, purposely exposing all. The sound of Velcro being pulled apart amplified like a scratch in the air with the next strap. Inch by deliberate inch, I peeled it away. Once I had nothing else to occupy my time with, I stood, again, taking my time. I may have even arched my back a little a little for show.

I flipped my hair over my shoulder with a jerk and glared back at him, expecting to find him glowering at me. Nope. Not even close. Paxton had his feet spread apart and his arms crossed, wearing a smile. He was amused. I amused him. His hand went to his crotch and he grabbed himself as he stepped toward me. Again, he didn’t do what I expected. The muscles in my neck had already contracted, waiting defensively for his hand.

That was the first spanking—that I remembered, anyway. I wasn’t expecting it with the way he’d positioned his body. His chest pressed to my left shoulder and his hand met my ass with a loud crack. My body reacted with a jolt. “Keep it up. I have an idea for later,” he said as a threat, lips touching my throat.

My heart pounded in fast beats while my mind tried to catch up. Paxton’s hand soothed the sting on my ass with gentle strokes. I did nothing. I said nothing. I felt nothing. Dumbfounded, I didn’t know how to react.

“Later?” I blurted it like a croak, and I don’t even know where it came from. I hadn’t even been thinking it.

“Yes, later. We have to go to Lane and Candace’s first.”

“Oh.” Again, that’s all I could think of “Can I take a shower now?”

“You asked. Good girl. That makes me happy, and my dick hard all at the same time. I think I’ll fuck you later,” he whispered as he murmured hot words against my neck and then my lips.

He yanked my naked body to his, one hand in the center of my back and one over the faint sting on my ass. I sort of melted into him with a kiss. I didn’t mean for it to get emotional. It just happened. I relaxed into him, pressing my chest into him, while my hand slid slowly up his arm. Paxton took two steps, slamming me against the shower wall. His kiss was desperate, animalistic.

I didn’t know what to think. My head spun in circles while emotions took over my body. Feelings that I didn’t like. That I didn’t want.

The more desperation that came from Paxton, the more it saturated me. Passion ignited, exploded in my core. My body liquefied erotically into his, and I tilted my head, begging for more. His lips fervently ran down my throat and sucked.

But just like that, he stopped.

Paxton raised his gaze with a stunned look, like he was dumfounded for a second.

“Get ready,” he ordered hoarsely. Paxton cleared his throat and stalked away.

I stared after him, feeling more confused than he looked. What the hell just happened? I felt—ambushed.

I used my shower time to reflect on the fire that had seared between us briefly. Something euphoric and intoxicating. Not just lust. It was more than that. It sort of made me feel like the Dilaudid did in the hospital. Light and floaty. My fingers gently ran over the scar on the back of my head as I contemplated what just happened.

I breathed hot steam deep into my lungs and sighed heavily, switching thoughts. I would revisit that one later when I could wrap my head around it. I moved to my dream—the billboard high off the ground with my mom and my sister, and the room with the yellow curtains. Where was that? Where was my mother and my sister? They were real. That was a real memory. That much I knew without a doubt. What I didn’t know was why nobody else seemed to know them, or anything about them. Why?

Paxton was gone when I emerged wrapped in a towel. I blew out a puff of air when I saw my clothes laid out on the bed. The man had to be in control of everything. Without my boot, I hobbled to the bed. My finger traced the dainty panties made out of mostly string while I thought about his choice in clothes. It wasn’t that he had bad taste. I liked the outfit just fine. White shorts with a red top. One pink flip-flop to match my blue boot. The thing that bothered me was him laying them out. Why? Was he on that high of a power trip?

I dressed in front of the glass doors. The ocean sprawled in the distance below a bright-blue sky. I felt good for the first time since I hadn’t remembered who I was. Not mentally. Just physically. The pain seemed to have subsided in my hip, I could walk without crutches, and I hadn’t had a pain pill in over twelve hours. I didn’t even feel like I needed it. Now if my mind would follow suit and catch up, I’d have something to talk about.

I blow-dried my hair in front of the vanity in my bathroom and pulled back the sides with a twist and a clip. After I curled the two pieces that I’d purposely pulled out, I painted my nails a pale red, a duller shade than my shirt. I liked being a girly girl. I liked feeling pretty. For a brief second, I sensed I was being watched, like I wasn’t supposed to snoop in someone else’s things. Not mine. Expensive makeup was neatly arranged in the middle drawer, everything in its place. Lipstick and eyeshadow in every color, blushes of rubies and reds, foundation in every shade of the seasons. Any girl’s dream.

I topped off my look with red lips. I tried pink first, but it clashed too much with my shirt. The red wasn’t bright, more like magenta. A hint of purple. I slipped my foot into the bulky boot and checked myself in the mirror. Other than a tiny scar above my left eye, the scar wrapping around my knee, and the stupid boot, I looked fine. Actually, I looked hot. The high-class bra that I chose did wonders for my cleavage. Tucking the tail of my shirt in helped with that, too, tightening the thin material.

“A belt,” I called to my reflection. I walked to my closet with something thin and sparkly in mind. My weight shifted from my sore leg and my fingers grazed the few belts. Humph, I didn’t like belts. I didn’t have much to choose from. Nothing that I had in mind, anyway. An idea hit me and I flicked my gaze toward the dresses. “Ouch,” I said, grimacing from the sudden pain in my neck. After a moment of searching, my gaze located the perfect dress. A strapless one.

The smell of bacon tickled my nose as soon as I opened my door. I knew for sure that I didn’t like meat. The stench irritated my stomach, and for a moment I thought I might need to turn around and go back to the bathroom. The opened door on my right kept me from it. Rowan’s room. I curved up my lips in an instant smile, but only for a second. Her bed was unmade and empty. The giggling from the next room brought back my smile.

I peeked my head in first, seeing them both below the polka-dotted comforter, laughing with a stuffed giraffe.

“Good morning, girlies.”

Rowan and Ophelia quieted and turned to me. “You look pretty, Mommy,” Rowan commented.

“Ahhh, thank you, baby,” I said as I lumbered toward them.

“I like your lips,” Ophelia also complimented.

“Thanks, Phi. You girls ready to hit some home runs?” I asked as I sat on the edge of the queen-sized bed. Lucky girls. I never had a bed until I moved in with Mrs. Porter.

Wait. What? Who the hell’s Mrs. Porter?

“I’m going to hit a ball in the hole.”

“Oh, yeah, youth golf,” I said while my hand brushed a lock of hair over her shoulder. I was irrevocably in love. “Let’s go brush our teeth, so we can get ready. Daddy’s making breakfast.”

“I don’t like Daddy’s breakfast,” Rowan admitted.

I giggled and patted her leg. “I’m not sure I’m any better,” I confessed.

“Yes, you are,” Ophelia assured me with a bobbing head. “You’re way better.”

“I might need some help remembering how to do it.” Both girls agreed to help with the cooking, revealing proud smiles and nodding their heads. I rushed them toward the bathroom to brush their teeth. Joy swelled in my heart. Besides the fact that Paxton was a dick, and we had some sort of fucked-up something going on between us, I felt amazing. And I was in love. In love with the most precious little girls on earth.

I picked out a cute little blue-jean skirt with a purple shirt. Funny characters in different colors. The top had pink glitter letters that read, Inside Out. I had no idea what that meant, but it was cute. I giggled with the girls when I heard Rowan tell a joke as I passed the bathroom.

“Why did the bubblegum cross the road?”

“Cause it stucked to the chicken’s foot,” Ophelia replied with the quick, correct answer. “I already knowed that one.”

“Rats.”

I walked into Rowan’s room, scooping up a stuffed animal with ease. Hardly any pain at all. I opened her closet, caught off guard. I’m not sure what I’d expected. I mean, they weren’t twins or anything. Hell, they didn’t even have the same mother. Why did I expect them to be in matching outfits? Nothing in Rowan’s closet matched Ophelia’s, and that bothered me, but why?

“What are you doing?” Paxton asked from the door.

Caught off guard, I swung my gaze toward him, his expression wary. Just like mine had probably been when I found out my girls didn’t wear matching clothes. “Helping out. I’m getting their clothes.”

“They’re playing ball. Uniforms. They’re on the couch.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course.”

“Are you wearing lipstick?”

“Well, I have a lot of it. I assumed I always wore it.”

“No. Never. Not unless I made you.”

“Oh, well I better go wipe it off, then.”

Paxton couldn’t hide his reaction. He smiled. A genuine smile. I saw it with my own eyes. He strolled toward me, quickly replacing the grin with a smirk. Even in the short time I knew him, I could tell the difference. The smell of his cologne reached me before his body. Intoxicating.

“What’s this?” He indicated the makeshift belt. His fingers lightly slid over the sparkling studs while his eyes lingered on my breasts.

“I borrowed it from another outfit. It needed something.”

“I like it. Glad you’re going to be with me.”

I frowned, perplexed no doubt, taking over my expression. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, it’s a compliment.”

“Mom! Mom! Rowan won’t give me my shirt. I’m number five. Mom!”

“I’ve got it. Let’s eat. We need to get going,” Paxton said close to my lips, right before he kissed me. Tongue and all. He retreated when Ophelia screamed again.

“You kiss me a lot,” I said, eyes holding his.

Paxton didn’t respond to that. He gave me a peculiar glance and walked away.

I stared after him. Well, mostly his ass. Paxton could wear jeans. Damn, could he ever wear jeans. I shook my head, wondering what the hell was wrong with me—besides the fact that my brain wasn’t right. Puzzling emotions mixed with a longing, and I knew it was for him. There was something there. We did have some sort of pull toward each other, bigger than what Paxton had thought. I didn’t know how I felt about that.

I hung the clothes that didn’t match Ophelia’s back in Rowan’s closet with a heavy sigh and a shake of my head. Day by day. That was all that I could do. That was my only plan.

Paxton and the girls were seated at the table when I joined them. One would think if the husband sat at the end of a six-seating table and chairs, his wife would sit at the other end. Not in the Pierce house. I sat on his right and the girls sat across from me, digging into scrambled eggs and bacon. I had learned my place at the table the first time I ate there. Or that I remember, anyway. All of that was gone. Nothing but a blank brain with little information to go on. What I did recall made no sense. At all. Why couldn’t I remember my life before now? All I had was the here and now with family that I didn’t understand. It seemed hard to believe this was all there was to me. Why was my brain remembering my childhood and not my adult life? I made a mental note to ask Dr. Mirage about that at my next visit.

“What are you doing?” Paxton asked.

I snapped out of my zoning out into space and looked at him, blinking away the vision. I shook my head and spooned a few eggs to my plate, omitting the bacon. “Nothing. I was just thinking.”

“About?”

I tilted my head and smiled. No, it was probably more a smirk, the same smirk that I always got from him. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters. What were you thinking about?”

“Okay, fine. I was thinking about my mom and my sister.”

Paxton rolled his eyes and bit into wiggly bacon.

“You have a sister?” Rowan questioned with excitement.

“No, your mother doesn’t have a sister. It’s her head injury talking. Eat up. You have a ball game to win.”

“I’m gonna hit a ball in the hole, Daddy,” Ophelia said while adding her two cents. She wanted the attention, too.

I smiled over at her, biting the corner of my wheat toast. “I think you like golf, Phi. Maybe that’s going to be your sport.”

“Ophelia. Her name’s Ophelia,” Paxton reminded me.

“Yeah, right. The Mayflower.” It just came out. I didn’t even mean to say it, and I sure as hell didn’t mean to flaunt the attitude. Too late.

Paxton’s fork clanked to the glass plate in front of him, his glare matching his attitude. “Can you help me in the kitchen for a second?”

The cloth napkin dropped to the table and Paxton got up, chair scraping the floor and daggers shooting through my injured brain. Oh, boy… He was pissed. I followed him away from the girls, knowing I was in for something. I just didn’t know what. Maybe a tongue lashing. Maybe a fingering punishment. Who knows?

He stood over the sink, staring out at the endless ocean. “You’re not going,” he said without turning around.

“Going where?”

“Anywhere. To watch the girls today. You can stay home and try to remember your place.”

“Why? That’s stupid. I want to go. I want to watch them play.”

Paxton turned to me that time. Two steps and he was in my face. “And I want you to remember who the fuck you are. You can’t seem to do that no matter how many times you’re told.”

“I don’t even know what you’re so pissed off about. Jesus Christ, lighten up. How can I remember who the fuck I am if this head injury keeps blocking my memories?”

Silence. A red face. And rage.

“Go to your bathroom. Now.”

His tone was subtle. Composed. Calm. That wasn’t the part that scared me. It was the look in his cold-green eyes that caused my own voice to tremble.

“W-why?”

“I’m going to remind you how Pierce women talk to their husbands.”

“There’s more of us? More of you? Shit. Sorry. That’s not what I meant to say. Let’s just go eat breakfast and forget this. It’s nothing. I didn’t mean to disrespect you. I just don’t see what the big deal is. Why can’t I call her Phi?”

“Because that’s not her name. Would you like to see her birth certificate?”

Actually, I did want to see it, but I knew that wasn’t the answer he wanted from me. “Whatever. Can we just finish breakfast and go?”

“I just said—you’re not going.”

“Don’t be like that. I said I was sorry. I need out of this house, too, you know.”

“Then turn around and go to your bathroom. I’m about to teach you another rule around here.”

“What?”

“Go. I’ll be there in a second.”

This was the stupid part. The part that totally baffled me. The first thing I noticed when I walked away mustering up as much deviancy as I could, was the rhythm. The impulsive throb right between my legs. It was like my body knew what lay ahead, reacting as if it had been accustomed to the routine. My brain…Not so much. I had that anxious, adrenaline rush where I could hear my heartbeat in my head. Quick, rapid beats, matching the pulsating between my legs. The palms of my hands dampened and my entire body trembled with apprehension.

And anticipation.

“How’s it going? You guys okay?” I asked as I passed the girls.

“Rowan got more eggs.”

“Well, you got more bacon,” Rowan tattled right back.

“It’s fine. Eat until your tummies are full. I’ll be right back.”

Sticky, strawberry jelly took precedence over me. Rowan started it, and Phi followed suit, forgetting I existed. I continued on my way to my bathroom, afraid yet excited. From the feel of the commotion going on between my legs, I was certain my body knew what was coming. Even if my mind didn’t.