Collaring Brooke (Club Zodiac Book 3) Page 23
She sent a few texts to each of her family members, and by ten o’clock, she stood beside her car, forehead against Carter’s chest, fingers draped in the loops of his jeans.
He gripped her face, kissed the top of her head, and opened her car door. With nothing more than a wave, he let her go.
She held her breath for a long time as she watched him standing in the driveway while she pulled down the street, and then she turned the corner and he was no longer in her line of sight.
For fifteen minutes she wiped tears from her face, but she forced herself to gather her wits. She had so many questions. Needed so many answers. It was time to face her future.
Chapter 23
Two weeks later…
Carter was on his knees, lining up a poorly cut piece of tile when he felt the presence of someone in the room. He lifted his gaze to find Rowen standing across the room. Lincoln was next to him. “Shit. What are you guys doing here? You scared me to death.”
Lincoln stepped forward, pointing at the floor. “Seems like you were fighting that same piece of tile the last time I came to the house.”
Carter shot him a glare. “Nope. That was on the other side of the kitchen. And before you ask why I’m still working on the kitchen after two weeks, the answer is simple: There was a problem with the plumbing, and I had to work in another part of the house for a while until the plumber could straighten things out in the kitchen.”
Rowen chuckled.
Lincoln frowned. “When have I ever questioned your judgment or capabilities when it comes to construction issues?”
Carter stood, stretching his legs.
“Have you spoken to her?” Rowen asked.
It was the first time either of them had pointed out the elephant in the room since two hours after she left him. Instead of wallowing in self-pity that Sunday afternoon, Carter had driven to Lincoln’s house and met with him and Rowen, telling them about Brooke’s decision to spend some time in West Palm Beach.
It might have been cathartic, but it also brought his closest friends up to speed and avoided a constant barrage of questions. Until today.
“No.” He wiped his hands on his jeans and turned to grab a bottle of water.
“Texted?” Lincoln asked.
“A few times. What is this, an intervention?”
Lincoln lifted a brow. “Do you need an intervention?”
“Nope.”
Rowen rocked forward on his feet. “Is your woman sleeping in your bed?”
Carter rolled his eyes.
Rowen continued, “Then, yes. I’d say you need an intervention.”
“Don’t be so dramatic. She’s getting to know her family.”
Lincoln’s turn. “She’s been doing that for two weeks. Don’t you think it’s time to go visit her?”
Rowen chuckled again. “Or drag her pretty ass home?”
Carter sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I might be a little chicken.” There were few people he would admit something like that to, but his two best friends whom he had bonded with over their shared military background and love of BDSM clubs deserved his honesty. Hell, they were business partners. Brothers. Closer than most blood relatives.
“You?” Rowen lifted a brow. “Now, this is troubling,” he joked.
“At the risk of sounding like a girl, what if she’s decided she’s not interested in what I have to offer?”
Lincoln responded in kind. “At the risk of sounding like your mother, you’ve given her enough time. Go get her.”
Carter sighed. “And if she won’t come back?” His biggest fear.
“You’re bigger than her,” Lincoln teased. “Carry her out.”
Carter smirked. “That will go over well.”
Rowen made his way across the precariously placed tile and grabbed a water bottle off the counter. “Did something happen between you two besides her finding her family and all that shit?”
“Not really. Not from my view anyway. We click like no one I’ve ever met. She’s perfect. The only thing I was concerned about was her tendency toward masochism. It worried me.” Carter hadn’t shared as much with Rowen as he had Lincoln.
“You’re qualified to top her without hurting her,” Rowen pointed out. “I could have told you that the night you first got together. Faith knows her tendencies well. You shouldn’t have been blindsided. What were the issues?”
“She’s been abused. By her mother. I don’t ever want to do anything to emotionally harm her. Makes me fucking nervous.”
“How many times have you complied with her requests?” Rowen asked.
“Twice. Once with my hand and another time with a flogger.”
“Did she do okay?”
“She was fine.” Carter threw up his hands. “It still makes me nervous. What if one time she slips into a deep subspace and doesn’t stop me and has a negative experience? It takes so little suggestion to get her into subspace. You can practically command it.”
“Do you think she used that as a coping mechanism when her mother beat her?” Lincoln was finally serious and concerned.
“Probably. I never want to do anything that would set her back to that kind of abuse.”
“Understandable. Why don’t you scene with her at the club with one or both of us monitoring? I’m sure Faith will be willing to help too,” Rowen suggested.
“Yeah, I suggested that, but we never got around to going to the club while she was with me, and shit hit the fan so fast things changed. Both times I gave her what she wanted were kind of urgent. She might have literally lost it if I hadn’t taken care of her.”
“She needs some counseling, Carter,” Lincoln pointed out.
“I know. But we didn’t have time to make that happen either. We didn’t have time for anything.” Carter was frustrated, and his rising tone was surely an indication to both his friends.
“I have a list of lifestyle-sensitive counselors in the area. I’ll get you some names.” Lincoln set a hand on Carter’s shoulder. “Go get her. Take tomorrow off and go get her.”
Tomorrow was Tuesday. Carter glanced around.
Lincoln gave his shoulder a shove. “The damn house will still be here when you get your shit sorted. Don’t worry about it. Assign someone else to lay this tile. There are more important things in life than flipping houses.”
Carter nodded. He stood taller and exhaled fully for the first time in over two weeks. His friends were right. He would go tomorrow.
Brooke was dying. A slow ugly death sent by the devil to zap her energy and send her running to the bathroom every half hour. She had barely made it the last two times, and now she was back in bed, curled in a ball, shivering.
Martha was at her side for the tenth time that morning. “You poor girl. I brought you some orange juice and some Sprite. Which one sounds better? You need to drink something. You’ve been vomiting for two days.”
Brooke moaned as she nodded. She watched Martha’s worried expression as she left her alone. Brooke didn’t honestly care what she drank or didn’t drink at the moment. She felt so badly that she’d even lost the ability to feel embarrassed about being so sick in a stranger’s home.
Not that Martha and Gentry were strangers. They were her grandparents, and they had made her feel at home from the moment she arrived. It had made more sense for her to stay with them.
Her other grandmother, Wanda, made her slightly uncomfortable. Eventually, she would get over the unease, but Wanda created most of the tension herself with her constant apologizing for the “sins of her past.”
David had been amazing also. He’d brought his wife over the first evening and then his kids the second night after school. The boys were adorable. Both of them had the same red hair as Brooke, and they had accepted her into their lives seamlessly.
David’s wife had also. Her name was Kelly, and she never gave any indication she was perturbed by this new development. Maybe she had freaked out when David first told her. But she didn’t let on in front of Brooke, w
hich was very much appreciated.
Everyone seemed to understand that the person who had lost the most in this saga was Brooke. The rest of them were adjusting appropriately, but they did not once make light of her situation.
And then there was Carter.
With each passing day, it got more and more difficult to reach out to him. She had treated him badly. There was no reason why she had to leave him just to come to West Palm Beach to meet her family. It would have been easier every step of the way if he’d been by her side.
He would have held her hand and listened to her when she stressed over each new milestone. Instead, she’d shunned him as though he were nothing. And she felt stupid calling him to say she’d made a mistake.
He was probably angry. He hadn’t indicated anything of the sort in his three texts, but she hadn’t given him much of a choice. She’d drawn a line and told him not to cross it. She didn’t have a right to be frustrated with him for doing as she demanded.
She missed him. Several times she’d pondered what her life would look like without him. The thought of going to another fetish club or submitting to another Dom made her as queasy as whatever illness was currently sucking the life out of her. No way could she submit to another man.
She wanted Carter. In fact, she realized she would take him any way she could get him. Even though he had an aversion to striking her as hard as she’d like, it wasn’t a deal breaker. He was kind and generous and caring and loving and so many other things. The list was long. So what if he didn’t want to whip her hard enough to really hurt?
Now she was sick. The flu had kicked her butt. And she hadn’t even had the energy to let him know.
She should call him. She knew he was probably missing her as badly as she was him. Hell, he hadn’t completely let her go either. He’d been thinking about her and helping her get to her future goals because she’d received a certified envelope a few days ago that contained her birth certificate. There was no other information with it, but Carter had obviously been the one to order it, and he’d placed the request on a rush. A quick Google search told her she could easily get her social security card from any local SSA center. That was a relief.
She had silently choked up at his thoughtfulness. She didn’t know if anyone could possibly grasp how important it was to have her birth certificate in her hands, but it meant so much to her that she literally stuck it under her pillow the first night. The first piece of paper that confirmed she was a real person with a real identity.
Her birth certificate listed her mother’s real name—Laurie Ann Wilson. The space for the father was blank. But at least Brooke Madden was not a fake name. Well, it was fake, but it was legally Brooke’s identity.
One day she would see about adding her father formally to her birth certificate, if that was even a thing. She would ask him.
Another package had arrived several days ago also, by courier. Brooke had cried for a long time that night after finding out Carter had retrieved her mother’s ashes from the coroner. She spent the next day contemplating what to do with them, and then gave them to Wanda. It hadn’t been a tough decision. Brooke didn’t need the constant reminder in her face, and Wanda had been beyond grateful to have that little piece of her own daughter returned to her.
Shaking visions of her mother’s urn from her head, she closed her eyes. Jasper jumped up at her feet and curled into the curve of her legs. He calmed her every time, and he seemed to have a sense that she needed to be loved.
On the edge of her consciousness, she thought she heard voices in the front room, but she was too exhausted to move a muscle or attempt to listen to who had arrived. Besides, she was not good company, and there was a real fear she might vomit again if she moved.
It took her a moment to realize she was no longer alone. She opened her eyes only enough to see who was in the room, and then she gasped. “Carter?” She started to sit up, but her head was spinning.
He rushed forward, sat on the edge of the bed, and set a hand on her forehead. “Baby, you look like shit. Why didn’t you call me?”
Jasper jumped down from the bed and scampered away.
She forced a smile. “I didn’t want you to think I was ever unattractive?” she joked. She had never been so happy to see anyone in her life. In fact, she grabbed his hand and pulled it against her chest, snuggling into his warmth. That was all she had energy for.
He felt her face again with his other hand. “You don’t feel feverish. How long have you been sick?”
“A few days. I can’t keep anything down, and I have no energy.”
His brow was furrowed as though she’d just announced she had terminal cancer instead of the flu.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine. I just need to get the nausea under control,” she reassured him. He looked unreasonably worried.
Seeming to force his face to relax, he climbed up behind her and spooned her body against his, smoothing her hair from her face.
She felt one hundred times better already. His touch calmed her in a way nothing else could. It suddenly occurred to her how stubborn she’d been. A stupid tear escaped her eye at the same time. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Baby, for what? For being sick? People get sick. You’ll be fine.” He stroked her cheek with the back of his knuckles.
She shook her head slightly, stopping herself when she realized it was a bad idea to move. “For leaving you like that. For insisting I needed to find myself.”
“Nothing to apologize for. You had every right. I told you I understood. You found out your entire family lives here, and you wanted to get to know them. I get it, baby. It’s not crazy at all.”
“But I didn’t have to cut you off to do it. I thought…” She wasn’t sure how to explain herself. “I was afraid maybe I wasn’t who I thought I was and I would figure out I needed something else.”
“And?”
“I was wrong.” She gripped his fingers so tight against her chest it hurt. “I’m just me. No matter who I meet or how many family members I have or where I go or what my birth certificate says, I’m still me.” She sucked in a breath and finished on a whisper. “I’m still the same person who fell in love with you.”
He flinched. “Oh, baby. You don’t know how much those words mean to me. I’m so crazy in love with you I can’t function. I don’t even know what I did to fill my time before you came into my life, but now I sit and stare at the ceiling for hours in the evenings, hoping you’ll call.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“You needed space. I wanted to respect that.”
“But now you’re here,” she pointed out.
He laughed. “I was done respecting that. I missed you. I need you back. I need you in my bed. It’s empty without you. The house is quiet.”
She let the tears fall freely, still worried she might throw up if she got too emotional or moved. “You tracked down my birth certificate and my mom’s ashes.”
“I did. I guess they arrived?”
“Yes. Thank you.” She squeezed his hand. “No one’s ever gone out of their way for me like that.”
“Baby, you’re my life. I’ll go out of my way for the rest of time for you. I’ll remind you of that daily until you die. Nothing that pertains to you feels like going out of my way. I did it because I love you. Because I knew it would mean the world to you to have your birth certificate.”
She smiled. “I slept with it under my pillow the first night.”
He chuckled behind her. “Not surprising.”
“And my mother’s ashes,” she murmured. “I can’t believe you did that.”
His fingers threading in her hair felt so damn good. “I hope I didn’t overstep. I thought they might give you closure.”
“Thank you. They did. I gave them to Wanda. She was very grateful.”
“I’m glad.”
She sobered. “My family is amazing. Even Wanda is coming around. She’s nervous all the time, but she’ll get there.”
“Yes. It’s hard to watch.”
For several moments they simply lay there. She felt…home. Loved. Secure. Relaxed for the first time in two weeks. It had been wonderful getting to know her family, but Carter was her life. He was her future.
Finally he cleared his throat as though he had something important to say. “You choose. I can stay here with you, or you can come home with me. I know you don’t feel well, so if you’d rather me stay here until you’re on your feet, that’s fine, but I’d like you back at home under my roof in my bed as soon as you feel like you can make the trip. I’m not going back without you. It’s your home too now. It feels wrong without you there. It’s not alive when I’m alone. It was just a house before you came. Now it’s a home. Our home.”
For a long time she couldn’t speak. Did he have any idea how his words made her feel? Finally, she tipped her head his direction to see his eyes. “Take me home.”
Chapter 24
Brooke lay in the back seat of Carter’s truck, incredibly glad he’d driven it instead of the sports car. There was no way she could have driven her own car. Carter insisted they would retrieve it another day.
It would only take a little over an hour to get to his house, but she knew she would feel so much better sleeping in his bed tonight instead of the guest room at her grandparents’ house.
Crazy, since she had actually slept only two nights in Carter’s room and a week in his guest room. She’d spent more days and nights with her newfound family than she had with Carter.
And yet, he was her world. She felt complete when she was with him. She felt at home in his house. Like she belonged there. She had felt like a guest in her grandparents’ home. No fault of their own. It just happened.
They had been sorry to see her go, and she had asked them to explain the situation to David, but their expressions made it clear they were relieved to see her on speaking terms with Carter—a man her grandmother said clearly adored her and thought she walked on water.