Reclaiming Love Read online

  "Me, too.” Connor hadn't missed what Nicki had said, and he told his heart to stop beating so fast, and told other places to stay still. “He can't go to the police?"

  "Won't,” Nicki corrected. “He won't go to the police. He wouldn't press charges after Josh nearly killed him, and when he did try for a restraining order, the officer he spoke to laughed at him. He should have filed a complaint. He should have asked for someone who dealt with cases like this, but he didn't. He's scared. He sticks close to this area because it's gay friendly, and he feels safe. I don't want that to change."

  Connor ran his hands through his short hair. “So, what do I do? I can't press charges because of this.” He picked up the envelope. “I'm going to keep it, just in case, but unless he tries to do something to me, my hands are tied."

  "Scott was going to talk to his cop friend. Maybe he'll have some suggestions. I don't."

  Connor hung his head. “I was hoping you would."

  "Do what you've been doing. Be patient. Be his friend before you try for anything else. I don't know what his limits are anymore. I did once. His stories are playful, but those are stories. He doesn't talk about that sort of thing anymore, unless it's in a story."

  She reached out to give his hand a squeeze. “Come to his party tonight. It's at my place. It's nothing fancy, just food and drink, maybe some music. If he's in a good mood, he might dance with us. We do that sometimes, in my basement. He and Lilly used to be partners, ballroom dance. They did amateur competitions.” She laughed, and Connor guessed he must have looked stunned again.

  "After this, though.” She tapped the envelope. “I'm not so sure. There won't be many people. Kevin isn't comfortable with large groups."

  "I'll come.” He rubbed his eyes and wished he could crawl into the bed with Kevin. “Did he have any sort of counseling? He seems to be coping, but—"

  "A few formal sessions with a counselor who had issues with his sexuality.” She chewed her lip a little more. “Lots of informal ones with Devon."

  "Tell me about Devon.” Curiosity had gotten the best of him. “I know you said Kevin should tell me, but you keep mentioning him, and I really want to know more."

  "Devon Lancaster. In the mundane world, he's a shrink. He works with kids.” She jerked her chin toward the bedroom. “Kids like Kevin was, or so Devon says. They're friends, or maybe ... Devon might be more of a mentor, really. He won't be at the party tonight. I asked, and he gently refused."

  "Why?"

  Nicki returned to the chair with a heavy sigh. “Kevin's afraid of him."

  "Because of Josh. Is this Devon—"

  "He's a Dom, and that has something to do with it. To be honest, Kevin's afraid of most men. He can function, but he's not comfortable."

  Connor considered what she said for a moment. “Informal sessions? And if he's afraid of Devon then why—"

  "Connor, there's a lot Kevin has to explain to you, but you've got to give him time. He doesn't seem to be afraid of you, just afraid of your reactions. There's a difference. Devon helped him after we rescued him, helped him act more normal. They still talk, but not in person, just on the phone.” She reached over to squeeze his hand gently. “I think formal counseling would help him. Someone he's not afraid of. Devon can only do so much on the phone, but that's Kevin's choice. You can't push him. Just be patient."

  "I'll be patient.” He tried to ignore the little voice that told him patience wasn't something he possessed a great deal of, and thought of Kevin. Kevin was worth waiting for, he decided, and he would wait as long as he had to. He thought of something else then. “Would you do something for me?"

  "Sure. What do you need?"

  "He saw this print earlier, and I was going to buy it for him..."

  She smiled. “You want me to get it?” He nodded. “Which store and what did it look like?” He gave her the information and the money, and she left, promising to wrap it up nice for him and keep it at her house for the party. He slid the office chair back to his desk and worked on a design until movement from the other room distracted him. Kevin was pale. He scanned the room, obviously searching for the package, but Connor had put it away, someplace Kevin wouldn't look or see it by accident.

  "Are you better now?” He stood and slid the chair toward him. “Here, sit down."

  Kevin sat, obediently. Connor grimaced, wondering what had happened to the vibrant man who'd bought him cupcakes earlier.

  "Let me get you something to drink. What would you like? I've got beer, pop, tea."

  Kevin lowered his gaze, refusing to look at him. “Just water."

  Connor knelt in front of the chair and tilted Kevin's chin up so that he could see Kevin's dark eyes. They were gray, almost black right now. “I don't want to do any of that to you. To quote Nicki, it's not my brand of kink, all right?"

  Kevin looked so lost, but he nodded a little.

  "Now, what would you like?"

  Kevin licked his lips. “Would you mind if we went back to my apartment? I think I'd like to see what is in my box now."

  "Are you sure?"

  He nodded and once again lowered his gaze.

  "Okay.” He pointed to the screen. “Would you mind saving that for me? I don't want to lose it. I've been working on it for two days."

  That earned him a tremulous smile, but Kevin did turn around and push the save button.

  He handed Kevin his coat. “Lead the way."

  Connor locked the door behind him. He noticed his lamps were still in the car when he settled in the passenger's seat. They could wait. Kevin didn't say a word as he drove back to his building. He said nothing when they left the parking lot and entered the building, though he did stop to pick up the mail. His hands shook when he flipped through it, but the mail seemed to be nothing but bills and advertisements. They rode the elevator up to the fifth floor. Kevin hesitated outside his door but unlocked it and stepped inside. The clock hanging in the little kitchen said it was three-thirty. Kevin grabbed the box from the counter and sat down on the couch with it, but he made no move to open it. He just stared at it, as if he expected a viper to erupt from it.

  "Do you want me to open it?"

  The relief in his stormy eyes made Connor's heart ache. “Would you?"

  "Of course."

  Kevin passed him the box, and Connor slit the tape open with his little pocketknife. Kevin appeared to have forgotten how to breathe when he pulled the flaps up and peeked inside. “It seems to be a picture album."

  "A black one?"

  "Yes.” Connor took it out of the box and passed it to Kevin.

  Kevin flipped through it and his eyes filled up with tears. “I wanted this back more than anything else.” He cradled it against his chest. “It's the album that had my family pictures in it. Was there a note?"

  Connor found a note in the bottom of the box. “I can be forgiving,” he read. “I know how much you wanted this back. Come back to me, Kevin. I promise it will be different this time. I promise to listen and not push. I've changed. I miss you. Josh."

  Kevin shook his head. “I won't go back. I won't. Nothing he does can make me go back to being treated like that.” He pressed the album to his chest again. “I'm just glad I got this back.” Kevin laid his head on Connor's shoulder. He still had the album pressed against him. “I'm not going back,” he whispered. “I have you now. Pastor Rick says God never gives us more than we can handle, but I'm not sure I believe that. But you must be my reward for living through hell."

  Connor wasn't sure Kevin knew what he was saying, or if he realized he was speaking aloud, so he stayed very still. The depth of feeling in those words was surprising. Kevin had always seemed so reserved, but apparently he felt about Connor the way Connor felt about him. He remembered Nicki's words. He likes you, really likes you. Kevin fell silent, and Connor finally moved, wrapping his arms around the slim body.

  "Maybe we were meant to find each other."

  "I think so.” Kevin stayed in that position for several
minutes before he took Connor's hand. “I want to show you something. I want to show you so you can understand.” He led Connor into the hallway. There were two bedrooms and a bathroom, and Connor guessed Kevin must have the larger of the two rooms. He opened the door, and Connor resisted the sudden urge to gasp. The bedroom was as tastefully decorated as the outer rooms, though here the pictures were prints, mostly advertisements for plays. Framed photos covered the dresser, along with several small boxes that looked as though they might be antiques. There was another bookcase in here, jammed full of books. These, Connor noticed, seemed to be mostly classics and gay interest books.

  Connor sat on the edge of the neatly made bed. Kevin opened the closet and pulled out another photo album, this one red. He sat down beside Connor with this one in the same pose as he'd held the one from the box. “I wouldn't show you this, but Josh isn't going to stop. He'll send you these same pictures eventually, and I'd rather show them to you than have you find out another way.” He swallowed hard and closed his eyes. “I want to show you what he did to me,” he whispered. He flinched when Connor touched his back.

  "Kevin..."

  Kevin touched Connor's lips with his fingertips, and the eyes that stared up at him were still that beautiful stormy gray. “I want you to see. I want to put all of this behind me. I want to be able to live. Does that make sense?” Connor nodded. “I can't live happily and honestly if I don't let you see this. He'll only send you the pictures. The same way he sent the sort of collar I used to wear. I don't want secrets."

  Connor was surprised that Kevin was being so open, but he also remembered Nicki had said he'd once been very open. “I don't want secrets either. I went through that already, and I didn't enjoy it."

  The stormy gray of Kevin's eyes lightened a little. “I'm glad that we agree.” He laid the album flat on his lap and stared at it, not looking anywhere but at the red leather surface. He put his hand on the cover.

  "This is my past, Connor. I don't want this anymore. I will be honest and admit that I still think about the scene sometimes. I still like the idea, and I still fantasize about it, but I don't want it. Maybe someday...” He trailed off, and his eyes closed. “I know it at its best and at its worst. Okay?"

  Connor nodded.

  Kevin took a deep breath to compose himself. “Josh wasn't the first Dom I'd been with, but he was the first I accepted a collar from. And should I ever return to the scene, I will never let someone collar me again.” He tapped the album. “This is my slave album. It's supposed to chronicle my training as a sub with him, but I was already experienced when I met Josh, and what it really chronicles is the abuse I suffered at his hands. I kept it for that reason; only that reason. I've thought of burning this many times. What I wanted with Josh and what I got were two very different things."

  "What did you want?"

  Kevin sighed and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “An even power exchange, a loving power exchange. I wanted someone who would fulfill my fantasies, but at the same time would let me be my own person. That was very important to me. I knew it existed because I'd seen a very good example. I did not want to be a slave in the literal sense of the word, and Josh did worse than that to me.” A single tear slid down his cheek. “He betrayed my trust, betrayed the trust I'd placed in him. Trust and consent are the foundations of these games.” Another tear followed the first. “He took those away. He made me a prisoner, and for all practical purposes, he tortured me."

  He opened the album. The first pictures showed him on his knees, naked, hands bound behind his back, head bowed. His hand slid across the page. “This was the collaring ceremony, before I discovered the cruelty he was capable of.” The Kevin in the picture was thin, much thinner than he was now, but the hair was the same, and his eyes were the same dark gray as now.

  Connor winced when he turned the page and showed him a series of pictures of his back, red and slightly abraded. “I like the flogger,” he explained softly. “I always liked the flogger, just hard enough to sting.” He traced the marks in the pictures. “Just hard enough to make the skin red. This was too hard, really, but I didn't complain."

  Connor pointed to the page. “Doesn't that hurt?"

  Kevin smiled and nodded. “Have you ever heard the phrase it hurts so good?"

  "Yes.” Connor had a very hard time understanding, but he was going to try. If this was what it took to win Kevin's trust, he would try. Some little part of his brain told him to walk away, but he couldn't. Something about Kevin kept him rooted to the spot, waiting for an answer.

  "It hurts at first.” He scowled, trying to find a way to explain. “Let me rephrase that. When it's something I want, it hurts at first, but at the same time it is so very erotic. And just beyond the pain is a place where you float above everything. It's like flying, or what I always thought flying would be like."

  "Sub space?"

  Kevin started, but he nodded, smiling. “Where did you hear that?"

  "Nicki. She said there was nothing more beautiful than watching someone whipped into sub space."

  Kevin's smile widened. “She's right. Josh never took me there. I'd been whipped by the best, and he wasn't in their league.” He skipped several pages. “Or rather, he did take me there, but it wasn't a beautiful place anymore. He took me there through fear, not the beautiful balance between pleasure and pain.” He chose a page of pictures that showed him bound to an X shaped cross. They were a series, Connor realized, but it was the last picture that captivated him. The last picture was of Kevin's face, only his face, and Connor could only have described his expression as rapturous. Kevin's head was tilted back slightly. His eyes were shut, and his mouth slightly open as though he'd just seen the face of God.

  "Devon Lancaster took me there with nothing but a flogger and his hands. He knew how to touch after a strike. He knew how to read me, and he listened to my signals. Unlike Josh, who just hit me harder, Devon knew that sometimes he had to back off, that I didn't like the pain as much as the sensation.” He ran his hands over the pictures. “Nicki gave me these after I'd left Josh, and I put them in their proper place. I paid dearly for this, but I don't regret it."

  Connor paid attention to the other pictures now, noticing the evolution of expression from agony to ecstasy. “God, Kevin. This is almost beautiful.” He meant those words. They were beautiful, especially that last one, and he thought he understood a little now.

  Kevin sighed. “I told you I had seen the best and the worst.” He turned the page. “This was my punishment for begging Devon to whip me.” If the previous series of pictures were beautiful, these were as gruesome as crime scene photos. Kevin's face was bruised and bloody, and there were other pictures that showed his back and buttocks a mass of bruises and lacerations.

  "He used a cane, and he made sure to break the skin. I don't like to be caned. I never have. He knew that. The cane was on my list of hard limits. I was truly afraid of it.” He took a shuddering breath. “He didn't stop when I begged, and he didn't stop when I used my safe words. He was supposed to, but he didn't. He never did. He was angry because Devon had achieved what he never could. I always disappointed him in public scenes because he couldn't get me to this place.” He turned back to the previous page. “So he would punish me. Punish in a literal sense, not a playful sense."

  "I don't understand."

  Kevin gave him a rueful smile. “Not counting idiots like Josh, most of the time, the punishments are something that are a shared pleasure for both Dom and sub. It's punishment.” He emphasized the last word a little, making quotes with his fingers. “But at the same time, it's a reward.” He tapped the album. “This wasn't a reward. He beat me with a cane, with his fists. He kicked me. He bit me. He claimed it was all part of the play."

  "Did this put you in the hospital?"

  Kevin shook his head. “That started later. At this point he'd made me quit my job. He'd sold my car, taken away my access to a phone or computer. He didn't let me talk to my friends, especially De
von.” He paused there. “I'll tell you about Devon, I promise, just not now."

  "When you're ready."

  Kevin nodded. “I couldn't even talk to my friends if we were out. If I did...” He turned a few more pages to show Connor a picture of him locked in a large metal dog crate. The thing wasn't big enough to stretch in, and so the picture showed Kevin curled in a fetal position. “I got to spend the night in this. He padlocked it so I couldn't escape. He didn't let me have a blanket. He didn't let me out to use the bathroom. If he was really pissed, he would leave me in there while he went to work, and I would have to relieve myself inside the cage and lay there."

  He flipped back to the previous pages. “Then I got more of this. I wasn't allowed to have opinions. I wasn't allowed to sleep in the bed. My bed was in the floor, chained to the wall. If he let me eat, I didn't get to eat at the table. In the time I was with Josh, I lost about forty pounds.” He turned back to the front of the book. “I was underweight when I met him, and when I got out I was seriously underweight. My doctor put me on a diet to gain it back.” He patted his stomach. “I've remedied that now a little too well."

  "You aren't fat."

  Kevin smiled, but it was a sad smile. “I can't tell you everything at once, Connor. I can't.” He averted his gaze. “I'll tell you what I can, all right?"

  Connor reached up to gently brush Kevin's hair aside. “All right."

  "There's a part of me that knows I'm not fat. I think, for the first time in my life, I'm at a normal weight. Part of me still hears Josh telling me I'm fat and ugly. I can't quite shut that voice off in my head.” He closed the album but kept his hand in place. “I want...” He chewed his lip, obviously searching for the right words. “I like you, Connor. I want to be with you. I want to be able to share myself with you, but I can't."

  He opened the album again, flipping a few more pages. “I can't because this shit won't go away, and he won't leave me alone.” Tears filled his eyes. “I just want to be able to live.” He mopped at his eyes. “This put me in the hospital.” He pointed to a picture that showed him bound and in obvious agony while a metal rod was inserted in his penis. “He tore my urethra. This was on my list of hard limits. I never asked for it. I never begged for it. But helpless like that, I couldn't fight, and when I screamed for him to stop. He gagged me."