☼ Sasha ☼

I went to leave, however, the sound of my father's voice had me pausing. He was angry and he'd already vented on Zack's face. 

Maybe leaving them alone wasn't the best idea and I shifted closer and pressed my ear against the hardwood door.

"You do know she's got something going on with Max's kid, Ellis?" my father said, adding. "I caught him sneaking out of here this morning."

"I do," answered Zack.

"And what?" asked my father. "You're okay with that?"

"Yes."

I could almost picture my daddy's face reddening, his eyes twitching. But a smile tugged at my lips when I heard him say, "Fuck. I don't want to know any more, do I?"

I was amazed he hadn't grilled me the second Ellis had left this morning, but he already had enough to deal with, namely, Helena.

"I think that would be wise," agreed Zack.

"You're a fucking wolf, Zack, and Sasha, she a ..."

"A lamb?" 

My dad slammed his glass down. "Yes and too fucking young. Far too fucking sweet for you.  You'll never deserve her." His grumble sounded weary.  "I know it's pointless to tell you to keep your filthy paws off her."

A long pause followed.

My father's voice lowered, taking on a menacing tone as he threatened Zack. "Remember this, and listen very carefully: if you hurt her, I don't care—our relationship will be null and void because I will personally drive a knife into your dead heart and carve you up like a holiday turkey."

Daddy had a way with words, but he thought Zack's heart was dead?

Sure, Zack came across as cold and aloof, and yeah, he'd been a bastard that night, but dead-hearted seemed harsh.

Or maybe I was wishing for something that wasn't there. I wanted to believe, to have faith there was more to him.

"You won't need to," replied Zack. "If I hurt her, I'll hand you the blade myself."

I continued listening, unsurprised when they began talking about Helena and Jarrod. And without realising it, my fingertips wandered to my mouth, gently tapping as I pondered how Zack would handle the situation. I was so deep in thought that I jumped when I heard Zack tell Daddy he was coming to see me. I yanked my head away from the door, hiked up my dress, and quickly hurried to my bedroom.

I jittered on the spot, looking around my room. It was a mess.

Then I huffed.

What did it matter if it was a mess?

I didn't care what he thought of it or me. Liar.

Yeah, okay, I was lying.

It wasn't long before I heard a knock at my door. Huh, he knocked.

Every inch of my body was taut as I opened the door to watch his dark eyes grow wide with amusement. "You look flushed, Sasha did you have to run up here to beat me?"

I snorted, refusing to acknowledge the warmth flooding my chest and the skittish nervous rumblings as I drank him in. "I'm flushed because it's warm?"

One eyebrow rose, and he didn't wait for an invite as he stepped into my room.

"We both know that's a lie. You were listening to your father and me."

I closed my door and moved around him already feeling the room was far too confined for the both of us. My eyes drifted to my unmade bed, and then back to Zack, who was staring at it. "No, I wasn't."

He tipped his chin and tsked. "Little liar."

I waved a hand as if it was nothing but silently hissed in irritation, hating that he could see straight through me. "Fine. I was listening and I want to know what you're going to do with Helena and Jarrod?"

His pleased chuckle had me wanting to smile and I chewed on my lip, wondering if I should ignore him. Instead, I made a pfft-ing sound and rolled my eyes.

With delight now in his dark eyes, he came toward me, making me back up. One Step, two, three, and my back hit the wall.

How did he always do this, corner me?

Why did I let him?

While I debated with myself he cupped the side of my face while his thumb gently swept over my lips. His expression softened, a knowing smile, small and a touch sorrowful.

"I won't do anything to either of them if you don't want me to..."

I wasn't expecting that, and I laid my hand on his chest and pushed, not too hard. "What about what Daddy wants? Has he not asked you to sort it?"

"What you want, Sasha, is what's important to me."

Now he cared what was important to me?

My fingers were warmed by his heat and then his hand threaded his fingers through mine. "Say the word and nothing will happen to them; they can go on living their lives."

My bottom lip wobbled and I shook my head. I didn't care what happened to them, if it made Daddy's life better that they were gone, then I wouldn't feel bad—they had brought this on themselves. But I had a different, more pressing question.

"Why did you do that to me—that night?"

He pressed his forehead against mine and my eyes fluttered shut, my anger simmering beneath the surface torn between wanting him closer and wanting to push him away.

I sucked in a sharp breath as warm lips gently pressed against my skin—once on the corner of my eye, then my cheek, my jaw—before his mouth ghosted over mine. It was so un-Zack to be this gentle. "I've never regretted anything as much as what I did to you that night. The hurt I caused. I'm sorry, Sasha."

His whispered apology and the soft nip of his teeth against my skin made my fingers bunch in his shirt. "Zack..."

A smile brushed along my collarbone as he exhaled my name, his mouth finding mine in a kiss that was painfully sweet. I wasn't used to this tenderness from him.

And there it was, my heart beating for him in my chest after he'd stomped all over it weeks before.

It beat faster as his tongue nudged my mouth open and deepened the kiss. Helpless moans escaped me.

"Fuck, what have you done to me, Sasha?"  I assumed that was rhetorical. "I didn't know loss until I lost you," he murmured as I lightly bit his lower lip, eliciting a gasp from him.

But what the hell was I doing? 

Was I crazy? 

A kiss and some sweet words would not fix this.

That was the wake-up call I needed to snap me out of the spell I'd fallen under—his dark magic. This time, I pushed him away harder, and he moved.

"You think it's as easy as that, an apology and then I'll just move on as fast as Ellis?" I flung out a hand, channelling the pain and anger that churned inside me. "Do you think that video fixed everything? I thought it was him... that sick bastard."

My breathing escalated, heart raced. "I was scared out of my mind, Zack. Sometimes I wake up and think he's in my room, or that he might come looking for me!" My voice was heaving with emotion.

His next words halted my outburst. "He's gone—dead."

Shock burst from my throat in a sharp gasp. "Dead?" I blinked, once, twice. "You killed him." It wasn't a question.

He took his time answering. "He didn't die by my hand, but yes, I had a hand in it."

I slowly nodded and this might seem crazy to a sane person but I felt nothing hearing of his death. "I guess I should thank you."  

That surprised him. "What, you're not upset that I had someone murdered?"

My head moved from side to side. Did it make me heartless?

"I should have killed him that night. I wanted to."

"You got me out of there. You looked after me."

I leaned my weight against the wall, letting his admission sink in. "Still—" Despite being a forgiving person, the pain and the hurt was still there. "It doesn't mean I can forgive what you did. You wanted to hurt me." He didn't deny it. "It's not going to be easy wiping the slate clean. You may have submitted to Ellis, sucked his cock..." He tried to interject, but I held up a hand that silenced him. "I don't think I can trust you again... not as a Dom."

His intense gaze trapped mine. "I'm not asking you to and I won't be your Dom."

Huh? 

"You have Ellis now. He's learning fast, and you can trust him."

My face fell into a frown and with a pinch of curiosity, I asked. "Then what do you want for me?"

His discomfort was palpable but he stared right at me and said. "I'm fucking selfish enough to want everything, Sasha." His voice hardened with self-directed anger. "And that starts with me doing something I'm not comfortable with." He gulped. "Being open and vulnerable."

I blinked, taken aback by his unexpected admission. "You—vulnerable?" I asked cautiously.

He hesitated, his jaw tightening before he nodded reluctantly. "Trust me, if I had something else to offer you that would help me here, I would use it."

I watched his eyes skim over me. "How about you get changed out of that dress, and we go out, and we can talk some more."

Zack's discomfort was genuine and his admission about being 'open' piqued my interest. I would at least allow him to explain, I mean that would be the fair thing to do, wouldn't it? "Okay."

"You have ten minutes and I will wait downstairs."

That sure sounded like a command to me... and god help me, I jolted under that authority and yeah, he noticed.

Goddammit. I laughed brittle and loud, an accusing glint flashing from my stare. "Is that a command Zack?"

"Please, Sasha," he added.  "Join me downstairs when you're ready."

At three in the afternoon we climbed out of Zack's chauffeur-driven car. He'd brought me to one of the finest, if not the best seafood restaurant, located above the buzzing streets of the West Hollywood design district, on the corner of Melrose. "You're not serious?"

He closed the car door and snagged my hand. "Serious about what?"

"Fetching me here!" Embarrassed, I almost screeched. "Have you seen what I'm wearing?" I was in a simple white summer dress, yeah I had on my Jimmy Choo's satin ballet pumps, but c'mon... a simple dress would not cut it here. Thankfully, I'd given my hair some attention in the timeframe I had to work with.

My gaze wandered over the building. "Is it even open?"

He answered with a cocky smile. "It is for us, and you look beautiful."

Twice now he'd said that and I squirmed back a step trying to hide the pleasure I felt for him saying that I was beautiful again.

Zack walked us to the door and opened it, and I begrudgingly let him tug me along. At least it was cool inside. "No one is here," I whispered, eyeing the empty tables suspiciously.

"I know," he replied, just as a petite woman weaved between tables, making her way over to us.

"Mr. Coles, always a pleasure to see you," she purred with a smile that flirted on the edge of inappropriate and jealously flared hot in my stomach.

Zack squeezed my hand, almost as if he could read my thoughts. "Darcy," he acknowledged, his tone cool and detached. "Is everything ready?"

Her eyes dropped to our joined hands then shot up. "Yes, Sir. The terrace is as you requested," Darcy said, turning to me. I braced myself for the inevitable bitchy once-over, ready to unleash my inner bull at any red rag she might wave. 

But no, her smile was warm and genuine.

Huh, surprising and I relaxed a bit.

Settled on the terrace, our table was the only one out there. Music played and as our server recited the wine and house champagne, I flipped through the menu. Zack ordered a white wine for me and a scotch for himself.

Peering over my menu, I asked, "How come they opened just for you?"

"For us," he corrected. "And I have a stake in the place."

I lowered my menu. "You own it?"

"Part own it, and the one in New York and Australia too."

I glanced around, realising just how much about Zack remained a mystery. He was a damn puzzle, impossible to fully piece together.

Barely alone for a minute, a man joined us and I recognised him instantly. He was the Dom I'd been interested in at Risk. I watched him and Zack greet each other and I picked up my glass of wine and pretended to be interested in the view from up here. "Meet Mikal, Sasha—the owner." Fixing a smile I turned and it was a relief that if he remembered me, he didn't show it.

"It's lovely to meet you, Sasha," Mikal said with a slight incline of his head. "And try to Bluefin Tuna or Caledonia prawns." He shook Zack's hand and left us alone.

That relief didn't last long.

"You didn't need to pretend you didn't recognise him, Sasha," Zack said, amusement shining in his eyes.

I nearly spat out my wine, swallowing hard. "How did you know?"

"You thought I wouldn't find out about your membership? I okayed it and reviewed the security tapes from the submissive's open night."

Of course he did.

He chuckled. "I'm not surprised Mikal caught your eye. He is an excellent Dom."

We ordered and I listened to Zack tell me more about Mikal and how he came to invest in his restaurants, it was refreshing to have him share openly but as our food arrived and we started eating, I couldn't relax. An itchy feeling beneath my skin made it almost impossible, so I blurted out, "You can start anytime, y'know, being vulnerable, confessing more dark secrets?" 

I doubted anything could be as bad as what he told me about Tabitha and Nathaniel.

Worry creased deep lines into Zack's features as he licked his lower lip, set down his fork, and dabbed his mouth with the napkin.

Was he nervous? Or stalling?

What could he possibly have to tell me that would ruffle him?

"When I was fifteen," he started. "I agreed to see a psychiatrist."

I stilled. "Why?"

His Adam's apple slowly shifted. "It began when I was five. A little boy who missed his father, and perhaps that made me an easy target."

I gasped and my eyes flared wide with my heart now drumming a frantic beat "Target?"

Zack continued. "Looking back, I guess you could call it abuse or torture."

My entire body went rigid. "Who... who did that to you?"

His eyes met mine, and I noticed how black and bottomless they were today like you could fall into them and never find your way out. "Zack?" I softly urged.

His smile was hollow. "You and I share something in common."

"What?"

"Our mothers didn't care much for our well-being, if at all."

No shit mine didn't.

"Your mother hurt you—" The food I'd swallowed now sat uncomfortably in my stomach. "—tortured you?"

"They were easy punishments at first. Locked in a cage or the cellar. Not given dinner."

The way he said it, almost casually, had me blinking back moisture. "Why did she punish you?"

Zack's nonchalant shrug belied what he must have been truly feeling. "If I mentioned my father... and for the smallest of things. Things that kids get up to, normal stuff." He pushed his plate away as if the food suddenly offended him. "After each punishment, I would have to thank her and tell her I loved her." A muscle in his jaw ticked. He slowly blinked. "I didn't love my mother."

I sat there feeling everything and yet numb. "You said at first—did it get worse?"

"She had a string of partners. One in particular, Joseph, stuck around longer than the others. I was isolated, my mother homeschooled me, and my father was in America. I didn't realise what he was doing was wrong."

My blood ran cold, like an icy river, and Zack saw the horror on my face.

He shut his eyes, the long eyelashes dusted the top of his cheeks. "Some days were better than others. The worst ones involved being strangled until I passed out."

I hadn't realised I was still holding my fork until it clattered to the plate, drawing the attention of a staff member who hurried over.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Coles?"

Zack looked up, and there was nothing in his eyes—they were blank and unfeeling. "No, everything is fine," he said, "But we'd like to be completely alone."

The server's gaze flitted between us before he nodded and scuttled off.

I reached across the table, my hand trembled as I touched his and he flinched before flipping his hand over and letting me hold his as he continued.

"At age seven, she threw Joseph out, screaming it was my fault he loved me more than her. And then she bundled me up in the car and drove us into a lake on our estate, and as I watched the water rise inside the car, I didn't panic or care at that point."

Anger burned through me, sweeping faster than any wildfire. "Oh my God, Zack." I wanted to murder his mother and Joseph with my bare hands. "How did you survive?"

"A groundsman saw what happened and dived in, pulling me free."

"What happened to her—your mother?"

"Died that day."

Good, I wanted to scream. "Is that when you went to live with your father?"

"Yes."

My voice hitched and my bottom lip wobbled. "Did things get better?"

"My father came with his own issues, but he was nothing like my mother if that's what you're asking."

I pushed my plate away, doubting I could eat another bite. I felt sick, angry, and overwhelmingly sad.

"Looking back that trauma shaped me, it served as the most common excuse for adults to explain away my anger and rebellious stage and at fifteen my father under the advice of his newest wife suggested therapy."

"Did it help?"

A sly smile curled his lips. "I'd been seeing the doctor, a man called Dr Redmond for three months when he put his face in my crotch—under the guise of helping me. I spent eight months with him, the better part of that time with my dick in his mouth. He wanted to help me and I wanted my dick sucked, so it worked out well."

I jolted and he squeezed my hand tighter.

"It wasn't so bad."

"Bad?" I whispered, the word choking me a little. "He was supposed to help you deal with trauma, not to add to it!"

"Maybe, but I didn't have a flying fuck to give. I used that mouth for all it was worth."

I couldn't believe he meant that. He was still a child.

There was a long moment where I just stared at him before I managed to talk again. "First, I'm sorry... I'm sorry that they did that to you."

With flared nostrils he growled, "I don't want pity," his chest expanded and deflated but I knew his anger wasn't directed at me. "Or sympathy. I made my peace a long time ago."

It wasn't pity. The sadness I felt for young Zack, hell for Zack now, was so heavy, a real thing. I pressed my hand to the ache in my chest. Something had cleaved inside me.

I felt like I was only half aware, shaking my head in shock. "Secondly," pausing, "I need to know why you're telling me this now?"

"I carved a life for myself out in Kink because it gave me control without needing to connect to any person, and I've hidden behind it ever since...I'm a coward when it comes to opening up and I push anyone away if I've felt so much as a slither or affection toward them," he paused. "I'm not even sure if I know how to be normal."

"When you say affection, are you talking about—"

"Love?" He cut in with his brows drawing together over his piercing eyes. "Your dad asked if I was capable of love."

"And are you?"

"I don't feel the way other people do, Sasha. And I'm not particularly fond of the word love for obvious reasons, and I don't open up easily, if at all... however, here I am, confessing secrets I've never told anyone because I trust you. I want to let you in... but I'm not telling you this to absolve myself of what I did to you."

Even out here on the terrace, it felt claustrophobic almost suffocating. I let go of Zack's hand and instantly felt colder for it, but sitting back in my chair, I soaked in everything he'd confessed.

Zack picked up his drink and sipped. "Fuck, I wish I had something stronger."

"Stronger? What? You wanna get high or something?"

He stared at me for a moment then his chuckle broke the heaviness. "No. I don't like giving up control."

"Gee." I feigned surprise. "Shocker!"

He set his drink down, his face turning serious again. "I know I've fucked up, Sasha. I was cruel, unforgivable, and I know I shouldn't be here asking for you to even consider letting me make this right. You should hate me."

Hate him?  I couldn't hate him.

"But... now you know you're the only person I've allowed to see the shit show of my life. With all that and everything I did monumentally wrong. I'm here asking because I'm fucked up enough to hope that I haven't completely screwed up what the three of us had." His head dropped for a few beats before he fixed his dark eyes on mine again. "I don't want to let go of what you gave me, what you offered me so freely. But if you want me to leave you alone, I will. Just know that even for a little while, it was the best thing in my life."

I took a moment to gather myself, lowering my eyes to the table. Him sharing his horrendous childhood gave me a greater understanding of who Zack was. But was that enough to trust him with my heart? 

But try as I might to suppress my feelings, they refused to be silenced. With each passing second my resolve was crumbling like sand slipping through my fingers. I was teetering on the edge.

"Dance with me..."

The what now?  

My head shot up. "You dance?"

He pushed out his chair and rising he offered out his hand.

I hesitated for only a moment before I pushed out of my chair and took his hand. 

... Let's dance.