AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“There’s a voicemail. Play it.”
I don’t want to. I take the phone, knowing Inez is watching my every move. The voicemail is from just a few minutes ago. I have no choice; I hit play.
“Hey, Bliss. It’s me. Work called and said you weren’t there. I know this sounds crazy, but Inez didn’t show up today, either. If she shows up, don’t let her in, okay? Maybe I’m just being paranoid, but I just got a bad feeling. Daddy’s on her way. Hold tight.”
“Daddy?” Inez holds the gun straight out and I move backwards until my back is against the wall. The tip of the muzzle is inches from my head. “She’s your fucking Daddy now?”
She drops my phone, grabs me by the throat, slams me backwards. A picture to my left falls from the wall. Inez’s face is inches from mine. “You lying little whore That doesn’t sound like someone who wants to break up. That sounds like someone who cares.” Her voice begins to shake. “It’s not fair for you to be getting what I deserve. I’m not going to let that happen. I’m…”
A flashback. My father looming over me. His rage at my daring to love someone. His fury at me for following my heart. My helplessness and a child’s desire for the strength to defend myself. I’m not a child anymore. I’m a grown woman and I’m not going to let another hateful person rob me of my happiness. I drive my knee into her groin and find that it works almost as well on a woman as it does on a man. Inez doubles over in shock and I take that split second of surprise to grab the lamp off the table to my right and slam it into the side of her head. She goes down, but somehow drags me with her. I hear a clatter. From my peripheral vision I see the gun she’s dropped slide across the wood floor.
I can’t let her get it. She tries to roll away. I jump onto her back with a scream, wrapping my arms and legs around her as I try to wrench her back down. She’s got a good thirty pounds on me but the adrenaline coursing through my system gives me more strength than I expected. She falls to the side. I have her neck in a bear hug. I scream as her fingernails drag bloody wheals down my forearms but miraculously, I keep my grip.
Inez stretches her arm out, reaching for the gun. I dig my heels into the floor to keep her from dragging me towards it, but she’s gaining her own strength from the rage. Panic wells within me as she inches towards the gun. I try to pivot the both of us around so that once we’re close enough I can kick it further away without letting her go.
“Bliss?” I hear someone call my name. It’s Tandy. No. No. No.
“Stay away!” I cry. “Call the police! Don’t come in!”
The sound of Tandy’s voice gives Inez a surge of strength. We’re inches from the gun. I hear the sound of a key in the lock. Tandy is ignoring my instruction.
“No!” I cry. “Don’t!” I try again to pull my body over Inez’s. If I can just pin her but I can’t. She’s nearly reached the grip of the pistol. She opens her hand. Everything moves in slow motion.
The next thing I see is a black boot. It hits the pistol, sending it flying into the kitchen. There’s a scream, but I don’t know who it’s from. I feel myself dragged to my feet, but no one is holding me. It takes a second to realize that Tandy has lifted Inez, but because I’m still holding on to her, I’m raised up as well. I let go in shock and fall back.
Inez is wild with rage. She’s screaming at Tandy, yelling, threatening. Tandy is trying to hold her off. I crawl to the kitchen and grab the gun where it’s come to rest by the air conditioning vent. Tandy’s back is to me so she can’t see when I hide it in the trash can.
My phone is on the floor. I call 911, but by the time the dispatcher comes on the line, Tandy has subdued Inez, who lays under her weeping like a lost child. Tandy’s eyes meet mine. Hers are filled with so many emotions – shock, fright, sadness, and pity. I know she feels as I do about Inez. It’s hard to see someone you know go off the deep end.
Later, after the police arrest Inez, get statements, and review the apartment security footage, Tandy and I sit on the sofa in silence. There are still tears in her eyes; I’d never seen her cry until after the police car pulled away.
“You could have been killed,” she said. “You could have been killed.”
“You heard the cops. The gun wasn’t even loaded, Tandy.”
“But it could have been.” She sobs.
“It wasn’t.” I put my arm around her. In spite of the fact that I’m safe, I can’t help but feel responsible. I tell her this.
“How?” she asks.
I sigh. “You two have a history, Tandy. Inez was here before me, before Celeste, even. It must have been torture for her, loving you like she did and seeing you with me.”
“Baby girl, whatever Inez had for me, that wasn’t love. Inez is a deep well of need. She doesn’t like pain. She craves it in an unhealthy way. That’s why I stopped doing scenes with her. A relationship with someone like that would exhaust me. If I made a mistake, it was never just spelling it out for her, but she was so combative that I never got around to telling her straight up that it was useless carrying a torch for me. I figured she’d get the message.” She shakes her head. “I sure as hell didn’t figure something like this would happen.”
“Tandy.” I lay my head on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey.” She pivots towards me and takes my face in her hands. “Stop apologizing. Daddy doesn’t like it.”
“What if I do something Daddy does like?” I ask.
I stand, holding out my hand. We go to my bedroom. The bed is still unmade from last night. I lay her down. I want to comfort her, to hold her. We lay face to face, chest to chest, thigh to thigh. I kiss her. She returns the kiss. We make love, slowly and gently, in the afternoon light.
Inez. Celeste. Tandy. Me. Selma. I can understand how love makes you take chances, makes you crazy, makes you hurt, makes you fly. It’s so powerful and depending on the environment or person can be a gift or a curse. I know the arc of our relationship will continue to curve, to develop. We are very different – different enough to have our own identities. I love that she’s a tattooed dominant badass. I love that she’s Daddy. I love that she’s has achieved icon status in the BDSM community. She loves that I now have the strength to act on years of repressed sexuality. She loves that I’m a girly girl who plays with Barbies and spends her days managing a garden center and talking to plants. She loves that I’m her baby girl. She loves that I appreciate the club scene but will probably never be as into it as she is.
She loves me. And I love her. And today that feels like just enough.
Chapter sixteen
