Hear Me

A chill ran through me, but it was just that overzealous AC again. Not like the cool moist air by the water, the smell of trees and rain…

She doesn’t belong here. I shivered, as if I heard Brendan’s voice right beside me.

As if unlocked, more disembodied words played in the same dreaded voice, the sound hollow like a lone wolf’s howl. Don’t you love me? Don’t you trust me? I’m doing this for you, not just me. You want to be the best submissive. I want that for you too. I’ll be so proud of you.

I do want to be a good submissive, came my fervent voice. I just don’t understand why you can’t train me. What will they do that you can’t?

You don’t understand. This is hardcore, not the kind of thing we can do in public or in my condo.

Well, I don’t see how I can leave my job for a whole month.

You won’t work when you’re with me, anyway. Stop being selfish, Melody.

God, that was creepy. And not real at all. Brendan had never said any of that to me. My mind had taken my darkest insecurities and deepest hopes and set them to a damn scary tune. I felt bad about leaving Sam to return to my life here—that had to be where this was coming from. But that’s all it was: a soundtrack to a nightmare.

Just forget about all of that, Anya had told me over lunch while I stared out the window, seeing only glass and concrete and smog. Then she scolded me for not paying attention when she was helping me. A rueful smile tilted my lips. If anyone was going to scold me, I’d rather it were Sam. At least he would give me a spanking afterward.

That was exactly the kind of thing that would set her off again.

Sam had abused my weakened state, she said. That wasn’t real BDSM.

Well, he had abused something all right. My ass.

Traumatic bonding, she had read online somewhere.

We had both agreed that sounded kinky.

Well, she was probably right about my mind being all messed up. But maybe it didn’t matter. If I wanted to be with Sam and he liked me this way, it should be enough. Every day, I believed a little bit more. It could be enough.

I had been so confused when I first got back, lost. Everything had seemed foreign at the beginning. Now I examined the apartment with new eyes, like an investigator looking for clues. Who am I? And why would anyone want to live in this sterilized bubble of an apartment?

Clothes hung in the closet, neat. The cabinets were stacked with toiletries and linens, everything so orderly. I remembered this as my apartment; it just didn’t feel lived in.

I went to the fridge where some cut fruit and a jar of milk sat in the front. It was otherwise empty. No clue as to what I had eaten before, no rotten telltale food. Someone must have cleaned it out when I had gone missing. That was smart, not creepy. A missing persons report had been filed, police had been through here.

Despite my own vigorous assurances, I sat on the couch with my arms wrapped around my waist, hunched over as if invisible enemies might storm through the walls. I couldn’t just sit here. I needed to talk to someone.

Not Anya, because I had definitely used up as much support time as she could spare. Besides I wasn’t looking forward to another lecture on how a random Dom could beat me into healing. Been there, done that.

I flipped through the numbers on my phone. My old cell phone had disappeared when I did and never been found. This was a new fancy thing that I couldn’t really figure out, and the only numbers on here were Anya’s and a few other people’s I barely knew. As I stared at the cluttered screen, the phone vibrated and rang. I jumped, startled, and didn’t relax much when I saw who was calling.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Ms. Cole. This is Detective Hines.”

Willy had called every week since I got back, but it had only been a few days since his last check-in. What could be wrong? I smoothed my hands over my skirt and told myself to get a grip. “What is it?”

“I finally got your old phone records here. They were sealed up real tight. Are you sure you don’t know anyone who’d have the motive or influence to do something like that?”

“No, I… ” That was the problem. I couldn’t remember everything. This life seemed so flat, so empty. Had I really lived like this? “I think I’m just your average girl.”

“An average girl with a boyfriend, looks like. One number appears pretty often, especially leading up to your disappearance. Know anyone by the name of Pike? Brendan Pike?”

A rushing sound filled my ears, drowning out his next words. “I don’t know,” I mumbled. “I’m sorry. I don’t know.”

The phone slipped from my fingers. Hines’s voice, tinny and small now, buzzed from the ground, and all I could think was: I really don’t belong here. I had to get out. Grabbing my purse, I took the elevator downstairs but paused in front of the doorman.

I would have passed him every day, but he gave me a blank look. “Can I help you?”