Chapter 9: The Edge of Jasmine: Chapter 9

FOR DAYS, SAMANTHA IGNORED ALL of Brian’s attempts to talk to her. He left messages on her cell phone and on her home phone, and when that didn’t work, he tried calling her boutique shop. The first time he did that, Kimberly picked up the phone, and she told Brian she would give Samantha the message he had called. After that, Samantha had Kimberly answer the phone every time it rang.

Samantha wanted to talk to him. She owed him that much. Brian probably had no idea why she was behaving this way, ignoring him and keeping her distance. Teenagers played the avoidance game, trying to act all dramatic and elusive, but she and Brian were adults. They needed to talk through this.

But more than that, Samantha missed Brian terribly. Her heart ached for him. She had never known before the old cliche was actually true, but it was: every time she thought of Brian, her chest would tighten, her breath would speed up, and her heart would physically ache. She found herself crying for no reason. She wanted to see him, get past this, relax in his embrace, feel his warmth and passion against her skin.

Often she would grab her phone and start to call him. But then the vision of that night would surface in her head, of Dana cuffed to the cross, quivering and flushed, and Brian standing behind her, the whip still poised in his hand. Every time Samantha remembered it, tears would spring to her eyes, and she would put down the phone.

Part of her felt stupid for feeling the way she did. After all, if Brian had wanted any kind of relationship with Dana beyond play, he would have pursued it long before. Like Dana loved to point out, she and Brian had known each other for a long time.

But then another part of Samantha would chastise herself for feeling stupid. She had gone to the club with Brian, as his sub and as his play partner. Why was he playing with another woman the moment she left the room?

Then Samantha would feel guilty for being jealous at all, for overthinking the situation, and for painting it with her own bias. Then she would get mad at Brian for making her feel guilty, and then she would feel stupid for being mad at Brian for making her feel something he had no control over…and the cycle would repeat.

It didn’t help Samantha had no one to talk to. Her sister wanted to help, she wanted Samantha to let her in, but Samantha couldn’t do it. Her sister would never understand the kind of relationship she and Brian shared.

“It’s obvious this jerk did something to you,” Kimberly said one morning over coffee. “Why won’t you talk to me about it?”

“Because Brian is not a jerk, he just did something that I don’t agree with,” Samantha said, feeling grateful once more her sister had been at Scott’s the night Samantha had come home from the club crying. “He and I haven’t talked about it yet. I don’t think it’s right for me to talk to you about it before I talk to him.”

“But that’s what sisters are for,” Kimberly replied, putting her coffee cup down hard. “I tell you about stuff going on between me and Scott.”

“Everything? You tell me everything?”

Kimberly shut her mouth. It had been obvious to Samantha for a while now something was going on between Scott and her sister, but Kimberly was being vague on the subject. Samantha had not seen Scott in days.

“Okay, so maybe there are some things between Scott and me I keep private,” Kimberly agreed. “But that’s because Scott asks me to keep that stuff between us. This is different.”

“No, it’s not.” Samantha rose from her chair and grabbed her purse. “I’m heading into the shop. I’ll see you later.” She made a quick exit before Kimberly could drag her back into the discussion.

That conversation had taken place a couple days ago, and while Kimberly still raised the subject now and then (especially after Brian would try to call), she didn’t press Samantha too hard. Samantha was grateful for that.

But the time away from Brian was killing her, and the fact that it was self-imposed only made her feel worse. The more time that went by, the more childish, petty, jealous and vindictive she felt. On the other hand, what Brian had done had hurt her feelings. He deserved to know why.

She decided enough was enough. It was a Friday night, and she always saw Brian on Friday nights. She still wanted to see him, and she felt ready to talk this through. Hopefully they could resolve it; if not, at least she would have closure.

Samantha’s boutique shop stayed open an hour later on Friday nights. Shoppers who normally rushed home during the week were more inclined to stop and do some shopping after work on Fridays. But tonight was damp and drizzly, and Samantha could see people rushing to their cars with their umbrellas at the ready. She doubted she’d get many people through the door.

Kimberly was already gathering up her stuff to go. She had a date with Scott, and was eager to be off.

“You sure you’ll be okay here on your own?” Kimberly asked. The question seemed to be rhetorical, since she was already putting on her jacket.

“I’ll be fine,” Samantha said. “It’s only a half hour till closing, and I doubt we’ll get anybody in now. You go have fun. Tell Scott I say hi.”

“I will.” She stopped. “Scott is worried about you too, you know. I told him about your guy problems. He says you’re welcome to hang with us anytime.”

“Tell Scott thank you,” Samantha said, surprised. “I appreciate the offer.” There was no way she’d take him up on it, the last thing she wanted was to be their third wheel again, but the gesture was touching.

“Okay,” Kimberly said, as she pulled her hood over her head and disappeared out the door.

True to Samantha’s prediction, nobody else came into the shop, and a half hour later, it was time to close up. She bolted the door to the street and had begun the quick process of counting the money in the register when she heard some noise coming from the back.

She froze.

The noise grew louder. There was a rustling sound, like papers being strown. Then she heard the unmistakable sound of boxes being opened and tipped.

“Who’s there?” She called. Every nerve ending on her body stood on end, and her heart thumped in her chest. “Kimberly, if this is a joke, it’s not funny.”

The noise stopped.

“Whoever’s back there, I’ve got a gun, and I’m not afraid to use it!” Her voice rose with hysteria. She had no gun, of course. She had no way to defend herself against an intruder. Dear God, she was a single woman alone in her own store; why didn’t she have a weapon?

The front door was bolted, and it needed a key to unbolt it, even from the inside. It would take a moment to unlock it. Samantha was locked in with an intruder who could be nothing but a thief, but could be someone worse. A lot worse. Her only option was to get the front door open as fast as possible and make a run for it.

Samantha searched desperately through her ring of keys, found the right one, and ran to the door. For one horrible moment, she fumbled with the key in the lock as she kept looking back over her shoulder for any sign of the intruder coming out of the back room. Her hands shook, and she sucked in breath with great wheezes in her panic. But the lock turned, and Samantha ran out into the street.

Nobody was out there, the street was deserted, but Samantha felt better just being out in the open. As soon as she had run a few stores down, she reached into her pocket for her cell phone. Thank God she had put it there when she’d decided earlier she would call Brian. Now she dialed 911.

The dispatcher was very calm and rational. He asked Samantha a bunch of questions, told her to stay where she was if that’s where she felt safe, and to wait for the police to show up.

Samantha leaned against the brick stone wall behind her. It was the wall of a coffee shop, now closed. All of the shops lining the street looked dark and deserted. Samantha didn’t feel so safe anymore, not even out in the open. She was still heaving for breath, and her eyes darted around in fear. Holding the cell phone with trembling fingers, she began to dial again.

Brian answered on the second ring.

“Sam,” he said, his voice warm and smooth. “I’m so glad you called.”

“Brian, I need help.” Her voice was far less smooth; she was crying into the phone. “Someone broke into the shop, I’m scared–”

“Where are you?”

“I’m at the coffee shop down a few doors from my store, but it’s closed, there’s nobody here–”

“I’m coming. I’m getting in my car right now. Stay on the phone with me, understand?”

“Yes.” She relaxed against the wall as some of her tension let go. Brian was coming. Brian would make sure everything was okay.

“Look around. Do any of the stores look open?”

“No.”

“Okay. Can you hide where you are?”

“Yes.” She crouched down into the shadows. “I’m scared.”

“I’m coming, Sam. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Just stay with me.”

A few moments later, Samantha heard sirens in the distance. “The police are coming,” she said.

“Good, that’s good. Stay down until you see them. I’m almost there, too.”

A police car stopped in front of her shop, and the officer got out. “Brian, the police are here. I have to go.”

“Okay. Do whatever they say, and be safe. I’m two minutes away.”

“Thank you, Brian.” She hung up and called out to the police officer, who was looking inside her shop.

Another police car showed up, and Samantha explained the situation. They entered her shop with guns drawn, ready to stake the place and see if the intruder was still inside. As Samantha waited for them next to one of the police cars, Brian’s car sped down the street and came to a screeching stop a few feet away. He got out and ran towards her.

“Sam!” He held his arms out.

Samantha ran right into them, crying. Brian gathered her up and held her close.

“You’re okay,” he said as he smoothed her hair and rubbed her back, holding her tight against his chest. “You’re okay.”

“I was so scared,” Samantha said in a tiny voice. Just then, one of the police officers came out of her shop, his gun re-holstered.

“It looks like someone was in your back room,” he said. “But he’s gone now. Your back door was unlocked, that’s how he got in. There’s no sign of forced entry.”

“But he’s gone now?” Samantha asked, still holding close to Brian.

“Yeah, he’s gone now. We’re calling in for forensics. The guy might’ve been stupid enough to leave prints, but I gotta tell you, it’s a longshot.” His partner came out, and they started talking to each other and on their radios.

Another car drove down the street, slowed down, and stopped a few doors away. Someone got out and rushed toward them. Samantha was shocked to see it was Scott.

“Samantha!” He yelled as he got closer. “Is everything okay?” He stopped when saw Brian, holding Samantha close. “What’s he doing here?” His voice came out a low growl.

“Someone broke into the shop, Scott,” Samantha said. “I had to call the police. I called Brian, too.”

“Why?” Scott asked, scowling. “I thought you two were having problems.”

Samantha was so taken aback by Scott’s hostility, she was momentarily speechless. “What are you doing here?” She got out. “And where’s Kimberly?”

“Kimberly’s back at my place. She, uh, forgot her phone in the shop. I offered to come get it, and hurried over when I saw all the police cars.” He continued to scowl at Brian. Brian looked back at him with an expression of curious interest.

“Maybe you should call Kim, and tell her what’s happened,” Samantha said. Looking disgruntled, Scott fished his phone out of his pocket and walked away as he dialed. Samantha looked up at Brian, giving him a look of confusion and embarrassment over Scott’s behavior. Brian just rubbed his head against her hair and squeezed her closer.

The two police officers walked up, looking bored. “Forensics will be here soon, but they’re finishing up at another address first.”

“Does Samantha need to stay here until they show up?” Brian asked. “Or can she go home?”

From behind them, Scott said, “I’ll take her home.” He was looking at Brian with a face full of rancor.

“No,” Brian said. “She’s coming back to my place.”

Scott opened his mouth as if to challenge him, but after looking from him to Samantha, he seemed to decide against it. “Samantha, don’t you want me to take you home?” He asked her, trying a different tactic. “I’m sure Kimberly will want to make sure you’re okay.”

Samantha didn’t have to think long at all. “I’m going to Brian’s place. I’m sure you can tell Kim what happened, and that I’m okay.”

Scott gave her a short, unhappy nod.

One of the police officers pulled out a notebook, eyeing both Brian and Samantha. “I’ll need you two to give me all your basic information, just in case I need to ask you anything later,” he said. “Addresses and phone numbers, please.”

Brian and Samantha gave the officer their information. Then Brian thanked everyone (including a fuming Scott) for their help, and led Samantha back to his car.

Samantha curled up in her seat as Brian drove. She began to shiver uncontrollably. Now that she was safe, her earlier terror was catching up with her, and she was going through adrenaline crash.

“Give me your hand.” Brian put out his hand, took Samantha’s, and brought it to his lips. “You’re safe, Sam.”

“I know. It was just…knowing someone was in the store with me, and I was all alone…the street door was locked, and I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to get out in time, or if he’d come after me….”

When they got back to Brian’s house, Brian sat her down on the sofa and made her a cup of tea. He sat next to her as she sipped it, his arm around her shoulders.

“Thank you so much for coming to get me, Brian,” Samantha said. She put her cup down and curled into his wide, warm body.

“Don’t even think about it,” he said. “Calling me was the right thing for you to do, you understand? You should always call me when you need help.”

Samantha’s eyes brimmed with tears. “But after what happened the other night, the way I treated you….”

“That has nothing to do with it. I am your Dom, Sam. You have to tell me when you need help.” He met her eyes. “Sam, do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir. I understand.” She squeezed him tighter. Her body was beginning to shiver again; even her teeth were chattering.

“Jesus, Samantha, you’re shaking,” Brian said.

“I can’t help it,” she said. Then she burst into tears.

Brian picked her up like a baby and carried her downstairs to the dungeon. Samantha closed her eyes as they descended, worried a little about falling, but feeling safe in his arms. He brought her to the large bathroom, turned on the shower, and waited for the water to get hot. Then he stripped her of her clothes, doffed his own clothes, and pulled her under the hot water with him.

Brian got some soap and began to wash away the sweat and fear from her body, lathering her up with soothing fingers and rubbing deep. He spent a long time on her hair. When he was done, he dried Samantha like a child, enveloping her in soft towels and rubbing her down. Then he dried himself, but didn’t bother putting a towel around his own body.

He carried her to the dungeon bed and climbed in with her, under the covers, until she was dry and warm. But Samantha was still tense. Every now and then, her body would shudder, and she would take a gasping breath.

“Don’t move,” Brian said. Getting out from under the blanket, he padded over to the wardrobe and came back holding coils of rope.

“What are–”

“Shh.” He leaned Samantha forward and began tying her arms together. Samantha didn’t protest. She was relieved to give control over to Brian, who wielded it with such practiced ease. She didn’t want to wonder what he was doing to her or why. She just wanted to give in.

He tied her legs next, looping the rope like lace, using intricate knots. Samantha relaxed into the process. Feeling his hands on her, watching his calm focus on the task at hand, soothed her somehow. She didn’t move or struggle.

By the time he was done, she was cradled in rope.

“Does it hurt anywhere?” He asked. “Can you move your hands and your feet?”

Samantha tested her bonds. She could straighten out her arms and legs a little, but not much.

“It doesn’t hurt anywhere,” she said. “But why am I tied?”

“So you’ll relax,” he said, joining her in the bed again. He draped the blanket over both of them and spooned her. Under the warming covers, he rubbed her legs, hip, and neck, not sexually, but to comfort and steady her. “I’m here. Nothing’s going to happen to you. Just relax, and try to sleep.”

“I don’t think I can sleep.”

“Listen to your Dom. Trust me. Close your eyes.”

Samantha closed her eyes. Brian kept rubbing her down, lulling her like a skittish horse, and Samantha could feel herself sink into bliss. The ropes held her body steady and tempered her mind, keeping her emotions from raging again. Brian’s commanding presence behind her allowed her stability and peace.

Samantha floated down into tranquil sleep.