Page 58 of Beautiful Disaster

“Have you had enough to eat, my pet?” he asks when I swallow my last bite. It’s just enough food to feel satiated, but not stuffed.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Please take away the empty container, put it in the dishwasher, then bring a glass of whiskey to the covered porch and start the fire in there. You’ll wait for me on your pillow, next to my chair, while I finish eating.”

With my mouth shut, as I do all that I’m told, I grab my pillow, place it on the floor, sit, and wait.

The room isn’t very warm, but it will be soon from the fire I just started. I hold my legs and shiver a little. As the fire grows, it heats my skin, and I relax.

Mason finally comes in and sits on the chair. He takes a sip of his drink and plays with my hair with his free hand. I’m instantly relaxed by his touch.

I rest my head on his knee as he touches me like I really am precious. I’m not, but I almost feel it. Still, it’s not enough to stop the ear ringing and memories of my past from intruding. I’ll do anything to keep from being punished like that again.

“You’re free to speak, my pet.”

I wrap my arms around his leg and stare out at the twinkling lights of people’s homes on the dark mountains. Like the last time, it’s easy to open up to him, though I’m worried I’m having thoughts I shouldn’t. “Is it weird that I miss it sometimes? Even as traumatic as it was?” I whisper as I stare at the fire, my eyes starting to glaze over, blurring as I look back at my past.

“What do you mean?” His fingers are soothing, keeping me in the present.

“Sometimes life was simpler. You never had to make decisions. You just obeyed.”

“Jinx…”

His tone tells me he’s going to start questioning our relationship again. “Don’t. This is different. This is fun. This doesn’t have terror if you disobey—only pleasure. What we do has consent and trust. But I’m also having to face some shit that I’ve been trying hard to bury.” I sigh and play with the hair on his legs, under his jeans, which I like to do so much. It’s soft. “Sorry for swearing. I’m just saying it feels wrong to look back on any of it as if it were better. Because it wasn’t. I didn’t always hate Tito. Sometimes I even believed him when he told me I got what I deserved. He tried to be good to me, but I wouldn’t let him.”

“Jinx, that’s abusive. You know that, right?”

“I do. And before you tell me again how you used that same tactic on me, it was consensual. You’re protective. Besides, I’ve talked about this in therapy. My doctor called it ‘trauma bonding,’ even as I was terrified of Tito. He was all I knew. A lot of us tried to bond with him as a survival mechanism. He never cared, though. He was always cruel. There was never a moment he used kind words to get us to comply, as some abusers do. It was always a terrifying experience when he was in a mood. The rest of the time, he left us alone unless he was horny. Then he’d just fuck us. That wasn’t so bad.”

“I’m not experienced in such things, Jinx, but I think that makes sense. The mind often copes and adapts as best as it can to survive.”

“I miss them, too. The rest of the boys. I don’t know where they are now. They were our family. A dysfunctional family, for sure. Aleks seems to be the only one not fucked in the head. Don’t get me wrong. He has PTSD, nightmares, and every once in a while, he’ll have a panic attack, but I don’t know how he smiles so much. It seems so easy for him, while I feel like I’m grasping for something out of thin air.”

“I wish I had some insightful words for you.”

“You don’t need to. It kind of feels good to tell my story without placating words or explanations on why I feel the way I do. This is better.”

I close my eyes as he digs his fingers into my scalp, massaging it. My body starts to melt and relax. His touch makes it easier to push the tension away.

“Do you want to know a secret?” I ask. “Something I haven’t told anyone?”

A small gasp escapes him. “You can tell me anything, Precious. I’d be honored to hear it all.”

I sigh again and roll my head so my forehead is pressed to his knee. He can’t see me. “I hate myself. So fucking much. I may come across as strong and confident, and shit, but it’s all an act. None of it’s real. While I have tons of fu—fudging issues, I’m not stupid. I think that’s why I fail in so many relationships. I don’t want anyone to know the real me, even if they understand what I’ve gone through. I know this because it falls off as soon as someone I care about leaves the room. It’s like I can feel its heavy weight drop. It’s exhausting wearing the mask all the time, and when it slips, they see me. Then they run. They all run. I don’t really know why I’m telling you this.” I try to pull away, but Mason grabs my hair to hold me still.

“Perhaps you need to get it off your chest before you can move forward. What we’re doing and planning to do will bring up a lot of issues. Things we keep hidden. We’re forced to look in the mirror and admit who we truly are. To accept it and better ourselves. We can’t fix it if we don’t face it. And you can always trust me.”

I glance up at him. He looks so strong, powerful, and handsome from down here. The confidence oozes from him. You know he’s in his element. His true self. Is this mine? Am I meant to be here at his feet, worshiping him?

“Did you?” I ask.

“Did I what? Look into the mirror?”

“Yeah.”

Mason releases my hair and fingers back some rogue bangs. He has a small smile on his face, and his eyes are wistful as he stares at the fire. “So many times, my pet. So many times. And I’m having to face it again with you after so many years of denying my true self. It was my punishment.”

“Can you tell me about it?”