"You're afraid of ending up like me," she says softly."Abandoned with a child and stacking medical bills."
"Dad didn't leave because you got sick," I remind her."He left because he's a selfish asshole who couldn't handle being a father."
"Language," she chides mildly."And yes, your father made his choices.Bad ones.But that doesn't mean every man will make the same choices, Skye."
I shrug, uncomfortable with the direction the conversation is taking."It doesn't matter.Like I said, it's new.Probably nothing."
Mom looks skeptical but lets it drop, turning the conversation to a new meditation app her oncologist recommended.We spend the rest of the evening watching a cooking show on Netflix, with Mom dozing off occasionally in her recliner.
While she watches TV, I text Gage back.
Gage:Working on some papers.Thinking about you.
The simple admission, thinking about you, shouldn't affect me the way it does.
Me:Careful.People might think you're getting soft.
Gage:Only around you, it seems.
I laugh despite myself.Even in text, he manages to sound both commanding and tender.
Me:I should let you work.
Gage:I'd rather talk to you.But yes, I have a stack of research to get through.
Me:What do you do?
Gage:We'll save that conversation for Tuesday.
I frown at the screen but don't push it.We all have our secrets, our private parts of our lives.If he needs to keep his professional life separate from whatever this is between us, I can respect that.
Me:Tuesday it is.
By the time I tuck my mom into bed, she's exhausted but smiling."Love you, honey," she murmurs as I pull the covers up around her.
"Love you too, Mom.I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"
She nods, already drifting off.I stand in the doorway, watching her for a moment, my heart heavy.The doctors are optimistic about her prognosis, but the treatments are brutal.I hate seeing her like this.My strong, vibrant mother reduced to naps and soup and handful after handful of pills.
As I drive home, my mind circles back to Gage.To my reluctance to let anyone get close.To the walls I've built to protect myself from the possibility of loss and abandonment.
My phone buzzes at a stoplight.It's him.
Gage:Sweet dreams, Skye.
I set my phone aside as I pull into my apartment complex, trying to quiet the conflicting voices in my head.The one telling me to run before I get hurt.The one urging me to leap, to take a chance, to see where this might lead.
I've never been good at leaping.Or trusting.Life taught me early on that people leave, and depending on others leads to disappointment.
But as I crawl into bed that night, my body still bearing the faint marks of Gage's attention, I find myself wondering if maybe, just maybe, he might be different.
And that thought terrifies me more than any bondage ever could.
Chapter 6
Agent X
I'vebeensittinginmy car for exactly seven minutes, and I'm already regretting the coffee I downed before starting this stakeout.The thermos on my passenger seat is mocking me with its remaining contents, but my bladder won't survive another cup.For someone who's supposed to be conducting discreet surveillance, I'm already failing at the most basic requirement, comfort.I can't linger too long.Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes at most before someone notices.Security has been tight lately.Too tight.