Page 12 of Becoming

“Yes. I think she’s avoiding you,” Rebecca answered truthfully with a touch of mirth. It was true, however. Whenever her aunt was around, Hunter tended to disappear. In the short amount of time Rebecca had known the doctor, she sensed there was something going on in her life that she may not be ready to face. Maybe Hunter was afraid Aunt Wills would see that and begin shrinking her. Rebecca chuckled silently at the thought.

“Story of my life,” Willamena muttered playfully. “Fine, I realize I can’t stop you from leaving.” She ignored her niece’s sarcastic “thank you,” and continued. “But, please tell me you’re not going back to that place.” She had been horrified to learn what Rebecca had been going through. Guilt settled in all nice and cozy. She should have noticed something. She was a psychiatrist for chrissake. Once again, she sent up heartfelt apologies to her sister.

Rebecca’s actions faltered slightly. “No. It was Samantha’s place.” And it was filled with ghosts of the past. “While being stuck in here with nothing to do, I was able to find a small bungalow to move into.”

“I wish you would come home to New York with me.” So, I can keep an eye on you, Willamena added silently.

“Aunt Wills,” Rebecca warned softly. They had had this conversation countless times since her aunt showed up. She could see that her aunt felt the weight of responsibility on her shoulders, and that bothered her. Rebecca had done a remarkable job of hiding what was happening. Nothing that happened to her was her aunt’s fault. “She can’t hurt me anymore and I’m not running from a ghost. Besides, I still have the club.”

Another subject of conflict. Wills wanted Rebecca to sell the club and be done with everything having to do with Samantha. Rebecca, on the other hand, had more than one reason to keep the club. None of which she wanted to discuss with her aunt at the moment.

“You are the most stubborn person. Your mother…”

“Would be proud?” Rebecca finished with a laugh. “You know I get it from her.”

“I believe even she would have issues with this decision, Becca. Especially after all you’ve been through.”

“Which is exactly why I have to stay and do this, Aunt Wills. If I run and hide, she wins anyway.”

“There’s no shame in taking some time to recuperate your body and soul, Becca. You’ve been on the go since, well since you were born. Take a sabbatical. Travel around the world. Do something for just you.”

Rebecca sighed and sat down on the bed. She couldn’t deny that what Aunt Wills was suggesting sounded wonderful. Especially since she could still feel the effects of the beating. On the one hand, she had been lucky enough that the only things broken were her nose, eye socket, and ribs. She had been afraid her arm was broken, but it had turned out to be a dislocated shoulder. Even so, she was still weak, and it took her a moment longer than normal to catch her breath due to the lung that had been punctured. Sutures from the surgery to remove her spleen—and mend other things inside—ached. Mentally, she was trying to come to terms with everything she had lost.

“The problem with that is it gives me time to think. If I think, I’ll wonder why I wasn’t strong enough to leave her.” She held up her hand when Wills began to argue. “I know how you feel, okay. And, maybe one day I’ll get there. I have a lot to learn about myself, but I think I need to do it in my own way. Not by traveling, but by taking back control of my life.”

Wills studied her niece. Something told her she probably wasn’t going to like what Rebecca had in mind, but she would stand by her nonetheless. In fact, she would do whatever it took to make up for not being there.

“How do you plan on doing that?”

“By doing things on my terms now. The club is mine and I intend to start doing things my way. Samantha’s hold on that place—and me—is… over, Aunt Wills. I need to know I can do this.”

Wills nodded. That was something she could understand. “Very well. I can take a couple more weeks off, stay here until you’re set.”

“Not necessary.” Rebecca hopped off the bed and immediately regretted it. Her ribs still hurt like a bitch. She shook it off and walked over to her aunt, taking her hands. “I know you want to protect me, Aunt Wills. We can talk every day or email, but I have to do this myself. You have to let me do this myself.”

“You’re asking me to go against all of my training, and my instincts, Becca.”

“I know.”

Wills sighed. “All right. On one condition. I hear from you daily, at least in the beginning. And, if something like this happens again, you tell me immediately. And, I want weekly sessions with you.”

Rebecca raised a blonde brow. “That’s three conditions. Is it ethical to counsel a family member?”

“Screw semantics and ethics. I want to make sure you’re okay. I know you, Becca. You won’t go to another therapist, so you’re stuck with me.”

Rebecca laughed softly. “I agree with calling, texting, or emailing you daily. I won’t allow anything like this to ever happen again.” I’ve learned my lesson. “And, I only agree to weekly therapy sessions if I get the family discount.”

Willamena’s lips twitched. “You’re quite the negotiator.” She held her hand out to Rebecca. “Deal.”

Rebecca took her aunt’s hand, shook it once, and pulled her in for a hug. “Thank you.”

Willamena pushed her back enough to frame her face with her hands and look her in the eyes. One iris was still red from the burst blood vessels, and both eyes were underlined by fading bruises. Even with the blemishes, Rebecca was beautiful and captivating.

“Please, don’t shut me out again, Becca.”

“I promise.”

REBECCA SAT IN her newly renovated office. It was here that she dominated over everything she had re-built. The once small, semi-profitable club was now a two-story, high-end lounge where entrance was by application and invitation only. Yes, it still held much of Samantha’s BDSM vision, but gone was the old staff, mediocre vendors, and greedy investors. In their place were professionals that were meticulously vetted by Rebecca before they were even brought in for an interview. She had strict rules, and if they were not adhered to, there were no second chances. None of them met the real Rebecca Cuinn. Instead, they encountered leather-clad, mask-wearing Mistress. It was a mystery to them who she really was, and that’s exactly what Rebecca wanted.