Page 50 of Unforgettable

24

Matthew

I knewthis was going to upset her. It isn’t that I wanted to go behind her back to set up an appointment with a psychiatrist, but I worried that she’d deny that there was a problem. She would laugh that fake laugh and tell me everything is fine and not to worry. I didn’t anticipate her anger, though. I figured she would be sad, not angry.

It breaks my heart when she pulls away from me in favor of pacing the room. This is the first time she hasn’t relied on me for comfort. It sucks. At first, her pacing seems like a way to work off excess nervous energy, but after a while, it morphs into something else.

Rose has her hands buried in her own hair, tugging at the long blonde locks. She’s muttering to herself, but I can’t make out what she’s saying. I try to reach out to her, but she shakes my hands away and keeps up her agitated movements.

Honestly, I’m tempted to call Dr. Klein and demand he come today. I’m out of my depth here, and that’s not something I admit lightly. Up to this point, I’ve been able to gauge her moods by reading her body language and other physical cues. Years of being a dominant have honed the skill making me able to anticipate her needs before she even realizes what those needs are. With this, I feel totally lost.

She needs more help than I can provide, and for a dominant like me, that’s a hard pill to swallow. I cross my arms and lean against the wall watching her pace and mutter and tug at her hair. The dom in me wants to roar at her to stop that the only one allowed to give her the sweet bite of pain is me. I’m a patient man when I need to be. I settle in and wait for my opportunity to break through the wall she’s thrown up between us.

Guilt gnaws away at me as I watch her struggle. It’s one thing to know she suffered horrible abuse; it’s another to see evidence of that abuse and how it’s impacted her. Those images of her tied down while being beaten and raped fucking haunt me. The pictures of her in the shower crying with blood and bruises marring every surface of her skin will never leave me. Picture after picture of my beautiful girl broken and bruised tear away at my sanity. A feral grin curves on my lips as I think of the pain the men in those pictures will feel at my hands.

When it is apparent that Rose isn’t going to come out of this on her own, I decide it’s time to stop the madness myself.

“Rose,” I say, using my no-nonsense dom voice. “Come here now.”