Chapter 27

Ryker

If I don't reel myself in, this very instant, I'll explode and there's no way I'll be able to clean up the damage. This woman has unraveled me.

Groveling, check.

Flogging, check.

Forcing me to say I'm a great man? Hard stop.

I appreciate her effort—my back and ass haven't felt this good in a while—but I'm not about to lie to this woman. There's nothing good left in me. Those things she said about me being a protector and all? They don't make me great; they make me a decent human being.

Fuck, my body feels boneless. The impact of her strikes with that flogger grew harder and harder and now I'm melting. She did it perfectly, which is incredible for someone who's just learning basic methods of impact play. My girl's a natural.

When Dmitri flogs me, I'm already well-versed on how it will go, how it will feel, and the only sound between us is the crack of the whip on my back. There's no talking. The silence grounds us both and he's never gone too far. D knows the rhythm and pace I love that will ultimately drop me into a glorious subspace in a matter of minutes.

I trust him, implicitly.

Tara, on the other hand, just tipped my world upside down. She threw the importance of trust in my face and when I gave her some of mine, she bent it into something more.

Bless her heart.

It almost fucking worked, too. In the dark recess of my mind, I almost believed what she said could be true. Almost. She's sweet to think I'm all greatness and strength, but if she knew me—the real me—she'd run for the hills. I'm not a hero. I'm a villain. I came from nothing, and I still have nothing. I'm a piece of meat, a fantasy, a luxury. My anger and torment fuels everything I do. The need for ultimate control comes from years of not having any.

I've made my fortune off sex and being objectified while maintaining a club that's safe for my members to indulge in their most intimate desires. Tara's the first member of the club I've taken to my bed. She'll be the last one too. I can't put myself through this shit ever again.

"Say it. Say you're a great man."Her words have cut me bone deep, and I'm bleeding out. With every lash of her flogger, I sank deeper into my darkness, where I sit with my demons in peace. Now I have to claw my way back to the light. The only problem is my demons are going to come with me.

I warned her. I said to do her worst, because I wanted to return the favor.

This woman awakes a side of me that hasn't been touched in a long time…

I'm so fucking exhausted. Between patching up Dmitri's injuries, being up all night with my mom while she puked, and then getting a random call from one of my clients saying they wanted to meet up at four in the morning, my damn eyes are blurry.

Everything hurts. My head. My heart. My legs and back.

Pulling out my cell, I check to make sure I don't have any new messages. I should catch the bus back home, but I slowly walk towards the butterfly conservatory instead. It doesn't open until nine am, but sometimes I'm able to sneak in early and have the place to myself.

Ryker: You working today?

Knox: Yeah. Already here. U good?

Ryker: Be there in five. Let me in.

Knox: k

Massaging the back of my neck does little to ease the pressure. By the time I reach the employees only entrance of the conservatory, Knox is already waiting with the door open. His brown staff shirt isn't even tucked in.

"You look like shit."

"Thanks." I pat his cheek and slip by him to head inside. "How long do I have?"

"'Bout forty minutes."

I can't stay that long.

The heavy door slams shut, plunging us into darkness. Stuffing my hands in my pockets, I navigate through the lockers, tables, and greenhouse area for new plants, and push open a set of beige doors that dump me into the conservatory. Humid, warm air hits my face, and though the morning light streams in from the glass ceiling, it's still a little dark in here.

Or maybe it's my mood.

Fuck, I wish I was in my hoodie and jeans right now. I'm sick of wearing suits. Sick of sewing buttons back on my shirts and reinforcing my pockets. I make a lot of money, but none of it goes to shit for me. Every dime is for my mom and her medical bills, our rent, electricity, and groceries. The rest is for her pills, which I've begun to rely too heavily on Natalie to get for me.

My ass drops onto a bench and the last of the air leaves my lungs with a heavy sigh. It's so quiet in here. So calm and peaceful. Bright flowers and large green leaves surround me. If I try hard enough, I can almost trick my mind into thinking I'm in a faraway jungle where no one can touch me, and my life isn't real. But that's not happening today. The soreness in my ass and roll of twenties in my pocket verifies that I'm a whore.

Little plaques with information about different butterfly species are scattered around. There's a painting of a yellow brick road on the concrete floor, paving the way through the building. I've wandered that path a million times. It never takes me anywhere except right back to where I started.

Knox sets out bits of fruits on small pedestals, but he doesn't look at me or talk.

I love that about him. He always knows when to speak and when to leave me the hell alone. Dmitri's the same. The three of us have been through some shit, and we're still praying we make it out to the other side of our personal hells. Vault has already. His survival gives the rest of us hope.

Unlike my mom.

She's so much worse now. How has she hung on this long? Why?

Tears prick my eyes as dark thoughts crowd me. I'm torn apart. One piece of me wants to spend as much time with her as possible, so I feel guilty sitting in my sanctuary right now. Another piece of me wishes I could do more for her. Another piece of me hates what I've already done for her. And there's even a part of me that wishes she would die so this could be over.

I double over and hold my empty stomach. What kind of son am I to think shit like that?

I'm a fucking bastard. A piece of shit.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I force my emotions back into their boxes and scrub my face. Jesus Christ, I think I'm going to puke. I'd walk out into oncoming traffic if I didn't have to go home to take care of my mom. But without me, she has no one, so suicide can't happen.

Yet.

Will I want to die after she does?

I can't imagine my life without her. Fuck, I can't imagine my life at all. Is being a sex worker all I'm good for? Fucking isn't a skill I can put on a resume. After being laid off from my construction job last month, the struggle to find something new has really put shit in perspective for me. I can't make our bills flipping burgers or stocking shelves. I can't go back to school to get my diploma. What's a GED going to get me, anyway? It's not like college will be an option for me. I need fast, big money, not minimum wage and long hours away from my dying mother.

I'm so fucking stuck. I'm so fucking exhausted. I'm so fucking defeated.

Anger and sorrow fill me to the brim. It builds, builds, builds until I tip my head back and roar.

My voice cracks. My throat hurts. Tears fall down my cheeks as I fucking sob like a baby. I hate myself. I hate my life. What the fuck did I do to deserve this shit? The tears won't stop. I don't even try to wipe them away. It's like the floodgates to my soul have blown to smithereens and what flows out is uncontrollable.

I sob for my mom. I sob for myself. I sob for Dmitri and Knox and even Natalie.

We're all in Hell.

We're all fucked.

We're all destined for a lifetime of misery.

By the time I have nothing left in me to cry with, my head's banging and I feel numb. Jesus fucking Christ, I'm a mental case. I can't think straight anymore.

Leaning back on the bench, I close my eyes and pretend I'm anywhere else but here. I let the humid air fill my lungs. The sound of water trickling is my solace.

Then my ass vibrates with an incoming call. Pulling it out takes work because I'm still shaking from my meltdown. "Hey." I clear my throat and try again. "Hey, what's up?"

"Oh good, you're awake."

Resting my elbows on my knees, I pinch the bridge of my nose and close my eyes. "Just out for a walk. What do you need, Natalie?" I'm not telling her about my client this morning. I got her on my own, and there's no way I'll split the payout with Natalie. In fact, I've grown my own secret client list without her and have every intention of keeping her in the dark about it.

"Jackson Barre wants you for lunch."

Jesus. That man's golden shower fetish annoys me. "You take him."

"He's specifically requesting you, Ry."

"I'm busy."

"He figured you'd say that. Says he'll pay triple for one hour."

Triple? That's… shit, that's more than I've made in the past two nights. "My mom's—"

"I'll sit with your mom, sweetie. Go and do this. It's only an hour. You can do anything for an hour."

Scrubbing my face, I groan. I need sleep. Food. And apparently a lot of water now. "Fine. Tell him I'll meet him at eleven at his place." That will give me about two hours to get home, shower, feed my mom, and get there. "Can I borrow your car?" If not, I'll have to take the bus and walk the rest, which will eat up more precious time.

"Yeah, sure. But I get a third of your cut."

God. Damnit. "Fuck off, Nat."

"It's only fair. I've been the liaison between you and Jackson every time."

Because I won't give that asshole my personal cell number. I think he likes how evasive I am—maybe he considers me more valuable because I'm not easily accessible. Who knows?

"Fine." Even if I didn't have Nat as the middleman, she's still helping me take care of my mom when I'm on these dates. Her time costs money, too, even if she's never asked a dime to look after my mom.

"Are you at the conservatory?"

Leaning back on the bench, I sigh. "Yeah." She only knows that because she's likely pulled my location from Snapchat. We try to keep tabs on each other for safety reasons.

"Don't stay long," she chides, even though her tone is soft and understanding. "And make sure you drink a lot of water before you go. Make it rain, Ryker. Make it rain."

She hangs up and I've suddenly lost my desire to stay here and find my peace of mind.

Standing up, I stretch my arms over my head and half the bones in my body snap, crackle, and pop. A monarch butterfly lands where I was just sitting, her little wings open and close slowly as she crawls across the slats of the bench. Holding my finger out, I wonder if she'll climb on.

She doesn't.

Instead, the orange and black beauty flutters away and I lose sight of her amidst the greenery.

"They're poisonous, did you know that?" Knox slowly approaches from my left side. "They eat milkweed, which has toxins that's harmful to animals. But the toxins don't ever hurt the butterfly, so they gobble it up, build an immunity to it, and taste bad to animals that try to eat them."

I have no idea why Knox is telling me this. "Cool."

"Yeah. It is. Maybe we all need to take a page outta their book, right? Like, just be toxic. No one will fuck with you if you are and you can flutter around and live your life being just out of everyone's reach. If someone gets too close, they'll taste how awful you are and leave you the fuck alone."

Knox's hand trembles when he places another piece of fruit on a pedestal. "Hey man. You okay?"

"Of course." He pulls a what the fuck face on me. "I'm always good, Ry."

No, he's not. "You still clean?"

His face contorts with anger. "The fuck kind of question is that? Yes, I'm clean."

Putting my hands up, I step back. "Just checking, bro. You know how we worry."

"Well stop. You and D have enough on your minds as it is. I'm not using again. I swear."

"What's with the shaky hands then?"

"Too much caffeine."

I can't tell if he's lying or not. "You sure you're okay?" He looks too thin, especially now that his shirt's tucked in. "When was the last time you had a decent meal, Knox?"

"Yesterday. Morning."

Damnit. "Here." I dig out my earnings from earlier and pull off two twenties. "If you need more, tell me."

"No, man. I don't need that."

"Take it." I shove it against his chest. "Consider it my early entrance fee to the conservatory."

Knox shakes his head. "You know that's never necessary."

"Yeah, well, eating is. So, get yourself something good and hearty today, understand me?" If he takes this money home and puts it with his paycheck, his pops will find the cash and blow it on blackjack or something. Knox is all I care about in that house and, given how he's a couple of years younger than me, I feel protective of him like he's my little brother.

"Thanks, Ry."

"No problem." Slapping him on the back, I head out through the employees only area and leave the conservatory, my friend, and my peace of mind behind. The world is awake, hungry, and needy.

And I've got what it wants.

"Get on your knees and open wide, Butterfly. It's time to put your fucking mouth to work."

Tara sinks down without a word and opens her pretty pink lips and sticks out her tongue. Stroking my dick with one hand, I stick my thumb in her mouth and love how she closes her lips around it.

"Suck," I say calmly. The flat of her tongue is soft as she sucks me like a pacifier. That's not something she can do with my dick. It's too thick for that. "Good girl." I push my hips forward. "Suck on my balls."

Tara releases my thumb and goes in for the heavy weights I'm offering. She pulls one into her mouth, making me groan. While she works my balls over, one at a time, I lick my wet thumb.

It's the closest I'll get to tasting her saliva because I refuse to kiss her on the mouth. Kissing is for people who care, which I do not.

"You feel so good, Butterfly." She flutters her eyes open to look up at me. "Now I'm going to face-fuck you, and if you can't take it, tap my leg. Understand?"

Tara pulls away long enough to say, "Yes, Sir."

I'm disappointed with how fast she changed from Domme in charge to a little submissive kitten, but I'm also relieved. Looks like she's a Switch, like me.

Cradling her head in my hands, I thrust into her mouth. Tara gags and gurgles and makes all kinds of sweet, messy noises while I ram my dick down her throat. She taps my leg and I pull out, even though I'm so fucking close to coming that I'm shaking. "You good, Butterfly?"

Her breaths saw out of her. Drool coats her chin. Her eyes are glassy and cheeks beautifully flushed. "My jaw hurts."

Too bad. "Open."

She does, and it makes me pause. "How bad does it hurt?"

Tara's brow furrows. "Bad. But I want to keep going. I want to taste your come, Sir."

I don't want her in pain just to chase down my pleasure. No kink shaming, but that's just not for me. "I'll give you a taste, Butterfly." Swiping the drool off her chin, I add my own spit to it and jerk myself off with her waiting impatiently for my load. "Tell me you want it."

"I want it. I want all of it." She leans forward and sucks on one of my balls again, pulling it into her mouth until my eyes cross.

"Fuck, woman." I jerk off faster. "Stick out your tongue, baby."

She releases my balls and does what I ask. I come all over her tongue and lips. One rope lands on her chin and I swipe it, gathering it on my thumb before I stick it in her mouth. "Suck it clean."

Tara does everything I say.

"Did you swallow every drop?"

"Yes, Sir."

Cupping her chin, I stare down at her. "Let me see." The room spins when she opens her mouth and sticks her tongue out. She swallowed my entire orgasm. "Such a good girl."

"I want more." Tara leans forward and grabs my balls again. I pull back. "Please?" she begs. "I want you to sound like that again, Sir."

Sound like what? "What noise did you like?"

If I know what makes her melt, I'll figure out what makes her freeze too.

"My name," she says, paralyzing me.

I didn't say her name, did I? Wait. No. Wait. Did I?

Fuck.

"You just screamed my name like it was…" She clams up and backs away. Pulling up to her feet, Tara shakes her head. "Never mind. It's stupid."

I grab her arm, stopping her from walking away from me. "How did I say it?" Morbid curiosity alone has me almost begging to know her answer.

"Like… you've been in Hell and…" Her gaze softens. "And I was the angel that pulled you out."

She rips her arm out of my grip and disappears into the bathroom, leaving me naked and alone in the suite with my heart in my hands.

Shit.