I only had one problem—I didn’t know where to begin. I thought about everything I knew to be true about Val. I remembered her saying she liked daisies. Then again, she’d also said her husband used to buy them for her. She didn’t need to be reminded of that asshole. It was probably best to skip flowers altogether.
I knew she liked vanilla lattes, and I got the impression she didn’t treat herself to them very often. Perhaps I could start there. Bringing her coffee was a thoughtful gesture and not something that should make her feel pressured. Still, that didn’t seem like it would be enough.
Leaning over, I opened the drawer of the end table next to the sofa and pulled out a piece of jewelry that I hadn’t looked at in a long while—the earring lost by a runaway bride so many years ago. Holding it between my thumb and forefinger, I twisted it around and thought about the many times I’d stared at it, wondering what happened to the girl who got away. Now that she was back, I had to figure out how to keep her so I didn’t lose her again.
Letting out a frustrated breath, I placed the earring back in the drawer, still not sure why I’d kept it all of this time. Just as I was about to close the drawer, a tattered paperback copy of Awaken the Giant Within by Tony Robbins caught my eye. I pulled it out and fanned the pages. I stopped at the dedication page and read the first couple of lines.
“Dedicated to the unlimited power that lies sleeping with you. Let it slumber no more.”
I’d read the book when I was thinking about venturing into entrepreneurship. I found Robbins to be a powerful communicator and a great authority on the subject of personal success. I had also found his creative psychology to be beneficial in more ways than one. He was a great life coach, and I often quoted him when trying to motivate clients at the gym who struggled with self-confidence.
I wondered if there was anything in the book that could help me with Val. She’d come a long way in her training sessions, but I could still see how she lacked confidence in her ability. I wanted her to see the spark that I saw—that burning fire deep in her belly that believed she was strong, beautiful, and capable.
In order to get her to see all the amazing things I did, I had to figure out what made her tick. I tapped my thumb against the cover of the book as I racked my brain in search of ideas. I quickly realized that I shouldn’t be focusing on what I did know about her, but rather what I didn’t know. What was her favorite color? What was her favorite movie or book? What did she like to do in her free time? The questions were endless. Knowing those little details would go a long way as I worked to earn her trust.
And her heart.
Maisie jumped down from her perch on the couch, went over to the front door, and began to scratch at it.
“Gotta go out, girl?”
Standing up, I grabbed a beer from the fridge, cracked it open, and met her at the door. Once her leash and harness were secure, I allowed her to lead the way to the elevator that would take us to the roof.
While Maisie sniffed around the fenced-in grassy patch for the perfect place to do her business, I took a seat on one of the Adirondack chairs available for tenants to use on nights such as these. The air was unusually warm for early November, but the slight breeze made for a perfect night outdoors. If the forecast was any indication, it was probably the last warm night of the year. Snow would be moving in soon, along with wind that would make the rooftop patio a miserable place to be.
Stretching my legs out, I took a long swig of the Five Boroughs hoppy lager. I looked out over the East River, past the Queensboro Bridge to the Empire State Building and the Chrysler Building. The skyline was alive with lights from the city that never sleeps, illuminating the deep purples and shades of blue left behind by the setting sun. The landscape made me think about the tourists who came to the Big Apple from all over the world. Val was still relatively new to the area. I wondered how far she’d ventured.
Perhaps she’d be interested in sightseeing?
We could explore the rich culture and history of the city, slowly getting to know each other while staying within the boundaries she set. Greenwich was always a fun place to visit. I wondered if she’d enjoy discovering the streets where Simon and Garfunkel made a name for themselves. Then there were the holidays to consider. Christmas in New York was like no place else. Would she enjoy seeing Bloomingdale’s window displays or the tree in Rockefeller Center? Did she ice skate? Hell, I didn’t even know if she liked Christmas.
I ran a frustrated hand through my hair just as Maisie made her way back to me, sitting down near my feet. Leaning down to scratch her behind her ears, she looked up at me with big black eyes, her tail wagging happily from my simple gesture of affection. She reminded me little things could make a big difference.
I was overthinking all this.
I was a simple guy with an uncomplicated life. I needed to make uncomplicated plans—and taking Val for a walk in Central Park with Maisie was as simple as it got. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I planned to call Val and see if she wanted to do exactly that this upcoming weekend. However, as I stared at the numbers on the screen, another realization came over me.
I didn’t even have her damn phone number.
I looked at Maisie and frowned.
“Well, girl… it looks like we really have our work cut out for us.”
Part V
Born Again
21
Ethan
Cincinnati, Ohio
Six Months Later
I gripped the wooden paddle that had once given me so much pleasure and stared down at the bloodied naked body of my beautiful dominatrix. Cynthia’s lifeless body laid still, the blood from her wounds staining the pristine, white carpet of my West 4th Street condo.
She wasn’t dead—at least not yet.
“It’s your fault,” I spat out. “You just had to ask too many questions.”
“What happened to your wife, Ethan? Nobody has seen her in months. The Commissioner asked me about her. Why would he want to know where she is?”
Fuck her—which I did—and fuck the inept, my-daddy-got-me-the-job Police Commissioner Greyson. Why did they care about where Gianna was? Especially Cynthia. She was my mistress and should have no interest in my girl.
So many damned questions…
Now here we were.
I shook my head.
It was such a shame. I thought I’d have a little more time with this one.
The floral smell of Chantilly still lingered in the air as I tossed the paddle on the floor next to Cynthia’s head. The room was finally peacefully silent, a stark contrast to what it had been only moments before. Of course, she had screamed—they all screamed.
I shouldn’t relish in it.
But I did—just like I reveled in her pain.
It didn’t matter how loud she cried out for help. Nobody could have possibly heard her as long as we were in this room. My mother made sure of that many years ago when we’d moved here after that unfortunate incident with Jenny in Salt Lake City. Looking around at the white, soundproof walls, I could almost picture my mother standing by the door, shaking her finger at me.
“Cry and scream all you want, my boy. Nobody will hear you. Only He can hear.”