Breaking Bedrock (Book Two) (3 page)

Determined to clear her mind, Addie used the ladies’
room and slipped out the back door, happy to have to walk a little farther than
necessary back to her car. Thankfully, the rain had let up and was once again
just a light drizzle. Addie stared at her phone. Maybe she should call Patrick
and ask him to dinner. She needed to tell him she was going back to work, and
knowing it wasn’t going to go over very well, she figured it might as well
happen in a public place.

As she reached to dial her phone, it rang, startling her. “Uh.
Hello.”

The deep voice that responded threw her off. “You’re looking
incredibly beautiful today, Mrs. Greyer. That shade of blue when damp . . . Wow.
It really compliments your eyes”

Addison inhaled sharply, noting her surroundings. She didn’t even
have to ask who it was. This was one voice she’d never forget.
Stay on the
phone, until you get to safety. It’s your best bet.

“What? Cat got your tongue? Such a silly girl, losing your
security detail like that. Don’t you know I’m always watching?”

Addie picked up her pace until she was practically sprinting.
Run
towards the crowd.
“You’re under a restraining order, Scott. Why are you
calling me?”

“Ha. Ha. Oh just a little hello for old times’ sake. You get
brownie points, you know, for staying away from that loser, Hartman. Such a
good girl. But you fucked up, Mrs. Greyer. You know it, and I know it.”

Click.

Sondra left the baby with the nanny and suited up. True
to form William Hartman showed up at Sondra’s place exactly to the minute,
wearing faded jeans and a black T-shirt. It wasn’t like William to dress so
sloppily for a session. Sondra knew he needed to be worked hard. This was
William’s way of being asked for punishment. She knew her client well, and she
understood that with everything going on he felt more out of control than ever.
That was the thing about men with his persona, especially men who had been
abused as children. They required control but they also needed an outlet in
which to let it all go.

Sondra intended to give William exactly what he needed. The
problem with William, though, was that every time he walked through the door,
he took her breath away. He was one of the most beautiful men Sondra had ever
seen. He was the teacher’s-pet type; that was for sure. But it was William’s
charm that drew you in and held your attention. He had a gentleness you could
see underneath his tough masculine exterior that made you want to be tougher on
him and coddle him at the same time.

William entered Sondra’s personal dungeon and closed the door
behind him. He didn’t make eye contact, but his mere presence made Sondra a
little uneasy. William Hartman had always been one of her favorite and most
difficult clients. William sat in the chair in the middle of the room, eyes
glued to the floor. Sondra brought him the iPod and instructed him to press
play. Handing him the bottle, Sondra lowered her voice. “Make me a drink the
way I like it.” William poured the drink with extreme care as though his life
depended on it. He lifted the glass towards Sondra without meeting her gaze.
Taking a sip, she choked. “This tastes like you look. LIKE FUCKING SHIT.”
Sondra slammed the glass onto the floor, startling William. “You never can get
it right. Can you? No. That’s just what happens with fuckups.”

Sondra leaned over, her lips grazing William’s ear as he
continued to stare at the floor as though his life depended on it. “Get on your
knees and pick up this goddamned mess you’ve made.” Pulling his hair and
shoving him to the floor, Sondra pressed her heel into glass, smashing it
further. Meticulously picking up every single tiny piece, William quickly found
his large hands full of glass shards. He held it up towards Sondra like an
offering, but she raised her nine-inch heel and drop kicked his hands, causing
glass to go flying. William stayed put, eyes glued to the floor.

Sondra grabbed him by his left ear, dragging him towards the
chair. “Guess you can’t fucking hear either, huh? Such a worthless piece of
shit, you are. A fucking waste of space.”

Placing a few glass shards on the seat of the chair, she ordered
William to sit and placed a rope around his chest, tying it as tightly as she
could. Once William was secured and bound so tightly it made it difficult to
breathe, she placed the blindfold. For this, Sondra left out the gag on
purpose. William Hartman needed to be able to speak. Getting this out was
imperative to his recovery; it was time to cut to the core.

“Today we’re going to play a little game otherwise known as a
Q&A session, okay? Can your inferior stupid little mind grasp this concept,
William?”

Head hung, William nodded.

“Good. Now what would put the idea in that small little mind of
yours to have me blackmail that silly girl to come back to the company? Do you
really think she wants you, William? Do you think you’re capable of being
loved?”

When William didn’t respond, Sondra struck him across the chest
with the whip. “Let’s try this again. Shall we?”

It took five more lashings for William to respond. He drew in a
deep breath and whispered, “Because I love her, and deep down, I know she loves
me too.”

Sondra hit him again. “She left you, can’t you see that? You are
unlovable, aren’t you? That’s why she doesn’t want to be with you. Isn’t it?”

No response.
Whack.
Sondra put all of her force into it
this time. William flinched as she moved closer, tangling her fingers in his jet-black
hair and pulling. Sondra drew her hand back. “Answer me, William. You’ve got one,
two—”

“Okay. OKAY! No. I mean, yes. She called it off, but she does
love me. I know she does.”

Sondra pulled harder. “And how do you know this, Mr. Hartman. Do
you think you’re capable of being loved?”

“I don’t know. But with her, I believe there’s the possibility.”

She released his hair. “So you believe this girl loves you? That
you are capable of loving and being loved?”

“Yes.”

Sondra slowly untied him and removed the blindfold.

“My work here is done for today.”

William smiled. “That’s it?”

Sondra poured a drink and raised her glass. “Here’s to the possibility,
Mr. Hartman. Now get out.”

William stood to go.

“Oh, and William?”

He turned and eyed her quizzically.

“If you ever fucking smile at me again in my dungeon, I’m going
to make you wish you hadn’t.”

Four

Addison asked Patrick to meet her at their favorite
downtown restaurant. The lighting was soft, and the food amazing, but the best
part was the ambiance was neither too loud nor too quiet. She knew she would
have her work cut out for her with Patrick, but she was done with words left
unspoken, with pretending that everything was okay. It clearly wasn’t. Even
though she’d ended it with William, she’d realized that her marriage had been
over a long time ago and it was time to get her life together.

Addie had been well-prepared to do what she needed to do up until
the second she saw Patrick walk in. He was dressed in his business suit, tie
unfastened, and Addie watched as he talked with the maître d’, certain she could
almost see the young man in him that she’d met on that college campus years
ago. Way back when love was enough and neither of them could foresee any of the
issues that would eventually lead to their demise. The only thing worse than
losing her gumption in that moment, was the fact that she couldn’t pinpoint
just when the demise of their marriage had begun. All she knew was that somehow
they had each in their own way equally contributed. That was the thing she
found difficult about marriage—it was so individual, so complex.

Patrick spotted her and smiled slightly. He bent down to kiss her
on the cheek and then quickly slid into his seat and motioned to their
surroundings as if to say, “What’s up?”

Addie inhaled sharply as the waitress finished taking their drink
order. She’d originally chosen a glass of the house wine, but Patrick had
insisted on ordering their finest champagne. He always had known how to deter
her. “So—” she began.

“We’ve always loved this place.”

“Patrick, I need to talk to you, and I need you to listen. And I
mean
really
listen.”

Leaning back in his chair and intertwining his hands behind his
head, he smirked. “I’m all ears.”

“I’m going back to the agency on Monday, resuming my position as
an account manager. I’ve decided that not only is it time but that it’s in
everyone’s best interest.” Addie insisted.

“The hell it is.” He replied sharply.

“Look. I’ve made my decision, and I’m letting you know. How long
do you intend to keep this up, Patrick? I think we both know it isn’t working.
Our marriage has been over for a long time.”

“Says who?”

“I say.”

“Well, I beg to differ. Tell me you don’t love me anymore, Addie.
I dare you to say it. Thing is you can’t, and we both know it.”

So he was going in for the kill.
“Of course I do. You’re
the father of my children, but that isn’t enough.”

Patrick leaned forward and lowered his voice almost to a whisper.
“Who says
you
get to decide what’s enough?”

“I’m not happy, Patrick. Are you?”

“I’m happy enough. Jesus, Addie, what do you want from me?”

“I want a divorce, Patrick.”

Patrick ran his fingers through his hair. “Well, there’s one I’ve
never heard before.”

Addison sat up straight and looked him straight in the eye. “I’m
serious, and I’m hoping that we can work together civilly so that it happens as
smoothly as possible for the kids.”

Patrick swallowed hard. “That’s bullshit, Addison. You want this
to work as smoothly as possible for YOU. You don’t give a fuck about anyone but
yourself.”

Addie shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “That’s not true. Deep
down you know that, Patrick. I’m sorry you’re angry. I’m sorry you find it
necessary to try and blackmail me by threatening to take the boys. But I mean .
. . Come on. Is this really how you want it to end? Do you want an all-out
showdown? Or can we, please, just settle this like responsible adults? Like
responsible parents? Please, Patrick? I’m asking you not to tie my hands here.”

“Now that’s an expression you know well, isn’t it? You’re used to
being the one to tie hands. Guess isn’t so fun when the tables are turned, now
is it?”

Addie sighed. “Patrick, please.”

Patrick stood and walked to Addie’s side of the table. Leaning so
close she could feel the heat of his breath on her ear, he whispered. “I’m not
breaking my family apart unless you’ve got a better goddamned reason than you
not being happy. Give me a fucking break, Addison. You want a divorce, huh?
Well, go for it. Just don’t expect me to make it easy on you as you tear our
family to shreds. I know what you’re up to. And good luck, honey. I say, ‘May
the best man win.’”

And with that he turned and walked out on her.

Patrick was damned if he’d let his wife make a fool out
of him anymore that she already had. His life was slowly unraveling, and he had
to do something about it. Yeah, okay, sure, he loved Addison, but what woman
was worth any of this trouble? He’d always been a good husband, a little
absent, maybe, but he’d always provided for his family.

He knew Addison though, and he knew that when she wanted
something sure enough she’d find a way to get it. So he did what he’d always
done when he was scared of losing and dialed his mother, who insisted on
scheduling an appointment with the family’s attorney, which was how Patrick
found himself sitting in an oversized office chair, staring at his wedding ring
and wondering how it had come to this.

“So let me get this right, Mrs. Greyer. Your daughter-in-law was
unfaithful, is currently about to take the stand in a case where the defendant
is proposing that she was involved in some sort of sex scene gone bad, and you
are telling me that she is planning on filing for divorce and asking for full
custody of the children? Patrick, how about you? Would you agree with your
mother’s account of the situation?”