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swamp of
uncertainty.
    There’s blood on his shirt. Not too much, I
can see right away it’s not his. I swallow hard, not wanting to
think about whose blood it might be. There are too many
possibilities, none of them good. But I have to ask. I have to
know.
    “What happened?” I cringe, not knowing if he
will reprimand me or simply answer the question. And I’m so mixed
up, I don’t know which I’d prefer.
    “Lee was shot. Again. He’s going to be all
right, the lucky bastard, and far as I can tell that fucking mess
with his ex-wife is over.”
    I wince at the sound of that name. Shot? My
stomach cramps so hard I gag and start shaking all over. I’m having
difficulty breathing, too, and my vision might be blurring. Oh, no,
those are tears. Fuck .
    Lee’s ex-wife, Cara, is a pretty well-known
journalist. While working on an investigative story she got into an
awful jam with some very unpleasant people and Lee was trying to
help her out. Unfortunately, that got him shot and his girlfriend,
Savannah, nearly abducted last weekend.
    I could ask Todd how the situation was
resolved, and how Lee got shot again, but I don’t really want to
know. I’m relieved it’s finally over but I don’t need or want the
specifics. As it is, I’m struggling with my own emotions; anger,
worry, heartbreak, and regret. They’re all mixed up in one big
quagmire. The particulars would only make it worse.
    Todd steps closer and puts his hand on top of
my head, a surprising gesture of reassurance from him.
    “It’s okay, Jen. Promise.”
    I don’t know what he’s thinking, but he looks
sad, which bothers me a lot and makes my heart feel tight. I lean
forward and rub my face against his thigh. His jeans are rough on
my cheek. It’s not unpleasant, rather a tactile sensation that
holds me in the moment: keeps me from getting lost in a jumble of
worry and sadness.
    “You want to get this over with, don’t you?”
His voice takes on that husky quality it has during a scene and my
skin breaks out in goose bumps. I shift on my knees, squeezing my
thighs tight with a thrill of excitement.
    I do want it now. I’ve been miserable waiting
for him to get back, driving myself crazy with it. And I want to
leave. The future seems like a dark, empty cavern. I don’t know
what’s waiting for me, but I’m not going to start feeling better
until I take the first step into it. Because the one thing I do
know for certain, there’s nothing for me in the past. So I nod,
unable to give voice to my thoughts.
    “Go wait in the bedroom. I’ll be right
there.” He glances at my bags and I wonder if he would’ve asked me
to leave if I weren’t already going. I can’t really take the time
to think about that though, because he’s just standing there
waiting for me to move and I don’t want to test his patience. I
start to stand but he pushes me back down on my knees with a shake
of his head. He wants me to crawl. He’s not usually big on
humiliation but I guess he’s trying to prove a point today. A point
that, if I’m being honest, I probably have coming.
    I turn on my hands and knees and make my way
down the hall to the bedrooms, my head hanging low with
embarrassment. I know he’s watching me go because, for one thing, I
haven’t heard him move. But also, I just know. By now, we have
enough of a history together, enough of a connection. Even when I’m
bound, blindfolded, and wearing earplugs I can sense him and his
movements which means now, with my senses unimpaired, I’m
hyper-aware.
    The foyer is tiled and my knees are sore from
the time spent kneeling there. At first, the carpeted hallway is a
nice, softly-padded relief, but it isn’t long though before the rug
burn sets in and my skin stings with it. Fortunately, I haven’t far
to go, and when I reach the bedroom, I sit on the floor next to the
bed to examine my knees until I hear Todd coming down the hallway.
I scramble back into a kneel and arch my back a little to show