Page 43 of Axe Marks the Spot

Lindsey lets her emotions flow, and I visualize sitting on the bed next to her, wiping away her tears. I don’t know how long we sit on the phone, but by the time her sobs end, I know she’s exhausted herself to near sleep.

“You did good today. You took care of yourself, put yourself first. Now get some rest.”

“Is that an order, Sir?”

The huskiness of her voice makes my cheek twitch. “Rest,” I say in a harder tone. “That is an order.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“No, thank you for trusting me. I’ll be looking for your check-in tomorrow morning.”

“It will be there.”

“Good. Now rest.”

“You, too, Sir.”

She hangs up before I can say anything back, and I stare at my phone for a long while after the call ends. There’s something different about Lindsey, and if I’m not careful, I’m going to fuck things up between us.

She obviously needs me. But as of this moment, right now, I can’t find it in myself to question anything I’m feeling further. Helping her feels right, and my fingers itch to do something I haven’t done in a while.

I get up from my chair and head to where I keep my paint supplies, pulling out a blank canvas.

16

Lindsey

WHO KNEW THAT HAVING a good cry over the phone to your online Dom could be as much of a release as a good orgasm? Not me. Though an orgasm would’ve been a lot more fun and kinder on my eyeballs. They have felt sore all day from my late-night sob fest, but I do feel lighter in a way I haven’t in a long time.

When I woke up late this morning, I thought I would feel embarrassed. But to my surprise, I didn’t. While I cried and raged when I found out Jeremy had cheated on me, and I’ve cried since then, I haven’t cried the way I did last night. I haven’t simply let myself feel and get it out. There’s something about DomInTheWoods that makes me feel safe, even if we’ve just started working together. His voice is like a warm hug, and when he said he was here for me, that he’d take care of me, I believed him.

I think it was easier, too, because we don’t know each other, because I don’t have to worry about facing him. I could let myself go without someone staring at me or giving me a pitying look. I didn’t feel the need to hide from him like I do with my family. I didn’t have to be strong for him, I could just…surrender. And isn’t that why I decided to work with him in the first place?

One thing the cry did prevent me from doing was telling him about Kas. While packing my lunch and doing my routine, I’d thought about it and had planned to come clean. But with a clear head this morning, I realized that I don’t need to. I told Sir I have someone who depends on me, who needs my attention. That was enough for him to help me see I need to take care of myself, too, even if I know that will take time to learn.

I did better this morning, which I was proud of. I got up with my alarm, no snoozing. I let Kas sleep in as I did my morning routine, sent Sir my check-in, and then got Kas ready for the first day of her obstacle course. We even went for brunch and then to the General Store together. I was able to thank Carlee and Hollyn for their delicious sandwiches that also saved me from making dinner last night since there were enough to take some extras home. Carlee joked about how the rest of their customers were upset since the anonymous donor cleared them out at lunchtime. But she was happy that we were all fed and enjoyed the food.

Now, Kas and I are heading out the door for her obstacle course class. They’re holding it at the public park in town. Thankfully, it’s free and will run for four weeks until school starts back up. She’ll miss one week when she visits her dad, but she still wanted to do it.

Kas is buzzing in the car, and I still find it hard to believe she’s this excited over an obstacle course. Especially when she’s been spending so much time with her video games.

“Did you drink my coffee?” I ask her as we drive away from our cabin.

We make eye contact in the rearview mirror, and she scrunches her nose. “No, that stuff tastes like dirt smells.”

I chuckle as I turn onto the road that will take us into town. “When were you drinking enough coffee to decide that?”

“I wasn’t. I tasted it once, and that was enough.”

“I think it tastes good.”

“Good to know you like dirt, Mom.”

I shake my head at my kid. “If you didn’t drink coffee, were you eating sugar?”

“Just the pancakes earlier. Why?”

“Because you’re practically vibrating back there. Are you excited or nervous about the course?” I ask while maintaining my focus on the road. It’s a short drive to the park, which is nice. It also means I can come back home and take a nap before my shift—if I can get my brain to calm down enough to let me rest, that is. Put yourself first, Lindsey, I remind myself, though it’s in Sir’s voice when I hear it.