Page 41 of We Own Each Other

And there was nothing I could do to fix it.

Part Eight

Corin

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I HAD JUST wanted to feel something — something other than the pain in my chest and the confusion clouding my brain. When I saw the look on Anthony’s face, I realized what connected us all. Luke had connected us all. I should have known. The moment he told me he had been the live-in Sub of the Griff head, I should have made the connection then.

Luke’s reaction was still burning in my brain.

His brows were furrowed, gaze locked on the Sub in front of him.

He looked ashamed, horrified, and pitiful.

He looked nothing like the man I had met at the bar.

Meanwhile, all I wanted was for him to look at me.

Yes, rather than pitying Anthony or raging at Luke, I ultimately felt unadulterated jealousy. Luke was mine to destroy, so why had a Sub like Anthony been able to do it in my stead?

I was the disgusting one. I was supposed to be a therapist. Yet, I had become obsessed with a Dom who had connections to the upper echelon of the Dom world. Why? To sate my curiosity. I couldn’t admit it. I claimed to myself that it was because I just wanted to help that young, sad Dom, but that was so far from the truth.

Then I met his Sub, and that intrigued me even more.

And when it all culminated in the shit-show at the coffee shop, all I could feel was jealousy. Jealousy that my partner, a Switch, was so easily wrecked by someone other than me. Jealousy that he knew more about the Sub and Dom I wanted to dissect myself. Jealousy that Luke could easily leave me for a Sub or Dom if he so chose, because Switches couldn’t have fated partners. And it was all punctuated with intense shame at having felt any of these things at all.

Shame that all of those studies about Doms in my field were right. We were only out for ourselves, not to help our patients. Being a Switch was hard, but it had helped me get here because I wasn’t a full Dom. I was more trustworthy because I was a Switch.

But no.

If anything, that made it all worse. I knew Subs and Doms far too well, and I knew just how to manipulate them for my own selfish desires.

Even now, as tears soaked into my pillow, much of what lingered inside me was rage because all of my toys had been taken from me. Noah and Anthony wouldn’t contact me again, and I had just cast Luke out. I was a petulant child, no more and no less.

Yet, as I cursed myself, the searing pain across my cheek helped dampen some of the rage. I pressed a hand to that spot, comforted by the size of the mark that he no doubt left behind. I had dominating tendencies, sure, but there was nothing like being punished when I deserved it.

It was a pain that no amount of pleasure could touch.

There was a part of me that wanted to get up and go after him. I mean, he couldn’t have gone far. But I also just couldn’t handle the shame that would inevitably crash into me if I did.

So, instead, I reveled in my shame alone.

I was just deciding between drowning my sorrows at a bar or picking something up from a corner store so I could sulk drunk and alone at home, but then my phone buzzed.

I fully expected it to be Luke, and part of me hoped it was.

I wouldn’t answer him, not yet, at least, but maybe I’d work up the courage eventually.

But when I pulled up my phone, I didn’t see Luke’s name. Instead, it was the one name I never expected to see again. It was Noah.

I unlocked my phone and clicked into the message to find a string of commands:

anthony wants to meet and talk. just you. thursday the italian place on the corner by the coffee shop. 2pm.

I was all thumbs as I hastily typed out a reply, agreeing. I had to work that day, but with my life in shambles as it was, I was willing to call out to grasp at whatever straws I could, including this one.

Noah apparently read my message, but he didn’t respond. So, I scrolled through my messages, eventually landing on my conversation with Luke. We hadn’t really known each other all that long, so it wasn’t a surprise that there weren’t many messages, and what messages there were were mostly full of lusty flirtations. More shocking than that, though, was how long it had been since our last text session.