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  • Writer's pictureGina A. Jones

Saving Ash (book #2) Chapter-eight




Ash



I don’t know whether to call my therapist, or Victor. I rushed out of there like a madman. Why did I think I could do this? Am I trying to recreate what never was? Something that only lived in my head.


But something did exist between us—Pippa and I. Something that only I understood. Even within the lifestyle, I still haven’t been fully satisfied—only content.


I’m driving in the dark, not a clue as to where I’m going. Maybe I deserve to be alone. No, I know I deserve to be alone and held in the clutches of a dark hell reserved only for me.


Maybe that’s where I’ll find her.


How much has Hunter told Cinder? Hunter has his secrets as well. But unlike myself, he has been able to leave things in the past. Most times, it’s hard to look at him…knowing what happened between us all those years ago.


Cinder will ask more questions. It’s the deal we made. I must give her something of myself. But my story goes far back, levels of abuse turned into tortures of desire. There is no fixing me. And do I want to be?


And then there’s Christopher…


Where do I even start?


My phone begins ringing through the car, and I see my father’s face on the screen. Why of all times, now?


I need a distraction, and so I answer his call, tapping the button on the steering wheel.


“Hello, Father.”



“Ash, are you back in the city?”


I could tell him I’m out of the country but his sources will tell him otherwise.


“Yes. I’ve been back for a few weeks.”


“Is something wrong, son? There seems to be some discomfort in your voice.”


“No, nothing is wrong. Just a bad week at work.”


“Yes, you and all of Wall Street.”


If only it were that. Money has no bearing on my situation.


“Son, I’m telling you and not asking. This Saturday…”


“Yes, Dad. I know what this Saturday is. And I really see no reason to continue torturing ourselves.”


“Son, I know it was hard to lose your mother…”


“She wasn’t my mother,” I shout through the car.


“Son, she loved you like you were her own. And I know how much you cared for Christopher.”


Christopher. He will never know how hard losing Christopher was for me.


“It’s only respectable that we honor your mother and brother each year.”


“Trust me, they live in my soul everyday. And I know you don’t want to hear it, but I wish it would go away.”


“Ash, son. I know how hard it is, and I’m the only one you have to share in your grieving. So, don’t shut me out. Be there this Saturday. That’s an order.”


The call ends. My father has spoken and once again, I’ll return to living in my step-mother’s shadow.


It’s late, so I decide to stop by Victor’s. I hope he’s not with Sasha. The two have been dom and submissive for years. I know deep down, Victor loves Sasha, but he will never say it out loud. To keep a submissive for years speaks volumes for one who lives the lifestyle.


“Call Victor,” I tell my phone. It rings, and he picks up.


“Ash”


“Victor, I hope I didn’t call at a bad time?”


“No, Sasha is out with friends tonight. You need to talk?”


“Yes. Or punished. You decide.”


“The door is open. See you soon,” he says and ends the call.


I reach Victor’s penthouse and park my car in the parking garage. The elevator doors swing open and take me to his private floor. Like he said, his door is open, waiting on my arrival.


Walking in, I see a bourbon has already been poured for me.


“It sounded like you could use it,” he says, nodding his questionable eyes to the glass filled with amber liquid.


“Yes, thank you.”


Taking the glass, I walk over and take a seat across from him. The lights are low with a fire burning low in the fireplace.


“So, Ash. What is this about?”


“My new sub,” I lie.


A low chuckle hums in his throat. I should have known he would see right through me. He takes a drink of his bourbon and then a puff on his cigar. I watch the end glow red. It takes me back to my room downstairs in Providence.


“I think I’ve fucked up. I’ve taken a sub without contracting her.”


“I see. And is she living in your penthouse?”


“Yes, the one I reserve for my subs.”


Victor is a silent pillar, burning me with those eyes of his. Rarely, does Victor need to speak. One look, and he rules any room.


“I ran out tonight. Flashbacks from my past returned. I didn’t know how to deal with it. So, I took a drive and now…here I am.”


He crosses his leg, resting on the other. “Master Sinclair, I think it’s time you get a handle of this past of yours. I know it’s the reason you are in the lifestyle. You’re a good dom. Women seem to be attracted to you in different ways. And I think that is where you’re troubles lie.”


“What do you mean?”


“Most doms do not show weakness. Weakness for your sub is understandable. What they are willing to give us is most priceless. Therefore, we crave their submission, which is a form of weakness. But you, Master Sinclair, show a weakness that is hurting you. Women love this in any man. Women want a man who can only be fixed by them. She wants to be the key—the answer to all his problems.”


He’s right. With every woman I have taken as a submissive, each has wanted to fix me. Be my rock. Is this what Cinder is trying to do?


“Now, is this girl…and I will say girl because she’s so young, is she trying to fix what you don’t want fixed?”


“Yes. No. Maybe. But I’m the one who sought her out. She left me. I was crushed and I don’t understand why.”


Another low rumble bounces in his chest. “Master Sinclair. Could it be you have met the one?”


“The one?”


“Yes, the one. To live forever under your control.”


“Like you and Sasha?”


“Perhaps. Sasha is free to go whenever she wants. Yet, she chooses to stay. She no longer needs my financial assistants. She’s a very independent woman. Strong and passionate.”


“Do you love her, Victor?”


For once, I’ve stumped him. Victor has always been the Sensei for all my woes, never leaving me in the dark for what I need to hear.


“Master Sinclair, I believe you came here tonight seeking advice for your predicament. And not to discuss my relations with Sasha.”


Brilliant. His spin doctors at work.


“Sorry. Yes, this is true.”


I take a hefty swallow of the bourbon, knowing what I’m about to ask. “Have you ever talked about your past? I’m not digging for information about you and Sasha, I need to know for myself.”


“With Sasha, yes.”


“But what if your past was dark—very dark?”


“Then she would have a better understanding for my needs. Isn’t that why we are all here? To feel something that has shaped us?”


“Yes. But what if what shaped us…others see as something else?”


“Such as?”


“Abuse.”


“Abuse. Have you dealt with it yourself?”


“Yes, for me. But what if it’s unacceptable for someone else?”


Victor takes another puff of his cigar, a plume of smoke wafts around his head. “Master Sinclair, as long as it has worked in your benefit, what does it matter what others think?”


“Because for me…the abuse was…dubious. I participated when I didn’t have to. And sometimes…I anticipated it.”


“We’re you ever in fear for your life?”


“No.”


“Master Sinclair, this is the most you have shared with me. I’ve always known there was something in your past that brought you to us. For whatever the reason, I  have let you keep your silence. But mind you, I’ve always had my eye on you, making sure limits were not broken. And…you’ve never broken them to my knowledge. So my questions to you is, do you think you have broken out of your own limits?”


I take a deep breath and think for a minute. “I don’t know what my limits are because there seems to be none. Except for one.”


“Which is?”


“Finding what that limit is. That’s where I stop. I know nothing else.”

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angie jones
Mar 13
Rated 5 out of 5 stars.

Like where this is going , hopefully in the right direction for ash !!!

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shannon Cheripka
Mar 11
Rated 5 out of 5 stars.

Ash is making progress and and that is a good thing!!

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Gina A. Jones
Gina A. Jones
Mar 11
Replying to

Yes it is. 🥰

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Gina A. Jones
Gina A. Jones
Mar 11
Rated 5 out of 5 stars.

He’s needs to chill.

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Gina A. Jones
Gina A. Jones
Mar 11
Rated 5 out of 5 stars.

I need to talk to Master Victor and a stiff bourbon.

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