Free The Ex by Abigail Barnette Page B

for the explicit details of what Stephen had done to him. All I knew was that Neil had been bound, and he’d panicked. He’d forgotten his safe word, and Stephen had claimed he didn’t know Neil wanted him to stop. Neil had hurt himself struggling. That was enough for me, but if Neil needed to unburden himself, I could be the one to listen. “I meant it when I said you don’t have to do this by yourself.”
    Though he didn’t answer me, we moved with the same intention into the den. He shut the door, even though we were alone. I sat on the couch as he paced around the billiard table, tapping his fingers nervously on the rail. For a very long time, he didn’t say anything. It was utterly silent, and unnerving.
    Finally, he started talking. “I met Stephen at the campus kink club. It was an unofficial gathering. Everyone invited came by word of mouth. Really just a chance for the same kids to get together and talk about sex every Saturday.”
    It sounded like he had fond memories of the club, if not the man he’d met there.
    Neil picked up a cube of chalk from the table and juggled it like dice in his hand. “I knew Domination was something I was interested in exploring, and Stephen was very sure of himself and his skills. Naturally, I was flattered that he wanted to train me. He was so good-looking.”
    “Yeah, I bet. Look at his sister.” I could admit that Valerie was objectively attractive, even if I didn’t care for her personality.
    Wisely, Neil did not overtly agree with my sentiment. He went on, “He was knowledgeable about some things, to his credit. He knew the tools, the differences between types of rope, the wrong places to hit, those basics. We started sleeping together, and I liked him very much. Perhaps too much. I think I fell for him a bit, and I believe he fell for me, too. So, when he suggested that, as part of my training, I should sub for him, I trusted him.
    “I didn’t like having my arms tied back then, either, but he convinced me that it was important to know what it felt like. He had this antique wrought iron bed—the first time I slept with him, I thought, ‘that would be good for tying someone up.’” Neil chuckled quietly at the memory, and my heart twisted, because it wasn’t a sound of mirth. “He knelt me in front of the headboard and tied my wrists, and he flogged me. It wasn’t the pain of the flogging so much as my fear of being tied up, but I couldn’t remember my safe word. To this day, I can’t remember what we’d set—this was before I learned about the red, yellow, green method. He…um…”
    I patted the couch beside me. “You can sit here, if you want.”
    He nodded and gave me a small, grateful bend of his lips. When he sat beside me, I took his hands in mine, stroking my thumbs across the backs. He looked down at them, and in a very soft voice, he said, “He… Christ, I’m so embarrassed.”
    I didn’t push him.
    Eventually, he said, “He fucked me. And he wasn’t careful. It wasn’t something we’d agreed upon beforehand. Perhaps because we’d done it before, he thought… I was…” His breath shuddered from him. “I begged him. And he didn’t stop. I was so desperate to get away, Sophie. I can’t begin to describe to you how terrifying it was. Sometimes, I think he knew that I was in distress and he was just a sadistic bastard. Other times, I wonder if he was just so inexperienced, he didn’t know better.”
    I knew which one I believed, but it wasn’t up to me to convince Neil either way.
    He sat up and pulled his hands back, rubbing them on his thighs as though he would wipe away the bad memory. “The rest you know. I fought the ropes and separated my shoulder. I was in agony. It was only after he finished that he realized I’d hurt myself.”
    You weren’t the one who hurt you, Neil , I thought, and my mouth moved to say so, but I stopped myself in the nick of time. It wasn’t my place to tell him what he probably already knew. He