Téa

I’m a well-traveled Midwestern girl, but the big island of Hawaii has to be one of the most beautiful places on the planet. We’ve been here four days, and I’ve considered making it my home on more than one occasion.

Nick’s aunt Serena says she moved to Hawaii so she could retire in paradise, and I couldn’t agree more.

It’s hard pretending that this is a normal vacation, but that’s how she wants it. Nick and his family are doing a great job making memories for Serena to hold onto in her last days, and I’ve captured them all in photographs for her.

We have been to the beach every day, sometimes twice, and we spent a day at Hawaii Volcanoes National Park, where I got the most amazing shots of volcano eruptions and flowing lava. Nick says I should send them to National Geographic, and they are so amazing I just might.

Nick’s mom and dad are lovely people who, after a few hours of uncomfortable glances at my tattoos and questions about my upbringing, seem to have embraced me as Nick’s girlfriend. His sister Nora loved me right away. I think she’s secretly a creative soul. I can’t imagine this wild girl at an Ivy League college in a stuffy classroom. Nick and I have taken bets on how long it will take her to dye her hair an unnatural color or get a tattoo while we are on vacation.

I said six days, Nick says ten. I’m hoping I’m wrong, though. Edie and Angus will probably think I had something to do with it, and I’m trying to build trust with his parents.

Today we are going to a waterfall, and I am beyond excited. I can’t wait to catch a rainbow in between the sun and the water pouring off the cliffs. The wildlife on the island is breathtaking too. Getting a close up of a parrot is at the top of my list of must-have photographs. Ben is in the kitchen complaining about getting up early. He came along last minute at Edie's encouragement when he dropped us off at the airport.

“You are family, get your butt on this plane or I’ll tell every girl you date from now on that you have a little penis,” she said. He was boarding in seconds with nothing but the clothes on his back.

Nick got up early to run on the beach and work out in the gym. He’s worried about being gone so close to the regular season starting. He told me his coach would never have let him go if it weren't for the special circumstances.

Scarlet is with her grandma getting groceries at the local market, and I’m dragging my butt out of bed at the late hour of eight a.m.

It’s harder than I anticipated to keep up after the attack, but my bruises are fading and the tiny broken blood vessels on my cheeks are gone.

It feels like a lifetime ago that we went to that party. It’s the island. I’m sure of it. Everything is better in paradise.

I’m in the shower when I hear my phone chime, notifying me of a text. I step out and grab a towel, wrapping it around me while I bend over and squint at the phone’s screen on the vanity.

It’s not a text, it’s a message from Match Pro. Hmm, maybe it’s some kind of notification. They probably think I’ve given up on love after seeing that my account has been dormant for days.

I tap the app’s icon with a damp finger and finish drying off while it pulls up. When I’m no longer dripping wet, I pick up my phone to read the message. It’s from Emmett. What?

Nick must be bored at the gym. We never talked about deleting our accounts or using them for play. We’ve been so busy since we found out about each other that there hasn’t been time.

Emmett -- I have a problem.

A problem, I’ll bet. I like solving his problems, though, this might be fun.

Me -- Oh yeah? Maybe I can help.

Emmett -- I’m counting on it. Do you have any fetishes?

Now that’s a new one. We’ve never talked about fetishes, probably because I don’t have any and I never thought to ask Nick if he did either.

Me -- Not that I’m aware of, do you?

Emmett -- Yes.

I close the lid of the toilet and sit down. I have a strange feeling about this. Why didn’t he just come out and tell me about this fetish of his, he brought it up after all.

Me -- Are you going to share or am I supposed to guess?

Emmett -- Don’t get sassy with me.

Oh-kay, what the hell? Nick’s not rude or bossy, ever. Somebody must be messing with me. They’ve hacked his account. I close out of the app and walk into the bedroom to get dressed.

The second I put the phone down, it chimes again. I continue to ignore it and finish dressing, but the damn thing doesn’t stop.

Enough, I’m deleting my account. I open the app again, and three messages show up on the screen right away.

Emmett -- I’m sorry.

Emmett -- I was playing Dom.

Emmett -- Téa, come on, please? Play with me.

Dom? It takes a second for that to register.

Me -- As in Dom/sub? BDSM?

Emmett -- Yes! Thank you for coming back.

Me -- You’re welcome. How do we play?

Emmett -- Tell me your darkest fantasy.

Me -- Dark? I don’t think I have dark fantasies.

Emmett -- Oh, come on, everybody has something they never talk about out loud. What’s that thing? What’s the one thing you’ve never done because you’re scared of what your partner will think of you if you ask? Wanna know mine?

This conversation is a little creepy for eight thirty in the morning. Hell, it's little creepy, period. I honestly don’t have a dark fantasy. The only thing I can think of that he might consider dark is bondage, but everybody does that nowadays.

Me -- Is it considered a fantasy if I’ve already done it?

Emmett -- Yes.

Me -- I like rope play, in moderation.

Emmett -- You like being tied up, that’s perfect. I want to tie you up with your legs spread wide so I can flog your pretty pussy until you come so hard you beg me to do it again.

I plop on the bed and stare at my phone. I slowly lift my eyes and see my reflection in the mirror, mouth agape, eyes wide, cheeks pink.

I’m no prude, I’ve even been to a few clubs that specialize in this sort of thing back in Chicago with Theresa, but I never participated. My experience with rope play is limited to having my hands tied up by a long-time boyfriend that I trusted, and he never completely restrained me.

This is kinky shit. I don’t want to play this game. What if this is his way of telling me what he wants in real life? Am I willing to do whatever it takes to please him?

I’m falling for Nick, hard. But if this is his scene, I may have to rethink having a long-term relationship with him.

My heart sinks at the thought of losing him, but the reality is I’ve known the man for less than two weeks. He could be a serial killer for all I know. I read somewhere that it takes people a good six months to a year to show who they truly are in a relationship.

Emmett -- Did I scare you, Red?

His message makes me jump. Do I tell him hell yes you scared me, or do I play along and see what happens? If I play, he will think I’m open for this kind of thing in real life. If I don’t, he will know I’m not, and that could be the end of us.

That’s good, though. I don’t want to be a sub. I’m not a sub, and I don’t want a Dom. I want my sweet, loving, athletic, awesome daddy to his little girl.

I want Nick the way he was until ten minutes ago. I want Emmett to go away and never come back.

Me -- I don’t want to play.

There. I have to be honest. This isn’t my style, and I don’t want to make it my style.

Emmett -- I want you to play. This is important to me. I was worried you might react this way. It’s not a bad thing. Doms take care of their subs. They have a special relationship. It’s about giving up control and trusting someone not to hurt you.

Oh my God, he’s serious about this. He’s making it sound like it’s his lifestyle, not a dark fantasy.

Me -- Is this a deal breaker for you? Are you a real Dominant or is this something you like to play at in private? I don’t see you as a Dom at all.

Emmett -- Yes, it’s a deal breaker, and yes I am a ‘real’ Dom. I want you to be my subordinate. I want you in my life forever. I love you. You’re the one.

I blow out a long breath. It feels like my lungs implode and my heart lurches in my chest and crumbles into smoldering embers.

We haven’t said I love you yet, and he chooses now, like this?

This isn’t real. This isn’t Nick. I have to think of something only he would know about me to ask so I can trap this impostor. Whoever it is can probably look back and see our conversations, so they know a lot. But they wouldn’t know anything that’s happened over the past few days in Hawaii.

Me -- If you’re really Nick, where did we go yesterday?

He answers immediately.

Emmett -- Hawaii Volcanoes National Park

Fuck, lucky guess. Everybody who comes to the big island goes there. Think, Téa, think. What’s something personal, something nobody else knows? My bunny tattoo maybe? Only a handful of men have seen it, and a few women in locker rooms. No, it needs to be more recent, more private.

Me -- Who tripped and almost fell yesterday when we were walking on the beach?

Emmett -- My mother, or Edie Marie Wood, if you need a full identification. Is it so hard to believe I live this kind of lifestyle?

Shit.

Me -- Yes, it is for me. I thought I knew you a little bit, but apparently, I didn’t. One more question. What did I whisper in your ear this morning?

Emmett -- Nothing, I left before you were awake. It’s me, Téa, why don’t you trust me?

That’s it. He’s right. He’s been right every time. The man I was so sure was the one wants something I will not give him. He needs me to live a lifestyle that goes against everything I believe in. I know myself well enough to know I wouldn’t last under someone’s thumb. I’m a free-spirited, independent woman who has a real problem being told what to do.

I would have done almost anything to be with Nick, but not this.

Me -- I’m ending this thread, and I’m deleting this account. I’ll see you when you get back. We need to talk about this in person, not via text.

Emmett -- Don’t bother, we’ve said all there is to say. If you’re not interested in this kind of lifestyle, you may as well pack up and leave.

I read the message three times before tears well up and spring from my eyes. I’m grateful for the blurry vision. If not for the tears, I would have read it a hundred times.

He wants me to leave. My mind is like a street in New York after a ticker tape parade. Tiny bits of it are flitting in the air in every direction and scattered all over the ground.

This can’t be happening. Everything was perfect this morning when I opened my eyes, and within fifteen minutes it’s been blown to smithereens.

That’s the problem right there. Perfection doesn’t exist, and Nick was damn close to perfect. Loyal, handsome to a fault, loving, compassionate, sexy, playful, hard working, funny … it’s all too much.

I thought I’d found Prince Charming, but I got Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde instead. Damn me for being hopeful and naive.

I wipe away the tears and find Emmett has deleted his account.

He deleted us.

He deleted me.

I slide onto the floor and crouch down to pull my bag out from under the bed. I’m stuffing my belongings into it when there is a knock at the door.

“Hey, Téa? You almost ready to go? Nick just texted me and told me to tell you he’s on his way, and Edie and Scarlet should be back any minute.”

I clear my throat and swallow past a giant lump before I answer him.

“Yep, almost ready. I’ll be out in a sec,” I say in an overly cheerful voice.

“Uh, okay. I’m gonna pack up the truck. I’ll be outside if you need me.”

“Thanks, Ben.”

I hear his boots clomp across the wood floor to the front door. I feel bad leaving like this, but from the sound of it, Nick just gave me a heads up via his best friend to clear out before he returns.

It’s wrong not to say goodbye to Serena, but she hardly knows me. In the scheme of things, my presence here is a blip on her life’s radar. I’ll email Nick the photos I’ve taken so far from the plane, and he can give them to her himself.

I feel like Ben, Edie, Nora, and Angus are my family, but losing Scarlet is going to leave a gaping hole in my mangled heart. I’ve fallen in love with that little girl over the past ten days. No, I fell in love with her that very first day when she kicked the back of my seat on the plane.

I’ve even gone so far as to imagine myself as her stepmother someday and Nick’s wife. So stupid.

I zip my bag and check my face in the mirror. My hair is still wet. I dig through my purse quickly, drag a brush through it, and call it good.

I Google Uber and find out that, thank God, they have them in Hawaii too. I tell the driver to pick me up at a diner down the beach from the rental house. When I peek out into the hall, it's all clear. I slip on an old pair of Vans and make it through the house and down the stairs of the back patio silently.

The perfect seventy-degree Hawaiian breeze acts as a hair dryer as I trudge along in the sand to the edge of the water. My heart feels like a cement brick in my chest as I look back to make sure no one saw me leave.

How did I get here? I’m thousands of miles away from home, heartbroken on a beach in Hawaii, with no job and no plans for the future.

Life’s funny like that sometimes I guess. One day you’re cruising down the road in the right lane going under the speed limit obeying the rules toward a mediocre goal that will bring you a mediocre life when BAM! Love rear-ends you, shoving you off the road. You swerve and try to get control, only to plummet over the edge of a cliff, falling, tumbling, crunching against the rocks until a big branch reaches out to stop you, to save you, to rescue you.

Just when you think it’s safe to get out and make your way down to the ground, another car comes out of nowhere, smashing into yours, releasing it from the branch until you explode on the jagged rocks below.

Fuck love, fuck life, fuck trips in cars on winding mountain roads.

Nick rear-ended me off the cliff. I fell head over heels in love. He saved me from being killed and made me feel safe right before he dropped a bomb on me that destroyed my heart.

I’m walking and crying and having the greatest pity party of all time when I hear a voice call my name.

“Hey, Téa, where do you think you’re going?” Serena yells from one of several lawn chairs around a pile of ashes that was once a bonfire.

What is she doing out here? Why am I having such a shitty-ass day? Couldn’t I just slink off, literally, into the horizon and leave paradise with my dignity intact?

No, of course not.

Serena makes her way to the water’s edge where I am standing, looking like a wet rat with puffy red eyes and a fifty-pound bag weighing me down.

“I uh, I have a family emergency. I’m so sorry I have to leave like this. I wanted to say goodbye, but I didn’t know where you were.”

“You’re sorry you have to sneak out the back door and down the beach with wet hair?” She grabs a lock of hair that’s floating in the breeze and tosses it away like she’s disgusted.

“I’m calling total bullshit on your family emergency, so don’t even bother explaining. What happened between you and Nico?”

I must look surprised, because she shakes her head and chuckles. “Sweet girl, I know a Dear John moment when I see one. Come sit down and tell me about it.”

I point up the beach toward the diner, “But, I have a ride …”

She grabs my hand, “Yeah, yeah, you got a ride to the airport waiting at the diner. Come on, you’re gonna have to call another one because I’m not letting you out of my sight until I know what’s going on.”

For a frail, dying woman, she sure has a grip on my hand. Fifteen steps inland, she pushes my bag off my shoulder and points at a lounger next to the one she was sitting in.

I sit because, well, because I don’t feel I have a choice. Serena leans over and picks up a smoldering joint that was burning on a stump next to her chair.

“Helps with nausea. I can’t wait to be done with that damn chemo. I only kept taking it so I’d last long enough to say goodbye to my family. I’d have been long gone six months ago otherwise.”

“I uh, I don’t know what to …”

“You don’t know what to say, yeah I know. My life is irrelevant now. Tell me what my nephew’s done so at least I can fix his.”

I feel so stupid sitting here on the beach, whining and crying about a man, when she’s struggling through chemotherapy for a few happy days with her family before she dies.

“I don’t want to trouble you. You’ve got enough on your plate.”

And I don’t particularly want to tell her that her nephew is a sadomasochist who wants me to be his subordinate.

She inhales a long drag off the joint and blows it in my direction.

“Talk.”

“No, there’s nothing you can do.”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that.”

“I can’t, it’s … disturbing and personal.”

“Disturbing? That’s a new one. Never had a runner say he was disturbing. Self-centered distant maybe, but disturbing? You’re the first.”

“The first? Runner? You make it sound like he was a player. He told me he was always with Mariah.”

“Mmm, Mariah, now that was a good girl. I can’t wait to see her again soon. I bet she’s the first one who reaches out in the tunnel of light to welcome me to heaven.”

She closes her right eye when the wind changes direction and blows her smoke into it. A tear trickles down her cheek, “Damn smoke. I never smoked a day in my life, you know. It took me a month to learn how to inhale without coughing a lung up. Anyway, back to Nico. Yes, he was with Mariah for a long time, but in high school, girls fell in love with him everywhere he went. He said it was a curse. He just wanted to play football, fuck, and get straight As, in that order. He tried to tell them he didn’t want anything permanent, but they were blinded by his pretty face and good manners.”

I snort when I imagine Nick telling a lovesick puppy thanks but no thanks. I wonder if he was a Dom back then? Maybe that’s why he didn’t want to date. Maybe he had a sub that gave him what he wanted, when he wanted it, the way he wanted it?

“But Mariah was different?”

“Oh yes. Mariah wasn’t like the others. She was strong and independent. She was a take it or leave it kind of girl with her own dreams and goals. She made him chase her, and chase her he did. If having blue balls was a real thing, his would have been purple and big as baseballs on his wedding night.”

“She was a virgin?”

“I don’t know about that, but she wouldn’t give it up to him until he said I do in front of a Catholic priest and the good Lord God Almighty.”

“Sounds like a smart woman.”

“Yep. A lot like you she was. ‘Cept for all the decorations.” She lifts her chin toward the dragon tattoo wrapped around my arm and draws deeply on the joint.

“So, you gonna tell me what happened, or am I gonna have to call him up and have him come down here and tell me himself?” She slips her phone from the breast pocket of her flannel shirt that looks so out of place in Hawaii and waves it back and forth threateningly.

“No, please. Don’t call him. I’ll tell you. But you have to promise to let me go after I do.”

She raises her eyebrows and adjusts the purple bandana covering her bald head.

“Yeah all right, that’s fair. But if I can fix it, I’m gonna. With or without you here. That boy needs you. He lights up when you come in the room. I haven’t seen him happy like this since he met Mariah. You’re God’s apology, baby. He sent you to balance out the pain with joy.”

Heartbreak wells up inside of me until it overflows and my body is wracked with sobs. Serena stands and wraps her thin arms around my shoulders. She shushes me, stroking my tangled hair until I’m spent, and then she kneels down in front of me and asks again. “Now you gonna tell me?”

I nod my head, and she offers me the corner of her shirt for my tears. Any other time I wouldn’t, but something about Serena says she’s done this a time or two, and she doesn’t mind.

“He wants something I can’t give him.”

“A baby?”

“Oh, God no, I wish it were that simple. I’d have a dozen kids if he wanted me to.”

“Well, Nico loves kids, so that’s good. What else is there? He’s got money, he’s handsome as hell, he has a steady job and a beautiful baby girl.”

“Serena, have you ever heard of BDSM?”

“Yeah, the stuff from that smut book Fifty Shades of Gray, right?”

“Sort of, I think anyway. Nick … he, he lives that lifestyle.”

A deep groove puckers between her eyes, and her face contorts into an expression I don’t recognize. I’m not sure if she’s going to sneeze or cry until laughter explodes from her mouth. Serena laughs like a cackling hyena.

She holds her hand over her heart, gasping for breath until the corners of my mouth lift in a hesitant smile. It’s not funny, but her laughter is contagious and I can’t help myself.

After a long hard laugh, she wears herself out and looks me straight in the eye.

“Where in the world did you get that crazy idea in your head? My baby is no Dom. That boy couldn’t hurt a woman if she begged him to.”

“He sent me a text and told me to leave if I couldn’t commit to his lifestyle.”

“Oh, stop,” she says, waving her hand back and forth in the air. “Come on. We’re going back to the house. I know I said you could leave if you told me, but I’m not believing this nonsense until I hear it straight from his mouth, and neither should you. I changed that boy's diapers and took him to Sunday school every weekend. I watched him nurse a baby bird back to health after it fell out of its nest during a storm. He’s not like that. He’s just not.”

She stands and motions for me to do the same. Twenty minutes ago, I would have refused. But Serena is so sure that the idea of Nick being a Dom is absurd it ignites an ember of hope deep inside of me.

I explain the whole scenario as we walk, and Serena clucks her tongue and shakes her head back and forth.

When we round a boulder that juts out, blocking the view down the beach, I look up and see Nick standing on the porch. He’s dressed in black board shorts and a white t-shirt that hugs every chiseled muscle on his torso. His feet are bare, and the ocean breeze tussles his hair.

As soon as he catches sight of us, he bounds down the steps two at a time. It takes him seconds to race down the beach and scoop me into his arms.

“Damn it Téa, you scared the shit out of me.”

He’s squeezing me so tight I can’t speak to explain myself and when he loosens his grip, he covers my face in a million tiny kisses.

“Why were you leaving? Serena texted me and said she found you walking down the beach to the diner.”

I turn to Serena to ask how she managed to text him without me noticing, and she’s looking at a seagull overhead like she’s never seen one before.

“Nick, you’re not one of those Dom kind of guys, are you?” she asks, still watching the noisy bird.

Nick screws up his face in confusion. “Where the hell did that come from? No offense, Aunt Serena, but how much pot have you smoked today?

“Téa here tells me you told her to pack her stuff and hit the road if she wasn’t interested in being your slave.” She slowly drags her eyes from the bird to his face as she speaks.

“What the fuck? I leave to go work out this morning and come back to you two accusing me of being a sadomasochist?”

“Did you get on Match Pro today as Emmett?” I ask.

“What? No, why the hell would I do that? I ran ten miles and lifted weights. I told you I was going to the gym.”

I close my eyes and drop my chin to my chest. How could I be so stupid? I knew it felt wrong all along. I suspected it was a hacker, but somehow I convinced myself he was Nick.

“Somebody hacked your account. He had me convinced it was you. He knew things, things I thought only you could know. They knew your mom tripped on the path yesterday and that we went to the volcano park. Oh, and he knew her whole name and that you left early this morning while I was asleep to go work out.” My voice is frantic, like I’m grasping at straws trying to explain myself.

“Hey, shush honey, it’s okay. That wasn’t me. He must have been one hell of a salesperson to make you believe that, though. Do you still have the conversation on your phone?”

“I think so, he deleted your account, but I didn’t. How did he know those things? Is someone following us?”

“It could have been anyone. I have insane fans. You have no idea the lengths they will go to get my attention. Come on. I want to get you inside.