009: Binge & Purge

Kayla stood in front of the lavish mirror in Rick's master bedroom applying red lipstick to her pursed lips. It had been a rough couple of days since Rick had returned from his Fiji vacation with his then fiancée, LJ Starke. He'd been drinking almost nonstop since and had been alternating between seeming almost manic and utterly depressed. She'd been at his side since the morning before and had tried everything to sober him up. He'd responded like a petulant child, refusing to do so. An idea came to her when a box arrived for her, something she'd ordered days before and almost forgotten in all the uproar.

The crimson long-lined corset covered in black lace fit her perfectly, the back covering up her scars except for the ones on her shoulders and upper back. She'd gotten matching underwear and sheer black stockings that enhanced the look. Black stiletto heels were on her feet and over the corset, she adorned Rick's black and red silk robe. Kayla closed the robe and tied it shut as she ran a hand through her wavy blonde hair. It had been a long time since she'd felt this sexy or focused on the scars that embarrassed her. She hadn't told Rick where she'd gotten them; the few times they'd been intimate, he hadn't asked. She wasn't even sure if he'd actually noticed them. She'd tell him, eventually, but retelling that traumatic experience took a lot of mental energy and she just didn't have it in her.

Kayla opened up the bathroom door and walked through the bedroom with her hands resting inside of the robe's pockets. Her heels made a click-clacking sound on the penthouse's floors as she looked for Rick. He'd been in the living room, quietly reading when she'd gone in the bedroom. The book was sitting in the middle of the couch now, abandoned. There were sounds coming from the kitchen and as she got to the doorway, he was doing the last thing she expected – he was cleaning out the fridge. "This is a surprise." She leaned against the doorway and watched him.

He barely glanced up, pulling a half-full jar of Dijon mustard from the door and checking the date on it. "Most of these are expired. I didn't even realize salad dressing went bad. I thought it was just chemicals – there was one that was best before 2016!" He seemed far more upbeat than he'd been when she'd gone into the shower, as if he'd managed to shake off the moodiness that had been hanging over him like a cloud. Chuckling, he turned back and started arranging the remaining bottles and jars by size.

The sudden change in his mood was a bit surprising, but she opted to go with it. "I thought I cleaned out everything that had gone bad; I apologize for that." She walked over to the kitchen island and leaned against it. "You probably should punish me for it." The line sounded corny as hell, but she'd never been that great at being coy. She continued to watch him as he focused on ridding the penthouse of spoiled condiments.

"I should punish myself," Rick replied, "for even wasting money on this junk in the first place. If it's been there for four years, obviously it wasn't essential." He finished his impromptu sort and turned to actually look at her, blinking for a moment. Now that he wasn't halfway in the giant fridge, she could see how red-rimmed and bloodshot his eyes were. Other than that, though? He looked really good. "Well now. Is that my robe you've got on?"

Something niggled in the back of her mind but she dismissed it, just happy that he almost seemed in a better mood. Kayla knew he hadn't been sleeping and more than anything she wanted him to get some rest and take care of himself. Putting a playful smile on her face, she nodded. "Uh huh, but it's what's under the robe that I think you'll like." She walked over to him with her hands on that robe's sash. "Why don't we go into the bedroom and you can see what I've got for you." If nothing else, maybe she could wear him out so that he passed out.

"Why do you want to go in there?" Rick looked around the kitchen, at the open space and the huge island in the middle. "The lighting in here is great. I never realized that before. Is it just me or does it seem almost blue-tinted? I'll have to ask if these are different bulbs than the ones in the other rooms." He smiled, holding out his hand to her even though his gaze only settled on her for a moment. "I suppose I can see why you'd want to go in there, though. With the lights off, of course. Don't know how I'm supposed to enjoy anything when I can't even see what I'm doing."

Kayla stared at him, the smile fading away. The few times they'd had sex, she'd wanted the lights off because of her scars. His words cut, making her feel awkward and ugly. "I didn't think the lights mattered." Her shoulders went up in a shrug as she got the distinct feeling she was walking onto a minefield. "Why does it matter?"

"Of course it matters," he scoffed, shaking his head. "We're not old. We're not hideous monsters. As much as you want to believe you're in some Disney fairy-tale, you're not Belle and I'm not the Beast." He glanced at the silver front of the fridge, seeing their distorted reflections on the surface. Chuckling, he shook his head again and gestured at it, "don't take that as your truth, Kayla."

"That's not my truth, this is far from Disney." Her hands slid into the pockets of the robe. "Look, I just wanted to have a night with you, that's all. Fall asleep in your arms." She almost felt like he was trying to pick a fight with her now.

"Then why the song and dance?" Rick frowned, "if you're in the mood for a little shag, just say so. You don't have to act like you're presenting yourself as some well-thought out gift." His tone was sarcastic as he reached out for the tie on the robe, giving it a tug.

She made no attempt to stop him as the robe opened slightly, revealing the black and red of the corset. "Just thought it would be fun, Rick." Her eyes stayed locked on his, confusion and a bit of dismay there in the baby blue depths.

"Told you I'm not keen on surprises." His tone was flat as he shook his head, thinking about the so-called romantic trip that had ended in rejection. "You promised I'd love it, but I'm not having too much fun."

Something was off about him; he was all over the place. She didn't know if it was something she'd done wrong or if he was just hungover. Her voice came out smaller, hesitant. "I thought you might enjoy it, especially after the past few days."

His smile was automatic, that wry smirk that curved his lips and made the corners of his eyes crinkle. "Enjoy it, hmm?" He stepped in closer, "of course, darling. You've got me pegged. You know what I like, don't you?"

Kayla narrowed her eyes at him, her brow furrowing as her arms folded against her chest. "Have I done something wrong?"

"Now that's a loaded question, isn't it?" Rick's tone was meant to be teasing but it still felt wrong somehow. "Have you? Do you feel like you've been wicked and need to be punished?"

"Is that what you want?" Her arms stayed folded against her chest, unsure of how to navigate this. The way he was looking at her made her feel flushed, as if she was suddenly on trial and everything was being used against her.

"What I want?" Rick's brow quirked as his hand rested gently on her shoulder.

"To punish me?"

"Are you asking me truthfully or is this part of the game?" The bantering tone dropped, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered the question. The way she had her arms folded made him think she was trying to play hard to get, as if he needed to chase her some more? He'd already done too much of that. "Is that what you want? I can get a belt. Turn you over my knee like the bad girl you are. Give you a few licks, see if that straightens you out."

She visibly stiffened, the color draining out of her face, making the makeup on her face look like bright splotches. "I don't want that." There was a tremor in her voice as her eyes averted. She felt a flare of pain through the scar on her side.

A frown creased his brow as he stared at her, completely confused by her reaction even though she'd obviously initiated this little roleplaying moment. Shaking his head in irritation, he moved past her, heading towards the living room. He kicked the trash bin, sent it skidding into the corner. "Well when you figure out what you want, let me know."

As hard as she tried to fight the flashback from ten years ago, she couldn't. She heard the muffled thump of the bin hitting the wall and it was too much like something out of that basement. Her stomach started to churn; she could feel the bile rising in the back of her throat. Throwing her hand over her mouth, she made a beeline for the closest bathroom. When she reached the toilet, she fell to her knees and let the content spill into the bowl. She wanted to close her eyes, but when she did, all she could see were the monsters who terrorized her for six weeks in Arkansas.

Rick turned back when he heard her make a strange sound only to see her fleeing towards the half bath next to the pantry. Concern won out over his irritation and he followed her when he heard the first sounds of her getting sick, stopping to fill a glass from the filtered water at the sink. "Kayla?" He said her name softly, hesitating in the doorway, almost contrite. She didn't deserve to be treated like some plaything, he realized. Certainly not now. "Honey?"

When she'd finished throwing up, her hand came up and pulled on the handle of the toilet. "Yeah?" She felt clammy and her makeup was smeared, making her look like a mess.

He knelt beside her, holding out the glass. "I brought you some water. If it'll help?" He realized after all these years as an adult, he really didn't know how to look after someone else. He could barely manage to handle himself most days.

"Thank you." Her trembling hand came up and took the glass from him. "Sorry." She took a few sips from the glass, the water helping soothe her burning throat. The little voice in the back of her head was begging her to tell him why his belt suggestion had affected her, but that odd look in his eyes stopped her cold. "I think… I should take a shower and go to bed."

He nodded, feeling almost disappointed that the surprise she'd been hinting at had been ruined. "Might be a good idea." Straightening up, he turned back towards the kitchen rather than offer to help her up, his mind racing again. "Must've been those milkshakes. I'll check that milk. Maybe it's expired, too. Everything in that fridge is probably contaminated. Do we have any bleach?"

It was easier to just let him assume the milk she'd bought the day before had gone bad, than to tell him why her switch had flipped. Using the wall and toilet for leverage, she got to her feet, her legs feeling like liquid. With her hand on the wall, she walked past him, still muttering to himself about cleaning supplies. She was trying to be careful not to trip in the stilettos but it was proving difficult.

He caught her as her balance wavered, his reflexes quick enough to let her know he wasn't drunk. At least not drunk enough to have balance issues, anyhow. "Let me help," he murmured, "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. Here…" he let her lean on him, leading her to the bedroom with an arm around her waist to steady her. "I don't have much experience with this," he confessed, the words just spilling out as they moved towards the bed. He caught sight of them in the mirror above the dresser, his wild eyes and her looking broken and pale – what a couple they made. She could have passed for a hooker and he could have been some desperate John.

With effort, he pushed that away and looked down at her. "Do you want to sit down for a minute? I'll run you a bath if you'd rather. Tell me what I can do, Kayla."

"Yeah, I think I should." When she sat down on the bed, she took in a deep breath and then let it out so she could start to calm. She slid off the heels and let the robe fall, forgetting about what she'd been trying to hide. Her head was starting to pound. Leaning over, her hands rested on either side of her face and with her hair falling to the side, her back was in plain view where the corset didn't hide.

Rick was about to walk away when he saw the marks. He felt that keen sense of vertigo, as though the bottom was dropping out of the floor beneath his feet. He took a step back, averting his eyes as he went to the dresser and pulled out one of his shirts. He wasn't sure what had happened to her but there was no mistaking that someone or something had tried to tear her to pieces a long time ago. He felt an irrational flare of anger, one that would have been directed at whomever had done that damage. Instead, he was forced to swallow it back, turning back to her with a tight smile. "Something more comfortable since you don't feel well. You like wearing this one, don't you?" He held the garment out to her.

She'd sat back up and nodded when she saw the shirt. "It's my favorite of all your shirts." When she looked up at him, she could tell he'd at least seen some of what she'd tried so hard to hide. Biting down on her lower lip for a moment, she sighed. "It won't be today, but… I'll tell you what happened. I can't do it today, but soon."

"You don't owe me anything," he replied, turning away almost too quickly. He walked into the bathroom and a moment later she could hear the water running. He was gone for a while, running the cold tap on the sink long enough to soak his hands before splashing his burning face, trying to rub the imaginary sand from his eyes. When he walked back into the bedroom, the tub was almost half full and he realized he wasn't even sure if that's what she wanted. "You said a bath, right?" He leaned on the doorway, watching her.

"A bath would be good." She pushed herself off of the bed and met him at the doorway. She stopped and looked up at him. "And it's not about owing you anything. I need to tell you what happened."

Rick nodded, but didn't move out of the way. Instead he opened his arms to her, enfolding her in his embrace. He suddenly felt very close to losing it, his emotions all over the place and he came very close to blurting out something he knew he'd regret later when he wasn't high as a kite. "Kayla, I…" he bit his lip, silencing himself for a split second before he started to babble, wanting to assure her. "I'll help. If you need me to. I'll be here. Whatever you want. Whenever. Anything you want. Or need. Okay?"

She let him hold her and the panic attack she'd thought was going to happen, subsided. "Thank you." Her face buried against his chest. They hadn't known each other long, but it felt as though she'd known Rick her entire life. She could always find solace in his arms – he had that power over her, even when he was being absolutely unbearable. That was the worst part of his charm.