Broken Toys | Chapter Six

He’d been in his music room for well over an hour. The same tune played over and over, the voices clambering over the clashing cymbals and creating a headache-inducing space. The mood he entertained clearly defined by the noise. Vivat in Aerturnum by Roze. Napoleon Bonaparte’s coronation music. Over. And Over. And Over. I stood outside the polished oak door, debating whether or not to disturb him with the request of turning the music down. Couldn’t lay down to escape it, being so loud it seemed to be transmitted over the intercom system. I thought that the sex last night when we got back from his Aunt’s place would have helped mellow him out. Quite the opposite.

I had to face the beast in his lair, consequences be damned. As I raised my fist to knock upon the door, I heard the music quiet to a lower level and a woman’s soft voice addressing my husband.

"Theo, you must take her to task. You cannot let Nyssa act that way and think its fine. If you lose control of her, your marriage is doomed. You and I both know it. My dear, if a paddle doesn’t work, then maybe a crop? If not that, choose a nice whippy cane. It worked for you, did it not?"

I’m not sure what angered me more: that they were discussing beating me, or that my husband spoke to his ex-abuser. On speakerphone. I'm assuming he thought the music playing would cover the sound of their voices. But no, I could hear Margot's douche-bag tones through the walls. If anyone deserved a kick in the ass, it was that bitch. Theo, too, deserves a smaller kick to the ass for still talking to her, keeping her in his life. Couldn't he see the damage she did to him? She made it impossible for him to have a normal relationship, and what's worse is that he can't understand that nugget of truth. But now, my anger at Theo discussing me with her and she encouraging him to take me to task was equated to them dumping gasoline on a smoldering bonfire.

My husband's voice sounded strong, but I'm sure she heard the waver, as I did. "I've taken her to task. It doesn't work, Margot. Nothing works on her."

"You need to find the right torment, Theo. The right spur to the side will cure a multitude of behavioral issues. Have you tried bastinado?"

I had no idea what bastinado was, but the way she purred it, I knew it wasn't good.

"No. I didn't like it when you did it to me." She did it to him? She wants him to hurt me like she hurt him? Oh my fucking gods.
"But did you ever jerk off in the bushes again?"

"No, ma'am." The way he snapped that answer almost had me giggling with just how different it seemed from his usual, bossy self. I don’t think I could ever understand his relationship with her. My inner voice of self-preservation is telling me that I can’t be married to a man who goes to a fucking pedophile who abused him for marriage advice. Can’t do it, most especially if this is the shit they consider acceptable for coping with an opinionated spouse.

Fuck.

This.

Noise.

"Find something if you want your marriage to that dolt to survive. She doesn't know how good she has it. Remind her. Everything she has is because of you. Without her master, she has nothing."

A moment of silence filled the space before he spoke. "She said I am abusive."

Yes I did. And what strikes me odd about the conversation they were having was that beating me, the bastinado— what ever that is— and controlling me isn’t seen by them as abuse. What the hell?

A sharp bark of laughter from the pedophile came through loud and clear. "No, you're kinky. You're masterful. You are the king of your realm. You are many things but abusive? The dolt doesn't know the meaning of the word."

Well, I do know that a marriage shouldn’t be based on beating another down and controlling them.

"What if she goes to the police? Leaves me?" Funny. Divorce never crossed his mind. Or maybe it did and he didn’t have the strength to voice it.

"You have the power to change that, Theo. Take her somewhere. Give her a thrill she approves of, and then she'll have nothing to bitch about. Play her like a fiddle. You have that ability, just like you did on your honeymoon."

"Nyssa said she loved me. Not loves."

"Every woman has a dream. Maybe she's waking up from hers."

"That can't happen. She can't leave me."

Margot's voice turned sickly-sweet. "She won't. I'll help you and your marriage, even though I despise her."

"You're the best friend I have, Margot. Thank you."

"You are my favorite protégé, Theo. I'll do what I can, but don't let her know."

Ha ha, bitch! I already know! One step ahead of you guys…

I turned around to head back to the bedroom. Lurking in the shadows, a hulking form stood leaning against the wall. Kahan. He put a finger to his lips in a gesture of silence. Walking to my room, I head his footsteps retreating. With Theo occupied with the banshee, I headed to the bookshelf and retrieved the book safe. A book about the life of Elizabeth Tudor, Queen of England—something Theo would never read. Opened it, pulled out the cell. Shot off a text to Auntie Hans.

Told Theo he was abusive. Says he'll change. I'm going to get away. Anything happens to me, it's him and Margot Ivanov.

Check in with me every other day. If I don't hear from you for a week, I'm going to police. –Aunt Jilly

Thank you.

Stay safe. Go put this up, you don't want to get caught. -Aunt Jilly

I did as he said after I deleted the text conversation, both elated and apprehensive. Hans is absolutely correct, I don't want to get caught. Especially with those kinds of messages. Instead, I turned my attention back to Theo and Margot's scheming.

Anything he does will be a salve, but for how long. Can he really change? Or did Margot's abuse truly send him over the edge and he was totally incapable of having a considerate relationship? I don't want to give up on my marriage, but I can't stay married to a man I fear, and Theo does scare me. If I anger him, he hurts me.

The Inner Princess in me waited in my mind’s corner, unhappy with my train of thought. Give him up, give up the financial security, the glamorous life, the trips and special treatment? I'm okay with that, though. I was fine with it before I met him. And while I have changed, grown up even, I could go back to working for my rent and food. Being a pampered woman to a temperamental man is not a good gig. I just want to live without fear.

The thought of my new security detail filled my mind. I need to find someone soon, someone trustworthy. But if they are being paid by Theo, will that make them beholden to he who has the cash? Or would their loyalty be mine for certain? How would I know before it's too late? Anxiety surged through my being. If I mess this up, there will be no do-overs. He will never give me the chance. If I think it's bad now, how horror-show will it get if he finds out I want to leave him? A part of me wants to give him another chance, not walk away from my marriage like my mother has done so many times. I want to give him benefit of the doubt.

Hell, I didn’t get married just to get divorced.

The conflicting feelings dancing inside warred with my sense of self-preservation. I told Hans I'd leave Theo. With a huge breath of air filling my lungs, I exhaled slowly. I need to make a plan. Squirrel away some cash. Already have a lifeline with the cell Hans gifted me. Can’t go to Hans— Theo would watch him. And Janna. And Uncle Henry— can’t put any of them in harm’s way. As soon as all the pieces are in place, I’m out. Go into hiding long enough to set up residency so I can file for divorce. That's what I'll do. Perhaps he can have Dr. Glenberry explain to him why I chose to leave, and Margot can dry his tears while plying his arse with a riding crop as he used a horsetail buttplug. I half-laughed at the mental image of my 'masterful' husband neighing like a naughty pony.

And with that, I fell asleep with a grin plastered to my face.

Freedom.

• • • • *
        
        Heat engulfed me. So hot. Woke up to Theo wrapped around me like a vine. He needs a body pillow. It'd make this so much more comfortable for me. His foot began sliding down my leg, back and forth. I sighed deep knowing what he wanted.
        
        "Nyssa, are you awake?"
        
        "Huh? Am now." I lay on my side and tried disengaging from him.
        
        "I want to do something special with you. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?"
        
        "I…I don't know. Can I think about it?" I'd have to let Hans know I'd be on a trip, that way he doesn't think the worst happened. I'd fill him in on all the details, and that way he'd have the knowledge. But knowing that Margot suggested it made me not want to entertain the thought. My honeymoon memories are tainted by that woman’s influence. When does it stop?
        
        "Sure. But think about it soon. No session the Chamber for it, either." As I moved away from him, Theo reached out and drew me back into his arms.
        
        Frustrated and overheated, I kicked off the covers smothering me. "Alright. I'll let you know by dinnertime where we are going."
        
        His arm tightened, while his breath blew on my neck. "Good. There's a new world I want to explore with you. I don't ever want to let you go."
        
        My heart sunk, knowing how hard it’ll be to thwart his wants, but if anything, I had patience and enough anger to fuel my desires. It’ll be hard, but I can do it. Or die trying.

• • • • *
        
        I spent all day in a state of mild agitation. My husband wanted to take me somewhere, at his childhood abuser's behest. Other than upset that she is involved in my marriage, I felt angry that Theo knows how I feel about her, yet he still picks her brain whenever he's stumped.
        
        Where did I want to go on this vacation the pedophile suggested? As a gesture of independence, I began thinking of places he'd never think to take me—places well populated and still stateside. Maybe California? Never been there, and having married someone who could well afford a little jaunt, I put my mind to just where I'd want to see.
        
        There would be no getting around the trip. Not even going to try. But I won't let myself be isolated overseas in a place where I don't speak the language or would need an embassy. Somewhere domestic. Quaint.
        
        It came to me. Where my parents got married—a tiny coastal town in Northern California called Fort Bragg. I'd only seen pictures in the photo album Mom kept as a reminder of her first husband, the only bond I had with my father aside from genetics. I wanted to go there, go to the same beaches and see the same sights. It’s a tourist town. Maybe I could fade away and he never find me again.
        
        At noon, I approached Theo with my desired place to vacation. Apprehension filled my body because I didn't know how he'd react to something he'd consider staid, if not outright boring. When money isn't an object, could he be satisfied with a modest request? Or would he try to one-up it in his alpha-male way? Would he let me plan it?
        
        My mind lit up at the possibility of planning this vacation foisted upon me. If I could plan the details, perhaps I could engineer a way from Margot-influenced Theo. But I needed to get my own security detail. Can't trust Kahan to help me get away, can't put him in that position. He's got a kid to worry about.
        
        I sighed as I made my way toward Theo's home office. His parents wrote him off after he refused to bar Margot from his life. They were upset that he chose her over them. His cousins, too. Theo's choices have alienated him from his family. And his only friend is the woman who tortured him—and he can't see the harm in that.
        
        With a hand raised to knock on the office door, I swallowed the knot growing in my throat. Three quick raps on the polished wood yielded a bellowed, "Enter!" from my husband.
        
        Papers coated the desk, his computer screen was off. Theo looked frazzled.
        
        "Honey?" I asked, taking the sweetheart route to see where he was on his emotional barometer.
        
        "Yeah? Oh, hey. What do you need?" He asked me, while he thumbed through a file he held.
        
        "I decided where I want to go. Can I plan it? Surprise you with it?"
        
        A frown etched his face while suspicion poured from his lips. "Why do you want to plan it?"
        
        "Because it'd mean a lot to me. I don't get to do much without permission these days. I'd like your permission for me to plan my dream vacation. If that's okay with you."
        
        He heaved a deep sigh. "I wanted to take care of the details, but if it means so much to you, then yes, you have my permission. Just give me an outline of your idea. I'd like to know what I'm getting into."
        
        I gave a tiny smile of triumph. "I don't want to go anywhere exotic or anything. There's a place in my family's history I've never been, but it was important to my parents. And that's the only wedding my mom had that didn't end in divorce." I don't know why I included that tidbit of information, but it seemed to have a beneficial effect on Theo. Perhaps mentioning divorce put things in perspective of where I stood with him.
        
        "So, where is this place?"
        
        "In California. Can I leave it at that?"
        
        "I…I suppose. Once you get an itinerary set, let me know so I can schedule time away from work."
        
        "Yes, Theo." I could play submissive for a bit. Perhaps he could be reasoned with—his willingness to let me spearhead this vacation both elated and worried me. I'd have to be extra-careful, because any misstep on my part could yield terrible repercussions.
        
        I need to get my security detail, and use them to help me get away from my husband. Someone to hide behind, learn from, escape with. I gotta make that a priority.
        
        "Is that all?" Impatience sat heavy in his voice.
        
        I nodded and replied, "Thank you, Theo. I'll plan a very memorable trip for us."
        
        Retreating to the kitchen with my laptop, I began asking the Wizard of Google about rental houses in Fort Bragg. Somewhere with beach access. Opened up another browser window, this time Googling the security firm Kahan suggested I check out. I sent off an email via the Contact Us option on the website, outlining my needs and providing my cell phone number. Don't believe it'd take long for them to respond.
        
        Another sigh quaked in my lungs. A huge part of me wanted to tell Theo I knew what was up. But anytime I try to assert myself, things get ugly and painful. I'm not stupid enough to openly court his anger. It frustrates me to play the game, but when one can't really trust their spouse, can one really take the kinds of risks that end with hidden bodies? Never mind, no need for a rental house on the beach. Probably should stick with a hotel.
        
        Okay. First things first. Number one on the agenda, get security. Number two, plan the trip by picking my security detail's brain. If I can find someone utterly trustworthy, I can make my escape, hide in California for six months to set up residency in order to file for divorce. After that… I don't know. Would Theo let me go without a fight? Would I need a restraining order? Would he buy the judge so a restraining order wouldn't be granted? I didn't know, but I've got to try to escape. Somehow.
        Who wants to be married to a man who willingly embraces the pedophile who did more to damage his psyche than the monster who hurt him as a small child? I know I don't. He's made his choice, as far as I'm concerned. He's chosen her over me.
        No wife should bear that.