ADDICTED

5

JAMES

My gaze followed the steep lines of the two-story, wooden A-frame cabin I had owned for the last six years.

This house was my second residential purchase, following the luxury apartment I had bought after starting my business as an informant. Although it seemed so long ago, I could easily remember the fog of my brain at the time as I fell helplessly in love with Marissa.

She was the one who introduced me to BDSM. She was also the one who had suggested I buy a secluded place for us to explore her lurid kinks. I was eager to provide her with anything and everything to keep her by my side.

I bought this cabin without a second thought. We renovated and decorated it together until we created our own private love nest. Our memories stained every inch of the walls in this house. As my eyes wandered over the square windows with their dark shutters, the porch swing, and the azalea beds, I couldn't help but feel Marissa.

Or, more accurately, feel her absence.

I could almost still smell her perfume, still hear her feet crossing the old creaky floors. This had been our sanctuary for years. Until it wasn't.

My chest ached.

For a long time, I held onto this house because, in my memories, she was still here. I could pretend that she was in the kitchen making dinner or doing laundry or luring me into the basement den where our toys were.

In Manhattan, our favorite spots were riddled with new memories and hordes of strangers. It was hard to imagine her in a city so loud and pulsing with life.

"I appreciate it, man."

Snapping out of my thoughts, I turned to face John. He was more of an acquaintance than a friend and I only knew him as the owner of the club in downtown Chattanooga where we used to meet other people like us. People who found pleasure in unusual ways.

"Likewise," I told him. "I wouldn't trust anyone else with this place."

He knew what I meant.

I wanted to leave all the furniture and equipment. The average cabin buyer wasn't so interested in things such as a whipping bench, an X-cross, stockades, and a bondage horse.

So, naturally, I required some discretion with the new owner. John was the ideal match and I was more than glad to get this property out of my hands now that I was spending more time in Tennessee.

"I'll be up here a lot," he said. "Spare me from going to the club so often."

We shook hands and I slid into the cold leather comfort of my Model 3. Plugging in the address of my new residence, I started through the winding roads. Every so often, the tip of Lookout Mountain came into view, looming over the city below. There was a certain charm to these rolling green mountains. They felt full of life and possibility.

A phone call came through from my mother, cutting off the new radio playing through my car.

"Hello, Mother," I answered.

"Jamie," she greeted fondly. "How are you, honey? How have things gone with Leah?"

I sighed.

I did not care to have this conversation right now. That woman had already taken up more time and space in my life than I deemed acceptable. The thought of tolerating her on a regular basis as my assistant sounded like hell.

"Things are fine. I've hired her as my PA."

"Is that so? I thought you hated the girl."

"I never said I didn't. She doesn't want to be involved in finance right now and that's the only position she qualifies for."