Talk For Me: Club Avalon Book 3

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Talk For Me: Club Avalon Book 3 Page 45

by Kay Elle Parker


  Now Lisha was gone—without so much as a goodbye—and there was nothing she could do to change it. She could only hope the facility would give Alicia the support and care she required. Hell, maybe Lisha would make friends.

  Connie’s world was shifting beneath her feet, faster than she could keep up with. She hated it. There were too many pieces breaking away, spiraling out of control. It was the natural order of things, of course—people, even the closest friends, drifted apart a little as time moved on. Relationships, marriages, kids, careers…they all contributed to the evolution of a person.

  She just wished it didn’t feel as though it was the end of the world.

  Smoothing out the note, Connie refolded it carefully and slipped it into her pocket. It would go into her secret box of treasured keepsakes, the little lockbox she kept hidden in her home office. One day, she might read it again and believe she’d done some good in Alicia’s life.

  She left the room, closing the door behind her.

  Feeling desolate, she decided to keep her hands—and her brain—as busy as she could, and hurried to the kitchen to begin a cleaning session designed to exhaust herself. If she was tired enough, maybe when she crawled into bed that night, she wouldn’t feel a boot hammering against her body or hear Guthrie’s voice taunting her while she slept.

  Please, God. Just a little respite.

  Epilogue

  In Avalon’s parking lot, Thane curled his fingers around Connie’s neck and dropped his forehead against hers. His woman was trembling in the warmth of the evening, her skin pale and clammy to the touch. She was afraid, but he hadn’t pinpointed why yet.

  The last time they’d been here, that fateful Saturday night before Guthrie fucked up everything the next morning, Connie had been partially outed as a Switch. He imagined rumors and retellings of the bar scene had already made the rounds through the club, but he wasn’t positive on that—attempted murder was a lot juicier on the gossip scale.

  “Why are you frightened, sugar?” he asked, kneading the tense muscles in her neck. It felt as though she’d reinforced the delicate stem with steel cables, strung so tight he was surprised they weren’t crippling her. “No one here will hurt you.”

  “It’s not that.” She anchored herself with his waist. “My life’s falling apart, Thane. All my safe places aren’t safe anymore. What if we walk through the doors and Avalon isn’t mine the way I need it to be? I can’t deal with any more upheaval. I just haven’t got the strength.”

  “I have had the pleasure of working with some of the strongest, most determined men and women this country has to offer, sugar. We went through hell together, dragged each other out again, and did some great things.” He pressed his lips to the tip of her nose. “You, Doctor Monroe, went to hell and came back again, all by yourself, when Evan did his best to destroy you. This time around, you’re not on your own. You’ll never be alone again. You are so much stronger than you ever give yourself credit for, Connie.”

  She blinked at him.

  “We won’t know what we could have become before Guthrie strolled into our lives and blew them apart. I’m telling you I’m not dwelling on it, because whatever we could have been is nothing compared to what we will be now. And yeah, we have a lot of work to do to set things back on an even keel—therapy, for starters—but our story hasn’t even hit the end of the first chapter. Avalon is the heart of it, so Avalon will always be yours.” He tipped her head back, met her brimming gray eyes with his goddamn heart in his own. “Just like me.”

  Connie moved before him, grasping his cheeks as the first tear slipped down her cheek. The kiss she initiated was hard, feverish, a melding of lips conveying all the emotions she couldn’t divulge in words. He tasted her anxiety, even as her fingers stroked through his beard lovingly. There was relief behind the sheen of moisture in her eyes, grief in the tears she couldn’t hold back.

  Thane hitched her close, sling and healing shoulder be damned. There were several pairs of eyes on them, unsurprisingly. Connie was well-loved here, the Mistress a key figure within the club. There would never be a time when she didn’t have someone to watch her back—and he was only the first in a line of many willing to keep her safe.

  “I love you, Thane.” The kiss broke on the whispered declaration. “I love you.”

  A car cruised slowly down the driveway, the headlights illuminating them where they stood.

  He ran the pad of his thumb over the shape of her lips as his eyes raked over her face. No amount of makeup could hide the pain she was in, the horror she’d been through. Gently, he skimmed his fingertips over the remnants of swelling on her cheekbone, the bruises he found abhorrent no matter what their color.

  In twelve hours’ time, they would be driving two hours to Atticus’s cabin in the Saguaro National Park. With the Master’s help, Thane had wrangled a month’s leave for Connie from the practice, and as far as he was concerned, it marked the beginning of their healing process.

  Time away, together, to talk about everything. Time to just be. Out in the wilderness, they didn’t have to be Dominant and submissive. There were no masks to keep firmly in place. They could just be two wounded people finding solace in each other.

  “Not as much as I love you, Connie. Trust me.” Thane kissed her again, then stepped back and curled his arm around her waist as the car pulled into a space and the engine died. “Come on, your adoring fans are waiting for you, sugar. I heard a rumor Loki is planning on doing a striptease, just for you.”

  Connie choked on a surprised laugh, pressing her hand gingerly to sore ribs. “Nothing’s ever a rumor when it comes to Loki being the center of attention. That stripper pole they installed for Bodie might actually get some use.”

  He leaned in close, murmuring, “Maybe I can be your stripper pole later.”

  “We both agreed no playing tonight. Neither of us are in the right headspace, and I don’t think either of us could lift a flogger for more than five minutes at this point.” She guided him up the steps onto the porch, just as much as he ushered her. “This is…”

  A small woman stepped into the threshold, her black hair gleaming in the lights of the reception area. She’d tamed its length into a delicate plait, and she wore casual clothes similar to Connie’s. Her baby belly was a rounded swell beneath baggy material, cradled with both hands. “There you are! Braun lets me out of the damn house for like ten minutes to see you, and you spend all night out here.”

  “Bodie,” Connie murmured, breath catching. “You look…”

  “Like I ate a football. I know. Our gremlin is growing, slowly.” Bodie’s smile faltered as her eyes searched her friend’s. “I don’t know what to say, Connie. I’m sorry doesn’t seem—”

  Yeah, this is what she needed, Thane thought as his lover hurried forward to hug Bodie. A night of easy camaraderie, no alcohol, no pressure, just friendship and support after a really fucking tough time.

  He stepped aside as a Dom sauntered past him—squeezing past the two women in the doorway—and disappeared into Avalon. When they parted, both of them were crying, and he groaned under his breath, thinking of all the ways Braun could pulverize him for upsetting the delicate sub.

  Gallantly, hoping to avoid getting his ass kicked too hard, he moved between them, offering one arm to Bodie, and his sling to Connie. “Let’s go get some seats, before we all fall down. It’s nice to officially meet you, Bodie.”

  The little imp gave him a thorough once-over, sharp blue eyes missing nothing if her expression was anything to go by. “You must be Thane. Master Thane now, right? He who— with his bare hands—obliterated the guy who hurt Connie.” She took his offered arm, gave it an approving pat. “You’ll fit in just fine around here, Master Thane.”

  Feeling smug, Thane led the two women inside, pausing at the desk while an unfamiliar Dom signed him and Connie in, then continued through the double doors into Avalon. He got a glimpse of the usual crowd in the seating pit before Liam spotted them, and whooped loud eno
ugh to turn every head in the place.

  Braun came to claim his sub before she was swept up and away by the small flock of people who mobbed around them.

  Connie deflected most of the attention, thanking everyone, assuring them all that she was okay, that Thane was doing just fine—as they could see for themselves. As the well-wishers filtered down to a few diehards, she wordlessly nudged him in the direction of the pit, lifting her eyebrow to dispel any urges to disobey her, and she beelined for the bar, taking the stragglers with her.

  God, he did love that woman.

  *

  By the time she reached Liam, the last of the gossipers had dispersed, much to her relief. She was appreciative of the support, but the attention…she didn’t like the attention. There were little pools of anxious sweat gathering beneath her clothes, fine tremors in her fingers.

  On the surface, however, the Mistress’ game face came in handy.

  “There’s my beautiful girl,” Liam crooned, heading straight for her and ignoring patiently waiting customers. Those gray eyes of his—so light in contrast to hers—saw only her. “Forgiven me for my sins yet, sweetheart?”

  At this point in time, she figured any and all sins should be forgiven, her own included. She was too old, too damn tired, to carry around extra baggage in the form of a grudge. Holding her hand out, she waited until Liam set his big palm against hers, then clutched it. “There was never anything to forgive, Liam. You all did what you thought was necessary, and maybe it was.”

  His blond brow hiked. “Maybe, Mistress?”

  “All right, it was necessary. As much as it galled me to have my private life interfered with by a bunch of big lummoxes, you brought something irreplaceable into my life. Something—someone—I didn’t even know I needed.” She glanced over her shoulder to see Thane kneeling on the floor by her usual seat, and something twisted in her belly. “I held on to Alicia for too long. I love that girl, but keeping her with me when things weren’t working was doing both of us more harm than good.”

  “And now?”

  She faced Liam again and smiled quietly. “Now, it’s time I learn to embrace me again. All of me. I need to teach myself to share both sides of me equally.” She inhaled quietly, gave his hand a quick squeeze, then inched back. “Can you send two cokes over to the pit, please, Master Liam? There’s something I have to do.”

  The Viking Master grinned. “Knock him dead, sweetheart.”

  During the short walk to the pit, Connie kept her head down and summoned the inner peace that came with her submissive side. This was it, this was her moment. After fighting herself for so long, battling with Atticus and then Thane to let her submissive half stay hidden, she didn’t want to do it anymore.

  The past ten days had shown her many things, one of them being that she’d been given a fresh start. A new canvas with the past scribbled around the edges, and the middle blank. Her history and Thane’s would forever surround their present, and their future, but it couldn’t be erased.

  What was to come, however, could be written by them both.

  Her heart jumped as she descended each step into the pit, and when she paused by Thane, he glanced up at her with adoration she was beginning to believe she could earn. It was an expression she wore often when she looked at him, but in her eyes, he needed to earn nothing.

  He’d already won the most difficult prize.

  “Mistress?” he asked when she said nothing. “Is everything okay?”

  “Take my seat, Thane.”

  “Connie?”

  “Please.”

  With a confused glance around the seats, Thane maneuvered himself off the floor, dropping heavily into her empty space. He patted his thigh in question, still playing the role of submissive to her Domme.

  Connie sank gracefully to her knees, masking her discomfort as muscles pulled and bruises sang. She pressed her body against his calf, curling her hand around the muscle hidden beneath his pants, and rested her head against his knee with a contented sigh.

  “Seems J isn’t the only one with a kitten happy to be on his knee,” Atticus said with obvious satisfaction.

  “I’m not entirely sure what’s happening here, sugar,” Thane murmured from above her, his hand naturally falling on her head, his fingers playing with her hair until she almost purred like that happy kitten Att mentioned. “Want to fill me in?”

  This was the respite. This was her safe place.

  “We do a lot of talking, Thane. I listen to people, I talk to them, and sometimes when I need the words, I can’t find them.” She tilted her head slightly, leaning into those skilled fingers. “When I can’t find my words, it’s easier to let my actions talk for me.”

  “What are they saying now?”

  Scowling up at him, she ignored the chuckles of her friends. When Liam brought over the drinks she’d ordered, she realized she had everyone she loved—save one—right here where everything had first started.

  Braun and Bodie. Jasper and Anarchy. Atticus, Liam, Loki, and now Thane.

  Her family, however dysfunctional.

  Smiling despite the ache in her cheekbone, she closed her eyes and let the truth surround her. Like Thane’s hand on her hair, it was warm and supportive, a blessing instead of a curse.

  “I’m not afraid anymore.”

  The End

  Thank you for reading Talk For Me!

  I hope you enjoyed my tale of two Switches, and as ever, reviews are always appreciated.

  Daddy Atticus’s story is coming up with next in Walk For Me, coming in summer 2021.

  Other Works:

  Hangman’s Haunt:

  Wild

  Nocturnal

  Eclipsed

  Destined – Novella

  Shadowcrown Duet:

  King Of Shadows

  Queen Of Shadows

  Club Avalon Series:

  Dance For Me

  Cry For Me

  Talk For Me

  Walk For Me – coming August 2021

  Black Light Series:

  Black Light: Roulette Wars – Anthology

  Black Light: Branded

  Midnight Doms Series:

  The Vampire’s Captive

  Standalones:

  Speechless

  Monsters & Guardians

 

 

 


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