Dance for Me

by Kay Elle Parker

  Loki lurked near the hallway leading to barn two and Braun’s office, with orders to block it off only if Bodie went that way. It would be a lot easier if he could smuggle her straight into his office to hash this mess out, but the way his life was going at present, easier wasn’t on his cards.

  Jasper strolled up to Braun, fresh from a scene by the look of him, and accepted the glass of water Liam slid down to the bar. He sipped, casually surveying the busy Saturday night crowd. A few scenes had ended, and a range of satisfied individuals lounged around, talking with friends, while latecomers searched for play partners or their other halves.

  “Are you damned sure this is how you want to deal with this, my friend?”

  Braun shook his head slowly. “Not how I want to deal with it, no. But she’s not coping well, and neither am I. I’m not playing the avoidance game anymore, J. One way or another, this gets sorted tonight.”

  “Okay then. I have to say, I’m a bit pissed you’re using me as your sheepdog, Braun. I like the lass, I’m not keen on scaring the shit out of her.”

  Guilt gnawed at his guts. “I know, sorry. I need her to stop thinking and run. If she has a chance to think, she’ll see the trap and head for her bolt hole. With you, she shuts off and reacts.”

  Jasper grunted, then rolled his shoulders as the lights on stage spotlighted the woman in question and music thudded from the speakers.

  A remix of Fall Out Boy’s Sugar, We’re Goin’ Down, Braun noted. How apt.

  “Guess that’s my cue,” the sadist said, setting his glass down. He rolled up his sleeves to expose his thick forearms and the tattoos of War and Pestilence in full color on either arm. Famine and Death rode his biceps in a glorious set of sleeves. “When you have her to heel, I want some time with her in exchange for this favor, Braun. She and I need to come to an understanding where she doesn’t piss herself whenever she’s near me.”

  Braun nodded. “If I can catch her and tame her, she’s all yours for an hour.”

  “Okay then, Operation Subbie Rescue is officially a go. Everyone’s in place?” At Braun’s affirmative, Jasper tapped a finger to his forehead and strolled into the throng of people, cutting through them without making a stir.

  Bodie would never see him coming.

  Braun observed her carefully. None of the crowd would notice how she faltered here and there, missing a beat occasionally. She was fatigued—he could see it in the flow of her limbs, the slight missteps. Whatever was causing her unhappiness, he would get to the bottom of it tonight.

  If it was him...well, sometimes letting the bird out of the cage was the only solution. All he could hope for was that she would come back to him one day when she felt able.

  Jasper ascended the stage steps like a ghost, disappearing behind the curtain without Bodie catching the barest glimpse.

  Beneath the stage, Connie eased back into the shadows, ready to offer a friendly face if Bodie panicked.

  The song ended, Bodie bent over backwards in a grand flourish, much to the appreciation of the club. Applause and whistles erupted; the members had grown to love her performances as much as she loved dancing for them.

  It took too long for her to get to her feet.

  She staggered to a standing position, breathing hard.

  Jasper stalked out onto the stage like a wolf.

  It physically hurt Braun’s heart to see Bodie freeze on the spot when she realized she wasn’t alone on the stage. It damn near ripped the fucking thing out when she lost every ounce of color and took a hasty step back as Jasper lifted his hands where she could watch them, his mouth moving as he spoke to her.

  Shaking her head slowly, her eyes darted around, seeking an escape route that didn’t send her directly into Jasper’s arms, and came to rest on the edge of the stage. Even barefoot as she usually was for dancing, the four-foot drop posed a risk. If she slipped, if she landed wrong...but there was no stopping her once she made up her mind.

  Jasper lunged for her, missed her arm by a hair, and closed his eyes as she made the leap.

  The landing jarred her, sent her stumbling forward into the crowd. Several hands reached out to steady her, but she just shoved through people, heading for the exit. Definitely not thinking. An arm’s length away from Atticus, she pulled up short, backpedaled quickly as the big man held out his hand, palm up, and smiled at her.

  She bolted, heading back toward the stage and her hidey-hole, but both Connie and Jasper were waiting for her now. Frantic, frazzled, she spun in a circle as Dominants and submissives alike tried to calm her down.

  “Please tell me you’re going to put her out of her misery,” Liam snapped from behind him. “I can’t watch this, Braun.”

  No, neither could he. He shoved away from the bar without answering his friend, striding into the center of chaos. She was whimpering, slapping at the hands that dared reach out as he approached.

  Braun didn’t hesitate. He ducked as she swung at him, tucked his shoulder into her midriff, and folded her into position as her fists hammered on his back. Pinning her legs with his arm, he simply turned around and carried her silently to his office.

  Closing the door, he locked it and stood stoically, taking each blow without a word. Her pain was tangible and hurt him more than her tiny hands ever could. Her silence was deafening.

  As the minutes ticked by, her legs stopped kicking and the ferocity of her fists waned. Even when she hung limp, he didn’t move, didn’t say a word.

  It was only when the first explosive sob ripped through her that he eased her carefully to her feet. He’d organized what he thought he’d need hours before, stacking items on the couch to the right of his desk.

  Once he started this, he wasn’t moving for anything.

  Not until they were on the same page.

  With an arm around her waist, he half-carried half-guided her where he wanted her as the keening sound of a woman on the edge echoed around the room. Somehow, he was the cause of this, and he couldn’t stand it.

  “Darlin’, I’m going to put the blanket around you. If you’re comfortable with doing so, I’d like you to strip down to your underwear. Can you do that for me?” Braun had no idea whether she could even hear him through her pain.

  Sobs wracked her body as she lifted her arms like a child.

  Braun gritted his teeth and grasped the hem of her black lacy shirt. She’d improved her dress standards for the club, he noticed, upping the sexiness with every weekend that passed. He lifted the shirt up and over her head and arms, and Bodie immediately wrapped her arms around her waist.

  Christ, he’d never seen so many tears come out of a woman.

  He ignored the swell of her breasts in their tiny sports bra and hooked his fingers into the waistband of the high-cut spandex shorts clinging to her hip bones.

  His girl was cruising for a spanking for letting herself deteriorate this far.

  Hands gentle, he worked the shorts down her lean, toned legs to her feet, sinking onto his haunches. “Grab onto my shoulders, little one. Use me to balance.”

  Her knees buckled as he removed the material from around her second foot; Braun surged up, hooking his arm under her butt and anchoring her to his body. A fierce sense of protectiveness washed through him when she smushed her face into his chest and clung. “All this running away from me, little one. What the hell’s been going through your head?”

  He yanked the blanket off the couch, shook it out one-handed, and bundled her into it where she stood. She keened quietly when he urged her back a step to tuck it around her front, then choked on another harsh sob when he scooped her up and stretched himself along the couch with her curled on top of him, propping his back against the arm for support.

  Braun checked she was fully covered by the blanket, then settled in for the long haul. One arm curled over her waist. His free hand stroked wherever he could reach. He said nothing because he didn’t quite know where to start, and he wanted her to listen, to take in everything he needed to tell her.
<
br />   They’d get through this.

  He closed his eyes and focused on Bodie. It felt like an eternity since he’d last held her like this, and it felt just as right as the last time. Persuading her she belonged here with him—and her body evidently agreed with him.

  Her sobs were no longer forceful enough to break ribs, dying off into vicious gulps of breath, and the shakes were calming into nasty little tremors. There wasn’t much for him to do but be there, providing a safe haven while she lost herself for the time being.

  *

  The terror of being hunted replayed in her head as she shivered and fought against the shackles of her tears. Turning one way, then another, dodging members of the club in her panic. Running with nowhere to go as though the hounds of hell were on her heels.

  Jasper could pass as a hellhound.

  Fuck, she’d been pumped up on Fall Out Boy, the drumbeat still pounding in her veins. Sure, she’d been tired, and it had cost her valuable energy to stand up, but she’d done it. When she’d seen him walk towards her, those eerie blue eyes lasered in on his prey, all her internal organs had shriveled up and died.

  What had he said when he’d raised his hands?

  “Time to come home, poppet. Denying who you are is making you miserable, and rejecting your Dominant is turning him into a miserable fucker.”

  The Master may have hit the nail on the head, but he’d also sent her into a tailspin so sharp, she’d lost all sense of what was. And then there was Atticus, hand at the ready, and she’d been tempted to take it, to let herself be drawn into arms that would hold her tight. But they were the wrong arms.

  The wrong man.

  Braun had rescued her, taking her away from the hell she was fully aware he’d orchestrated. She didn’t give a shit if he’d organized the whole terrifying ordeal—it had taken her one night to realize she’d done the wrong thing in running from him that first night, and that she’d only compounded the issue by avoiding him the next.

  The past month had been a nightmare.

  How the hell was she supposed to sleep when her mind constantly second-guessed the decisions she’d made that night? Or eat, knowing she’d fucked up royally and had no feasible way of fixing the mess she’d made without sacrificing her pride?

  Pride was something she’d held onto tightly, no matter who tried to pry it out of her hands. The night her mother chained her to the fence, naked and bloody, Bodie had clung to her pride, even when the site manager arrived and discovered her. She hadn’t begged, she hadn’t cried. Despite the cold eating into her bones, she’d politely asked him to please cut her down before anyone else saw her.

  Being a nice man, he’d rushed to help her, offering to call the police and EMTs. That would’ve been a death sentence for them both, had she given in to his earnest attempts to sway her.

  Her breath hitched, another wave of tears threatening to roll over the top of her if she wasn’t careful how far down memory lane she ventured. That was one of the most difficult memories to repress, but it wasn’t the worst of what was hidden away.

  Braun’s hand gripped the nape of her neck, strong fingers massaging the fragile stem in reassurance. The power in his hands would make it easy for him to snap her neck in a heartbeat. If he’d been anything like her father, he probably would’ve done so by now—Abraham wasn’t renowned for his patience.

  The knead of his fingers eased the crying headache brewing behind her pufferfish eyes, much to her relief. Her breathing was almost back to normal, although her nose was stuffy. She’d shoved herself through the wringer this time. Last time was bad enough.

  “Back with me, little one?”

  Little one. It was pathetic, wasn’t it, how much joy two words could bring? She’d thought she would never hear him say that to her again. That he could call her his little one after everything she’d done...some things were worth more than pride.

  Bodie hadn’t wasted the time spent away from the club. The money she earned had gone toward rent and bills, and a new phone—a luxury she’d never had. Everything in her life was pretty much a hand-me-down; she wasn’t used to shiny and flawless.

  Sitting on the floor of her still bare apartment, she’d spent long nights researching BDSM and what it meant. Tried to figure out what it meant to her. Made a long and complicated list of pros and cons, then measured it against Braun.

  Compared a lonely life against one filled with him.

  The Master won hands down, however she looked at it.

  His heart beat steadily under her cheek, as dependable as the man it belonged to. He hadn’t given up on her, even when it appeared—no, when she had—given up on him.

  No, that wasn’t right either. It wasn’t Braun she’d given up on, it was herself. And there went another chunk of pride as she admitted she thought she wasn’t worthy of fighting for. Her future, her happiness, came second to whoever held control over her life.

  Her parents.

  Alicia.

  Braun.

  Liam.

  The five people who could make her dance to any tune but her own if they so chose to, and of those five, there were three who would happily see her dance to her grave. Because they could. Because it amused them.

  Because she deserved it.

  “Not quite there yet, are we?” Fingers nudged her chin up until her blurry vision focused on the face she’d dreamed of in the few hours her body stole every night. “Wondered how long it would take for you to recover from that tempest.”

  “You set me up.” Shit, her voice was toast.

  “You left me no choice. As far as I was aware, we shared something special—certainly nothing I’ve ever felt before.” His thumb smoothed over her dry lips. “Next thing I know, you’ve taken off without a word and ignore not only me, but every authority figure in the club. How long did you think you’d get away with it?”

  Apparently, they were going to go straight at it, Bodie mused. Braun wasn’t shouting at her, but he definitely wasn’t happy with her. Well, he’d have to join the queue—she wasn’t overjoyed with how she’d reacted that night. “I wasn’t trying to get away with anything.”

  “Bodie, you’ve been harder to pin down than a greased-up pig at the state fair. Liam’s been pulling his hair out, Jasper’s under the impression you hate him, and I’m wondering what the fuck I did wrong that scared you so damn much you’d pull a stunt like this.”

  She waited for her hackles to bristle at his accusation of scaring her, then took a breath when they didn’t so much as twitch. Her inner bitch remained quiet, which was a miracle in itself. “I panicked,” she confessed, and waved goodbye to another piece of her pride. “I wasn’t thinking, and by the time I calmed down...I didn’t know how to get back from where I stranded myself.”

  “It was a kiss, little one. I’m assuming that’s the root of the problem.”

  The giant root, she thought in disgust. “No one’s ever...that wasn’t just a kiss for me, Braun. It was a fucking epiphany. If we hadn’t stopped, I’d have asked for more. More for me is terrifying. Not just sex, but acquiescing control. I just wanted time to wrap my head around it all.” There, that didn’t sound so bad, did it?

  Blue eyes roamed over her face as though sensing a lie. “Did someone hurt you, Bodie?”

  A laugh huffed free, sad and dull. “Everyone. One way or another.”

  Something dark passed over his features before he schooled them into something more measured. “Anyone you’d like me to beat the shit out of? I’m more than happy to oblige.”

  This time her laugh was lighter. She could just imagine her big strong Dom standing up to the monster who was her father without fear; the only problem was she couldn’t bet on who’d win between them.

  Braun was a guy who played fair, followed the rules, abided by his code and morals.

  Abraham, on the other hand, didn’t know the meaning of fair, abhorred rules and everything they stood for, and his code was that of the streets. His morals were nonexistent. There’d b
e a blade shived into Braun’s kidneys before he knew what hit him.

  “They don’t matter. What’s done is done, it can’t be changed and I’m afraid,” so fucking afraid, “I can’t either. I’m too much trouble, Braun. The hell of my life will leech into yours if you keep trying to take me under your wing. I can’t risk that.”

  He grunted. “I’m old enough and stupid enough to make my own decisions on what’s too much trouble, Bodie. And I’m not taking you under my wing—Connie's the mother hen if you recall. You’ve been in the club often enough now to see the dynamics at work, you know they’re not all exactly alike. Whatever you feel comfortable with is all I’m asking, little one. I’m begging you to give this a shot, to see if we can make something between us that lasts.”

  She sighed. If he was prepared to dismiss the danger she posed, how did she make him listen? Oh, she was aware she was using her parents as a last ditch attempt to deter him from pursuing this, even though she was going to fold and give him what he thought he wanted, but until he understood what kind of family she came from, he couldn’t make an informed decision.

  “Do you really want to be with someone whose family would blackmail you down to your last cent if they got wind of this place? Because that’s the kind of people I come from, Braun. They’ve done it to me more than once. I can’t even buy new furniture for my apartment because the next time they drop in for their dues, they’ll wonder where I got the money, then...” She trailed off, dreading the day that happened.

  “Then what?”

  It wasn’t worth imagining. Her father would smash the apartment up and knife her couch, her mattress, before pissing on everything she’d worked for like some territorial stray dog. Her mother would tear the rooms apart on the hunt for cash and valuables, leaving a swath of destruction in her wake. And once the search was complete and they had everything they wanted from her, that was when Abraham would do his duty and batter her as a warning not to skimp on what was theirs.