The Dom with a Safeword (Badass Brats #1)

by Silverwood, Cari

  She wobbled a bit as he hooked her into some O-ring cuffs and adjusted the rope length so she could stand flatfooted. More cuffs went around her ankles, and were clipped to another ring recessed into the floor. She hadn’t noticed the floor rings at first. Even with the booze-goggles on, she was happy she didn’t have to have sex with him. He wasn’t bad, but compared to Jude’s angelic countenance, Lee was a bit of a troll.

  They had a short conversation about what toys she was willing to try. It was about as intimate as telling the guy at the pizza place what toppings she wanted. Lee seemed to care about as much.

  He began. A beating from someone who didn’t care about her wasn’t the same – like masturbation versus sex. He slid needles under her skin. She had to remind herself that she’d agreed to try it. Maybe it was different with someone you trusted? Subspace found her eventually, despite their lack of connection, and the relationship became all about her and the flogger, with Lee becoming incidental. She lost all sense of time, only vaguely aware when he switched to the crop. It pulled scream after scream from her, until she felt empty.

  Pain changed and ramped up. The cane and single-tail vied for her attention. Her comfortable haze abandoned her. She hung from her wrists, hands numb. Shoulders ached. He was saying cruel things to her. Skin was fire. Whore. Blows stopped waiting for her, and she couldn’t process the pain. You deserve to suffer. Agony rained down. “Red! Red! Red!” she screamed. Did the words come? It didn’t stop. Red ran through her head, but she didn’t know if it came out of her mouth. You’re a waste of flesh. Did only she hear red? But red was universal. Red worked everywhere. He didn’t understand her? He didn’t care. She was going to die here. She stopped screaming. She didn’t care either.

  Chapter 19

  Sabrina

  Sabrina grinned, staring at the email message on the computer screen. The photo of the apparition from Jude’s house was a finalist in a photo contest. A professional paranormal investigating organization wanted to buy her photo. Two hundred dollars! She couldn’t hold back a little squeal. Q would be psyched. And Jude would –

  Her grin faded. It’d been two months. Why was she still thinking of him as if he was still here? Even Q – who was technically living with her, wasn’t really here.

  Her gaze fell to the photo in the cheap colorful frame on the desk. She’d left it next to the computer despite Q’s protests. She’d hoped it would make her smile – the three of them making goofy faces at the camera – but more often than not, it made her cry. Especially when Q had started pulling away in earnest.

  And Jude…he didn’t answer her emails. Yeah, the experiment was over but she’d hoped they could at least remain friends. He hadn’t replied to a single one, even when she’d attached photos that he asked for before he left. She wanted to hate him, to yell at him, but she dissolved into tears before the words became clear in her head.

  Every little thing reminded her of him. Half the time his fucking song was stuck in her head. The alert sound on online chat reminded her of conversations between him and Q. Even her solace, her special place at the beach wasn’t safe. All she saw was Jude carrying her over his shoulder into the waves and feeding strawberries to Q on a blanket. Small moments – snippets of a different time and place. People who’d changed, drifted in and out of her life.

  But Q. She was supposed to stay. Forever. She hadn’t been eating much, despite Sabrina cooking her favorites and bugging her every night. She’d barely even been home this past week.

  She’d randomly dyed her hair blue – not so unusual for Q. But then she’d gone out and pierced almost every spot on her face – and who knew where else. She shuddered. When Sabrina tried to engage her, she pulled away. She ignored her texts. She acted gruff and uninterested when they were in the same room. But then, when she thought Sabrina wasn’t looking, she’d gaze at her with a longing expression. It broke her heart and made her angry all at once.

  Q had promised they’d stay friends after the experiment, no matter what happened. Damn her for going back on her word. But then, Sabrina was having a hard time with that herself. She had to fight the impulse to wrap her arms around Q from behind when she made her coffee in the morning, kiss her pouty lips when she looked sad, ask her to cuddle on the couch and watch a favorite movie. But nobody did those kinds of things with platonic friends. Were they even that anymore? One thing was for sure – her best friend and favorite person in the world was slowly slipping away. And the only person she might have turned to for help was gone. Jude.

  Not for the first time in the last few days, tears ran down her cheeks. Ridiculous! She’d just gotten great news and she was crying!

  “Look what you’ve done to me, Q.” She cursed her out loud.

  If things were different…if her family were more accepting…they’d probably be sitting on the couch, giggling and cuddling right now. If life were simpler, she’d follow her heart. She’d happily live in her own little world with Q, oblivious to the judgment and scathing looks around her.

  The summer had been the best time of her life. Was it worth it – giving that up to do what was proper according to her family? Even if it meant she suffered? Where was the trade off? She’d sacrificed Q, now where was her prince charming and house and 2.5 kids and perfect, normal life?

  Normal, suddenly seemed highly overrated.

  What she really wanted was her unconventional, odd, sometimes stubborn, often sweet, sexy girlfriend. What she really wanted was Q – in her arms, laughing at her silly jokes, kissing her after a bad day, standing over her with a crop in her hand. And her prince charming? Well, he came in the form of a good-humored, blond Dom with a thing for turning old houses into kinky, well-decorated dungeons. She craved his hand in her hair when giving gruff commands, the gleam in his eye when he’d caught her being naughty, his beer-flavored kisses, his laughter booming off the empty walls of the house.

  More tears fell. The best time of her life had passed in only a summer. It wasn’t fair.

  But neither was famine or slavery or war or way worse predicaments than hers. Nobody got what they wanted in life without big sacrifices.

  Her phone rang. The name Ivy flashed across the screen. Q’s kinky goth friend? What did she want?

  “Hello?”

  “Sabrina? This is Q’s friend, Ivy.” They had talked a few times just after Nico had kicked Q to the curb. She seemed to know more about how Q was feeling then than Sabrina had. More recently she’d learned it was because Q had been keeping her kink life in the closet. “Is Q home yet? She was supposed to call me and she hasn’t been answering her phone.”

  “No.” She glanced at the time. Midnight wasn’t late for Q, but Ivy sounded alarmed. “Why? What’s wrong?”

  She hesitated then blurted, “I knew I should’ve have let her go with him. I’m so sorry. God, if anything happens to her I’ll just die!”

  “Whoa! Slow down.” Her heart started to race. “Where is she?”

  After an audible breath, she told her Q had gone to play at a private residence with a stranger who had a bad reputation.

  “I’m sorry.” The girl sobbed. “She assured me she was fine. And, well, you know Q. She doesn’t back down easy.”

  “Okay. It’s okay. Just tell me where she is.” Shaking with nerves and anger and…fucking desperation, she grabbed her purse and keys and headed to the car while Ivy rambled off an address. “You’re at the club right now?” At her affirmation she took control. “I’m swinging by to pick you up. I’ll need help getting Q out. You may be a sub but I’ve heard you can put a wayward Dom in his place.”

  Tires screeched as she peeled out of the parking lot and let her inner bitch take over. If Q went and died because she was too hung up on a guy to use common sense, Sabrina was going to kill her.

  After collecting Ivy, she followed the GPS out of town and into a sparsely occupied wooded area. The long driveway led to a house up on a hill. The outside lights were on but it still looked sinister. Or maybe it was
all in her head.

  She jumped out of the car and stared at the old farmhouse. “Come on. We have to make sure Q is okay.” Damn her for not listening to her uncle and getting a handgun permit. That’d be helpful right about now. She looked back at Ivy, who seemed to have swallowed her guilt and replaced it with determination. Good. She needed the back-up. “Call the police if this guy threatens us or Q at all, okay?”

  She nodded.

  They walked to the door and stopped. “Should we knock?” Sabrina asked.

  Ivy shrugged.

  The sound of Q’s voice answered her question. “Red… red…pleeease.” It was little more than a whimper, but she could hear it clearly through the door. There was a loud crack and Q sobbed.

  Oh hell. She burst through the door and followed the heart-wrenching sounds through a kitchen and straight into a nightmare of kinky proportions. She barely registered the man standing to the side, whip in hand. The only thing on her mind was Q, hanging limply from her wrists…and bleeding.

  “Hey!” The man yelled. “Who the fuck are you?”

  Ignoring him, she choked back a sob and rushed to Q’s side. “Q! Are you okay?”

  She stared at the wall, moaning. Needles had been slid under her skin, making a line down her un-tattooed side. Blood oozed to the surface on the back of one thigh where it looked like a cane had hit too hard and split the skin. Bruises marred her back and breasts.

  Anger welled up in Sabrina’s chest. She grabbed Q’s face. “Wake up, honey. Tell me you’re okay.” More moaning that tore at Sabrina’s heart. “We’re gonna get you out of here. Just hang on.”

  The man placed himself in her line of sight. “I said, who the fuck are you?”

  Sabrina whirled on him. “Her fucking girlfriend. I’d suggest you stay the hell out of my way before I decide to call the state deputy. Also known as my cousin.” It was a lie but he didn’t need to know that. Sometimes bullshitting was the best way out of a situation.

  “You just trespassed on private property. And as far as I’m concerned, you’re stealing something of mine.” He took a step forward, tapping the whip handle on his leg.

  Ivy moved to Sabrina’s side, looking between them nervously. “Don’t antagonize him, Sabrina,” she whispered. “He looks like he might have a few screws loose.”

  She was beyond caring. Anger outweighed any sense. “Start taking out the needles,” she told Ivy before addressing the fuck that hurt her Q. “You have a girl strung up in your torture chamber, barely conscious. And she’s bleeding. Do you really want to invite law enforcement in here?”

  He looked at Q, still dangling from the ceiling then shrugged. “Fine. Take the bitch. I’m finished with her anyway.”

  Fucking asshole. She released a breath. Good that she wouldn’t have any trouble, but how she wished she could pound the living daylights out of him. She turned to Q, who barely registered that Ivy was carefully pulling needles out of her skin.

  She searched the room for her clothes. At least she had underwear on. A t-shirt would be fine for the car ride home. She grabbed the black shirt off the floor. Ivy placed each needle on the coffee table. Sabrina did a double-take. Not a coffee table – a restraint system.

  She shuddered. When the needles were out, she handed Ivy the t-shirt and unbuckled the cuffs. She barely caught Q when her knees buckled.

  “Stand up, Q,” she gritted out, crushed under the weight of her taller friend. “You have to stand so we can help you.” Sabrina gave her a shake and Ivy patted her face.

  Q seemed to come to a bit. She nodded and straightened, on wobbly legs but at least standing. Sabrina helped support her with an arm under hers as Ivy tugged on her shirt.

  “Grab her jeans,” she told Ivy, guessing Q had stashed her wallet and keys in her pockets. Headed for the door, she spared a glance at the bastard who dared call himself a Dom. He’d just sat down on the couch with a beer and was about to turn on the TV – as if it were an ordinary Saturday night and nothing had happened.

  “Asshole,” she muttered. “Let’s get you home, Q.”

  Ivy and Sabrina shuffled Q out to the car barefoot, not wanting to stop long enough to buckle her knee-high boots. Sabrina motioned for Ivy to drive but she was already one step ahead and opened the back door for them. The shout of pain when Q sat down in the car was like a knife to Sabrina’s heart.

  “Fuck. What were you thinking, Q?” Sabrina grumbled to herself. She pulled Q sideways so her upper body lay in her lap. Her shoulders trembled and at first she thought Q was crying, but when she rolled her face up, her teeth chattered. “Shit. She’s gonna go into shock. Ivy, there’s a blanket in the trunk, can you get it?”

  A moment later, Ivy draped the blanket she used for beach trips on Q’s body, then she slid in the driver’s side and blasted the heat. “To the hospital?” Ivy asked.

  “No!” Q tried to sit up but Sabrina held her down – or tried to. The girl was fucking strong, even when barely conscious. “No hospitals. I just need to sleep.”

  “Q, you’re –”

  “Sabrina, please?” The sorrow in her voice tugged at her. “Please don’t make me answer questions about what happened.”

  Nosy doctors would be all over her ass, demanding answers, calling in social workers. Q would be mortified. Now that they’d covered her body, she stopped shivering. Her eyes looked clearer. The wounds were superficial – they could bandage them at home.

  She sighed. “Alright. To the apartment.” Gently, she tugged Q back into her lap. Stroking her hair, she scolded, “Why on earth would you do this to yourself, Q? You scared the shit out of me. I get that you’re upset about Jude. Piercings are one thing, but my god, you could’ve been murdered! Do you have any sense at all?” Then her brain processed what her fingers already had. “Your hair!” It looked like someone had taken a blunt machete to it. “What did you do to your beautiful hair?”

  Q remained quiet, but her breathing had steadied and her muscles relaxed.

  “I should have never broken things off,” she whispered, more to herself. It was her fault Q had almost just died – hers and Jude’s. She wished she could kick his sorry ass for leaving her. And if Sabrina had been brave enough to stand up for what she believed in instead of hiding – like a coward – this never would’ve happened. Thank god she’d made it in time. If something worse than this had happened to Q…tears welled up in her eyes.

  “I’m so sorry.” Sabrina leaned down and kissed her hair.

  “I don’t want your pity,” she slurred.

  “It’s not pity. I mean it. I love you. It just took me a while to…realize it.” Denial was a powerful trap.

  “No.” She shifted as if trying to get away then seemed to think better of it and gave up with a sigh. “I definitely don’t want your pity love. I’m pathetic enough without it.”

  Sabrina’s patience snapped. “It’s not pity, dumbass! I busted down the door of a stranger’s house for you. If he had tried to keep me from taking you, I probably would’ve gotten myself killed protecting you. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is. Now lie still and shut up!”

  There was a pause long enough to make Sabrina think she’d fallen asleep, then, “When did you get so bossy?”

  She chuckled and kissed her temple. “When I thought I’d lost you.”

  Ivy dropped them at the apartment, promising to get her car back to her in the morning. Q seemed stronger and pushed Sabrina away when she tried to help her into the house. But Sabrina managed to bully her into her bedroom and lie down on the bed while she bandaged her wounds.

  The dim lamp on the side table didn’t provide much light but Sabrina didn’t want to disturb Q, who seemed to be resting soundly. She only winced a few times when Sabrina dabbed on the antiseptic cream. The wounds would probably heal without scarring. Luckily, it did seem like Fuckface knew what he was doing – for that part of things anyway. There wasn’t much Sabrina could do for the bruising though. Q would feel that for at least a week. But she
bandaged up the gashes on her thighs then tucked her under the covers.

  She considered her options from here. This was Q’s room and they hadn’t been the closest of roommates lately. Should she sit beside her or leave right away or –

  “Fuck it,” she mumbled, unzipping her jeans then letting them fall to the floor. She kicked off her flip flops then freed herself from her bra before approaching the bed.

  “What are you doing, little girl?” Q’s voice sounded too small to be in big, bad Domme mode.

  “Oh, I’m ‘little girl’ again, huh?” She made a scooting motion with her hands. “I’m getting in bed with you, and you know I only wear underwear and a tee to bed. Move over.”

  Q chuckled softly as she made room for Sabrina. It was good to hear her laugh, even if it was weak. Sabrina slid in under the covers and lay down on her side, facing away from Q.

  She could feel Q’s breath warming the back of her neck but Q didn’t touch her. After a few moments of scrambling for something to say and coming up empty, she reached back and grabbed Q’s wrist then tugged it around her waist. Q chuckled again and tightened her hold while Sabrina ran her fingers up and down her arm.

  “You don’t act like a straight girl,” Q whispered, nuzzling into her hair.

  She smiled into the pillow. “You don’t make me feel like one.”

  Another moment of silence then, “So this is it, Sabrina? One night I was in danger and suddenly you’re bi?”

  She inhaled slowly then exhaled, thinking through the right words. It was more complicated than what Q boiled it down to. And it would be hard for Q to believe her no matter what she said. So she did her best to explain.