by Livia Grant
Garreth came up off his knees. She didn’t need to say who, and she knew the minute he spotted Ethen, because his face darkened in a flush of anger.
His foot slipped on the plastic, but he didn’t lose his balance completely. Ethen didn’t wait to see if he’d fall, either. Turning, he pushed through the dense crowd with his silent menagerie closing in protectively behind him to block Garreth’s way.
Garreth dodged them and charged into the crowd after Ethen, who headed for the exit as fast as the onlookers blocking his path would allow.
“What’s going on?” Noah asked, perplexed. He caught Hadlee’s arms as she struggled to her feet and would have reached for a towel, but she wasn’t waiting. The sight of Ethen walking away, as if nothing had ever happened, broke something loose inside her. A flood of such deep-burning shame washed through her. She looked down at herself, at the filthy body Ethen owned. It wasn’t chocolate and honey and whipped cream dripping off her belly and her legs; it was shit and rot. She wasn’t at Black Light anymore; she was lost in the middle of the night, far away from anyone who could or would help her, because she deserved it. Because she was Piggy-girl and she’d been stupid enough not only to contract with an abusive dom but to stay with him even after she’d seen the warning signs. And Ethen was walking away, with his head held high and her entire scene on his cellphone. Where he could do anything he wanted with it. Twist and pervert the whole scene, and shame her with it over and over and over again. In private or—oh God… in public…
She broke again, this time under a scalding, crushing wave of fury unlike anything she’d ever felt before. It hit her through her head as hard as any physical blow. The next thing she knew, Noah had grabbed her arm because she’d slipped on broken bits of fruit and fallen to her knees half on and half off the plastic tarp.
“Are you all right?” He tried to help her up, but Hadlee shook him off and ran after Ethen.
Funny, how slowly the crowd was inclined to move for either Ethen or Garreth, and yet how quickly those who saw her coming shoved to get out of the way. Maybe she’d laugh about it later; right now, she was too damned mad.
Dodging around Garreth, knowing he’d stop her if she got too close, Hadlee reached the locker area just ahead of Ethen.
“Hey!” she shouted as soon as she was within reach of his retreating back. They were causing a terrible scene and she knew it. All around them, contest scenes were still in play, but people had noticed and some were openly staring. Especially those who’d had to jump out of her way.
Pretending not to hear her, Ethen didn’t stop, not until she shoved between him and another person, getting chocolate on them both, and physically planted herself in the entryway of the dungeon. She was almost a foot shorter than he was, but she was too angry to let him look down on her. And he tried, but for some reason, instead of wilting under that frosty stare, it only made Hadlee that much angrier. Something she was sure he’d decide to punish her further for, just as soon as he got over the fact that she’d smeared chocolate and honey on his coat sleeve.
“You really are a filthy little—” He was going to say beast, but everything changed when she slapped open his coat far enough to grab his cellphone out of the inside pocket. He tried to snatch it back, but she flung the phone out over the crowd. Had it fallen flat or been too light to fly, someone might have gotten hurt. As it was, the phone arched high above everyone’s heads, knocking over two glasses of wine when it hit the nearest member’s table, skittering across the surface into a startled woman’s lap.
“What the hell?” the woman’s date said, jerking back before the spilled drink could wash off the table and into his lap.
“That was my phone,” Ethen told her coldly.
“Use mine,” she replied in kind. “You know, the one you’ve kept now for more than six months, despite the many times I have asked for it back.”
“Except it’s not your phone, it’s mine.”
“I bought it three months before I ever met you!”
“Everything that was yours became mine the minute I collared you. I believe I was very clear about that before you signed the contract detailing the rules and consequences of my ownership.”
“I took your collar off.” Rising frustration made her voice rise too. “You don’t own me anymore!”
“Lower your voice,” he breathed coldly. “I own you until I decide otherwise. You don’t get to take my collar off. Every part of you was then and is now still mine. There will be consequences for your rebellion, Piggy.” His voice lowered, turning silky and seductive despite the Arctic chill of his angry stare. “Oh yes, there will be consequences, because I don’t give up my play things easily. You owe me.”
“I owe you?” That scalding wave of anger turned white hot all over again. It surged to break free and Hadlee shook from the strength of will it took not to let it. “I owe?”
“And I will collect,” Ethen snapped. “Six months of aggravation and disobedience. Six months of doing whatever the hell you wanted, without my consent or approval. Six months of depriving me the use of your body, all the while lusting after other men.”
Her jaw dropped, her eyes narrowed.
“Don’t lie,” he warned. “And don’t think for a second I don’t know you’ve been harboring infidelities. Tonight has only proved it. You owe me,” he said again, dark promise alive in every cruel, hard line of him. “You’d better believe I intend to collect.”
“Well hell,” Hadlee seethed, slapping her hands through her hair and down her body, gathering slicks of chocolate, peanut butter, smashed fruit and sprinkles. “Have some of this!”
Ethen crashed backwards into Garreth first, and then into two men standing near the wall where they could watch the other scene’s still in progress. The unsuspecting members jumped to get away from her, but she got her arms around Ethen. She smeared his face and hair, wriggling and grinding to transfer as much of what was on her to him as she could before he wedged both arms between them and finally flung her off.
Garreth was calling for security as she fell backwards. She grabbed the wall behind her, but lost her balance anyway. Pain shot through her ankle as she landed flat on her butt on the floor. That hurt too, but it was a pain instantly salved by the way Garreth grabbed Ethen. She yanked back to keep from being stepped on as he muscled Ethen out of the dungeon. Having heard the commotion, already Danny was pushing through the door that led back through the security area where electronics were stored. Taking in the situation, he grabbed Ethen too and together, he and Garreth escorted him from the building.
Hadlee didn’t see Jaxson coming until he shoved through the crowd of onlookers. He glared at everyone, including her. “I’m going to say this one more time and I hope everyone else is listening,” he told them, softly so as not to attract any more attention than she already had. “No phones are allowed in this area of Black Light, not tonight or any other. Violators will be banned for life.”
Hadlee barely heard him past the rasp of her own ragged breathing. Her ears were ringing she was so angry. Her ankle was throbbing, so was her ass where she’d landed. She tried to pick herself up, but her legs had no stability. Raising her hands, Hadlee looked at them. They were shaking, violently, and she could not make them stop. That was when she realized, it wasn’t just her hands. All the rest of her was shaking too.
She wasn’t just angry, she was having a panic attack.
Chapter 7
“Deep breaths,” someone was telling her. She actually had to turn and look at him before she recognized Noah’s concerned face. He was using both his hand and his breathing in an attempt to get her to calm her own. “Slow it down, luv,” he said, and then turned to someone beyond her sight. “Get Garreth.”
“He’s throwing Ethen out,” a woman hesitantly replied.
“Get him now,” Noah snapped, cracking that order as effectively as any whip.
Hadlee had no clue who ran off to obey. Sitting where she’d fallen, naked and covered in
sundae toppings that only grew stickier as they dried, she reached up the wall in search of anything to help her get her feet back under her.
“You just wait right here,” Noah said, but she was so mortified. The last thing she wanted was for Garreth to come back from dealing with her mess, only to find her like this. An even bigger mess. Sooner or later, he was going to get sick of following her around all day, just… fixing her.
The taste of honey and sprinkles was in her mouth. Every breath she took was tainted with chocolate, and she’d left a big smear of it all over the walls and the floor where she’d fallen. And especially on Noah’s arm, where she was gripping with all the strength she needed just to hold herself together. She wasn’t going to freak out. Not here in front of everybody. Deep breaths. She wished Garreth was here. She wished he was holding her. Deep breaths, she told herself again, fighting back the tears. Get the fuck over it.
“Okay, fine,” Noah said, resigning himself to her stubbornness. But already he was looking around, snapping his fingers at someone—a wordless command for them to hand him their chair—but Hadlee was done making messes. She was done being stared at by all these people. By Jaxson, the weight of whose heavy disapproval was now tempered with concern. That concern made her feel even worse. She didn’t know either of the club’s owners very well, not like she knew Garreth, or Danny who manned the security desk, or even Klara who ran the bar, but she had thrown a phone—something that never should have been there to begin with—through his club. She’d nearly hit another member. Jaxson would absolutely want to talk to her about that, and she didn’t think she could bear it. Not right now.
Noah was signaling to him, trying to bring him closer, and that panicked her even more. Because his attention was diverted, he wasn’t quick enough to react when Hadlee shoved away from him. Leaving wouldn’t solve anything. Oh sure, she could avoid Chase and Jaxson for a while, but it only delayed the inevitable. At some point tomorrow, her phone was going to ring and it would be one of them on the other end, no doubt with a pen in his hand and a notepad in his lap, all settled in for a nice long interrogation on what had caused this disturbance. She couldn’t just not tell him, not when he had the power to revoke her membership. And what if he asked questions about more than just tonight? What if she ended up telling him everything—about Ethen and Piggy-girl, and the mud wallow and the night Garreth drove out to pick her up?
God, she didn’t want to have that conversation, either.
She heard her name called just before she ducked through the door, but she didn’t stop. Neither could she go more than a few steps before she flattened herself to the wall. She caught her shaky breath. She tried to be normal, unafraid, unashamed. Her knees wobbled, but already the sounds in the dungeon proper were returning to normal. Conversations that had nothing to do with the commotion she had caused were resuming. Action at the occupied stations were picking up. She could hear the snap of a cane, the crackling hum of a violet wand and the groaning mix of pleasure and pain mingled with a multitude of submissives’ moans and sharper cries. Suddenly, the door opened and she saw them, her sisters in the menagerie, following in a delayed pursuit of their master’s less than dignified exit.
Puppy had never liked her, so Hadlee expected the sour glare she received as the other stalked past her. Pony actually stamped at her. Hadlee narrowly jumped in time to avoid getting her toes stomped under the iron horseshoe cobbled to the bottom of Pony’s custom-made high heels. Kitty didn’t look at her at all. Although not unexpected, that stung a little. Throughout her brief time with Ethen, Kitty had been both a friend and a sympathetic shoulder. But, of course, she couldn’t be that now. She couldn’t afford to be seen looking in Hadlee’s direction or even acknowledging her existence. Not with Puppy and Pony there to carry the tale back to Ethen. Oh no, Kitty knew what she risked. She was a survivor. She was also every bit as claustrophobic as Hadlee disliked dirt and Ethen knew it, which was why bad little Piggies were punished in the mud wallow and bad little Kitties were locked in their cage.
Forcing her gaze to the floor, Hadlee looked away until they were gone, back out of the locker room. She couldn’t do anything to help them, anyway. Two of them didn’t want help and, when it all boiled down, Hadlee hadn’t done very well even at helping herself.
Or had she? She had escaped Ethen. She wasn’t free of him, but whose fault was that? Ethen’s, absolutely, but how much blame did she also bear because after six full months she still hadn’t done anything to hold him accountable for what he’d done?
She’d abandoned her cellphone rather than go to the police. She could have filed a report, but oh the questions that would have raised. About her lifestyle and her choices, the fact that she’d gone to him in the first place, and all the looks she was so sure the authorities would give her, because—as her mother used to say—if you don’t want that sort of thing happening to you, don’t set yourself up for it in the first place. And mom was always right, right?
She felt so stupid. Even now, six months later, and she’d felt every bit as dumb back then without having to endure all the side-eyed looks, the knowing nods and under-the-breath comments. So yes, she could have gone to the police and asked for an escort to get her stuff back, but she hadn’t. And because she hadn’t, what had she done but re-enforced for Ethen that he could do whatever he wanted, because she was too damned cowardly to fight back.
Her face was burning. So was her ankle. Tears stung her eyes so badly, she could barely see and because of that, instead of the women’s locker room, Hadlee found she’d walked into the wrong showers. She was in the co-ed locker room instead. Was she the first submissive to finish the challenge? She honestly didn’t know, but the room was void of people. All except her, the walking sundae, and Chad, the dungeon monitor stationed at the towels just outside the showers.
“Oh wow,” he said, when he saw her. He grinned. “Someone sure had some fun.” She started to reach for a towel, but he stopped her with a laugh. “Please, just go on in. I’ll bring you one once you’re in the shower. I promise, I will avert my eyes.”
The way he was holding onto that top towel was almost offensive. But then Hadlee saw her own hand. The towels were white, but they wouldn’t be after she touched them.
“Oh. Right.” She tried to match his smile so he wouldn’t think anything was wrong. Stationed this far away from the rest of the action, there was a chance he didn’t yet know about her altercation near the exit. It was a slim chance. Sound carried in this place, even when it was as packed as it was tonight. Even now, she could hear the echoing slaps of a spanking, the low murmur of conversation, and the clinking of glasses over by the bar.
His grin fading, Chad ducked his head, peering at her through the sundae-ed strands of her filthy hair. “Are you okay? What happened?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.” She smiled harder, but her voice had a tone and it wasn’t projecting the happy notes of a well-satisfied submissive. “I’m just tired.”
His brows beetled in a mix of curiosity and concern, but Chad only opened the door so she wouldn’t have to touch that either. “Take your time.”
She left chocolate and sprinkle-dotted footprints on the white tiles from the door all the way back to the showers. She didn’t know who the Black Light janitors were, but whoever was stuck cleaning this up would be cursing her name long after everyone else left tonight.
With its array of lockers, harsh florescent lighting and the half-wall that segregated the showers in the middle of the room from everything else, the shower room at Black Light had always reminded her of high school gym. The only real difference was in addition to the common shower, with multiple faucets and drains where ten or more people could soap up, there was also a series of semi-private stalls. The walls only went shoulder high, so it didn’t qualify as individual showers, but it did afford couples who wanted to make use of Black Light’s facilities with a bit of privacy.
A trail of footprints in her wake, Hadlee picked a stall and
let herself in. The spray started off cold as hell, but Hadlee stuck her head under it anyway and endured because getting out would only have left a bigger mess. Besides, even as she sucked that first startled breath, already the temperature was shifting. Heat ebbed into the flow, turning the cold lukewarm and cutting through her sticky coating to fill the bottom of the shower with the most disgusting runoff imaginable.
She had crushed strawberries and pineapple in her hair and bits of broken peanut in her belly button. Making only the most cursory attempt to scrub herself down, she dislodged sprinkles from out of her ears and the crack of her ass, and even from all the nooks and crannies between her toes. Halfway through her first soap-up, her eyes began to sting, then burn, and then tear up until everything blurred together and she couldn’t even see the grouted cracks between the tiles. It didn’t matter. Even blurred out, the water sluicing off her was still a nasty brown, punctuated with bits of fruit and what nut chunks got caught in the drain screen. Black Light was nothing if not prepared.
Dropping to her knees, Hadlee made a token attempt to clean the crap off the screen, then just slumped there. She covered her eyes, then her mouth, because her lips were peeling back from her teeth and no matter how tightly she gritted them, she knew it wouldn’t be enough to bite back the high-pitched keening already rising up in the back of her throat. Someday, she’d be able to walk away from a run-in with Ethen without falling into the bottom of the shower afterwards. Someday, she wasn’t going to be this much of a rocking, crying, pathetic mess.
She sucked a shaky breath, choking back the sobs she refused to give in to until she noticed a pair of feet standing on the other side of her partial door. They were black shoes, shiny and splattered in chocolate, and they led to black jeans, as opposed to the leather pants most doms liked to wear on party nights.
Sniffling, she reached out far enough to crack the stall door. She saw the towel first and the drops of drying chocolate and honey that splattered down the arm and hand that held it. Pushing the door open further, she let her gaze travel up the dirty black shirt that made up the standard party uniform of a Black Light dungeon monitor, and finally settled on Garreth’s face. His expression was closed, he didn’t smile.
