Walk For Me: Club Avalon Book 4

by Kay Elle Parker

  Well actually, given her former social calendar, it probably did.

  They’d had pizza for dinner, watched another episode of Grey’s, then she’d dutifully showered—all by herself—before Atticus had snuggled her into bed, his hand sliding up her thigh to tease her clean pussy. He’d even gotten his finger in further than he had that morning before she resisted.

  One long kiss, then he’d gone back to work for a couple of hours.

  She hadn’t stayed in bed for long, dragging herself into her chair and sneaking down the hall to her room. It had taken a little searching, but she’d found the phone and its charger that Connie had given her months ago, and taken it back to bed with her.

  Plugging it in, it didn’t take long before it had enough charge to start up, and Alicia had opened up the reading app Connie had installed. The books were all children’s books, very simplistic and right at Lisha’s current reading level.

  She’d struggled to read two of them before her vision blurred and her brain burned with concentration. It came as a surprise, however, that she was enjoying the process of learning. It was fascinating to her how the words built a picture in her head, even though she struggled with some of them.

  Now, a few hours after Daddy had slipped into bed beside her, his breathing slow and even, she was wide awake and waiting for the guillotine blade to slice down on her neck. Something big and horrible was coming.

  When Atticus’ phone beeped quietly, he grunted and rolled onto his side. Muttering under his breath, he silenced the beeping and sighed as though he was facing the world’s biggest punishment. Maybe he could feel the blade hovering over his neck, too.

  “Showtime,” he grumbled, then turned over to face her.

  Playing dead wasn’t an uncommon action for her. It hadn’t taken her long to perfect it, although it had never worked on her father. Or on Elliot, for that matter. But the skill, the muscle memory, kicked straight into the performance of a lifetime.

  Eyes closed, but not screwed up tight. Face slack, quietly relaxed with no tension lines. Head slightly wobbly on her neck, body sinking into the mattress. Breathing slow, gentle, not too fast or slow.

  It was so hard not to react when Atticus’s hand rested gently on her stomach.

  “Daddy has to go to work, princess.” That voice she loved was regretful, whisper-quiet. “I won’t be here when you wake up, but you won’t be alone. Anarchy’s going to be taking care of you until I get back. Be on your best behavior, okay?” He paused, and she felt the slightest pressure from his fingers through the thin covers. “I love you, precious girl. You make doing my job so much easier knowing I have you to come home to afterwards.”

  Her training faltered for a split second. Her eyes almost popped open, and she knew her muscles twitched at his declaration. She swore she felt the warmth of his love hitting her heart and spreading through every inch of her, carried by the veins full to bursting with acceptance.

  She almost said those three little words back to him.

  “I have to go, princess, we’re on a tight schedule this morning. Behave yourself.” His beard tickled her skin first, then his lips brushed over her cheek, her mouth. A moment later, he eased away, and the bed shifted under his weight.

  Alicia listened to the sounds of him getting ready in the bathroom—a quick shower no more than a couple of minutes long, brushing his teeth, talking to himself quietly. She hugged herself fiercely, keeping her joy contained inside her. This memory was one she would treasure forever and ever.

  When the bathroom light clicked off, she resumed her former position before Atticus came back into the bedroom. He dressed quickly, far too efficiently, in the weak glow of the nightlight. It reaffirmed her theory that he had x-ray vision, although now she upgraded that to night vision as well.

  She sensed him walk around to her side of the bed. He bent and picked something up, then lifted the covers and tucked Mr. Bear into the crook of her arm. “He’ll look after you, princess.” Another brief kiss, and he was gone like a ghost, leaving the bedroom door open a crack and letting the hallway light spill in.

  Daddy loved her. It was ridiculous and amazing, terrifying and phenomenal all at the same time. No one had ever loved her, let alone told her the words. Well, maybe Bodie had, before what their parents had done to her had soured any kind of emotion toward their entire bloodline—they’d blamed Bodie for Alicia’s stupidity, even though it had been Bodie who’d saved her by shoving her from in front of the bus.

  Was that why they’d blamed her? Because Bodie had saved her life and given them a cripple instead of letting her die plastered on the front of public transportation?

  Who knew? They had their reasons for doing everything they did, and nothing made sense except the fact they’d thrived on breaking the law, taking it into their own hands, and twisting it to suit themselves.

  Perfectly made for each other; a blight on the rest of humanity.

  What was Atticus’ family like? After living with him, she couldn’t imagine them being anything but strong and supportive, just like him. A little strict, a lot nurturing, with a scary touch of badass thrown in for good measure.

  Daddy loved her.

  She squeezed the stuffing out of Mr. Bear, expressing her delight silently.

  Best day of her life.

  “We ready to roll out, Att?”

  “Yeah. Archie, thanks for doing this, little bit. Lisha’s asleep in my bed, you shouldn’t hear a peep out of her until morning. There’s a baby monitor set up so you can hear her in case she has a nightmare, hooked up to the spare room. Feel free to crash in there, the bed’s made up with fresh sheets. Help yourself to whatever you need. I’ve left a list of Alicia’s routine on the fridge for you.”

  “Jesus, Atticus, don’t worry about us. We’ll be just fine having a girlie day. Go kick some ass and come back to us in one piece, okay? No heroics from either of you. That goes for you, too, Jasper.”

  “Don’t leave the house. Keep your eyes on the security feed. If you see something you don’t like, get down into the panic room and stay there until we come for you.”

  “I know the drill. Go, and be safe.”

  The voices lowered to soft murmurs, and Alicia could only assume Anarchy was sending her lover off with kisses. Yes, there was a touch of jealousy snaking through her happy high. She didn’t know where the men were going, or why they couldn’t be heroic, but she wished she could be out there in the hallway, her hands on Atticus’ bearded face, telling her Daddy she loved him and to be careful.

  She didn’t hear them leave, couldn’t say the exact moment they left the house, but she heard the quiet footsteps approaching the bedroom door and resumed playing possum. Through slitted eyelids, she watched the small blonde woman she’d met—and liked despite herself and her jealousy—push open the door a fraction and peek her head in.

  As though satisfied Alicia was sleeping undisturbed, Anarchy retreated.

  The hallway light remained on.

  Everything went quiet.

  For an hour, she couldn’t sleep. She tried to read, then got frustrated when her thoughts veered away from the print on the screen. She amused herself, playing with Mr. Bear and talking to him in a low voice until he gave her a look that told her to stop being silly and go to sleep. Counting imaginary sheep didn’t work.

  Finally, she gave into curiosity and wiggled herself into her chair, leaving Mr. Bear to keep the bed warm. She maneuvered herself carefully through the bedroom and out into the hall, rolling down to the bedroom where she’d been sleeping for the last week.

  The door was wide open, light casting over the bed.

  Alicia went in, steering the chair to the side of the bed where Anarchy was sleeping. Engaging the brakes, she sat there, staring at the other woman. The woman Atticus had promised to sleep with at the same time as her lover.

  The competition.

  No, that wasn’t true, she reminded herself as she folded her arms over her chest. Daddy didn’t love A
narchy, because she belonged to the man who needed pain, just like her. This horrible feeling of being lesser was unfounded really, and Alicia couldn’t find anything repulsive about the woman.

  She stared, and she assessed, and she worked hard to puzzle out where the animosity inside her stemmed from and how to switch it off. Jealousy and insecurity, maybe a big dollop of fear to round the mixture off into a smooth, toxic blend.

  “If you’re going to stare at me all night, you might as well get into bed, Alicia. You’d be a lot more comfortable.” Anarchy’s voice was lightly slurred with sleep. “I can feel your eyes burning a hole through my forehead. There’s plenty of room here if you don’t want to sleep alone.”

  Alicia lifted her chin defiantly. “Did you fuck my Daddy?”

  “Huh? Um…no, at a guess. Do I know your Daddy?”

  Oh, she wanted to play games, did she? “Not my father, my Daddy. Atticus.”

  “This is a strange conversation for this time of the morning.” Anarchy sighed and pushed herself up into a sitting position, rubbing her eyes as she switched on the lamp and blinded them both briefly. “Alicia, let’s get this straightened out so we can be friends, okay? I have no designs on Atticus. I’m engaged to a wonderful man, and we are happy. Atticus is my boss and my friend, and that’s as far as it goes.”

  “But you were going to.”

  “Is this why you were so quiet yesterday?”

  Eyes narrowed, Lisha regarded the woman suspiciously. Why didn’t she look flustered or uncomfortable at being interrogated? Now she wished she’d brought Mr. Bear with her for intimidation’s sake. One look in those hardcore black eyes, and Anarchy would have no choice but to tell the truth. “I don’t know if I like you.”

  “Okay, that’s succinct.”

  “It’s what?”

  “Succinct. Um, it means to the point, concise, blunt.” Anarchy’s eyebrows lifted. “Basically, it’s a fancy way of saying ouch, that hurt.”

  “Oh.” Should she apologize? Guilt patted her on the head as she tried to justify causing someone pain and healing some of the wounds still oozing in her heart. “Am I supposed to say I’m sorry for telling the truth?”

  “No. If it’s your truth, then you own it. I’m just confused, that’s all. The first time I met you—your second after hours visit to Avalon, remember—I seem to recall we got on okay. You were quiet, shy I think, and didn’t want to be part of the group, which we all understood.” Anarchy gave her head a shake as though clearing sleep cobwebs from her brain. “Why do you think I was going to sleep with Atticus?”

  “Not sleep with. Fuck. Because he told me that he was going to the sex club last night to have sex with you and the white-haired man—” Shit, she was getting upset again, and his name eluded her. “The sadist. And I don’t know why you would do that!”

  “I’m sorry, what? They had it all planned for last night?” Anarchy swallowed and almost looked sick. “That rat bastard. No wonder he’s been so cagey and secretive this last week.” She scowled, then rolled her eyes. “Trust Atticus to lay it all out. I swear that man has no lie button. Look, the whole threesome scene is a fantasy. Jasper was working magic with his words one night and conjured up this image of me being taken by two guys. It’s sexy and arousing as much as it is scary, but that’s what makes it appealing. Especially when Atticus agreed to help us act it out.”

  Alicia wasn’t sure she wanted the details of what her Daddy had agreed to do. “Why would you want them to hurt you that way? Is it because you’re a markist?” Crap, that was wrong. It wasn’t markist. What the hell had Daddy called her?

  “Um…not entirely sure what a markist is, but I think you mean masochist? I like pain, Alicia, love it in the right quantities. Jasper’s an expert at taking me right up to the edge of agony where I want to die, then just pushing me off into subspace with a kiss.” Her eyes grew dreamy and distant. “That man is a God with an impact toy in his hand.”

  “Subspace? Is that what they call sex pain?”

  “Sex pain? Sweetheart, you’ve lost me.” Concerned, Anarchy’s gaze swept down Alicia’s body, then back up to meet her eyes. “Would you please get in the damn bed? I can see you shaking from here, and if anything happens to you, Atticus will tell Jasper to stick something so far up my ass, I’ll be able to taste it. None of us want that, right? Well, aside from the sadist,” she muttered to herself. “He’d love to do just that.”

  “He puts things in your butt?” Alicia rolled back a few inches, as though the sadist was about to pop out from under the covers and try it with her. “And you let him?”

  “Ah, shit. I’m telling you things you don’t know, aren’t I? Oh boy, I’m in so much trouble.” She sighed and scratched the side of her nose. “Let’s go back to the sex pain so you can explain that to me. We might as well jump all the way into the shit, now we’ve dabbled in it.”

  Sex pain was nothing compared to the notion of having something pushed up her ass, Alicia thought. Elliot had liked to take temperatures that way—she still didn’t believe his claims that fingers could be used as thermometers…she should ask Daddy about that. “I think I’ll go back to bed now.”

  “Yeah, that’s not happening. Come on, get in here and we’ll try to fix this.”

  “I still don’t know if I like you.”

  Anarchy laughed and patted the mattress beside her. “Yeah, you do. By the time we figure out what’s going on in your head, we’ll be best friends chugging back wine and prank calling Connie.”

  Reluctantly, Alicia backed the wheelchair up and pushed herself around to the other side of the bed. Brakes on, she heaved herself onto the bare mattress exposed by the covers Anarchy tossed back. She arranged her legs, startled by the sharp twinges she could feel in her calves.

  “Okay. This is good, we’re both comfy.” Anarchy shifted so she sat at a twisted angle. “Tell me about the sex pain, Alicia.”

  Ugh, why did she have to explain something that was surely common knowledge? It was humiliating, and the heat in her cheeks reflected it. “Does it happen to you, too?”

  “If it’s what I think it is, no, sweetheart.”

  Alicia chewed on her thumb. “It doesn’t hurt when Jasper touches you? When he uses his fingers and his cock in you?”

  “Not unless he wants it to. He always makes me feel good when he touches me, and unless I’m being punished, he’s quite generous with the orgasms. Is Atticus hurting you? I know he’s a big guy, and if you’re not used to his size, he’s difficult to take at first.”

  “How would you know that?”

  Anarchy winced, then shrugged. “A while ago, long before you were in the picture, Jasper and I weren’t officially together. I was drowning in love with him, had been for months, but there were events in his past that made him believe he didn’t deserve to have anyone. So he gave me to Atticus because he’s the one who picks up broken pieces and puts them back together again. We had a moment, sex was almost on the cards, and I…I realized that what I felt for Jasper eclipsed everything else. Whether he wanted me or not, I couldn’t be with another man, even one he chose for me. It was like cheating, and I hated it.”

  Not as much as Alicia was hating this conversation. The men at the sex club gave the women away to other men, just like that? Even when the women loved them? Is that what was in store for her, being passed off to the next guy when Atticus got bored of her?

  God, the cycle never ended, did it?

  “That’s what happens at the club?” Alicia asked quietly, dreading the answer. “You fall in love with a guy, and he hands you over to someone else to fuck if he doesn’t want you? Does he supply a collar and leash as a matter of courtesy? Vaccination documents?”

  “Whoa. I think I totally put that in the wrong light, Alicia. I didn’t mean it like that, not at all. Subs aren’t pets to the Dominants, and the Masters definitely don’t see us that way. Well, unless you’re into pet play, then yeah, collars and leashes are basic attire.” Anarchy bit her lip. “I’
m saying far too much about stuff you don’t know. When the Masters play with club subs, it’s casual. A learning experience, testing limits, having fun with an entity that is so much more than just a man. When they find their one—the one—those guys don’t play around, sweetheart. They’ll raze the earth to ash and burn down the skies to keep her. We do the same for them,” she said, her expression changing into something Alicia couldn’t decipher. “The love we feel for our Doms supersedes everything. We become more with them.”

  “But Jasper gave you away.”

  “Fuck, don’t remind me.” She rubbed her hand over her heart, shifting uncomfortably. “At the time, he crushed me. Reached inside me, took my heart and soul in his fist, and yanked both of them out. I was devastated. I couldn’t understand what I’d done wrong, why he was punishing me like that. Atticus wasn’t who I was in love with, but Jasper believed I’d be safer loving Atticus rather than a man like him. Love doesn’t transfer that way. Jasper was—is—the only man I’ll love in my lifetime, Alicia. A threesome with another man is a fantasy I want to try, but not at the risk of destroying Atticus’ future with the woman he loves.”

  Okay, she could accept that. It was easier to understand it, listening to it from Anarchy’s point of view. The jealousy seething in her veins ebbed away.

  “But we’ve traipsed off the path into a different subject,” Anarchy continued, running a hand through her hair and stifling a yawn. “I believe we were talking about sex, specifically between you and the mountain man. If he’s hurting you, you have to tell him.”

  “We haven’t had sex,” Alicia mumbled.

  “Okay…I’ll go out on a limb here and guess he won’t be your first, then?”

  How much did she dare tell her? Daddy was the only one who knew about Abraham and Elliot, and he hadn’t judged her. He’d been angry on her behalf, but not at her.

  But this woman was an unknown quantity. There was the potential for friendship, one that could be ruined in a heartbeat if Alicia spilled too many sordid details about her past. Connie and Atticus spoke highly of her, which alleviated some of her concern, but not all of it.