Page 15

A minute later, Chantelle slipped into the lounge, something she hardly ever did, and skirted around the room toward me. She scanned the sexual smorgasbord and chatting members, calculating in her perusal as always.
She stood a few paces behind Becky for a while, her gaze resting on Stephen as he enjoyed an exhibitionist take a paddle to his submissive. While Stephen stroked himself through his cheap leather pants, Becky turned her head away from the scene.
I moved around the perimeter of the room, closing the distance between us. Stephen’s eyes gleamed as he watched the Dom redden his sub’s ass. He had that glint my dad always got right before he went on a beating spree.
Chantelle caught my attention with a small wave, instantly making me tug on the reins of my anger. She motioned me toward the reception area with an incline of her head.
I went where she’d suggested, but my gaze lingered on Becky until I was forced to turn and leave the lounge behind.
The double door leading into the entryway shut behind me, and I followed Chantelle into her office. “Have a seat,” she said. While usually a master of hiding her feeling, her eyes blazed with the same emotion boiling my insides.
“Care to tell me what the hell is going on?” I scowled while settling onto the leather chair.
“Becky is my cousin—”
“Shit.”
“—and I set up tonight because I wanted you to meet her.”
I glowered, hating the thought that I’d been manipulated. Toyed with. Used for someone else’s benefit. I’d had enough of that shit when I’d lived on Boston’s streets when I’d first arrived. “Why?” I bit out the word.
“Because physically she’s your kind of woman, the perfect submissive for you, and you’re all too familiar with what she’s living with right now.”
The muscle in my jaw ticked even though her explanation was a hell of a lot better than I’d expected.
“I’m also sure she stays with Stephen out of insecurity. Showing her she’s beautiful and desired beyond him is the only thing that is going to set her free.”
I forced my body to relax and exhaled slowly, trying to get hold of myself. “How bad is it?”
“Bad.” Chantelle stared at me, still frowning. “Last I spoke with her a few months ago, she told me Stephen forbade her to see anyone outside of home and work. She also said that Stephen doesn’t apologize or plead for forgiveness anymore when he hurts her.”
“Fucking cocksucker.” I swore a few more times, my hands fisting on my thighs. “Have you seen any of the videos Stephen brags about?”
“Yes, but I suggest you don’t go looking for them.”
I raised a brow.
“You’ll go into a murderous rage and wind up in jail if you watch a single one.”
“Fuck.” I scrubbed a hand over my face, growling under my breath. She didn’t know I’d experienced the first part of her prophecy once already.
“I need you to do next Friday’s class.”
“No fucking way.” My tone left no room for argument.
“I’ll pay you double for helping Becky.” Chantelle pleading—never thought I’d see the day. And I knew why she’d tacked on her cousin’s name. Doing so would bring her to my mind’s eye. It would also tug on my protective nature for all persons and animals surviving abuse.
I hesitated, although I wanted to reiterate my previous answer. Fuck me, I really yearned to do what Chantelle said, but I told myself I wouldn’t get involved. I had zero capacity for inserting myself between a couple that had been together for twelve years, especially when Becky turned me on the way she did.
Playing Chantelle’s game would bring nothing but trouble.
And I wouldn’t have my innocent age to keep me from that second part of her prophecy.
“You could easily send Stephen over the edge,” Chantelle continued when I didn’t reply, “make his true colors shine, and open Becky’s eyes to the tyrant she’s been living beneath since high school.”
“And how the fuck am I supposed to do that when she is already uncomfortable in this environment?”
“She clearly enjoyed your ropes and touch.”