Page 67 of Theirs to Desire (Club M: Boxed Set)

MADDOX

W hen my phone rings and I see Xavier’s number on the screen, I contemplate letting it go to voicemail. Not that it’ll do a damn bit of good. If Xavier wants to talk, he’ll call as often as needed to get through.

“What’s up?”

“I had a rather strange phone call this afternoon,” he says. “From Avery Welch.”

All weekend, I’ve been trying not to think of her.

All weekend, I’ve been feeling like a jerk for leaving her alone at the club.

Then I got her email this morning, and I feel even worse.

She never wants to go back to Club M, and I know that’s my fault.

She hurt us ten years ago, and in return, we gave her a shitty introduction to BDSM.

What’s that old saying? An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.

“Really?”

“She asked for a refund of her membership fees.”

I feel like crap. “We should have stayed with her.”

“Undoubtedly,” Xavier says crisply. “But I didn’t phone you to call you an idiot about Saturday. Avery sounded quite distressed when she talked to me, and I got the sense that she really wanted the refund.”

“So give it to her.”

He exhales impatiently. “I could do that. Or,” he says pointedly, “You could call her and find out what’s wrong. Make up for being such a dick. You know, do the right thing.”

Do the right thing. The problem is, with Avery, after all these years, I have no idea what that is.