“Right. So. What…how did you get back?”
“The same as you, I suppose. When we’re ready. When we’re done.”
When we’re done—like turkeys in the oven. And she was okay with it?
“I don’t understand,” I said. “They shouldn’t have…I didn’t want that. I hated it there. You hated it there.”
Her face drew into a small frown, looking tragic and haunted and beautiful. “It’s not about what I like. I want to serve my Master.”
Her makeup was flawless, her up-do classy. The hem of her dress exposed long, shapely legs adorned with leather cuffs. Complete with a placid expression, she was a kinky Stepford wife.
“Um. I gotta go,” I muttered, angry and confused.
“It was great to see you again,” I heard her say before the door swung shut.
I edged around the crowd and pushed out an emergency exit that I knew from my many visits here wouldn’t set off an alarm. The stench of the street was a relief to me. I leaned against the concrete wall, catching my breath. The atmosphere in there had been stifling, Anya’s pushiness unsettling, but that slave was terrifying. Was that supposed to be me?
The door squealed open behind me, and I startled, thinking Anya had followed me. Instead it was the bouncer from the front. “You need to leave,” he said.
I glanced around the small alley. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m going, I promise.”
He shook his head. “Not here. You need to leave the club. The city. It isn’t safe for you here.”
He knows. “How?”
With a shrug, he said, “That’s above my pay grade. You were marked for the program. Then you went away, and now you’re back except…”
“Except what?”
“You’re still you.”
“Just tell me something. Do you know someone named Brendan?”
He gave me a strange look. “Don’t you?”
“I don’t remember,” I whispered. “Please tell me. I can’t remember what I need to know, and it’s killing me.”
There was a long pause, where I knew he was debating the risk to himself.
Finally he said, “Some girls want to be more submissive. Hell, most submissives do. Comes with the mindset.” He shrugged. “Or even if they don’t want it. They go off, get a little training, and come back to their lives here, but now they’re the best subs in the scene. Everyone wants them, but they’re completely devoted to their Dom.”
I choked on the words. “And that happened to me?”
“You were Brendan’s girl, and then you were marked. What do you think?”
“I think I brought this on myself.” My survival instincts told me to run, but a growing horror chained me to the spot. Through everything that had happened, my helplessness had been my treasured safety blanket. Oh, the regular stand-bys of shame and guilt still visited me on occasion, but as long as it was all forced, I could absolve myself them. But if I had ever consented to that… then I was the monster.
I swallowed thickly. “What do I do?”
“Well, that’s the thing. Every girl that’s ever come back is different. To be honest… they seem pretty happy. But not you. I don’t see how they can let you go around, asking questions, stirring up trouble. It’s not going to look good. Something’s gonna have to be done. That’s why I said, you need to leave.” With that he reentered the club, leaving me in the cold.
I walked briskly into the shadows with nowhere to go. The club had turned out to be a snake’s nest; I was lucky to have gotten out alive. I couldn’t go back to my apartment, where Brendan was possibly waiting for me. I couldn’t go back to work tomorrow either and face Anya and my suspicions that she had been involved in my abduction—that she had tried again tonight.
I stood on an unfamiliar street corner and allowed myself to be jostled to and fro. What was I doing here? This wasn’t reclaiming my life. My friends had betrayed me; I felt so alone. This hadn’t been a life at all.
I never should have left Sam, but I could rectify my error. I had to flee somewhere, and the islands had never sounded more appealing. I took out as much cash as I could from an ATM and boarded the first flight south.
Chapter Eleven