“Everything all right?” Anthony looks me up and down, seemingly assessing me.
“Everything’s fine,” June says. She reaches into a drawer and pulls out her wristlet and keys, and then she turns back to us. “I just need to deal with a minor personal problem.”
Anthony leans in and whispers something to June. Instantly, her entire body relaxes.
“Thank you,” she says. She kisses Macie on the cheek, and then she leads me out of the dungeon and down a narrow side hallway.
Everything in Anchored is small and narrow. This is because before June bought the mini cruise ship, it was literally a cruise ship. Things are tight and constricted because, well, the designers tried to fit as much as possible into a small space. They did a great job, and June has done an even better job redesigning the little boat into an incredible sex club where people of all ages, backgrounds, and lifestyles can come to relax, unwind, and have fun.
It’s perfect.
She opens the door to her office and enters before me. Then June heads to the table beside her desk and pours herself a good ol’ glass of whiskey. I rarely see June drink, and something tells me she’s not playing around now.
“Sit,” she says, and I sit. Not for the first time, I sense a hit of Domme in June. I call her a sub all the time, and she always denies it, but the truth is that she’s not just a sub. She never could be. Not June. No, she’s a switch if I ever saw one, but that’s for her to discover.
There’s a reason June never plays at Anchored.
Ever.
She always says it’s because she’s just the bartender, that it’s just not her scene, that she’s never been into the lifestyle, but the people who believe that lie are the ones who don’t know June designed Anchored. She created it from the ground up. She poured her heart, sole, and finances into making this an incredible play space.
I follow her lead and sit in front of her desk, and then I do what a Dom does best: I wait. I wait as she paces for a minute. I wait as she slams down her whiskey. I wait as she finally collapses at her desk and looks up at me.
“I don’t know what I should tell you,” she says finally, and suddenly, June looks very, very tired.
“Is it about Piper?”
“Yes.”
“Then you should tell me everything.”
“Does she know you used to be a cop?”
“No.”
“She doesn’t like cops, Maddox.” June runs a hand through her soft, dark hair. She’s beautiful, really. June and I have never had that sort of relationship. We’ve never slept together. We’ve never kissed. We’ve flirted like mad because it’s fun, and Anchored is all about having a good time, but June and I would never happen. Still, I can appreciate how damn gorgeous she is, and I wish she realized just how fantastic of a person she really is.
“Why doesn’t she like cops, June?”
“She says they let her down,” June narrows her eyes at me, and I get what she’s saying.
As I suspected, Piper was abused.
It’s a strange thing, abuse. People want you to run to the cops, but then when you do, sometimes there’s nothing that can be done. Maybe there’s not enough evidence or maybe the asshole has an alibi. Maybe he does go to jail, for a little while, and then he’s released and the entire cycle begins again.
No matter how good of a cop someone is, they can’t be everywhere at once. I can’t save every batter
ed woman who comes through the doors. I can’t protect every person. No matter how hard I fight, how hard I try, how hard I believe, I can’t save them all, and it was that realization that prompted me to leave the force.
I haven’t looked back.
“I’m not a cop anymore, June, and I won’t let her down.”
“I know, but there’s something you need to know if you really want Piper.”
“Tell me.”
June leans back in her seat. “Piper is fantastic.”