The Shepherd (The Game 6)

On the other hand, being down here, I was forced to witness a bunch of couples and triads getting cozy in the seating areas. Whether they cocooned themselves in invisible bubbles of aftercare or they laughed and drank with friends, I could barely bear the sight. An envy I’d managed to keep a lid on for so fucking long was threatening to take over, and it pissed me off. Was I really turning this night into a goddamn pity party?

Sloan should come and hug me.

I rubbed the back of my neck, wondering what he was up to. The kids were asleep by now, except for Jason. He was probably playing that game he was obsessed with—Fortnite or something. By day, he shared a bedroom with Jamie, but at night, Jason had his privacy when his little brother slept in the other bedroom with Emma-Jo and Loki. Sloan slept on the couch in the living room, where I could imagine he was fighting sleep right now. Maybe watching some shitty true crime documentary. And eating leftovers.

My chest felt tight whenever I imagined him eating what the kids hadn’t finished. I’d seen it once or twice.

Fucking hell, I just wanted to take care of him. Help him. He always put himself last, and I got it; of course, the kids came first, but—

“Hey!” Ivy’s happy shout over the music brought me back, and I cleared my throat and forced a smile on my face. “How’s it going down here?”

I shot her a wry, sideways smirk and scanned the crowd of dancers. She knew very well there wasn’t anything to report. And seeing as I hadn’t gotten a visit from Penelope in a while, I assumed they got all the action upstairs, not least of which from members who’d been drinking.

We were equal parts relaxed and alert when it came to drinking and playing. Basically, do what you want until a DM determined the risks were too great. Play all you want, but expect an audience. I’d had plenty of fantastic playtime while being a little bit tipsy, though I wouldn’t engage in anything high-risk.

I’d heard of—and participated in—events hosted by communities that had everything from a zero-alcohol policy to a two-drink limit. To each their own, but they’d clearly never had the pleasure of interrogating a giggling maso who’d had three gin and tonics.

At our place, members could add a few drinks to their sensation play and know someone was keeping an eye on them.

I spotted Nathan near the edge of the dancing crowd; his play partner was trying to drag him into the center of the mob, which wasn’t going very well. Nathan was busy talking to a few others. I’d get my turn later. If we were gonna host a Game about cutting off senses, it was a good idea to talk to the man who’d studied Japanese rope bondage for decades. He was the unofficial spokesperson for our bondage community.

He laughed at something and clapped the back of whoever was next to him. He was introducing someone to another couple, and how they managed with the music blaring was beyond me.

Right before I was about to move on and shift my gaze, the man next to Nathan positioned himself so I could see his face, and I did a double take at him. Jesus Christ, he looked exactly like someone I’d once hoped to get to know better. He even had the same crooked grin.

I frowned and started feeling restless. The flashing lights fucked with my vision.

I had a sinking feeling my brain was trying to tell me something. All of a sudden, tension slammed into me and turned me into a rigid wall. It wasn’t him—I knew that. It couldn’t be. And I didn’t believe in coincidence, not to that degree. It was all too unbelievable. Yet, when the orange lights traveled over him and shone a beacon on his face, all doubts flew out the window.

My heart started beating faster.

How the fuck— I swallowed hard and scrubbed a hand over my mouth and jaw.

Archie.

He shook hands with someone, then laughed at whatever Nathan told him.

I didn’t need to shut off the music to hear his laugh. I remembered it vividly.

I remembered those dimples too.

Someone tugged at my arm—Ivy. Fuck. She was still next to me.

Without tearing my stare from that motherfucker standing by Nathan, I dipped down so Ivy could say whatever she wanted to say.

“You look like you just saw a ghost!” she hollered over the fast beat.

Ghost. Apt description. A ghost from my past.

Then Ivy was going to be Ivy. She nudged at me and pointed toward the patio, because she wanted information. I wasn’t planning on providing a lot, but an escape sounded excellent. Even more so when I noticed Archie looking up and glancing around—almost as if he was searching for someone.