Seduced By Fire
She didn’t miss the sharp edge of determination in his voice.
A knock on the door caused her to jump, but she stayed in his arms when the nurse entered.
“Time to change the dressing,” she said.
“I don’t suppose I could convince you to leave while they did this?” he asked in a whisper.
“No way. They had me leave last night, but since I’ll be the one changing it for her at home, I need to stay.”
Standing across the bed from them, the nurse gently roused Sasha and repositioned her. With the utmost care, she folded the sheet down, and removed the dressing. Daniel slipped his hand into Julie’s.
Angry red marks crisscrossed Sasha’s back. Many of the lines bled.
“Fucking hell,” Daniel said under his breath.
Julie swayed against him and slid into her chair. It looked even worse than she’d imagined.
“That bad, Jules? You look green,” Sasha said, so clearly trying to be brave.
Much too late she noticed Sasha’s gaze on her. “Sorry, it’s just . . . I didn’t . . .”
“No need to apologize. You didn’t do it and I know it looks bad, I can feel it.” Sasha’s eyes drifted shut and she started breathing slow and deep, though she jerked occasionally. Julie knew she was on a painkiller, and she was glad her friend could sleep through the discomfort of having the dressing changed.
The nurse worked quickly and silently. The entire time, Julie was acutely aware of Daniel’s presence beside her—his power, his strength, his being. And for the first time, that power and strength scared her.
• • •
Sasha was released from the hospital the next day. Julie insisted she stay with her, at least through the weekend. And when Sasha brought up working Monday, Julie told her it was out of the question.
By Sunday, Julie could clean and dress Sasha’s back without breaking into a cold sweat. The sense of fear she’d had in the hospital hadn’t returned. Of course, she hadn’t seen Daniel since Friday either. He’d called a few times, but between caring for Sasha and working out the schedule for how to run the shop alone, she hadn’t been able to see him.
She wasn’t ignoring him, she told herself; she was busy.
And if she put the red bracelet in her top dresser drawer, it was only because she didn’t know when the next meeting would be.
She didn’t quite know how to reach Sasha. Her once happy-go-lucky friend had sunk deep inside herself and refused to be drawn out. She answered questions with a “yes” or “no” and otherwise kept her conversation to as few words as necessary. Dena called on Sunday afternoon, but Sasha refused to talk to her. Instead she told Julie to tell her she was sleeping.
Julie didn’t want to leave her alone on Monday, but she had no choice—the shop had obligations to meet. Someone had to be there. Fortunately, it was a busy day, so she was able to keep her mind occupied with thoughts other than her hurting friend and Daniel.
Her cell phone rang right after she closed the door behind the day’s last customer. She looked at the display and sighed. Eventually, she would have to face the turmoil she was trying to ignore.
“Hey, Daniel.”
“Good to hear your voice, how are you doing?”
“Busy.” She eyed the clock on the wall, trying to judge how long it would take to get home and fix something for her and Sasha to eat. “Doing everything by myself is a bit much, you know?”
“I imagine it is, and once you get home, you’ll be tending Sasha.” His voice dropped. “Who takes care of you?”
She closed her eyes, knowing he probably heard her distancing herself every time they spoke. “I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time.”
He didn’t have to say anything; she could feel his displeasure through the phone. Something deep inside started to hurt.
“I’m sorry,” she finally said. “I’m just so tired.” It wasn’t much of a lie.
“I need to stop by your place tonight and speak to Sasha,” he said.
“We’ll be there. About what time?” She hated the way they were talking, as if there was nothing between them. It just wasn’t possible for her to do anything else at the moment.
“Seven.”
“Okay, I’ll make sure she’s awake. See you then,” she said, and hung up with a softly spoken good-bye.
I’m so sorry, Daniel.
• • •
Daniel hung up the phone with a muttered curse. He was losing her. When Sasha was in the hospital, he’d felt it, although he’d hoped once she was released, it would be better. And maybe it would get better. It hadn’t been that long. He just needed to give her space.
He raked a hand through his hair. Damn Peter and whatever the hell had been going through his mind Thursday night. Even after talking with him, he still wasn’t exactly sure what transpired, but he would get to the bottom of it. He had a meeting set up with him before he needed to head out to talk to Sasha.
Sasha.
He knew it wasn’t his fault and that there was nothing he could have done to prevent it, but he still felt guilty. She was a submissive in his group and he should have protected her. Had he missed some sign in Peter? He’d replayed in his mind all the times he’d seen him with a submissive and nothing stood out as being off.
Even still, whenever he thought of Sasha, he remembered the mass of welts and cuts on her back and it made him sick. As the recognized bullwhip expert in the group, he knew the training and practice its use required. Likewise, he recognized the handiwork of one who didn’t know what he was doing. His only question was how Peter hadn’t ended up in the hospital himself from the whip coming back to hit him.
He both dreaded and looked forward to seeing Julie. But even with all the turmoil he felt about their floundering relationship, he forced himself to focus on his upcoming conversation with Sasha. His heart was heavy when he pulled into Julie’s driveway hours later.
Julie wasn’t smiling when she opened the door. She simply pushed it wide open to let him pass. Sasha sat on the couch, her head down. He knew he was there for her, but he couldn’t ignore Julie.
He cupped her shoulder. “I can only imagine what you’re thinking and feeling, but don’t shut me out. Please.”
There was a particular sadness in her reply. “I’ll try.”
It was the best he could hope for.
Sasha stood up as he walked into the living room. “Ma- Ma-Master Covington.”
He flinched and waved to the couch. “Please. Have a seat and call me Daniel.”
“Can Julie stay?”
Typically, he liked to have a third person present for conversations like the one to come. However, he’d be lying to say he thought it a good idea for Julie to be that person. Regardless, she was the only one available, she had some knowledge of the lifestyle, and she was fiercely loyal to Sasha.
“Of course,” he said. “Julie, will you join us?”
By the look on her expression, Julie didn’t think it a good idea for her to be present either. That she nodded and took a seat beside her friend spoke volumes about her character and fortitude.
“First off,” he said, “I want to apologize for what you’ve been through. I feel quite protective of the group’s submissives and for something like this to happen on my watch? ‘I’m sorry’ just doesn’t convey my feelings.”
“You weren’t there,” Sasha said. “You shouldn’t feel guilty.”
“That’s the funny thing about guilt. It’s rarely reasonable.”
That at least got him a half smile from Sasha. He said it intentionally to lighten the mood but also because it was true. If he knew anything about human nature, Sasha was probably dealing with her own guilt over the situation.
“The other senior members and I met with Peter earlier,” he said. “I don’t know if you’re interested in his account, but I can tell you if you want.”
Sasha nodded warily. “Okay.”
“He claims he forgot the bell. Completely unacceptable for a Dom of any experience level. It’s probably overkill, but we’ll be stressing the importance of safe words, and how to use them when playing with gags, at every group meeting, every breakout, and every play party going forward.”
“I don’t think there’s such a thing as overkill when it comes to safe words,” Julie said. “For either party.”
He looked to her in surprise. She’d so staunchly stressed her dislike for Peter, he wasn’t prepared to hear her even suggest Sasha shared some of the blame.
I’m proud of you, kitten.
“Agreed,” he said.
“What else did he say?” Sasha asked.
“He has no excuse for the whip and admits it was a mistake. He’d watched a few demo scenes and thought he could handle it.”
Sasha’s expression drifted to somewhere else and her fist opened and closed repeatedly. Julie took her hand and whispered something to her with no response.
“Sasha,” he commanded as gently, but firmly, as possible. “Right here with me. Focus on me. On my words. Nothing else.”
Something inside the wounded submissive flickered to life and her gaze focused on him. She looked surprised for a second, but then she frowned and slipped her hand out of Julie’s.
She was in a worse frame of mind than he’d thought and he decided to edit the remainder a bit.
“Peter thought you had gone into subspace. It was only after he realized you were bleeding and had gone slack in your bonds that he checked and discovered you’d passed out.”
Julie kept her hand on Sasha’s and she whispered to her friend. Sasha nodded.
Daniel cleared his throat. “While he did the right thing by taking you to the hospital and calling me, that the scene even progressed to that point is reprehensible. And as a submissive, you should have never let the scene start in the first place. The principal group members have called for a discipline session for you both to be held at my house on Friday.”
Sasha simply nodded, but Julie’s head jerked up in surprise. “For them both? What?”
“Sasha is dealing with the consequences of her misjudgment. I can’t imagine the group to call for any action against her.”
“But they might?” Julie’s eyes grew big. “Are you serious?”
“It’s standard procedure for us to at least speak with the parties involved.”
“I can’t believe—”
Sasha cut her off. “I understand. I’ll be there.”
“And I will be, too,” Julie said.
He thought that would be a horrible idea. “Julie, I’m not sure—”
“Is there a group rule preventing my attendance?”
“No, but as your . . .” One look in her eyes told him not to finish the sentence. If he said he could forbid her as her Dom, he had no doubt that in her current frame of mind, she would tell him where he could shove his playroom. On the other hand, he feared if she attended the session on Friday night, she might tell him the same anyway. It was a lose-lose situation no matter how he looked at it.
“No,” he said. “There’s not a group rule preventing your attendance. I would just ask you to make sure you think it’s the best idea for you to attend.”
He’d known her to be a stubborn woman, but never had that been clearer than with her next words. “Just because something isn’t good for you doesn’t mean it isn’t good for me.”
She was drifting farther and farther away and there was nothing he could do about it. For a moment he wished he could command her to stay by his side, but reason soon replaced that thought. He wanted her to be with him of her own free will. And if her free will took her elsewhere, he had to accept that.