I turn to the Wyld member I recognize. “I would advise you stop doing business with this fucker immediately.”
The guy nods, face grim. There’s no tolerance for abusive assholes in a club like this. A Dom’s entire purpose is to care for his submissive. Even when there’s punishment and impact play, she holds all the power. And there’s always, always consent.
I look back at the scum still sprawled on the floor. He’s got a hand to his nose, as if trying to stop the bleeding. I’m pleased to see it’s dripped onto his department store shirt. Cheap asshole.
“You’re done,” I tell him. “You’re fucking done. In finance, in life. I’m going to ruin you.” I lean down and get in his face. “You know who I am—tell me you think I can’t do it.”
He just stares up at me, face red with impotent rage. He knows I have the resources and the connections to end his career. And a whole lot more than that.
“You never contact her again,” I spit, standing. “I hear about another threatening letter or cruel little gift, and I come after you. And this time there won’t be anyone to stop me from rearranging your face.”
His expression is that of a man who wants to lash out, to hurt me. I wonder how many times he wore that same expression around her? The thought makes me want to start punching all over again.
“I don’t understand why you give a fuck,” he snarls. “What is she to you?”
I stand to my full height, looking down at his pathetic form. “She’s fucking everything to me,” I tell him. “But there’s only one thing you need to remember. She’smine. And no one fucks with what’s mine.”
KENSIE
Ican’t seem to stop my hands from shaking. All through the car ride back to my apartment, while I poured myself a glass of wine, even while I paced around the living room, they continue to shake. Hell, I think my whole body is trembling.
It’s all too much. The experience with those guys in Grant’s playroom. My panic when they tried to take things to the next level. The universe-tilting realization that my feelings for Grant have somehow gotten much bigger than I can control.
Before I could even get out of there, Fred appeared, like my worst nightmare come to life. In the one place I’d been able to feel truly safe since the divorce. The one place where I had finally started to understand myself. Seeing him standing there, tainting the space that had come to mean so much to me, had been like a sucker punch.
When he put his hands on me and started spewing his usual verbal shit, it was like going back in time two years. Back to when he kept me beaten down and alone. Back to the sick feeling in my stomach every day, never knowing what kind of mood he’d be in, never knowing what new wound he’d create with his vile words and manipulative actions.
I laugh to myself now, the sound bitter in my silent apartment. I thought I’d grown so much, become so much stronger. But just seeing him had sent that illusion crashing down.
And then there was Grant. Suddenly appearing between me and my worst nightmare. Putting my ex-husband on the ground for daring to touch me.
Andres hand had been gentle but uncompromising as he led me away from the melee. I went without a fight, too overwhelmed and terrified to do anything else. He put me in the back of Grant’s car and told the driver to take me straight home.
There was a part of me that was disappointed when he pulled up in front of my place and not Grant’s—which is ridiculous. Andres had said “take her home” and Grant’s place certainly isn’t my home.
But still, there was comfort in imagining myself in his penthouse, in thinking about his soft, comfortable bed, the gas fireplace in his living room, the shelves lined with books—all of those little details that I was just starting to know.
“Stop it,” I order myself before taking a deep swig of Pinot. The last thing I need to be doing is thinking about spending time with Grant. Didn’t I leave his playroom in the first place because I needed space? Needed time to wrap my mind around the terrifying realization of my feelings for him?
I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him.
And that’s a fucking disaster in the making.
I don’t need to look any farther than the man Grant punched just a half hour ago to remember all the reasons why I don’t want to do love, not again. Love makes you vulnerable. It allows the type of people who want to hurt you way too much ammunition. Love—because I did love my husband, at least at first—had nearly destroyed me, putting me in a position where I had nothing of my own and no way out.
Love is bullshit.
But even knowing that, there’s a pain in my chest thinking about Grant fighting with Fred. Andres had assured me that they wouldn’t let it get too far while he bundled me off to Grant’s car. “I don’t particularly enjoy cleaning excessive amounts of blood out of my carpets,” he’d said in that cool, unflappable voice of his.
So at least I’m pretty sure Grant won’t actually murder him.
I bring my wine to the living room and collapse on the couch. As worked up as I am right now, the one thing I’m not feeling is fear. In fact, it’s been a while since I’ve felt fear in this apartment.
Probably because Grant insisted on setting up a new security system here after our intruder fantasy. The front door to the building actually locks now, and requires a key code to open. The elevator, too, now requires a code. There are security cameras in the lobby and all the hallways. He had a video doorbell installed at my unit so I can always see who’s outside before opening my (brand new, highly fortified) door.
Because that’s what Grant does, isn’t it? He takes care of me. Makes sure I’m safe—physically and emotionally. I’ve never really doubted that, not since we first started this crazy relationship. Trusting him the way I do is the only reason I was able to allow myself to experience everything we’ve done over these last few months.
Even tonight, when I’d panicked in the private room, I hadn’t worried for one second that he wouldn’t take care of me. I knew the instant I said the safe word everything would stop. He would never try to pressure me to keep going, would never want to do something that I wasn’t totally into.
