Authors: Brynn Paulin
Blood? Tyler could draw blood? Ana’s throat closed and she pressed her face into the bench. Max slowly flipped up her skirt, exposing her bare ass to the entire club. She could do this. It was only seven strokes. She’d be okay. Wouldn’t she?
Normally Max’s touch calmed her fears. Now there was little comfort when Max placed his hand over her lower back. It was time to begin. An electric current seemed to buzz through the club patrons who watched the activity on the floor.
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A whine whirred through the air a moment before the cane slashed diagonally over her ass, the sting exploding across her skin. She tried to contain the resulting scream that howled from her. Tears filled her eyes. Shit.
Suddenly Max was gone along with Josh and Ryan, bellows outside herself surrounded her as another slash fell across her burning flesh. Feminine hands replaced those of Max’s brothers.
“Three,” Jessica said as another blow came. Her voice trembled. Ana could barely hear her through the blinding, deafening agony slicing through her.
Max struggled against his two brothers as he watched Tyler draw back to deliver a fourth blow. All he could see was the cane flying at the woman he loved and the brutal purple welts lifting on her ass. Tyler was hitting her with every ounce of his strength—
far more power than any Dom should ever use on a sub, especially one new to the scene.
Tears flooded down Ana’s face as she held the bar with whitened fingers. Valiantly, she tried to contain her cries. Her lip was bloody from the effort. “Let go of me,” he demanded as he had since the first blow had fallen. “Get your fucking hands off me and let me help her.”
“Every strike is driving him further and further from this community,” Ryan pointed out. “Our community will push him from town for this. You know they will.”
“You have to let him finish or he’ll come after her again. Would you rather he did this without you there to stop him after seven?” Josh reasoned quietly as Max continued to struggle. He had to get to Ana. She was his. He’d promised to protect her.
He’d failed her.
What his brothers said was true but Ana’s anguished cries tore through him like a serrated blade. It ripped away every bond he’d thought they’d built between them and left him raw and empty. No matter what she’d claimed before, she’d never forgive him this failure. He didn’t deserve her.
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“For God’s sake, Max,” Ryan swore as Max continued to throw himself forward.
“Be a freaking Dom and pull out stoic for five seconds.”
“You’d let him do this to Jessica?” Max snapped. Ryan’s hands loosened.
Max lunged forward as one of the women murmured “seven” and dodged in front of Tyler as the man lifted his arm again. An eighth stroke landed square across Max’s legs and he bellowed in rage. He yanked the cane from the man’s hand and cracked it over his leg. Tossing it aside, he advanced on Tyler.
Around them, the crowd roared its approval. Max didn’t care what the crowd thought. Tyler would pay. Drawing back his arm, he plowed his fist into Tyler’s face, satisfaction bursting inside him along with the blood flooding from Tyler’s nose. Before the man had a chance to react, Max punched him again and laid him out on the wood-planked floor. It wasn’t enough.
Max’s hands opened and closed as he stared down at the unconscious man. Tyler would never be allowed at the club again. His family—especially Theo—had enough influence to assure that. As the bastard stirred, Max knelt beside him and pressed a hand to his throat. Tyler’s eyes went wide.
“You ever touch her again, you ever come near her and I’ll kill you. Do you understand?”
Tyler just stared at him.
Max tightened his hand. “Do you understand?” he demanded.
Tyler nodded slowly.
His fingers relaxed slightly. “If I see you, if I even accidentally run into you, you’d better run the other way. You’re no Dom. You’re nothing more than a bully and a sadist.”
“You might want to leave town, man,” Josh commented from behind them. “Max, Ana needs you.”
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Max jumped and headed back to her, only to come up short at the sight of her behind. Long dark purple welts distorted the beautiful curve of her ass and upper thighs. His eyes burned at the sight. Fear followed. Why was she still bent over the bench? Why hadn’t she moved?
Kneeling behind her, he released the cuffs holding her feet in place. Standing, he bent beside her. “Ana,” he whispered, wiping her tears with his thumb. She didn’t respond. His stomach folded in on itself while his heart thundered in merciless panic.
He’d never seen a sub so far gone.
Carefully, he pried her fingers loose from the bar, catching her when she slithered toward the floor. She whimpered as his arm came in contact with her thighs. He shouldn’t have let her do this. He should have stopped her, no matter what. They could have dealt with Tyler somehow.
Instead he’d failed her.
Theo stood near the door as Max carried Ana toward the exit. Silently, he handed over her cloak, his face grim as he surveyed the damage. “Tyler’s finished,” he said, his voice rough with suppressed anger. “Plenty of the Doms and subs here are cops. He’s not going to be able to sneeze now without getting a citation for disturbing the peace.
He’s gonna be too busy with his new friends to bother Ana.”
Max nodded, his mind too centered on her to fully comprehend Theo’s words. “Call Dr. Manning and have her meet me at Ana’s apartment.” She’d want to be there after what happened. She sure as hell wouldn’t want to stay with him now that Tyler had been dealt with.
Now that I
’
ve failed her
.
“Done.”
The drive to Ana’s seemed to take an eon. There was no way she could sit so he’d laid her across the backseat. She was deathly silent while he cursed himself. How could he have let this happen? Everything he’d been taught since childhood said to protect his sub with everything in him. To treasure her. Not to share her. Yet he’d allowed a sadist to beat the woman he prized more than his own heart. She was his soul.
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His emptiness echoed within him, resounding so loudly his bones ached with his sorrow. He’d wagered on the game and lost everything. She’d never forgive him for this.
Dr. Manning stepped from her car as Max pulled to the curb. In leather pants and a V-neck black T-shirt that displayed her hammered-silver metal collar she didn’t appear to be a doctor. Along with her Dom, however, Vanessa specialized in tending the D/s community.
She tipped her head as she approached. “Master Cress. How is she?”
He shook his head as he carefully wrapped Ana in her cloak and lifted her from the SUV. He didn’t carry her often and right now she seemed as light and fragile as an injured bird.
“Unresponsive?” Vanessa asked, holding open the door for him to enter.
“So far.”
The doctor made a noncommittal sound and followed him up the stairs. He wanted to ask her what she meant by that, demand to know Ana would be okay, beg her to make Ana feel better. He mentally shook himself. Vanessa couldn’t tell him anything or do anything for Ana until they were inside and she’d had a chance to do an examination.
Using the key Ana had given him when she’d moved in, he let them into the tiny apartment. He didn’t bother with lights. The flickering neon from the signs across the street illuminated her apartment sufficiently, giving it the seamy feeling of a B-grade detective flick. It matched his mood. Bleak. Miserable.
He winced as the overhead light snapped on and blinded him.
“It would be best if you lay her on her bed,” Vanessa instructed. “That way I can examine her and she won’t have to be moved again. Then she can just sleep—unless I find something that will require medical attention I can’t provide.”
“What are the chances of that?” he demanded.
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“She was caned but her skin wasn’t broken. It was a fairly lightweight instrument with blows concentrated on the buttocks and thighs.”
Max listened intently. Theo had passed on more information than he’d have been cognizant enough to relay.
“I’d say,” she continued, “that chances are Ana will be a very sore sub for a while but she won’t require a hospital visit.” She set down her bag on the table beside the bed, while Max laid Ana on the blankets. Carefully, he peeled away the cloak.
The consummate professional, Vanessa pulled on a pair of latex gloves and turned toward her patient. Professional or not, she couldn’t contain her gasp at the sight of Ana’s ravaged ass. For a moment, she stood aghast, her lips slightly parted and stared.
Her reaction to the extensive beating sent bile rushing up his throat. He’d known it was bad yet for the damage to stun a woman who routinely worked the emergency room sickened him. If he ever caught Tyler Awkes alone, that bastard was a dead man.
“Sir,” she said addressing him by the honorific given Doms in their community.
“This is more than I expected. I’ve seen plenty of patients with injuries from unsafe BDSM but…this is brutal.”
“He meant to punish her.”
Her brow furrowed. “I’d say he did. Ana is your sub?”
Here it was. The questions about why he hadn’t protected her. His throat tightened as guilt closed around him again. “Yes.”
Concern not repulsion filled her eyes. “Do you…need a sedative?” she asked tentatively.
Him? He shook his head in disbelief. He deserved to feel the same pain as Ana. Hell if he could take it from her he would. “Just…help her.”
Vanessa’s face filled with sympathy. Looking away, she pulled a plastic-backed paper napkin from the bag and unfolded it onto the bed beside Ana then placed several items from her bag on it. Quickly, she checked vital signs and responsiveness.
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“Mentally, I’d say she’s deep in sub-space,” she said, mentioning the state of mind many subs entered after an intense experience. “She’s fighting the pain and her reactions to it. She’ll be okay after some rest and will probably even come out of this enough to talk to you once I give her something for the pain. Now,” she focused on the welts, palpating the area as she checked for broken skin and determined the damage,
“this looks worse than it is. Thank goodness. It appears she has deep tissue bruising but the welts will lessen by morning. I’m going to give her a shot to help her sleep.”
She finished tending Ana, dabbing ointment over the abused flesh then handing him the tube. “Keep this on her. The lanocaine in it will numb the area and reduce the pain. Do you have any questions about her care?”
When he said no, she gathered her things and departed with a reverent inclination of her head. In moments he was alone with Ana and his recriminations. Carefully he worked Ana’s skirt off her, wincing at her quiet moans as the leather pulled over her butt. Despite the doctor’s assurance that Ana would be more responsive once the pain lessened, he didn’t try to wake her. She needed her rest.
He left her on her stomach, her face turned toward him on her pillow. Pain etched across her features. Pain he’d brought on with his stupidity. He should never have taken her to the club. No matter how he looked at it, he couldn’t escape the fact that he’d failed her.
Listening to the traffic on the road below her apartment, he sat beside her on the bed and rested his arms on his raised knees. Wearily, he dropped his face onto them.
There was no way around it. He’d known Tyler might be at the club. He’d known he might be angry. Max couldn’t face her when she woke—and maybe that was part of why he didn’t rouse her. How could he look at the woman he loved and admit he’d let this happen to her? She was so precious to him. He loved her.
Emotion welled in his chest as he smoothed the line of pain creasing her forehead and brushed back her hair. She’d never want him after he’d allowed this to happen to 93
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her. She wouldn’t want any part of the scene either. One day with her as his sub and he’d failed and lost her.
What did that say about him? He was shitty Dom. He understood pain for pleasure, discipline and punishment. How every relationship had degrees of Domination and submission. He even understood that the punishment Ana had endured might be commonplace in some relationships—not in his circle, however. Having all the knowledge in the world meant nothing if he couldn’t share it with the one woman with whom he wanted to share it.
She snuggled close to him, whispering his name. The tremor in her voice cut through him. He wanted to run from the emptiness filling him. Run home and drown himself in booze. Anything to dull his reality without Ana. Instead, he stayed beside her all night, aching with what he knew he must do. Ana had promised herself to him—at least until she left. Now that she was safe from Tyler, he wouldn’t hold her to it.
At five in the morning, when he knew he had to go home and get ready for work, he smoothed another layer of cream over the welts. Fighting the visceral emotions inside him that told him to do otherwise, he let his brain rule and wrote a note to Ana.
He couldn’t bring himself to say goodbye—weak-ass bastard that he was. She’d read goodbye between the lines. Carefully, he detailed the instructions Dr. Manning had given and told Ana what the doctor had said about her injuries. Then he promised to have her bags delivered to her.
With shaking hands, he removed the collar he’d locked around her neck, left his key on her kitchen table and let himself out of her apartment. Everything between them had changed.
He’d never be the same.
* * * * *
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Ana grimaced as she woke. Her head hurt and as soon as she moved, she realized her head wasn’t alone in the pain. Her muscles ached as if she’d been through the workout of her life. In a way she had, she realized as her memory of last night returned.
“Max,” she murmured, expecting him to be beside her when she turned over. The other side of the bed was cool and empty. Groaning, she sat up quickly and scanned the room for him. Nothing.