But instead of a menu, it was a handwritten note, and she felt faint when she read the words printed with red ink.
Better watch out, bitch.
Her body shook, but she composed herself enough to close and dead bolt the door. She glanced around her apartment. The lamp in the living room gave off enough light for her to see that nothing looked out of place.
Her cat, Bentley, was curled up on the couch. He stretched, then hopped down to welcome her home by weaving in between her legs. The apartment was secure. No one could have gotten in, but she picked Bentley up and checked all the rooms anyway.
When she finished her perusal, she went back to the note. Her first thought was to call the police, but she quickly decided that was not the best thing to do. With her father being who he was, word would get out, and before she knew it, she’d have around-the-clock security. While that could be a good thing, she’d worked too hard to get out from under her father’s scrutiny to throw away her freedom.
She sank down onto the couch. She had to do something, though. Things were starting to escalate. At first there were the phone calls she didn’t think much about. They could easily be written off as crank calls. But then they started happening in the middle of the night, and she knew it was more than a wrong number.
When she answered, no one ever spoke on the line. Whoever was calling simply breathed into the receiver. Now, unless it was a number she recognized, she let it go to voice mail. But that was akin to ignoring the problem in the hopes it’d go away. And problems never went away on their own.
She couldn’t prove the person who’d been calling her was the same person who left the note, but nothing else made sense. Harassing by phone she could sweep to the side. A note slid under her door, she could not. The note could be from anyone: a criminal she put away, an enemy of her father’s, or simply an attention seeker who wanted fifteen minutes of fame. There were too many variables, and the only thing she knew for sure was she couldn’t ignore it. Whoever it was knew where she lived, and while she was reluctant to go to the authorities, she wasn’t stupid.
She needed someone knowledgeable and discreet. Someone she could trust not to run to the police or the media. But someone experienced in personal protection.
There was only one person she knew like that. With a resolute sigh, she admitted the inevitable. She needed Jeff.
Jeff was in the middle of packing up his kitchen when his cell phone rang. With a huff he placed the half-filled box on the countertop and glanced at the caller ID.
“Daniel?” he answered.
“Jeff, hey,” his friend replied. “I need your help.”
He leaned a hip against the counter. “Sure. What can I do?”
“Julie’s been up all night, throwing up.”
“Sorry to hear that. Hope she gets better soon.”
“I’ll tell her, but listen, about tonight.”
“The play party?”
“Yes, would you mind taking over? Since it’s at my guesthouse, I’ll serve as dungeon monitor, but I need someone to do the demo.”
Daniel wouldn’t play with anyone except Julie now that he’d collared her, so Jeff wasn’t surprised he was looking for someone to take over. He just wasn’t sure he was in the mood to be that person.
“I thought Nathaniel and Abby were doing the demo?”
“They are, but they’re doing a more advanced session. Julie and I were going to do something less intense.” His friend sighed. “Didn’t you hear anything at the meeting?”
Jeff decided not to answer the question. Hell no, he hadn’t been paying attention at the meeting. He’d been watching Dena. “You sure Julie’s really sick and it’s not just nerves at playing in public for the first time?”
“I should be offended you even asked me that, but I suppose it’s a reasonable question. Yes, I’m sure she’s sick. I was with her all night, holding her hair back for her.”
With Daniel’s words, a memory threatened to wash over him, and he grabbed onto the counter to steady himself.
She was on her knees on the bathroom floor, rocking back and forth. Between bouts of vomiting, she held her lower abdomen. She hurt and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do. She wasn’t even happy he stayed in the bathroom with her. He’d never felt so helpless in his life.
“This isn’t normal,” he said as another spasm hit her. “You need to call the doctor.”
“I’m fine. It affects everyone differently.”
“Not like this. Either you call or I will.”
She mumbled something that may have been in agreement with him, but then a particularly hard wave of nausea overwhelmed her and, no matter what her wishes, he moved behind her. Gently, he pulled her hair back while she emptied what was left in her stomach. Afterward, she collapsed into his arms and he silently cursed himself for being useless. It wasn’t something he was used to, and he hated that he couldn’t take her pain away. So instead he held her, stroked her hair, and whispered that everything was going to be okay.
But when she moved, there was blood between her legs and they both knew things would never be okay again.
“Jeff?”
He shook his head. “Huh? Sorry. What?”
“This is starting to become a bad habit. I was giving you a rundown of what I’d planned to demo. Did you hear any of it?”
“No.”
Daniel sighed. “Maybe we should just cancel the whole thing.”
“No. It’ll be fine. Repeat what you were saying.”
“We were just going to do a light flogging scene. I thought we should offer something more basic, especially with the increased interest in the lifestyle.”
“Yes, that’s fine. Who have you lined up to sub?” The silence from the other end of the phone made him suspicious. “Daniel?”
“I haven’t called any subs yet. I wanted to discuss it with you first.”
“I’ll call. Who’s on the list?” He wasn’t all that happy to potentially be playing with someone new. But it’d be a light scene, and as long as they were able to talk some beforehand, it’d be okay. Besides, once he found out who was free, he could probably pick someone he knew.
“Well, funny thing.” Daniel cleared his throat, and Jeff had a feeling what he said next wouldn’t be funny at all. “There’s only one sub available, and it’s only because she had a business conference fall through at the last second.”
Better watch out, bitch.
Her body shook, but she composed herself enough to close and dead bolt the door. She glanced around her apartment. The lamp in the living room gave off enough light for her to see that nothing looked out of place.
Her cat, Bentley, was curled up on the couch. He stretched, then hopped down to welcome her home by weaving in between her legs. The apartment was secure. No one could have gotten in, but she picked Bentley up and checked all the rooms anyway.
When she finished her perusal, she went back to the note. Her first thought was to call the police, but she quickly decided that was not the best thing to do. With her father being who he was, word would get out, and before she knew it, she’d have around-the-clock security. While that could be a good thing, she’d worked too hard to get out from under her father’s scrutiny to throw away her freedom.
She sank down onto the couch. She had to do something, though. Things were starting to escalate. At first there were the phone calls she didn’t think much about. They could easily be written off as crank calls. But then they started happening in the middle of the night, and she knew it was more than a wrong number.
When she answered, no one ever spoke on the line. Whoever was calling simply breathed into the receiver. Now, unless it was a number she recognized, she let it go to voice mail. But that was akin to ignoring the problem in the hopes it’d go away. And problems never went away on their own.
She couldn’t prove the person who’d been calling her was the same person who left the note, but nothing else made sense. Harassing by phone she could sweep to the side. A note slid under her door, she could not. The note could be from anyone: a criminal she put away, an enemy of her father’s, or simply an attention seeker who wanted fifteen minutes of fame. There were too many variables, and the only thing she knew for sure was she couldn’t ignore it. Whoever it was knew where she lived, and while she was reluctant to go to the authorities, she wasn’t stupid.
She needed someone knowledgeable and discreet. Someone she could trust not to run to the police or the media. But someone experienced in personal protection.
There was only one person she knew like that. With a resolute sigh, she admitted the inevitable. She needed Jeff.
Jeff was in the middle of packing up his kitchen when his cell phone rang. With a huff he placed the half-filled box on the countertop and glanced at the caller ID.
“Daniel?” he answered.
“Jeff, hey,” his friend replied. “I need your help.”
He leaned a hip against the counter. “Sure. What can I do?”
“Julie’s been up all night, throwing up.”
“Sorry to hear that. Hope she gets better soon.”
“I’ll tell her, but listen, about tonight.”
“The play party?”
“Yes, would you mind taking over? Since it’s at my guesthouse, I’ll serve as dungeon monitor, but I need someone to do the demo.”
Daniel wouldn’t play with anyone except Julie now that he’d collared her, so Jeff wasn’t surprised he was looking for someone to take over. He just wasn’t sure he was in the mood to be that person.
“I thought Nathaniel and Abby were doing the demo?”
“They are, but they’re doing a more advanced session. Julie and I were going to do something less intense.” His friend sighed. “Didn’t you hear anything at the meeting?”
Jeff decided not to answer the question. Hell no, he hadn’t been paying attention at the meeting. He’d been watching Dena. “You sure Julie’s really sick and it’s not just nerves at playing in public for the first time?”
“I should be offended you even asked me that, but I suppose it’s a reasonable question. Yes, I’m sure she’s sick. I was with her all night, holding her hair back for her.”
With Daniel’s words, a memory threatened to wash over him, and he grabbed onto the counter to steady himself.
She was on her knees on the bathroom floor, rocking back and forth. Between bouts of vomiting, she held her lower abdomen. She hurt and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do. She wasn’t even happy he stayed in the bathroom with her. He’d never felt so helpless in his life.
“This isn’t normal,” he said as another spasm hit her. “You need to call the doctor.”
“I’m fine. It affects everyone differently.”
“Not like this. Either you call or I will.”
She mumbled something that may have been in agreement with him, but then a particularly hard wave of nausea overwhelmed her and, no matter what her wishes, he moved behind her. Gently, he pulled her hair back while she emptied what was left in her stomach. Afterward, she collapsed into his arms and he silently cursed himself for being useless. It wasn’t something he was used to, and he hated that he couldn’t take her pain away. So instead he held her, stroked her hair, and whispered that everything was going to be okay.
But when she moved, there was blood between her legs and they both knew things would never be okay again.
“Jeff?”
He shook his head. “Huh? Sorry. What?”
“This is starting to become a bad habit. I was giving you a rundown of what I’d planned to demo. Did you hear any of it?”
“No.”
Daniel sighed. “Maybe we should just cancel the whole thing.”
“No. It’ll be fine. Repeat what you were saying.”
“We were just going to do a light flogging scene. I thought we should offer something more basic, especially with the increased interest in the lifestyle.”
“Yes, that’s fine. Who have you lined up to sub?” The silence from the other end of the phone made him suspicious. “Daniel?”
“I haven’t called any subs yet. I wanted to discuss it with you first.”
“I’ll call. Who’s on the list?” He wasn’t all that happy to potentially be playing with someone new. But it’d be a light scene, and as long as they were able to talk some beforehand, it’d be okay. Besides, once he found out who was free, he could probably pick someone he knew.
“Well, funny thing.” Daniel cleared his throat, and Jeff had a feeling what he said next wouldn’t be funny at all. “There’s only one sub available, and it’s only because she had a business conference fall through at the last second.”
