Chapter Eight
Blaze
“I can’t tell if she’s freaking the fuck out or if she’s thriving,” I admit to Steel.
When the festivities first started, I thought for sure Raven would bolt. Her eyes were wide as she took in the room and the different scenes. I get it. It’s a lot for someone not part of this world.
But she didn’t run. After a couple of hours, she squared her shoulders and plastered on a smile.
“She’s a little overwhelmed, but she’s doing great,” Steel says. “And she’s a fucking rockstar at mixing those drinks.”
“That she is.”
We watch as she smiles at someone and hands them their drink.
“I’m going to get a drink and check on her,” Steel says.
“Bastard,” I laugh as I turn away to go and do my damn job.
Steel
Walking up to the bar, I smile as Raven turns her attention to me.
“Hello,” she smiles up at me. “What can I get for you?”
“My regular,” I say, knowing full well that she has no idea who I am right now. In a way, it’s kind of fun.
“Oh, I’m sorry, sir, I don’t know what your regular is. If you want, I can surprise you with what I think you might like.”
Interesting.
“Please, do,” I say.
I remain silent as I watch her work. It won’t be long before she has our voices memorized, but until then, I’m going to take advantage of our newness and watch her figure it out.
“So, I’m thinking something strong,” she says as she mixes different liquids together. “You strike me as the kind of man who prefers bold flavors, something that makes a statement.”
Her hands move confidently, though I can tell she’s still feeling her way through the club’s dynamic. She pours whiskey into a shaker, adds a splash of bitters, and then a touch of something sweet, maple syrup, maybe. Her choice intrigues me.
As she shakes the concoction, I lean against the bar and watch her. Raven has a quiet determination about her, a fire she probably doesn’t even realize yet. It’s in the way she studies her environment. The way she handles uncertainty with grace.
She pours the amber liquid into a chilled glass and garnishes it with a single orange twist. Sliding it across the bar, she looks up at me with a satisfied grin. “There. A classic Old Fashioned, with a little twist. Let me know if I got it right.”
I lift the glass and take a sip, letting the smooth warmth of the drink settle on my tongue. She nailed it. “Impressive. You’re a quick study.”
“Thank you,” she smiles before wiping down the counter.
I drop a fifty on the counter in front of her.
“Oh, your drinks come with your membership, sir,” she smiles, holding out the bill.
“That’s your tip,” I smile.
“Nonsense,” she giggles. “I can’t accept this kind of tip. I just handed you a glass with liquid in it. I didn’t do anything special.”
“I disagree. You’re very special. Take the tip, Pet.”
I laugh as her eyes widen with the realization of who I am with just that one simple word.
“Jasper,” she laughs. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize it was you.”
“I know,” I admit. “Don’t worry, baby. We’ll all sit down and come up with a way for you to always know who we are.”
It seems I’ve shocked her into silence with my baby remark. I’ll have to remember that.
I pick up my drink and step back, giving her room to compose herself. Watching her navigate this world, our world, is proving to be more fascinating than I expected.
Raven
I can’t believe that I keep messing up with those two. How hard can it be to remember them? They’re freaking huge. They tower over me in height and are wide enough that one of them can fully cover all of my curves. Not to mention that they have red hair and bright green eyes.
It’s not that I keep forgetting those things. It’s that I don’t actually see those things when they first approach. When something happens, and I realize who it is, that’s when I see the build, height, and color of their hair and eyes. My brain can’t seem to connect the dots until I’ve made the personal connection with who they are.
Even then, sometimes it’s hard. How in the world am I going to make a relationship work with two men when I can’t even recognize my own face? Not that I’ve agreed to give this relationship a try. But still.
“Hey, boss lady. Table three wants to speak with the manager.”
I look at one of the other bartenders and smile. “Does he have an order?”
“Already got it ready for you.”
I accept the glass and head to table three. It’s not the first time tonight that I’ve been summoned by one of the members. Usually, it’s to ask how many drinks they’re allowed to have or complain that we don’t have food.
“Here’s your drink, sir,” I smile at the man as I try to ignore the moaning and crying from the stations nearby. This place is going to take some getting used to. “I was told that you wanted to speak with me.”
“Yeah, I want to work station nine, but it’s closed off. Fix it.”
I look at his wrist to see a red band. He’s a Dom.
“I’m sorry, sir,” I say. “I’m not in control over any of the stations. You’ll have to take that up with the owners. May I ask how many drinks you’ve had tonight?”
The limit is three. No matter what alcoholic drink they choose. And the Doms that have come to scene in the stations involving blood play and fire aren’t allowed any until after their scenes. There are a lot of rules here, but I’ve come to realize that it’s for the safety of everyone involved.
“What’s it matter, bitch? As a matter of fact. I’ll take another.”
“Of course,” I smile and turn to go back to the bar. I’ll have to text Jasper and Jaxon. Before I’m able to step away, the male grips my waist and pulls me down on his lap.
“You’re going to have to let me go,” I say as calmly as my racing heart allows. “I need to go and get your drink.”
“I think I’m fine with you right where you are, little subbie.”
When I feel his grip loosen as he reaches for his drink, I quickly stand and take several steps back until I hit a brick wall.
“It’s alright, sweetheart,” is whispered from behind me. “Steel is right beside you. He’s going to touch your back, so you know it’s him. Don’t leave his side.”
“Taylor, once I make this announcement, please take Phillip to our office. We’ll be there in a few.”
I watch as another large male yanks the man to his feet and shoves his hands behind his back.
A man, who I’m assuming is Jaxon, walks out in front of me and pulls out his phone. A few seconds later, the music stops, and the dim lights of the dungeon turn bright white, which causes everyone to stop what they’re doing and look in our direction. No safe words were needed.
“I want everyone to listen to me and listen good,” Jaxon says. I know I’ve only known him for a handful of days, but I’ve never heard his voice sound this angry. It’s kind of scary.
Jasper moves his hand to my hip and squeezes gently.
“It’s alright, baby girl,” he whispers.
Jaxon walks over to me, takes my wrist in his giant hand, and lifts it into the air.
Jaxon’s hand tightens slightly around my wrist as he raises it, his voice booming across the now brightly lit dungeon.
“I shouldn’t have to tell you what the color of this band means,” he says far too calmly, though his tone carries a dangerous edge that silences the entire room. “But clearly, a refresher is in order. Black means NO FUCKING TOUCHING . No excuses, no exceptions. Always check the band before you so much as shake someone’s hand.”
The room is utterly still, the usual hum of whispered conversation and scene sounds replaced with a tense, uncomfortable quiet.
Jaxon’s eyes sweep across the crowd, appearing to land on each person long enough to ensure his message is clear. “If anyone here thinks they’re above these rules, let this be your one and only warning. Break them again, and you won’t just be banned. You’ll deal with me .”
The weight of his words sinks into the air, and I can feel Jasper’s hand on my hip, grounding me as I stand frozen.
Jaxon turns to another man and nods. “Take him to the office. Steel and I will deal with him shortly.”
The man who had grabbed me is dragged away, still sputtering protests that no one pays attention to.
Jaxon turns back to the room, his expression still hard. “Lights down.”
The dungeon plunges back into its moody, dim ambiance, and the usual sounds slowly resume. But I notice the furtive glances people keep throwing my way, and my stomach twists.
Jaxon steps closer, his demeanor shifting as he lowers his voice for only me to hear. “Are you alright, sweetheart?”
“I’m okay,” I try and smile. “I’m used to handsy people. I’ve been doing this for a long time.”
Jaxon’s jaw tightens, and I can see the flicker of something dark in his eyes. Anger, maybe, or frustration. “That doesn’t make it okay,” he says, his voice firm but quiet. “No one here gets to treat you like that. Ever. We have rules put in place for a reason.”
Jasper’s hand on my hip gives a gentle squeeze, his touch steadying me in a way I hadn’t realized I needed. “You shouldn’t have to ‘be used to it,’ Pet. This isn’t that kind of place.”
Their protectiveness feels overwhelming, a strange mix of comfort and embarrassment bubbling up in my chest. “I wasn’t trying to make it sound like it’s not a big deal,” I say softly. “It’s just... I’ve handled worse.”
“And you won’t have to handle worse here,” Jaxon replies firmly, his green eyes locking onto mine. “Not while we’re around.”
“Boss lady, someone wants to talk to you.”
“Your Dom’s complain a lot,” I sigh. “They want food, by the way. I guess being bossy works up an appetite.”
“We have food,” Jaxon says.
“You have snacks, Blaze,” someone laughs. “You have the type of snacks Subs need after a scene. I want some greasy wings.”
“Then take your ass to O’Neal’s,” Jaxon says. “You came here to play. Not eat.”
“Well, I do get to eat out quite often while I’m here,” the man, wherever he is, laughs.
“And with that, I’m going to go serve some drinks,” I say before rushing away. When I hear the two jerks laugh, I turn back to glare at them, but their faces are already lost in the crowd. There are several looking my way, and I know two of them are my targets. I’m not sure which two so I stick my tongue out at all of them and get back to work.
Steel
Raven’s words echo in my head as I watch her retreat toward the bar. I’ve handled worse. That admission bothers me more than I’d like to admit.
Blaze leans against the counter beside me, his grin as casual as ever, but I know him too well to miss the flicker of tension in his eyes. “She’s something else, huh?”
“She’s something,” I murmur, my gaze following her as she skillfully weaves through the room. She’s confident in her role behind the bar, even if the chaos of the dungeon isn’t something she’s fully comfortable with yet.
“She’s holding her own,” Blaze observes, nodding slightly toward her. “Even after that asshole put his hands on her, she didn’t crumble.”
“She shouldn’t have had to deal with that at all,” I say, my voice sharper than I intended.
Blaze claps a hand on my shoulder, his grip grounding. “We’ll handle it, Steel. You’ll rip his fucking heart out, remember?”
I let out a breath, the weight in my chest easing just a little. “She deserves better than what she’s been used to.”
Blaze smirks, the mischievous glint returning to his eyes. “That’s what we’re here for, isn’t it? To show her she deserves better and give it to her.”
The grin I shoot him is more wolfish than amused. “She’s not going to know what hit her.”
“Damn right,” he laughs, but his expression softens as his gaze drifts back to her. “Think she’ll stick around?”
“She will,” I say with certainty, watching as Raven throws herself back into her work, her smile warm and genuine despite the earlier tension. “She’s stronger than she realizes. She just needs time to see it for herself.”
Blaze hums in agreement, but his focus sharpens as another patron approaches the bar, their interaction with Raven drawing his attention.
“She’s learning fast,” he says.
“She has to,” I reply. “This place is a lot to handle for someone who’s never been part of this world.”
“She’s got more than just the club to navigate,” Blaze points out, his tone shifting to something more thoughtful. “The way she talked about her face blindness... You can see how much it weighs on her. She was frustrated with herself when she didn’t recognize you earlier.”
I nod, my jaw tightening as I remember the frustration in her voice. “She’s overthinking it. Making it bigger than it has to be.”
Blaze quirks an eyebrow at me. “Easy for you to say. You don’t live with it.”
“No,” I admit. “But I’ve seen how she connects things. She’s smart, observant. The way she notices voices, how she focuses on details others overlook... That’s her strength.”
Blaze watches her for a moment, then grins. “Yeah, and if we keep teasing her, she’s going to memorize every single thing about us just to prove a point.”
“That’s the plan,” I say, smirking. “She’s already halfway there, even if she doesn’t realize it yet.”
Raven’s face blindness might slow her down, but it won’t stop her. She’s already figuring us out piece by piece, and when she does, there’ll be no mistaking where she belongs. She’s ours. Whether she realizes it yet or not.
Blaze laughs, low and easy, before straightening. “We’d better go deal with this bastard and get back to work before the natives start complaining again. Let’s see if we can make it through the night without another incident.”
“Unlikely,” I mutter, but I follow him to our office. I’m ready to beat off some of this steam. How dare he fucking touch what belongs to us.