26. Who Are You?
~ brIDGET ~
“So, Bridget,” Ronald said quietly. “I await your cutting commentary with baited breath.”
I stared at him, my body thrumming and my mind spinning. I couldn’t decide whether I’d just seen something horrifically fucked up, or… really, really cool.
“What did you do to them?”
Ronald arched one brow and walked towards me, still rubbing his hands on that little cloth. “You saw everything I did—”
“No, before. They were all… they were all in some kind of trance or whatever. What did you do?”
His lips pulled up on one side. “When I assess a person, Bridget, I’m exploring whether they’re ready for this—having their boundaries willingly breached. I discuss with them what happens here, and see if they can be hypnotized. And if they can, I do not change their minds. Without any hypnosis in place, I tell them what I am willing to do, and ask them if that’s what they want. Their waivers are personalized to their personal fears, goals, and boundaries, and they sign a new one every time they enter this den. They come to me because we’ve already discussed what I will do to them if they are chosen.”
“So, some of them come and you never work with them?”
Ronald snorted. “Many of them never work with me. Some of them lose their nerve and stop showing up. Others get too demanding and get banned. But most… most will have their moment if they keep showing up and play by the rules.”
I swallowed as he mounted the shallow stairs alongside the seats and started up, his eyes locked on mine like a cat on a bird.
“You didn’t assess me,” I said breathlessly as he came to stand at the end of my row.
He nodded once. “You weren’t ready.”
“Then why did you let me in?”
“Because… you’re one of the ones who needed to see what I do. You’re chaos, Bridget. I’m not going to have you freak out and steal my future from me.”
“What? I wouldn’t do that. If I don’t like something I just leave—”
He edged up the narrow space between the rows of seats until he stood right at my knee, then he stared down his nose at me, his eyes piercing and intent, like he was examining me.
“One thing I don’t allow in here is lies, Bridget,” he said darkly. “There is freedom in truth—even dark truth. The world you’re living in doesn’t understand that. They’re so busy pushing everything under rugs, or into closets, or renaming it to make it more palatable and pretend it isn’t what it is… they never let themselves learn how much freedom comes from just admitting the truth.
Then he leaned down, one hand each on the arms of my chair, his eyes locked on mine, and his breath fluttering across my face.
He smelled like mint and smug-satisfaction.
“I understand the world, and I can play by the rules. But this is my house. And here we don’t bullshit ourselves, or anyone else.”
I swallowed. “I wasn’t—”
“Your head is so chaotic you throw yourself into danger on purpose, then scream when the monster comes after you.”
“Are you the monster, Ronald?” I asked seriously, because there was still a part of me that wondered if he was Cain.
“Only if you need me to be,” he said, then smiled.
I should have rolled my eyes.
I should have made a joke about monster sex requiring multiple-peens, or some kind of tentacle that could knot inside me and pound me stomach-first.
I should have sneered and told him he wasn’t the first Dom I’d known and wouldn’t be the last, and his little tricks were intriguing, but not truly earth-shattering.
But I couldn’t make my voice work. And the fucker just stood there, all up in my space, and waited. And out of nowhere, my skin began to itch.
“I’m going to leave now,” I said, suddenly deeply uncomfortable.
He tipped his head. “Are you?
I nodded.
“Okay.”
He didn’t move. And neither did I.
And then he was smiling again. “Ask me, Bridget.”
“Ask you what?”
“Whatever secrets your clever little mind is trying to uncover. Ask me.”
Are you Cain?
Is this a set up?
What would you do to me if I said yes?
“I don’t believe in coincidences,” I said hoarsely.
“Neither do I,” he said in a voice so deep I felt it in the soles of my shoes. “Ask your questions, Bridget.”
“I… Have we met before?”
“Not that I know of—not until the other night at the bar.”
“Were you the one who came at me in the hallway outside the bathroom?”
“No.”
I blinked and eased my head back. “You said you didn’t lie.” Something else that Cain had emphasized.
Ronald’s eyes went flinty again. “I don’t. Your mob friend came for you. I was watching from the bar to see if you could handle yourself when your boyfriend showed up.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“You might want to tell him that.”
I huffed and a little of the tension left me, but Ronald’s face got tighter.
“Ask me, Bridget. Or if you prefer, tell me. Tell me what you need. If it’s not me, I’ll tell you.”
The strange, high laugh that came out of me then sounded almost insane in that empty, echoing room.
He was still leaned over me, both thick, man-hands clasped on those arms, and his arms locked as surely as his eyes. If I tried to run, he’d have me. That woman he’d taken was inches taller than me, and strong. Ronald wasn’t a weak man. But that wasn’t what scared me.
That was when I realized this sleek version of him was different. He’d taken out most of his piercings. He’d flattened his hair down. He was dressed not for attention, but to emphasize his body.
When I’d seen him at the bar, he’d seemed ridiculous. Now he seemed much more deadly—but less himself.
And just like that, I was done.
“I don’t trust you,” I said bluntly.
His brows pinched over his nose. “I’ve never spoken a false word to you.”
I shrugged. “Maybe not, but… I don’t trust you. There’s something in you that sets off all my alarms and I trust my instincts. I grew up with a monster. I learned how they hide. And you, sir, are hiding something .”
He didn’t like that at all. His jaw jutted out and he pushed off the arms of my chair, turning away and stalking towards the door, grabbing that cloth again and rubbing the sweat off the back of his own neck.
“You never came,” I said, like it made sense.
He shrugged, but broke eye-contact. “I have three or four shows a night. I need to keep my… energy up.”
I shook my head. “That’s not why.”
“Oh really?” he snarled. “What childish, jacked up insight do you have to offer, Bridget? I’m all ears.”
“It’s a loss of control,” I said, more confident with every word.
He rolled his eyes. “I’m a Dom. Control is what we do.”
“Nah. You’re… you’re not a Dom. A true Dom is playing out their own fantasies, not someone else’s.”
“You don’t get to define words for me. Especially if you aren’t willing to play the game.”
“See,” I said, pushing him and swearing at myself because I really needed to just leave. “You call it a game. It’s not a fucking game for some of us.”
He frowned. “You’re a switch?”
“No, that’s not what I meant—I meant… You say you’re telling the truth here, but the reality is, other people are telling you their truth, and you’re using it.”
“I’m helping them with it, actually.”
“That’s such bullshit. If you believe that, you’re stupider than I thought.” He opened his mouth but I kept going. “Penny didn’t heal from her brother’s rape just because you brought her to orgasm.”
He sneered “I’ll be sure to ask her when she comes back and asks me to take her again.”
“I didn’t say she didn’t enjoy it. I said she didn’t heal. Now the next time she wants that because it felt good, she doesn’t have any way to process the fact that it’s also connected to the memory that fucks her up. This isn’t facing fears, it’s twisting trauma. In the long run—”
“Get out,” he snarled, turning away to start towards the stairs. “I’ve got another show in an hour and I need to eat.”
I launched myself out of the seat and down the opposite aisle, rushing so I’d be ahead of him.
“Coward,” he muttered, just as I reached the entrance to the hallway that would take me out of that place.
I stopped dead, pissed with myself for flinching at the barb, but I turned and frowned at him.
“I’m the coward?” I challenged, aware that I was slowly inching back along that hallway, every instinct screaming at me to get away from this guy.
“You heard me.”
“You’re literally playing on people’s fear to make them admire you.”
His expression went dark and he started towards me. “You’re an idiot if you think I didn’t help those bitches break through fear. You saw—”
“I saw you push them past their boundaries—”
“Which they agreed to!”
“—but do absolutely nothing to help them beat the reason they were afraid in the first place.”
“I’m not a fucking therapist.”
“No. You aren’t.”
Neither was I. But I was regurgitating things Gerald had confronted me about in my own behavior. He would have been proud of me, I thought.
“Goodbye, Bridget,” he growled, stopping at the edge of the hallway, scowling.
“Goodbye, Sid.”
“Don’t try to come back, I’m adding your name to the banned list.”
“Now who’s the coward?” I snapped, then turned on my heel. It took everything in my body not to flee. To make myself stay at a walking pace. Ears perked, heightened senses, everything aware, listening, waiting for movement behind me, or the rush of air, or pounding footsteps… until I reached the very normal looking door and clasped the cool metal of the handle, pushed it down and stepped out into the blood red lounge of Vigorí .
My heart was slamming in my chest.
But no one came after me as I darted through the space and towards the exit.
I’d had enough thrill for tonight.