Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Law
This was not how he’d seen his night going. Law’s heart felt as if it was going to pound right out of his chest as his blood pumped through him in pure rage. It was as though he’d left his vaunted self-control in the Dungeon, along with any patience he had.
When he’d finally found Iris, right as she’d screamed ‘Red,’ he had been too late to do anything but stop the unknown from lashing out at her. He was still shaking from the adrenaline dump and had nowhere for the energy to go. Plowing his fist into the man’s face seemed appropriate.
Jared and Kincaid, both on DM duty, decided to take everyone up to Patrick’s office rather than continuing the confrontation in the Dungeon.
Iris and Rae, who had been allowed to come along as a witness, were standing on one side of Patrick’s desk, glaring at the asshole Dom while Kincaid stood next to the man.
Behind the desk, Patrick had his arms crossed over his chest as he listened to the ‘Dom’ finish up his version of events. Truthfully, the submissives didn’t even need to talk for everyone to know the man was a self-important jerk.
“I demand some kind of punishment for the interruption of my scene.” The man glared at Iris, raking his hand arrogantly through his hair. “And an apology from your Dungeon Monitors for indulging this nonsense.”
“It’s not nonsense,” Master Kincaid said before Law could speak up, which was probably for the best.
His infamous self-control hanging by a thread, Law clenched his jaw even tighter to keep from unloading on the asshole.
“You were about to hit Iris with your cane. Regardless of whether or not she interrupted her scene, that is a clear infraction of the club rules. You do not strike a submissive you have not negotiated a scene with, no matter what they’ve done.”
“And you don’t hit a submissive after they’ve safe worded, which your submissive did,” Iris shot out, rather than keeping her mouth shut.
Unlike Law, she didn’t have a problem speaking impulsively.
He shot her a look. It was better if the Dom hung himself with his own rope, but she wasn’t looking at him. “You ignored her safeword.”
“My sub doesn’t have a safeword. She doesn’t need one.”
Red clouded Law’s vision, and if it wasn’t for the door opening to allow Master Jared and the submissive in question to come in, Law wasn’t sure what he would have done.
The asshole didn’t realize it, but he was definitely out of the club.
He was clearly taking Patrick’s silence as encouragement to keep talking, not as the judgment it was.
Everyone turned to look at the woman, who was tucked under Master Jared’s arm.
Despite being one of the tallest and most muscular Doms in the club, subs were instinctively drawn to Jared, as though they could sense he was a protector at heart, and this sub was no exception.
Wrapped in a blanket that covered her completely except for her bare feet, she was clinging to his side, her head down, staring at the ground.
From the way Jared glared at the wannabe Dom as they stepped inside, this would be over with quickly.
Thank God.
Because Law felt…
There weren’t words for how he felt.
Out of control was the least of it.
About to crash headfirst into something he didn’t want to.
If he held his hands out in front of him, he was sure they’d be shaking. A need had risen inside him, as if a demon he’d shoved in a deep, dark cave had gotten loose and was moving up from his stomach to his throat, demanding to be let out.
Demanding to be appeased.
This is why I never say I’m recovered.
He couldn’t think about that right now.
Focus. Focus. Focus.
Once they got this over with, he could get out of here and take Iris with him. Get her away from the asshole and reassure himself she was all right. Then, hopefully, he’d feel more like himself. The ‘him’ he wanted to be.
Master Jared maneuvered the submissive around the jerk Dom, keeping his body between them. The man actually moved toward her before Master Jared’s glare drove him back. He faltered, understanding dawning on his face as he finally realized he didn’t have a single ally in the room.
“Hey, I didn’t do anything wrong! She agreed to no safeword. It’s in our contract.”
The submissive sniffled. Law couldn’t see her around Master Jared, but he was pretty sure she was crying by the way Rae and Iris moved to the side not taken by the big Dom, both of them speaking in low, comforting voices. Asshole glared, but he didn’t intervene.
Master Patrick got to his feet.
The asshole was smart enough to realize he’d fucked up.
Paling, he took a step back as Master Patrick crossed his arms over his chest. Both Patrick and Jared were over six feet tall, and while Law wasn’t intimidated by their greater height, the asshole definitely was.
Something Patrick took immediate advantage of, looming over dickhead.
“There is a club safeword, Don.” Master Patrick’s voice was low, lethal.
He’d deliberately left off ‘Master.’ “One which you agreed to honor when you signed the contract to join the club. Not only that, but while agreeing not to have a safeword is a perfectly legitimate choice, someone who does it in order to push their submissive beyond what they can take is not a Dom. They are an abuser.”
“No, I—”
“Wouldn’t you agree, Detective Kincaid?”
Asshole Don’s head snapped around so fast, it was a wonder he didn’t crack his neck as his eyes widened in horror.
“D-D-Detective?”
Kincaid nodded as Patrick continued.
“That’s right, and one of my lawyers. Master Law, are BDSM contracts legally binding in court?”
Law snorted. Seeing how freaked out Asshole Don was helped soothe his swirling emotions. It wasn’t near what the jerk deserved, but it was something.
“No, no, they’re not. In addition, a personal contract would not supersede the membership contract he signed with Stronghold, which actually is legally binding.
As you said, a true Dom, whose submissive doesn’t have a safeword, would carefully watch that submissive to ensure they weren’t pushed beyond their limits.
Abusers, such as Don here, use it as an excuse to abuse. ”
Iris
Holy shit, Master Law was hot when he was lawyering. If it wasn’t for how serious the situation was and how pissed off she was on behalf of the woman whose shoulder she was rubbing as comfortingly as she could, she would be totally turned on watching Master Law take down Douchebag Don.
Granted, he wasn’t the only one, but he was still the hottest one. There was no way Douchebag Don was getting off the hook, but what made it even better was the Doms were letting him have it, in no uncertain terms, so even if the message didn’t get through, both he and his submissive heard it.
“Now, Master Kincaid will escort you out. You are not welcome back here. Your membership fees will be refunded.” Master Patrick bit off the end of his words, his glare hot.
Douchebag Don seemed to rally a little, his chin lifting in belligerent defiance.
“Fine. Cassidy, come here.” He snapped his fingers.
Snapped. His. Fingers.
Iris clamped her hand around Cassidy’s shoulder. No fucking way was she letting the woman go off with him. She didn’t care what the Doms had to say about it.
Thankfully, they weren’t having any of it, either. Master Jared had already shifted his body, so he was between Cassidy and Douchebag Don.
“Cassidy is going to stay here for a chat with me,” Master Patrick said.
He paused, turning to look at her. She shivered against Iris, and Iris and Rae squeezed her a little tighter.
Master Patrick’s gaze softened, as did his voice.
“Unless there’s something at his house you need to retrieve? We can send someone with him.”
“N-No…” For the first time since she’d cried ‘red,’ Cassidy seemed to have found her voice, shaky but present. Her hand found Iris’ and squeezed, hanging on for dear life. “There’s nothing there, and I don’t want to go with him.”
“You—”
Iris peeked around Master Jared to see Douchebag cut off as Master Kincaid’s hand landed on his shoulder in a very different grip than Iris’ and Rae’s on Cassidy. Douchebag’s face was turning red again.
“Trust me, you want to leave her alone.” Master Jared’s voice was colder than Iris had ever heard it. “Do not contact her again… or you will regret it.”
“Let’s go,” Kincaid said, pushing Douchebag toward the exit, keeping a firm grip on his shoulder.
The man glanced back but didn’t say anything else. His jaw seemed to have locked into place. Apparently, he’d finally decided to show some sense and keep his mouth shut. Too little, too late, but Iris didn’t mind that he’d talked himself into a corner.
She hadn’t even had to say anything. He’d obviously thought he had the right to do whatever he wanted, and neither she nor anyone else should have stopped him. Fucking dickweed. He was an abuser, pure and simple, hiding under the banner of kink and thinking that made him safe.
Iris had heard about it, though this was her first time encountering it. Guys like him were why Andrew had insisted she come to Stronghold, even though it was uncomfortable as siblings belonging to the same kink club. He’d been worried she’d encounter an asshole like this.
Even here at Stronghold, a few slipped through now and then.
Cassidy kept her head down as the door closed behind Douchebag and Kincaid, her long, dark hair falling to either side of her head to keep her face hidden. As soon as the door shut, she sighed with relief.
Master Patrick picked up the phone on his desk and pushed a button.
“Lexie, I need you back here, please.” He hung up as soon as he finished speaking, without waiting for her to reply.
“Cassidy, please have a seat. Law, Iris, Rae… thank you all so much for helping her out. Iris, I know I told you not to interfere… in this case, I will eat my words and say you weren’t wrong.
Lexie and I will take it from here. Oh, and if you see Morgan, can you send her in here? ”
The abrupt dismissal chafed, but Cassidy was the priority, and as Lexie came bursting in the door, Iris nodded. She got it. Patrick telling her she wasn’t wrong to interfere meant more than he could know.
“What’s going on?” Lexie asked, hurrying over to the desk.
Clearly, she’d figured out something was wrong—it wasn’t often Patrick was abrupt when talking with her.
That he had been so short on the phone had been a major sign something big was up.
Plus, she’d been at the front desk when Kincaid escorted Douchebag from the building.
“Come on, ladies,” Law said, gesturing to Rae and Iris. Cassidy had already moved away from them and sat down, clutching the blanket around her, head still down. As much as Iris wanted to stay, it didn’t seem as though Cassidy cared if she did. When she looked at Law, she didn’t argue.
There was an odd expression on his face, and his jaw was clenched, similar to how Douchebag’s had been.
Now that Cassidy was in good hands, Iris should find out what was going on to make him look that way.
Coming in to find her in the middle of an altercation with a Dom was definitely not how she’d wanted him to first see her tonight.
She knew he wouldn’t blame her, Douchebag was clearly at fault, but Law looked as if he was struggling with someone.
So, while Rae grumbled as they were led out of Patrick’s office—Iris was pretty sure she heard her say something about Morgan—Iris didn’t argue. She was curious why Patrick wanted Morgan there, but she was more worried about whatever was going on with Law.
Law
Going back to the bar wasn’t the best move for Law’s current state, but on the other hand, it was the only move unless he was going to go out the front door on the heels of the asshole. Not something he wanted to do. Besides, he still needed to talk to Iris and find Morgan if he could.
He knew why Patrick wanted Morgan’s presence while talking to Cassidy and inwardly agreed she’d likely be able to help a great deal.
What he really wanted to do was get the fuck out of Stronghold until he could get control of himself again.
Thankfully, Morgan was sitting in the Lounge area with some of her friends. Keeping Iris’ hand in his, he pulled her over to send Morgan to Patrick’s office. Rae was already moving toward where Domi and the others still were, a bit of a flounce in her step.
“Excuse me, ladies. Morgan, Patrick needs you in his office... please.” Law knew his voice was brusque, sharper than he wanted it to be, but he couldn’t soften it anymore.
He felt as though he was holding onto himself by his fingernails, and they were going to break at any moment.
He didn’t know what would happen then but doubted it would be good.
He needed to get out of here.
“Of course, Master Law.” Morgan hopped up, giving her friends a wave before hurrying along. Her friends looked curious, but they didn’t get the chance to ask what was going on.
Law was already moving, still holding Iris’ hand—except she was pulling back against him.
“Woah, Master Law, wait. Where are we going?”
Coming to a halt, he turned to face her. He could see the worry in her eyes but couldn’t do anything about his expression. It felt tight on his face as though his skin was stretched over his skull.
“Hey, it’s okay—let’s go over to the bar and talk about it.
” Iris’ expression turned comforting, her tone soothing, dark eyes filled with sympathy.
She put her free hand on the outside of his, so she was holding his hand with both of hers as her fingers gently stroked his skin.
“We can have a drink, hang out, and talk things over.”
Have a drink.
She didn’t know how badly he wanted to.
No idea.
Because he hadn’t told her the full truth about his past.
The words wouldn’t come now, either.
It felt as if someone had wired his jaw shut, and there was a roaring in his ears, drowning out all the other sounds around them.
He couldn’t think.
He couldn’t breathe.
Bands were tightening around his chest, locking on and squeezing the air out of his lungs.
Get out. Get out now.
It wasn’t a thought; it was an impulse.
He jerked his hand away from hers, seeing only a flash of her shocked expression as he turned and rushed from the room without her.