Chapter Two
Rowan
“Thanks for helping.” Sammy handed me a box that was deceptively heavy. “I stayed at my grandparents’ house too long today, and I won’t make it to all the deliveries on time.”
“You didn’t stay at your grandparents’ too long.
You enjoyed lunch with them. That’s the perfect amount of time, and I don’t mind.
” He loved the old couple and didn’t get to see them often enough, thanks to his job.
If getting him the extra time meant I became a delivery guy for an afternoon, I was there for it.
“I’ll take one side of town, you take the other, and we’ll get it done in time to meet up at Chained? How’s that sound, Sammy?”
“Perfect. You’re the best.”
I loaded the last of the boxes into my car and took off for my first stop.
Sammy’s grandparents had a farm up north.
They did berries in the summer, Christmas trees in the winter, and maple syrup in early spring.
At one point, there was a lot more than that, but they were getting older now and kind of stuck to the three seasons and hay.
They’d been talking about one of his cousins taking over and possibly converting some of the hayfields into corn or soybeans, but they’d been doing that for years.
I looked at my delivery order and made a route where I would end up closest to Chained when I was done. There were some times when I was delivering syrup, but today was all about maple sugar, a favorite among quite a few of the bakeries. The first stop, they came out to the car to get it.
At the second bakery, it was a bigger pain than that.
I parked around back. When I went to the loading dock doors and rang the bell, no one answered.
I went around front to see what was happening.
I was immediately taken in by all of the delicious baked goods and saw why I’d been ignored. The place was packed.
“You can bring it in this way if you don’t mind,” the person behind the counter said, only half looking up at me.
Back outside I went and grabbed my backpack for the purchases I’d already decided were a must and their boxes of sugar. This was my biggest order and, in hindsight, I should’ve made two trips because it was heavy.
“I’ll be with you in a bit,” the person behind the counter said, and then another one asked me if I needed a bag or a box. I wasn’t sure if they thought I was a customer or if they wanted to help me be more efficient. Either worked.
I set the boxes down and picked out a cookie, two scones, and a cinnamon bun. I told myself it was to share with Sammy, and I probably would, but it was indulgent even with two of us. I’d fished my wallet out of my backpack to pay, when the baker came from the back room.
“Follow me.”
“Oh, yeah.” I set my purchases down. “I’m gonna leave my pack here, okay?”
“Yeah, sure. No one will touch it.”
I grabbed the boxes and carried them out back.
The place was chaos, and the baker swore they ordered a different quantity.
This meant waiting for them to go find their original email and compare it with the total they were charged and then match it up with what was in the boxes.
It took forever to find out that I had the exact right amount.
Next time, I was taking the other side of town.
I was on my way out the back door when they reminded me that I left my backpack up front with my goodies. I grabbed them both, and off I went to my last three stops before heading into Chained.
There was a time I wouldn’t bring my Chained backpack in anywhere but to the club, afraid somebody might see what was inside.
I’d open it and they’d spy a onesie or cute little shorts, or my nuk, or my bottle or whatever I had that day.
As if people were there with binoculars to see what was inside from across the room or something. I’d long since gotten over that.
My backpack was a really nice one, given to me at my college graduation for my master’s.
It was supposed to be an upscale one for adults, whatever “adult” meant, and apparently was all the rage in certain corporate circles.
It wasn’t like anybody would see it and think, Oh, that’s a little’s backpack.
I used to have one of those, and I loved it.
It fell apart. So did the second one, and after the third, I kind of gave up on them.
I met Sammy in the parking lot where we scarfed down a treat apiece before walking in together.
There was a new person at the counter today.
I’d seen her inside the club but never here.
She had a name tag on, Emily, and was going through the normal check-in routine including securing my phone in the lockers.
No recording devices inside for member privacy and all that.
“I just need to make sure you don’t have any electronics in your backpacks,” she said.
I’d witnessed some members or guests get pissy about it, like the person working the desk was somehow calling them a liar instead of keeping us all protected. I never understood that. It wasn’t as if they only did it at random.
She went through Sammy’s first and then opened mine. “Why did you think you could bring this?” She sounded legit confused.
Her reaction made no sense to me. It was just my clothes, right? I thought back to what I was bringing and couldn’t come up with anything unusual or that somehow didn’t belong here.
Then she picked up a laptop.
“Wait, what?” That wasn’t mine.
I pulled the backpack from her and looked inside. There were no little clothes to be seen, just a computer and files and a fancy pen that probably cost more than everything in my backpack put together.
Fuck.
“Shit, Sammy. That’s not mine.”
“I see that, but how did you get someone else’s? It’s not like people sneak into houses and swap out backpacks?”
“No.” Although, in any other situation, that probably would’ve amused me.
I thought back throughout the day, trying to remember when I might’ve set it down. Then I remembered leaving it in the front of the bakery to bring the sugar back. Shit, double shit, triple shit.
“See if there’s anything that has a name on it,” Sammy said.
My guess was that there was information in the folders, but for all I knew, that was confidential, and I shouldn’t be looking at it. I’d done enough damage already without reading something I shouldn’t have. Eventually, in one of the pockets, I found a business card.
“Looks like I know whose it is now.”
“Do you want to call now?” Sammy asked.
Emily had already moved on to the next member, paying us no mind.
“And say what? ‘Hi, I’m at a kink club. You want to come get your backpack and give me back my kinky clothes?’”
“Yeah, I guess that doesn’t work. Besides, he might think he stole it.”
As if that possibility hadn’t already been running around my head and messing with me. I didn’t know what to do, and my heart was pounding, my head spinning with possibilities including serving a life sentence. It wasn’t logical, but that was what happened when I started to tailspin like this.
Sammy grabbed my wrist, anchoring me to him. Neither of us had a daddy, and sometimes we did daddy things to make our lives easier. Not scenes or anything but small acts like this. “Let’s go inside. We’ll have our night being little and then figure out a plan from there.”
I zipped it back up and handed it to her when she was between members. “Can you put this in my locker too?”
“Sure. Are you okay, though? You look kind of green.”
“I just have visions of going to jail,” I mumbled.
She started to talk, but Sammy increased the pressure on my wrist and said, “Come with me,” and led me away.
This was not how I thought tonight was going to go. Not even close.