23. Serenity
Chapter twenty-three
Serenity
I thought the last month working at The Envelope and my time with Declan would have prepared me for tonight. I've spent more time exploring the back rooms, the red room where the staff work shirtless, and the exhibition rooms.
But it didn't.
The Envelope is hosting their monthly Primal Night.
While the first two hours of my shift are easy, it's when 9 o'clock rolls around that the lights go out and the screams start.
Volkov has been staring at me my entire shift. While not unusual, he's got an extra intensity about it tonight that has the hair on the back of my neck standing on end.
Logically, I know everything is consensual. You don't come to a primal night without the expectation of being chased and dominated. I know every woman here wants to be here. But their screams rip into my heart and soul and send my heartrate sky-high. I can't deliver drinks anymore. I can't tend tables anymore. I'm hyperventilating and my heartrate is erratic. I try to focus when a scream is followed by a menacing growl and the pounding of feet as a man gives chase.
Oh. My. Fucking. God.
It sounds like a horror movie. It looks like a horror movie.
My eyes widen as I try to take in the room around me. The bars are backlit with dimmed light so I can see them, and vaguely the outlines of chairs and tables, but then a black figure dashes past me, and I jump, a small scream escaping my tightening throat.
I nervously run to Benji's bar and hide behind it, chest heaving, breaths sawing in and out of my lungs. I can't breathe. My heart races. I'm having a panic attack.
A chair overturns somewhere nearby, and I startle again, squeezing my eyes shut and clasping my hands over my ears.
"Ser?" Benji's words are muffled, underwater, and I can't reply.
"Shit." A moment later. "Boss, I think something's wrong with Serenity."
I focus on my breathing until another scream, a thump, and then skin slapping against skin makes my eyes water and my body tremble. I've never been sexually assaulted, and I logically know the women aren't being hurt. But this is every one of my nightmares wrapped into one, painful moment.
"Shit." Declan's voice has my eyes springing open. Together we reach for each other. He's become my safe place. The only person who sees me as something other than defective.
He presses his hands against mine, signaling me to keep them over my ears. He tucks me against his side, and I turn my face into his suit jacket. The smell and warmth of him have me relaxing just a bit.
I'm ushered to his room where he shuts and locks the door behind him. I lower my hands and stare at him, waiting for him to make it better. There's a loud bang on the door as a body or two falls into it and I jump again, a small whimper escaping. I reach for him, fisting his lapels in my hands.
"Fuck!" Declan spits out before his large hand wraps around my neck, and he pushes my back against the wall next to him. He's so close our noses could touch.
He's not hurting me, but the hand around my throat has brought all of my attention to the skin-on-skin contact and the scowling man in front of me.
"My eyes, Ser. Look at my eyes." Deep forest-green irises look back at me. From this close, I can see black, blue and even gold flecks. They're gorgeous. And I feel my body relaxing and my breaths evening out. I have one purpose, and that's to obey.
"That's it, baby. You're doing so good for me. Deep breath in, deep breath out."
My blood pressure drops at his praise at the same time as my panties dampen. That's it baby, you're doing so good for me. I would do anything, anything for this man's praise.
I follow his breaths as he walks me through it. The horror happening outside this room seems further away, unable to touch me. Declan won't let anyone hurt me. He's protected me before, I know he'd do it again. And giving up that fear does something to me. It feels like a weight lifts off of my chest.
"Kneel."
I don't hesitate a millisecond before I drop to my knees for him, head cast down, palms up, like I'd seen others in the club do. It's pure submission. I don't know how he knew I needed this, but I do. To give up my fear, my stress, my anxiety to someone else. To submit and know that I can trust him to take care of me. My chest vibrates with happy nerves this time and grateful tears gather on my cheeks. For the first time in maybe my entire life my brain quiets, as if it knows it doesn't have to overthink every tiny interaction. It doesn't have to wonder about the history of kinks or subs and doms or the psychology behind it. It doesn't have to wonder if he really likes me or not. It doesn't have to obsess over the last time I was socially awkward and convince me no one could truly like me.
I may be crying, but a smile spreads across my lips.
Declan caresses the back of my hair affectionately when he notices my tears. "Ser?"
I lean into the contact, before looking up at him, a serene smile on my face. "Yes, sir?"
He frowns; his brows furrowed. He looks like he wants to say a million things, but when another woman screams, and I press my forehead against his slacks-covered thigh, he shifts gears. The hand not on my head digs his phone out of his pocket.
"I'm having Joseph come and get you. You shouldn't be working tonight. I'm sorry I didn't think of it earlier."
I know, as a sub, I'm not technically supposed to initiate anything, but I can't help myself. I need more touch, more contact. I slide one hand around his pant cuff and up his dress socks to touch his calf. I run my hand gently up and down the inside of his calf, reveling in the feel of him.
His conversation with Joseph seems far away as I'm lost in the euphoria of this moment. He's holding my head tenderly. I'm touching him in the way he only lets me touch him these last two months. I've watched women approach him in The Envelope, but he has politely declined any advances. And my fears and panic attack are long forgotten. I'm safe in this submission. I'm safe, and cared for, and maybe for the first time in my life I feel like I can breathe. That I'm not carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. Like every decision I make isn't life or death. Food or starvation. God, is this how the rest of the world feels? It's freeing. It's enlivening. It's addictive.
"Stand up. Joseph's at the door."
I do gratefully, eyes still cast down. After everything he's done for me, I'll submit. I'll be good. I'll be the best sub he's ever had. I'll make him happy.
Declan turns, unlocks his office door and while I expected Joseph to be at the front door, he's here, at Declan's door.
"Take her home. Make sure she's safe," he commands.
"You're not coming?"
I know it's a dumb question, the second it leaves my mouth, but this has been our routine. We leave together. It feels wrong to leave my shift early. It feels wrong to leave him.
"I'll be home shortly. I have to stay in case there's any first aid or complaints tonight."
I frown. I don't like the idea of him kissing someone's boo-boos or fielding complaints. But I also acknowledge I'm not in my right mindset. He's the boss, and while I'll miss him, I trust he knows what needs to be done.
We should have a conversation soon about him touching other female customers. I don't like the green, envious feelings it evokes in my stomach. But right now, I'm still riding the high of submitting to him, of giving up my control, my power, my need for self-preservation, and of how freeing that submission feels.
Numbly, I follow Joseph as he escorts me out. We drive home and he walks me to the door, and I let myself in. I wish him a good night, before doing my normal nighttime routine. It feels weird knowing I'm the only person in the house, but it helps to make it feel more like my own. I know Declan said he wanted me to feel like this house was my home, but tonight is the first time it's felt partially mine. I could go anywhere in this house. I could do anything. I could run around it naked or cook an omelet. The freedom is intoxicating after submitting to Declan an hour ago.
Instead, I want to be his good girl. I shower, sticking to the freesia shampoo. I love the way it smells when it mingles with whatever Declan uses. I don't know what freesia is... a flower maybe? But none of the other scents felt like 'me'. I shower, and since Declan's not home to give me his shirt and boxers, I curl up in his bed fully naked and wrap his comforter around me. I love the mixture of my freesia scent with his own woodsy, musky scent. It smells like an enchanted forest.
I fall asleep with a smile on my face.