of righting it, boy.”
“She doesn’t want to talk to me.”
Braun grunted. “You’re a Dom, Liam. You’ve earned your stripes on the battlefield of men and women; you know how to deal with a stubborn woman. If she doesn’t want to talk, you make her fucking listen.”
A laugh rumbled free. “Sneaky, boss.”
He lifted one broad shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “Been called worse.”
“I bet.”
Braun frowned as his phone signaled a security alert. The doors were unlocked as both he and Liam were inside the club, but he’d left the alerts on so he knew who was on the property in the hours before official opening.
He’d renovated the small farm on the outskirts of Phoenix to his exact specifications. The farmhouse was his personal space and off limits to members, but the rest of the farm was utilized for play purposes. With three buildings and five acres of land designed to keep his clientele happy, he’d had a lot of fun—and frustrations—coming up with fresh ideas.
Like the corn maze in summer. Setting the subbies loose with a headstart into the sheer acreage of twisting corridors and dead ends was great fun, especially when it was booby-trapped with a whole host of Dominants on the inside and a team of pursuing Masters on the submissives’ heels.
Being thirty minutes outside the city limits meant very few visitors just popped by on a whim. Privacy and member safety were his top priority.
“Want me to go check it out?” Liam asked, recognizing the alert.
Braun smiled and wondered if his errand earlier that day had paid off already. He ran his tongue over his teeth and shook his head. “Nope. Door’s open if they want to come in.” He glanced around idly. Most of the hardcore equipment was in the other barns, although there were a few questionable items of BDSM furniture in here if someone looked carefully enough. “The other areas are still locked up tight. If we’ve got a snoop, they won’t find anything to write home about.”
“Your call.” Liam picked up his cloth and resumed polishing the remaining glasses still waiting for attention. “Thanks for the talk, Braun. Maybe I’ll pay Bodie a visit tomorrow.”
Braun’s lips twitched as he heard the main door squeak open. With one eye on the entryway, he waited. Normally the doors to the sign-in area were closed but through the day, he liked to have the main doors and inner doors propped open while his cleaning crew were busy to let fresh air sweep through. The main doors were shut when the crew left in the early afternoon, and the internal doors closed before opening hours.
A small figure eased into view, looking timid and radiating nerves.
“Don’t think that’s gonna be necessary, boy.” Braun lifted his drink, sipped slowly as the woman inched into the club bit by bit. Raising his voice, he called out, “C’mon in, little one. We don’t bite.”
There was a soft gasp as she recognized his voice, clever little minx. “You!”
“Boadicea? What are you doing here?” The love and surprise in Liam’s voice was lovely to hear. No matter what had been said in frustration, the boy’s feelings toward his friend hadn’t changed in the slightest. “I’ve tried calling you, messaging you, but...wait, you know Braun? What the hell?”
Braun didn’t move a muscle, waiting to see what the shy mouse would do next. He watched her from the corner of his eye as she struggled to cast off the nerves and stand tall enough to exhibit some degree of confidence.
Liam was right; she wasn’t a naturally confident individual.
“I-I’m not here to see you.” The words were shaky, but she managed to spit them out. Her footfalls were tentative, quiet on the wooden floor, which told Braun she knew how to tread so she wouldn’t be noticed. Too bad for her she was already on his radar. “I came to find the man who gave me something earlier, and he’s sitting right there.”
“What did you do, Fitzpatrick?”
Smiling quietly, Braun cocked his head. “You’ve been a miserable bastard, William, for a fortnight. Members have expressed their concerns and I decided it was time for one of you two to make a move toward reconciling this shitshow. So, I paid a visit to your ballerina over here and left the rest to chance.”
Bodie had come close enough for the scent of blueberries and lilies to drift on the air. Not strongly, it was quite faint, and didn’t quite mask the odor of despair. “Why did you do this?”
He looked