in suggestions for jobs. Atticus mentioned the idea of going back to school, furthering her education. Reclaiming some of the rites of passage stolen from her when Abraham forbade her to leave the house and removed all her means of escape.
Alicia seemed to consider it, and so did Bodie.
Dance had been her everything, her all, for as long as she could remember. Through all the physical therapy sessions, her goal hadn’t been to just strengthen her leg and achieve a fraction of her previous fitness. No, she’d thrown herself into them to prove everyone wrong about losing the thing she thought she couldn’t live without.
Only now, there was something—someone—she really couldn’t live without.
Braun was the focal point of her existence. Master, lover, friend. Life with him was more rewarding than any dance, just as exhilarating and risky. When he was near her, she didn’t need a sound system to hear music. When he touched her, her blood pumped as energetically as it did after a grueling performance.
Maybe she should think about going to college, forging her own path now the way was clear. Coming home to him every night would always be the highlight of her day. Maybe...she hesitated to think it, what with the people she came from, but maybe he wanted kids. A family.
Bodie looked around the seating pit, at the circle of friends gathered around her. Friends who welcomed her sister into the heart of them as quickly and completely as they had done with her. She smiled, grateful for them in so many ways she couldn’t describe.
Kids or not, this was her family. Braun’s family.
Their family.
She was home.
Chapter Eighteen
Dawn shimmered over the horizon as the last car disappeared down the drive. Pearly pinks and the palest of purples merged in the sky among the soft gray, with blue beginning to peak through.
A good morning, still and quiet, with barely a breeze to disturb the peace.
Braun stood in the doorway to Avalon for a moment longer, listening to the birds sing their chorus. With the long night behind him—one of the best in his recollection—he was looking forward to the new day.
Every new day, he thought with a tired smile. What was there to not look forward to? His club was thriving, his lovely subbie was on the mend and would no doubt improve now they’d rekindled their sexual relationship, and he had hopes for a future with her that involved wedding rings and strollers.
Meeting Alicia had answered a lot of his questions about what Bodie had gone through—the girl certainly wasn’t afraid to share what went on behind closed doors. Unlike Bodie, Alicia seemed to realize the value of talking instead of repressing the bad shit in her life, and Braun was under the impression the strong, resilient girl would let nothing stand in the way of what she wanted in life...once she got a handle on what that was.
He stepped back inside and closed the door, walking into the club to gather his exhausted subbie and take her home to sleep the night off. She’d had a glass of wine or two—not much by most standards, but his Boadicea turned out to be a lightweight in the alcohol department.
Wine combined with an emotionally fraught evening and topped off with a dollop of whipped cream that was intense, implosive sex left him with a slightly tipsy, fatigued submissive in desperate need of a bed and ten hours’ sleep.
Only, he discovered, his subbie wasn’t where he’d left her.
Movement on stage caught his eye, and Braun swallowed sickly as his heart catapulted into his throat. What the fuck was she doing up there? She wasn’t supposed to be tackling steps by herself yet, her balance on those damn crutches wasn’t brilliant going up or down.
He moved closer, quietly. If she thought she would be a smartass and dance with her leg in a cast, he’d tan her backside before she went to bed. That is, if she didn’t land herself back in hospital beforehand.
Bodie stood in the middle of the space, braced on her crutches. Head tipped back to the ceiling while she faced the empty bar. Low light from the wall sconces barely kissed her face, but it was enough for him to see the turmoil written over her features.
Part peace, part distress.
She missed the stage. The dance.
Braun walked up the stairs and slipped into the alcove where the music system was stored. Bodie had reorganized everything up here to her specifications, shifting things around to suit