waiting for Lee to arrive. I clutched my phone in my hand, knowing that any second he would call. My phone was both my lifeline and my curse.
And it was all Carson’s fault.
I nodded at Cinder. “Yep, this is all Carson’s fault. Every little bit of it.”
I’d been stunned, to say the least, when Carson had arrived at the coffee shop. There was no way he’d randomly walked in, so I’d known I had Lee to blame for his appearance. When he’d apologized and had then asked to speak privately, I’d agreed, wanting to break things off for good without hurting Lee’s feelings.
Ever since the game and my panic attack, Lee and I had been walking on eggshells with each other. I’d been waiting for him to bring it up again, and he’d been waiting on me to freak out on him. Worst of all, I still hadn’t worked up the courage to tell him that I wouldn’t be joining them next time or ever again. We’d been stuck in a weird limbo, and I’d seen no way out.
It was just that I’d known he’d have questions, questions I wasn’t going to answer.
Why don’t you want to go? Did you not have a good time? You seemed to be enjoying the game. It is about what happened in the bathroom? You said it wasn’t about something someone did. Did someone say something to you to make you feel uncomfortable? Did Carson do something? Do I need to beat someone up for you?
A giggle escaped at the thought of Lee trying to beat up Carson. All I could imagine was Lee as a tiny mouse beating against the leg of a massive lion, while Carson as said lion stared down at the mouse in amusement.
I sobered, thinking back to our private conversation and everything that had happened in the break room. I’d figured my own apology would go a long way to smoothing things over. And I was sorry. I knew my panic attacks and fears were my problem, not Carson’s and not Red’s. I knew I couldn’t project my fears onto everyone I met.
Nate wasn’t Neil.
Carson wasn’t Neil.
Neil was Neil, and he was the only one responsible.
Then Carson had called me out on my sidestepping of the issue. The look of compassion and understanding on his face when he’d finished his little speech had said everything.
He’d known. That a single word had triggered my panic attack. That that word had a special meaning to me to cause such a reaction. That my reaction didn’t mean good things for me.
Carson was a smart man, and all the signs were there. I’d gone through the lists myself, checking off box after box. Carson, a man who appeared to be heavily entrenched in the lifestyle, would have known what to look for, would have been hyperaware of the signs because the lines between dominance and abuse were so easy to blur if one wasn’t careful.
And Neil had never been careful.
Of course, all that had sent me spiraling into another panic attack.
But Carson had been there. He’d helped me through it, his calm words a soothing balm. I’d known then and there, while he held my hand to his chest, that he’d be a good Daddy to a little.
“Not that I’m a little,” I said quickly to Cinder. “I used to be a little. I was a little. I’m not a little anymore. Nope. No littles here. And I’m not looking for a Daddy. Nope. No Daddies for me.”
But his hug. I couldn’t get it out of my mind. He’d been so warm and strong, like a pillar that would never crumble. I stopped pacing and wrapped my arms around myself, remembering the way he’d rocked me. Closing my eyes, I tried humming the same song he had but grew frustrated when I couldn’t remember exactly how it went and resumed my pacing.
After work, I’d rushed home and curled up under my blankets. With nothing but a suspicion, I’d pulled up the web browser on my phone and had searched for the nearest BDSM clubs. The first page had been a bust. Or so I had thought. Right in the middle between a random forum post and a website for a club that looked like it had gone out of business years prior, I’d noticed a simple link with two words: The Church.
And like a dummy that couldn’t help themselves, I’d clicked on it.
It had been a simple website. Done in black and white,