Page 65 of Britain

“Back to work, show’s over,” I announce to everyone, and they scatter.

In the locker room, I pull out my phone and text Mom and Beth to let them know they better get here.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Silas

I flinch when Britain wipes at the blood that’s clearly all over my face. I’ve been in fights before, but that was as a kid. I’m still trying to figure out what the fuck happened. My girl hasn’t stopped crying since we got home, and that’s when I realize that I haven’t ever seen her cry.

Her brother humiliated her in front of their co-workers, and that pisses me off more than anything. Fuck, I didn’t even get a chance to defend myself before Britain was getting us out of there. I would’ve driven us, but my right eye swelled shut.

Britain hands me a couple of ibuprofen and some water and has me lie back, placing an ice pack on my face. I pull her down on the couch with me, holding her while sobs wrack her body.

“Shhh…baby, I’m okay. Once everyone settles down, we’ll explain to them about our lifestyle, and then they’ll understand.”

“N-No, the t-time to ask questions was before Marcus hit you, before he told everyone I was almost m-m-molested.” She buries her face in my chest and I wrap her in my arms. “I will never forgive them for this.”

We lie together on the couch until I feel her body go slack against mine. I pull the ice pack off my face and look down at my girl—even in her sleep, the tears keep coming. My phone vibrates in my pocket and I carefully pull it out.

Keith: Are you guys okay? That shouldn’t have happened like that. Is Britain okay? I’ve got her bag, phone and keys, but I won’t bring them until you give me the go ahead. You should know a woman named Dorie is the one that came to us and said you used to hit her. She showed us a video of you hitting Britain with a paddle. I’m assuming you’re into BDSM. I know my sister and I know how strong she is and she wouldn’t do anything that she didn’t want to do.

The black dots continue to bounce. He’s honestly the one I’m surprised didn’t hit me first.

Keith: Is it okay if I bring her bag to her. If she doesn’t want to talk I’ll respect that for now, but tell her she’ll need to at least check in with Mom or she’ll be banging on your door.

With my free hand, I start texting Keith back.

Silas: I’ll be fine and Brit is sleeping. She’s a mess and hasn’t stopped crying. Dorie is not an ex, just a mistake that I’m apparently still paying for. I have been involved in the BDSM community for quite a while. Dorie is involved too, and anything that happened was consensual. I prefer not to talk about this over text, but if you stop by with your sister’s stuff I’ll answer any questions you have.

Keith: I’ll be there in fifteen.

I gingerly move off the couch and grab the chenille blanket off the back and drape it over her. Fuck, my face hurts like a motherfucker. In the kitchen I grab the bottle of tequila and take a couple of swigs right out of it.

It all happened so fucking fast I didn’t even get a chance to defend myself, but I don’t even know if I would’ve hit her brother or her dad. Yeah, I’m pissed that it happened all because of Dorie, the fucking bitch, but I’m not pissed at them. If I ever have a daughter, I’d be the same way.

There’s a quiet knock on the door and when I look out of the peephole, I see Keith standing there. I pull the door open and he freezes when he sees my face before he walks in. He looks at his sister sleeping on the couch, and I don’t miss the sadness on his face. I can see the war he’s waging inside as he moves to go to her, but stops and follows me into the kitchen.

He sets Britain’s bag on the table before sitting down. “Please tell me you didn’t coerce her into any of the stuff that you did?”

“Do you know anything about the BDSM lifestyle?” I’m getting pissed. “Have you ever heard of safe, sane, and consensual? I don’t do anything without her permission. She holds all the power when we play. Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m a Dom more in the sense that I like making her feel good.”

We start our own little staring contest, but I’ll be damned if I look away first.

“What are you doing here?” I turn to find Britain standing in the mouth of the kitchen. The tears still flow from her eyes.

“I brought your bag and wanted to check on you. Are you okay?”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “No, I’m not okay.” Brit throws her arm out, pointing at me. “Look at Silas, look at what your fucking brother did. I meant what I said Keith: I quit, and I don’t know if I want to see any of you right now. Please leave.” She wipes angrily at the tears streaming down her face.

Keith stands up and moves to his sister, but she holds her hands up. “I don’t want to see you cry. You haven’t cried in so long.”

“Just go, Keith. Tell everyone I’m fine, but I don’t want to see any of you.” She turns and disappears around the corner.

“Just give her a day or two to cool off. I’ll text you when she’s ready.”

He nods, and then I walk him toward the door. “Tell her that we love her. Tell her they know they reacted badly, but it’s only because they love her.” Keith closes the door behind him and I throw the deadbolt.

I move through the living room and head upstairs. Britain’s in bed buried under all of the covers, and I can hear her sniffles. “Baby, are you okay?”

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