Page 64 of Fallen Roses

We don’t need words or conversation. That can wait. It’s all about actions now and if this is going to work, I must understand the whole of him. Dive into the shadows holding his hand and discover every dark, depraved thought in his head. I want to rip off the paper and discover what’s hiding behind it, unwrap the mystery, and make my own judgment.

Now, as we pull up outside The Scarlet Cage, a fresh bout of nerves reminds me of what a fool I am.

“We don’t have to do this,” James says softly afterpaying the driver, our fingers entwined as we stare at the scarlet door.

“I want to.”

My voice is huskily edged in trepidation and James squeezes my hand and whispers, “We can leave at any time. Just say the word.”

We head inside and I note the welcoming entrance, more like a hotel than a club.

There are soft couches set around glass tables and ornate furniture, with candles and flowers decorating their polished surfaces.

A jug of water is set on a tray, with crystal glasses surrounding it and I see nobody at all, which surprises me.

The only people that appear to be in this room are the two of us, reflected in the ornate mirrors that hang on every wall.

Chinese rugs scatter on the polished wooden floor and cushions rest on cozy couches, inviting us to take a seat.

“What happens now?” I whisper, strangely nervous, and James pulls me to sit beside him.

He removes two keys from a collection in a lidded jar on the table and then reaches inside his jacket and removes a plastic card and says with a small smile.

“Are you ready for this, Ana?”

“I think so.” My voice shakes, but I smile brightly and I’m not comforted by the worry in his eyes.

“I should warn you–” He glances at the key. “We mustwear masks the entire time and conversation is restricted to commands and answers relating to the club. No personal information is divulged, anonymity is the key.”

“Okay.” I bite my bottom lip and his eyes swirl with sudden danger and I swear my blood heats as if he’s taken a blowtorch and held it against my skin.

He stands and heads to the door at the far corner of the room and swipes his membership card down the metal strip.

I steel myself to be corrupted forever as we head through the open door into a corridor painted deep red. It is lined by small lockers and James takes the key and locates the corresponding number. As he opens it, I notice a mask and a robe inside and he says huskily, “Take them and place your valuables inside.”

He repeats the process with the other key on the fob and as we stow our possessions, I wonder what the hell I’ve just signed up for.

Once he has locked the items away, we head to another door, and he says casually, “There’s a room we use to change into our robes and pull on our masks. You place your clothes in a bag and hang it on the hook provided. They will be perfectly safe. Everybody plays by the rules here.”

I say nothing and he points to a curtained area and heads to another one nearby and as I remove my clothing, my heart is beating to critical levels.

I must be mad.

I should be certified because I’m not even sure what I’m signing up for. I already know it’s bad. The expression in James’s eyes tells me that, and I can tell he’s worried. I want to reassure him, but I can’t even do that and so I take a deep breath and attempt to get my nerves under control. I must see this through so I can understand the whole of him.

What happened in that hotel room with Adele is forever seared on my mind. I don’t understand it. It horrifies me, but perhaps it will all become clear when I have experienced this club with James.

With a deep breath, I meet him outside and my legs shake when I regard him hiding behind his mask for the first time. His eyes flash through the holes and his mouth is set in grim determination and it’s as if the mask has transformed him. He appears powerful, untouchable even and a prickle of desire shoots through my core as his hand closes possessively around mine and he says huskily, “Come with me.”

I am grateful for my mask as we head into the next room. It gives me something to hide behind, an anonymity where nobody can judge me or use this against me. If anything, it gives me freedom and chases away any lingering nerves. James is holding my hand tightly and yet words are unspoken as we walk into a place that makes my eyes pop.

It’s a huge room where a stage is set in the middle, a parade of men and women standing on it wearing masks and robes.

James whispers, “When you arrive, the submissive, either men or women, stand on the stage and wait for a dominant to choose them.”

“I don’t–”

I tighten my grip on his hand and he says softly, “You are with me. There is no requirement for you to go up there. Many people come here alone in the hope of a night where they can indulge their desires. Nobody judges them, or even knows who they are. It’s set up that way.”

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