Page 79 of Good Girl

Turning off each light as I pass the switches, I go back out into the main area of the apartment but pause a few steps in because it’s only now occurring to me how damn quiet the space is. All weekend, there has been noise.

Them talking, the TV, music—something.

The silence feels thick and heavy on my skin, but it also reminds me that there was a huge bang earlier, like something heavy falling on the ground. But if I’m here by myself, what caused the noise? A chill fills my veins at the thought that I might not be completely alone.

I almost snort laugh at myself. Could I sound anymore like the blonde chick who gets killed in a horror movie?

Ooo, there was a weird noise over there, I’ll go check it out.

Next thing you know, she’s carved up like a turkey and her friends keep finding pieces of her body around the cabin they rented for a weekend getaway.

It would basically be impossible for someone other than my men to be in here with me. Security fobs to get in and out of the building, a security guard at the front door, swipes to getthe elevator going, and then another one to get into the actual apartment.

No, it’s more likely that something was sitting precariously and finally lost the battle with gravity. I’ll go figure out what it was, set it to rights, and then sit my ass back on the couch and watch some TV until one of them gets back.

Then I’ll give them a piece of my mind for abandoning me here.

I just need to be quick. There is absolutely no way I want them catching me walking through their personal torture dungeon. Nope, nope, nope. Am I going to snoop? Hell yeah, but only a little. I have no idea when they’ll be back, so this is going to be a quick in-and-out mission.

I ignore my racing heart and how sweaty my palms have become and go in search of the noise.

It’s like there is an invisible wall that I pass through as I step into the corner that is Darcy’s space. His beautiful ropes line the cornered walls, and I can’t help but run my fingers over them. The chair is gone—I have no idea where—leaving it as an open space.

I walk around several cabinets placed together to form a makeshift boundary wall and toward Derek’s space.

The Wall of Torment.

Almost as colorful as Darcy’s walls, Derek’s has a lot more black intermingled among the rainbow. I want to reach out to the floggers and whips, but I don’t. Instead, I search out the two paddles that have claimed special places inside of me.

There they are, side by side.

Good Girl. Daddy’s Brat.

Those, I do touch. I can’t help it. The leather is so much smoother than I thought it would be. The way my ass had stayed red with the imprinted words for hours after the scene had caused heat to simmer in my veins.

Just the thought of it is turning me on again. My nipples feel tight against the fabric of Xavier’s shirt, which he pulled over my head the moment I’d gotten out of the bathroom with Darcy and Hudson. He also helped me slip on the plain black panties that I’m wearing.

One shaky breath later, I turn away from the wall and stare at the abundance of kinky furniture.

The spanking bench from yesterday.

More cabinets in varying sizes, with plenty of drawers.

My eyes widen when I spy what looks like a gynecologist’s bed in the far corner, with stirrups and everything—really fucking glad that wasn’t on the menu for the weekend. What the hell do they even use that for?

Swallowing, I look at the next piece of furniture, and my mouth drops open. Is that a pillory? Holy fuck.

And then, the piece I have been trying really hard not to look at.

The St. Andrew’s Cross against the wall.

Tentatively, I take a step closer to it.

It’s wooden, with padding along each of the arms and legs, as well as where a person’s torso would go. There are handcuffs hanging from the highest points of the X. Straps dangle from the sides of the torso padding, perfect for restricting movement. My gaze traces down to the legs, and that’s when I notice something out of place beside the cuffs attached to the feet of the cross.

A massive black leather case.

That must be what made the noise.