Page 14 of Master

Paramedics barge into the room, and the tool grunts in annoyance, “She’s fucking fine. Tell these assholes you don’t need to go to the hospital. Tell the—” Conor silences him, but it’s too late. Sasha trembles and timidly nods as she tries to push from the floor.Fuck, has he ever done a number on her…

“Eyes on me, Sasha. He’s leaving. You don’t need to look at him again.” I lightly cup her jaw and tip her face toward me, gently demanding her attention as Conor drags the source of her terror from the room. Sasha hesitantly meets my eyes, and I can feel her nerves as her pulse races against my fingertips. “We need to get you looked at. We need to make sure you’re all right.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

SASHA

“Okay,” I softly sob, with fresh tears welling in my eyes.

The icy tiles press against my sweaty back, and I stare into the softest set of storm-blue eyes. They swirl with shades of blues and grays, like a sky fighting between a sunny day and torrential rain. The stranger continues to stroke my cheek and wipe away my tears—showing me more tenderness than any of my Dominants—as he continues to comfort me. “I’ve got you. I’ll make sure you’re okay.”

I won’t be okay.

The way Isaac looked at me a few minutes ago, I’m certain of it. The punishment for breaking my promise—for not being perfect—is going to be harsh. He will want to make sure I learn, so that I will do better for him next time.

“Ma’am, did you take anything?” the paramedic asks as the other attaches a monitor to check my heart and provides a mask to help with my breathing.

The mask resting over my mouth muffles my answer. “No… I mean, just some medicine for my cold.”

Still at my kneeling at my side, the stranger grits his jaw and exhales a seething breath at my response. “You’re sick?” he asks angrily.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter. “I don’t want to get you, or anyone else, sick.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” He quietly sighs, reaching for my hand. His rigid demeanor doesn’t match his gentle tone, and he gives me a light squeeze and rubs his thumb over the back of my palm. “Don’t apologize. I’m not the least bit concerned about catching a cold.”

The paramedics lift me onto a stretcher, and they start to wheel me from the room. Not letting go of my hand, the stranger walks alongside me through the now-empty club to the ambulance waiting in the valet section of the parking lot. As he opens the doors at the back of the ambulance, the paramedic says, “I’m sorry, but we can’t allow you to ride with us unless you are family.”

The stretcher jolts against the back of the rig as they prepare to lift me, and I’m hit with the realization that I’m going to the hospital.I almost died.My chest rattles, and tears stream down my cheeks as I sob uncontrollably.Isaac was going to let me die.

“You can write on your fucking paperwork that I’m her fucking grandmother for all I care,” the stranger retorts, climbing into the back of the ambulance as they push my stretcher into it. Squeezing my hand as he takes a seat beside the stretcher, he proclaims, “I promised I’d make sure you’re okay, and Evans don’t break their promises.”

“Thank you, Mr. Evans.” I try to stifle my sobs.

“Liam,” he corrects me. “Call me Liam.”

After a barrage of tests, a slew of doctors, and some lofty concern about the welts on the back of my right thigh, the doctor informed me that everything looked good, but he’d like to keep my overnight for observation.

“You’re a little fighter, aren’t you?” Liam smirks when I toss against the mattress for the umpteenth time. Not wanting to be alone, I asked him to stay until I fell asleep. He promptly pulled a chair up to my bedside and has been sitting quietly beside me for the past hour while I fought against my fatigue. Brushing his hand over my blanket-covered shin, he adds, “Get some rest. You need it.”

“What the fuck is going on in here?” Isaac barks from the doorway. Splatters of blood stain the front of his previously pristine, white Tom Ford shirt. There’s a deep gash beneath his swollen and bruised left eye. Storming into the room, he shoves Liam from my bedside. “She’s mine.”

“Yours?” Liam scoffs from the comfort of his chair.

“I fucking own her,” Isaac spits, looming over Liam. “You think I’d let a little shit like you take her from me?”

“I’ve already put you on your arse once tonight. I have no qualms about doing it again,” Liam warns.

“Get your shit, Sasha,” Isaac demands. Terrified chills run down my spine when he tears the blanket from my legs and tosses it in Liam’s face. “We’re going home.”

Rising from his seat with an eerie calmness, Liam spreads the blanket over the bed to cover my bare legs. “She isn’t goinganywherewith you.”

“She’s mine!Myfucking sub. And if she knows what’s good for her, she’ll get her disobedient ass out of that fucking bed,” Isaac snarls, reaching for me. His hand brushes my arm as Liam tears him away from my bedside.

Fisting the front of his shirt, Liam drives Isaac’s back into the wall. He hits it with such force it causes the picture on the wall beside him to crash to the floor. “She’s not fuckingyours.” Liam drives his forearm into Isaac’s throat. “You don’t fucking own her. And you sure as fuck don’t treat her with the respect and admiration a submissive deserves.”

Isaac’s face grows a bright shade of crimson as Liam presses into his neck with the entire weight of his solid frame. He doesn’t ease up, not even when the shade of Isaac’s face begins to turn a blueish hue and as his nails tear at Liam’s arm. I should be afraid. I should want to help him or at least feel some sort of anguish about what’s happening to Isaac, but I don’t. The only thing I feel is gratification, enjoying watching him pay his penance with the same terror I felt only a few hours ago.

“She nearly fucking died, and all you can think about is admonishing her for ruiningyournight.” Liam drops his voice to a deep rumble. “You’re nothing more than an abusive fuck”

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