“That’s fucked up, Brother.” Kink stares at the beers, shakes his head, then calls out a demand, “Two whiskys, Prospect.” Turning to me, he adds, “This calls for the stronger stuff.”

I wholeheartedly agree.

When two glasses and a bottle, yeah, Curtis has got a head on his shoulders, appear in front of us, Kink half closes his eyes. “That woman’s suffering hurts the head of a Dominant.”

“You’ve not even met her.” I’m surprised he’s feeling like that.

“I haven’t and I’m not speaking about me. I’m talking about you.”

My eyes crease. “I’ve told you before, I’m no Dominant.”

“Aren’t you?” He refills his whisky glass which I hadn’t noticed he’d already emptied. “You’ve got all the traits, Niran. What officer position are you most suited for?” None is my initial response; I’ve not served enough time in the club. “You’re the de facto sergeant-at-arms. Sure, Grumbler holds the title, but you’ve been playing the part for almost a year now. You’ve got an innate desire to protect and serve the club, as you previously did for your country.” He shrugs. “The role suits you. If Grumbler ever steps down, I, for one, wouldn’t hesitate to vote you in permanently.”

Ignoring the compliment as I don’t know how to take it, I chuckle. “You must be fuckin’ crazy if you’re implying the club’s full of submissives I want to protect.” Is it wrong I get a mental image of Salem and Pennywise naked and crawling around on their knees in front of me while I crack a whip? It so is. The vision makes me both want to bark a laugh and simultaneously vomit. Nah, I’d never want that.

“Dominance, the need to nurture and protect, isn’t something that can be turned off,” Kink says quite seriously.

“Then half the men in the club, at least, possibly all of them, are Dominant if that’s your definition.”

He nods. “Very true. But getting back to you. You met a woman, quite possibly submissive, who’s in need of a fuck load of help. You saw that, stepped in, and tried to give your support until you were no longer in a position to provide it. That’s what’s tying you up into knots, Brother. Another man? He’d have walked away and simply said fuck it.”

I don’t agree. I think most men worth their salt would be worrying about her. “What about you, Kink?” I’m interested in what he would have done or would do in the same situation.

His eyes meet mine and hold them. “I’d be like you, Brother. I know I come off as a shallow bastard who exploits women to fuck them—”

“Not after our talk the other night,” I interrupt, realising his activities now make sense. “Your ways might be bizarre, but you’re looking out for them.”

He winks. “And, getting my Dom kicks, don’t forget that. Just as a sub has needs, Doms do too. If we don’t have the chance to get into that headspace, it takes away part of what balances us.”

My lips curve as I think I’ve caught him out. “So, if I’m a Dom, where do I get my kicks in the Saffie situation? As you said, I was giving support and not getting anything back.”

He snorts and shakes his head, making his hair fly around him. “So fuckin’ blind, you just can’t see it. You got yours by knowing you were helping. That eased something inside you. Which is why you’re so fuckin’ frustrated that you can’t go back, and why you were sitting brooding by yourself.”

I top off my own glass now and think about what he’s said for a moment. While I’ve never considered myself dominant in Kink’s way, it does bring my concerns about being unable to help a woman I don’t really know into some kind of perspective. My desire to protect is being thwarted. I might not label it in the same way as Kink, but I do know whateverthisis, I was born with it.

Suddenly, a hand drops onto my shoulder. I start, my Marine training must have forsaken me, as I hadn’t been aware of anyone’s approach.

“Lover, I know you’re Dominant.” Susie leans in close. “I’m up to games if that’s what you enjoy. You can tie me up anytime or flog me.”

“Fuckin’ get lost, Susie.” My rage rises fast. “Don’t interrupt fuckin’ private conversations.” Or even listen to them. Even as a hangaround she should know that.

Kink adds in a growl and a glare.

Her hand rises and I’m so relieved at the loss of her touch, I barely resist brushing my shoulder to get the lingering sensation off. “If you want me, I’m over there.” She points to where Cindy is standing, and then walks off to join her.

Good riddance.“I fuckin’ hate that bitch,” I snarl. “Why the fuck does she keep coming around? Does she want to be a sweet butt or something?”

Kink’s eyes narrow as he watches her walk away. “More likely an ol’ lady, and you, lucky fucker, are who’s she’s got her eyes on.”

My gaze snaps to him quickly, but it’s not jealously on his face but disgust. “Once, I went with her, Brother. And that was only when I was so fuckin’ drunk I can’t even remember.”

“Some mistakes come back to haunt us,” he says sagely, then shakes himself and gets back on track. “Now, where were we? Ah yes, Saffie.”

The concern in his eyes leads me to admit, “I can’t stop thinking about her, Kink. What she’s going through, how she got there—that she has no man with her makes me think the obvious—and the devastating decision she still has to make.”

Kink leans back on his chair, tipping it up on two legs, and regards me thoughtfully. After a moment, he asks, “You making the assumption she was raped?” I lift my chin slightly, but also raise and lower my shoulders. I’m assuming, yes, but have no evidence one way or another. “What would your advice be in her situation? Abortion, or let nature play this shit out?”

My answer comes easily. “Not for me to say, Brother. I’ve got no iron in this fire. It’s not what I think, even if my leaning was one way or another. What I’d like is to be there, maybe as a sounding block just to listen to her. It’s she that’s got to live with her choice. I just want to support her and make whatever route she chooses easier for her.” I pause, then add, “If she was raped, you’d think the decision would be easier.”