Page 7 of Dash

“Whatever you need, Prez.” Whiskey nodded. There wasn’t a moment of hesitation—not a hint of emotion in his expression.

Dash gave a chin lift in approval. He had to hand it to him. The guy had stones.

“Any other business?” The wariness came through their leader’s voice. When no one brought anything else up, he slammed the gavel down. Church ended.

Chapter 4

Liz

2 Months ago

“You missed an amazing play party,” Anemone declared as she plopped herself down onto the bed beside Liz and offered her a glass of wine.

Since Richard’s arrest seven months ago, Liz hadn’t been to one BDSM related event. She had removed herself from the scene entirely. However, that didn’t mean her friend had let Liz withdraw completely. She couldn’t have been more grateful. Anemone had been the only reason she’d remained sane.

Accepting her glass, she relaxed against her pillows while her friend snuggled up with her in the bed. “I think I have a new rope bottom for demonstrations.” Anemone began as she sipped her wine. “Completely into the rope thing and doesn’t expect anything else. It could be the start of a beautiful friendship.”

Liz chuckled. “You and your many admirers. How do you keep track?”

“I make one of them do it, of course,” her friend countered as she swirled her wine, keeping a straight face.

Shaking her head, she was in awe of the petite woman beside her. How a woman who barely broke five foot had such a presence was truly astounding. It proved that bravado could make up for a hell of a lot—including stature.

With a long, heavy sigh, she took a swallow of the sweet wine. There were days she missed the scene, she missed the munches, the play parties, she missed the rush of it all. She missed talking with people who thought like her.

People who could turn anything into sexual innuendo, people who could look at anything and come up with an alternative—kinky use for it. She missed exploring all the facets of herself, and she missed the safety of submission.

Except it wasn’t safe. She’d trusted the wrong person. He’d nearly taken her life away from her. For what? A thrill? It wasn’t worth it. The cost was too high.

“My old boss sent me the most amazing letter of recommendation,” she changed the subject, trying to do the same in her mind.

“Of course she did.” Her friend took the remote and switched the channels. “You are amazing.”

Smiling, she considered the support. She’d always just thought of herself as an okay employee. She did what they’d asked her to do, but reading that letter. Damn. “After reading it, I felt bad for leaving.”

“You had to.”

Liz nodded in agreement. She couldn’t keep working for them even if they’d have allowed her to. The charges were dropped, but in good conscience she couldn’t keep working there. She felt like too much of a risk to them. “I know. Doesn’t make any of it any easier.”

“You know.” Her friend shifted on the bed so that she was looking directly into Liz’s eyes. “None of it was your fault.”

Wearing a frown, she peeled her gaze away from Anemone and focused on her wine. “I brought him around. I trusted him. I knew I shouldn’t have, and I did anyway. I was too desperate.” She tilted the glass up and took a large gulp, letting the wine sit in her mouth for a while before she swallowed.

“We all make mistakes and trust the wrong people sometimes.”

“Did you almost go to jail because of it?”

Her friend frowned, opting not to answer the rhetorical question.

“Yeah, didn’t think so.”

“No, but you’re not the only one who had their life disrupted because of trusting the wrong person.” The impatience in Anemone’s voice came through clearly as she took the wine from Liz’s hand. “You went through a rough patch, and you came out on the other side, unscathed as far as I can tell.”

“I wouldn’t—”

“You didn’t get charged with anything.” Her friend ticked off a finger. “Your old boss would take you back in a heartbeat.” Another finger. “You start a new job tomorrow.” A third finger. “And your dickhead of an ex is in goddamn jail.” She held up four fingers. “Liz, sweetie, baby honey child.” Her friend leaned forward and took hold of Liz’s face with both hands. “You need to let this shit go and get on with your life. Stop wallowing in the past and start living.”

Her friend’s deep brown eyes pinned her in place. Her submissive side clamored to attention, respecting the innate authority Anemone wielded in her tone and expression. The side Liz had intentionally been ignoring and stuffing down. Well, she came roaring to the surface with a vengeance—crippling her, making her unable to move or even respond to her friend’s words.

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