Page 14 of Submit
“What the fuck does he do to get those women, especially one like her?” I ask Max as he goes back to tending the bar, shaking his white head.
“Damned if I know. But if you’re going to take her, do it outside of these walls.”
“Yeah, I hear ya old man.” I laugh, slapping the bar once with my palm, laying down a hundred-dollar bill for his tip. He did in fact just keep me from getting banned for life from Kelly’s.
I can’t just let them walk away though. I need to make sure that sadistic bastard isn’t doing anything to her that he shouldn’t, especially with how afraid she seemed of him. I just know he’s hurting her in private. But here, in the club, if he disobeys the rules, or ignores her safe word, or anything like that then I CAN step in, and step in I will.
I stay a few paces behind them as he carries her back down the center hallway, looking for an empty playroom. Keeping my fingers crossed behind my back, I hope he picks a room with a viewing window, where other patrons can look in and observe the play time. That way I really can keep my eyes on her and watch him like a freaking hawk.
She struggles in his grasp, until he sets her down, and practically drags her behind him. At one point the heel of her stiletto catches on the burgundy rug making her trip up, and he just keeps pulling on her little wrist. I want to reach out and just swoop her up, carrying her out of here, but I fucking can’t, and it’s really pissing me off. He doesn’t deserve her and never will.
I will kill you for her if I have to. Don’t think I won’t.
I’m no angel. I’ve done things in my life to get where I am, things that I can never speak of. Murder, that’s one. I’ve done it, but only when necessary. I have no problem ending the existence of a shit stain of a man. I just haven’t needed to do it often. I’ll definitely break out my killer with him if he pushes it that far. I’ve never been caught, and I never will. I’m too smart for that. So he’d better mind his fucking manners with her.
I sigh a little breath of relief when they finally find a vacant room, and yes, it has a window. He pulls her in and slams the door shut, grabbing her and shoving his weasel tongue down her throat before her feet even stop moving.
He kisses her like he’s never kissed anyone before, messy and wet, drooling down her fucking chin like an animal, and she just stands there, her wrists in his calloused hands and takes it like the good slave she is, or at least should be, for me.
Her and the playroom are too pretty for him. She shines like a gem under the mellow lighting, her dress glimmering with all its shiny sequins, casting red flickers on the cream walls and dark wood flooring under the shaggy sheepskin rugs. I thank fuck that the room is a lovers’ room, with a large king bed dressed in fancy linens, and not a torture room. To have a sawhorse and whips at his disposal would be detrimental for her.
The gaze he throws at me through the window tells me I’m right. And even in this subdued space, he’s going to do something foul to her, and not in a fun way, just because I’m watching.
Fucking prick.
She’s like a ragdoll in his arms, not fighting, not pushing back, yet also not submitting and dropping to her knees like a good submissive. She’s either untrained or just that scared of him. Either way it’s not good, and it makes the anger boil inside me as I lean my forehead against the glass watching every touch, kiss, and grope closely.
My breath fogs up the glass, then disappears as I practically pant in rage watching him grope her, but when he grabs the front of her dress and rips the material like a barbarian, my breathing stops and my insides flip.
Uncalled for. You just signed your death certificate.
It’s not one of those “I can’t wait to get you naked” things the way he tears her beautiful dress. No, it’s the “I’m an asshole and want to ruin everything nice about you” thing. I’m going to ruin him.
The room seems to stand still as I lean on the window, my forehead pressing the pane hard enough to crack it, if it weren’t bulletproof for safety. It flexes with the force though and I push even harder, wanting it to break so I can climb in through the open hole in the wall, drag him out by his greasy hair, and beat the fuck out of him.
“Easy there killer.” Max says, placing his aged hand on my shoulder, gripping me loosely. “I know what you’re thinking, and that’s why I’m here. To keep you from doing something stupid.”
“You should be behind the bar.” I grumble at him but allow him to keep his hold on me.
“Nah. I’m where I’m needed the most right now.”
“Thanks, old man.”
“Hey, you’re getting up there too ya know. I mean you have a ways to go before you reach my stage of ripeness, but you ain’t no baby anymore.”
“Yeah.” I sigh, rolling my head back and forth, pressing the glass harder, feeling it shift but not break.
He stands with me and watches the same scene unfold as I do. We stay stoic as Tyler uses her and berates her, slapping her and hitting her, until she cries real tears. It’s not a show from her. It’s real pain and fear, but for him, it’s a fucking display of what he assumes is his “power”. Instead it’s just another nail in his coffin when I get him out of these four walls.
“You’re gonna end him, aren’t you?” Max asks, finally taking his grip from my shoulder as we turn away from the scene.
“You know I can’t answer that.”
“Do me a favor?”
“Yeah old man?”
“Make it from me too.”
