Page 32 of Healing Hazel
“You’re right. It’s not the least bit silly.” She took a breath. “Will you?”
“Absolutely, just let me get Drake out here,” Ced said, picking up a tablet off the surface of the podium and tapping a few keys.
While we waited, Hazel turned to Wes. “And can you finish it?”
Wes gave her a small smile. “I can tell my part, but as to finishing it? That I’m afraid is going to fall on you, Hazel.”
She nodded and turned to look toward the elevator as the doors opened and a very large man strolled out.
“Evening, all,” Drake said.
He and Cedro exchanged a few words too low for the rest of us to hear. Drake nodded and exchanged places with his coworker as Ced joined our group. Drake pulled a book from his back pocket and set it on the podium. From the cover, I’d have to say it was most likely some romance which had me grinning at the dichotomy of such a fierce-looking man having a love forromance novels. When he caught my gaze he grinned as if he knew exactly what I was thinking.
“You folks enjoy your evening,” he said.
“I’m certainly going to try,” Hazel said and then turned to face the wooden doors.
I noticed she was no longer trembling or looking as if she’d like to run.
“I feel sort of like Dorothy going to see the great and powerful wizard,” she said.
“Girlfriend, you’re going to find this place is far better,” Mira said, walking up to stand next to her. “You won’t see yellow bricks and hot air balloons, but they have nothing on what you’ll find inside. Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.” Hazel linked one arm with Cedro and the other with Mira, the trio marching through the doors as Wes and I opened them to allow entrance into Rawhide’s own version of Oz.
Chapter Sixteen
Hazel
They say those who face their fears conquer them. I was very much counting on whoever “they” were to be very wise. Because while I didn’t even feel an urge to run, if everyone around us couldn’t hear my knees knocking, it was because the music that filled the Dungeon disguised the sound. Still, it didn’t take but a nanosecond for me to understand that I’d had absolutely no clue what a BDSM club should look like. Not until I stood just inside the doors and looked around. This wasn’t some stripped down warehouse filled with furniture from any thrift shop. There were no blinking neon signs, with most of the letters missing that offered to drown your sorrows in a beer or some harder liquor that I was sure had been so far from being top shelf, the bottles most likely called the floor their home.
The lovely bar on one side of the space wasn’t the only difference. I’d not been immediately smacked in the face with the sight of writhing naked flesh or people bent over spanking benches, restrained in a pillory, or straddling some wooden horse. No one was hanging from chains or from the ceiling either. In fact, I saw no evidence that anything sexual was happening at all.
Tables were scattered around the floor, high stools offering places for couples to talk. And it took another look to see that while far more genteel than any club I’d been in, there was a difference setting this particular club off. The people at the tables wore anything from street clothes to skin-tight cat suits with enough zippers that one’s fingers immediately twitched to start drawing the tab along all those shiny metallic silver tracks. In addition to the tables, there were leather loveseats and club chairs set in small groupings where several people could meet and enjoy a drink or perhaps enter into negotiations for the play that I was sure had to be going on somewhere. There was no emerald green in sight. Instead a soft purple glow of lighting surrounded us.
“Babygirl, we need to move out of the doorway,” Nigel said, after bending down to speak close to my ear.
“Oh, right,” I said, my arms still linked with Mira and Master Cedro’s.
“How about there?” Mira suggested, pointing to a group of chairs next to what appeared to be a railing.
I nodded and somehow found myself not only seated on a loveseat, I had my friends sitting around me and a tray of glasses had been placed on a circular table between us. I accepted the glass Nigel handed me, as well as the smile he offered.
“It’s just water.”
“It’s just what I want,” I assured him and immediately took a long drink. I suddenly had a feeling this was what someone who does live theater must feel like before she steps onto a stage. Praying she’d not forget her lines and that her audience didn’t jeer or just get up and walk away in disgust.
A press of a hand on my arm had me look over to see Mira smile. “Breathe.”
That was good advice as the tightness in my chest immediately lessened when I released the breath I’d held forwho knew how long and drew in another. I’d like to say I was surprised to look around again and see that Master Derek had appeared, but I wasn’t really. The man had this uncanny way of appearing whenever a Little or submissive seemed to need to feel anchored. What did surprise me was to see Sadie at his side.
She smiled. “I know, I often get that reaction when I show up here, but I’m not just a Little to a Daddy. I’m a wife to a Dom. A Daddy-Dom, the best of both worlds if you ask me. If you don’t mind us joining you, that is?”
I smiled. “You’re not just a Little and a wife. You’re a friend. Besides, from what Nigel told me, you’re also quite the actress.”
Sadie giggled. “He’s being generous. I’m sure he thought I was pretty much the court jester, but I’m just glad he got the message and now, well, now you’re here!” Her hand waved to include the area around us.
I was and it was time. I tuned out the music and the clink of glasses. I let the murmurs of the conversations around us fade out of my consciousness as I breathed steadily and met the gaze of all those who’d gathered around me, people who offered not only their ears, but their hearts. My eyes lingered on those of a rich chocolate-brown and when he gave the slightest smile and nod, I took that step, unlocked that iron box, let its contents spill out and told them my story.
