Page 46 of The Players

Knives that used my skin as their canvas, turning it into a horrible picture.

Still, he was right. She had ignored the calls of her friends and sister for over a week now. Had refused to acknowledge a world existed outside these walls, telling herself she just needed time to gather her courage and face it.

I’ve turned into a human ostrich.

She raised her chin. “What do you want from me?”

“I call in my first IOU.”

From the moment she accepted Vince’s proposition, she had waited in dreaded anticipation of when he’d put his IOU cards in play. By now, she had at least expected him to order her to submit to him on her bare knees in his club, for everyone to witness her humiliation. Honestly, waiting for the ax to drop had been tiresome.

He walked over to an oak cabinet. When he returned, holding a leather corset and tiny red panties, she knew she was in trouble.

CHAPTER 16

CARMEN

Walking back into a BDSM club was like going through a gauntlet. The dark, cherry wood floors, and charcoal walls felt eerily familiar, confining even. Her heart was pounding, close to exploding out of her chest as she took in the space. The first time she’d entered Club Obsidian was weeks ago, to meet with a man claiming to have dirt on her. She’d put on a latex suit and pretended to be a regular. She’d barely taken the time, or effort, to take in her surroundings. After all, once you’d seen a BDSM club up close, surely, you’d seen them all?

As it appeared, that was not the case. For starters, she didn’t have to wear a blindfold as she entered the place. Unlike when Franco had taken her to Red Velvet, which had been the first red flag the place was off the map. Also, this time, she had Sy and Vince at her side. They flanked her going in, greeting the security guard.

“On the left are the female changing rooms,” Sy explained.

“You need a minute to yourself, go in there.”

This time, it was Vince trying to reassure her. Did she appear so spineless, they had to explain safety protocol to her? Did she look like a deer staring into headlights? She sure felt like it, and part of her hated herself for showing weakness. It was a sure way to get them to take advantage of that.

That’s what Franco would do.

They are not Franco.

But what if…

“I’m fine.” She was better than fine. She was standing in a club she hated, and hadn’t thrown up yet. That on its own was a win.

A hand massaged her neck. “Breathe.”

She intertwined her fingers with Sy’s, not caring what it told him about her state of mind. He was her rock, whether he wanted to be or not.

“Remember, you’re just here to observe, not participate,” Vince said.

It was time to get a grip. This place didn’t look anything like that seedy place where Franco had taken her. Yes, shadows were cast in every corner, where couples sat on large, leather chairs, or richly decorated ottomans, but there was a bouncy, breath of fresh air to the place. There were women dressed in all colors of the rainbow, some chatting in corners, others having a drink at the bar. Her eyes grew wide when one of them laughed out loud to a guy dressed in leathers. He slapped her butt, and pulled on the leash she had around her neck.

A mini explosion happened in her brain, taking her back to years ago.

Ropes chafing her skin, making it raw.

A paddle hitting her flesh, bruising it.

The merciless pull of a leash forcing her up from the floor.

“No…”

She jumped forward, ready to pounce on that man, when Vince grabbed her arm.

“Are you okay?”

She gave him an acidic look. “Am I okay? Of course not! He’s hurting her and—”

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