Page 59 of Brave
“Yes, Sir.” She nodded, the set of her shoulders relaxing once more.
“Good girl.” His gaze dropped to her mouth when she smiled. As if he didn’t already feel the need to adjust himself in his pants. Shaking his head at himself, he left before he made himself even later to clock in.
Halfway to the locker room, it occurred to him that he probably should have told her about Pony’s text. After a brief internal debate, he let it go. Pony could wait until after work.
For once, Puppy deserved to enjoy her moment of victory and her new job in peace.
Chapter 15
Why the hell couldn’t she make herself tell Pony no?
Elbows on knees, Puppy sat in the waiting area of the prison, not just ready for the next visiting hour to begin but ready for it to be over. She was irritated, one leg jiggling restlessly up and down, fingers combing over and over through the hair at her temples. The minute pain every now and then as she plucked one only pricked her irritation that much higher.
She wasn’t the only one, either. On another row of chairs on the wall directly opposite of her, Pony sat with her hands clenched tight in her lap, glaring back at her. The cords of her slender neck stood out in angry lines as she breathed. She’d been angry ever since Carlson had brought her home.
He hadn’t wanted to. In fact, that conversation now qualified as the biggest fight they’d yet had by far and she’d only won it because Carlson didn’t want to be her next Ethen—controlling every move she made—and because when he said it was a toxic environment, she’d answered, “And Pony is still in it!”
For almost ten full minutes last night, they’d sat in his car in the parking garage just down the street from the club, quietly calming back down.
“I have to go,” she’d finally dared.
“Why?” he shot back. “Because I’ll be honest with you, honey, I do not want to take you back to that house.”
They say the truth is freeing, but it hadn’t felt like that when she at last admitted out loud, “If I’m not there when she goes to visit him, he’ll make her do terrible things to herself.”
She’d never told anyone that before. For over a year, she’d kept that secret locked up deep in herself. It felt strange to hear filling up the confined space of his night-darkened car. It felt even stranger when his response disregarded Pony entirely and focused only on her.
“You’re going to go visit him? What makes you think I would ever let you…” That he wasn’t Ethen was evident not just in the way he caught himself before he could finish that controlling statement, but also in the deep breath he used to steady and calm himself. “Honey,” he tried again, making an obvious effort to be calm, strained though it was, “I understand you want to protect Pony, but think a minute, okay? If you go and meet with that man, what’s he going to do to you?”
“I can take it. I’m stronger than she is.”
After a startled pause, under his breath he’d said, “Jesus Christ.” But in the end, he’d taken her home. “Two days a week. You can be here two days a week, just long enough to escort her back and forth from the prison, but I want constant communication and an unbreakable promise from you that if he says one derogatory, threatening word, you will get up and leave the room right then. I mean it, honey. If you want to be there for Pony, fine, but that man does not get into your head again.”
She’d agreed, and back to her mother’s house she went. It was after two in the morning by the time she let herself in the front door and waved to Carlson, who wouldn’t leave until he knew she was safe inside. Her mother had long been asleep by then; Pony, although awake, wasn’t talking to her.
“I got a job,” Puppy said, lying in her own bed for the first time in days, hearing nothing but the seething of Pony breathing and all the angry things being kept unsaid. But being hit was far more preferable, she decided, than trying to sleep through her sub-mate’s anger. Over the course of today, it hadn’t gotten any better, either.
Somewhere down the corridor door beyond the guard’s gate, a deep metallic clang signaled the start of visiting hours. Pony’s eyes narrowed just before the locked gate that separated them from the public prison area buzzed open.
Vaulting to her feet, Pony was first in line. She waited expectantly, but Puppy was slow to follow her lead. She felt used, and tired, and the more Pony glared, the more she felt like walking back out to the bus stop rather than getting into line behind her.
Standing up, Puppy got into line, but not directly behind her sub-mate. Rather, she waited so she could be the absolute last through the door. It was a spiteful move and one that immediately showed in the broom-stick rigidness of Pony’s back. As soon as the guards let them enter, she tried to lead, just as she always did, but halfway down the hall to the open cafeteria, she abruptly stepped aside so she could slip back into line directly in front of Puppy. Together, apparently, was better than parted, at least in her mind. It wouldn’t be in Ethen’s, and they both knew it.
Ethen sat waiting for them at his table in the far back of the room. His face was set as stone, his eyes hard and reproving. Puppy heard Pony’s breath catch as his angry stare bored into her. But it was strange, because while that angry swarm of guilt-laden butterflies still gnawed and twisted at her gut when Pony’s step faltered, on Ethen’s part she felt almost nothing at all. He didn’t just look angry, he looked… diminished.
Pony reached his side first, but instead of granting her permission to sit, Ethen glared past her, straight at Puppy.
“Four more weeks,” he finally said. He didn’t give her permission to sit, but after a moment of studying him and feeling nothing but her own growing annoyance, Puppy sat down anyway. His eyes narrowed. “When I do get out, I want you to think on this moment if you’re at all confused about why the punishment is so severe.”
“I won’t,” she said, shaking her head slightly. “Think about it, I mean. It doesn’t matter when you get out. I won’t be there, and I won’t be coming back here either. I’ve got a new Sir.”
The tiniest crack appeared in his glacial mask. For a moment, it actually felt good to see that flair of anger darken his gray eyes.
“He’s a better Dom than you have ever been and ever could be,” she said as he drew a slow breath, the clenching of his jaw the only hint he gave as his mask settled back into place.
“You know, I don’t think I need to see either one of you again.” Pushing back from the table, he stood. “I release you both.”
“What?” Pony gasped.
