Page 4 of Learn For Me

A cold chill spread through him as he crouched, one knee on the tarmac, to press his palm against the hot surface.

Maybe he shouldn’t have waited so long to do this.

For a long moment, he stayed like that, saying a silent thank you to a man who, although he’d possessed unlikable traits, had shown his cowardice was only skin deep. It wasn’t the coward or the bully who Zeke mourned, but the potential of the rest of him.

He jolted when a hand landed lightly on his shoulder.

“I’ve stopped here several times myself,” Liam said quietly. “Usually once the crews have finished for the day, and it’s quiet. I know he’s not here anymore, hasn’t been for a long time, but…”

“This is where he died.”

“Yes. I’m not a man who puts great faith in an afterlife or ghosts, but part of me hopes that he visits if he can. Makes it easier to believe he’s not really gone, whether it’s right or not.” The grip on Zeke’s shoulder tightened. “We never blamed you, Zeke. Me or Sierra. There was never a reason to set that weight on you.”

“He died because of me. If I hadn’t gone down…”

“He wouldn’t have died with his column stacked on the plus side. We all know it, and now the grief has abated, it’s not as difficult to admit. Wyatt had issues. Inflicting pain on Sierra was his way of boosting his self-esteem. It was a bad habit; one we were working on breaking. Big heart in some respects, but his spine was undoubtedly weak. Saving you at least made his death less… needless.”

Zeke sighed and rose, allowing Liam to drape his arm over his shoulders. Talking about this made him uncomfortable, because he hadn’t made peace with it yet. “Speaking of Sierra, how’s she doing? Are the fertility treatments working?”

“She’s giving up hope. I’ve told her, it’s early days yet, but every time she takes a test and it comes back negative, her heart breaks in her eyes.”

That wasn’t hard to imagine. Liam’s sub was soft-hearted, incredibly innocent, and a little stunner. In Zeke’s opinion, only an idiot wouldn’t be able to see exactly what she was beneath that beard. It was just a kick in the ass that the cause of her hirsutism was affecting her ability to have kids. “Stress won’t help.”

Liam snorted as they crossed over to the new entrance. “It gets worse whenever one of the girls announces she’s pregnant again. I suggested adoption; she cried so much, she lost her voice for a day. Apparently, if everyone else can have their own babies, she should too.”

“If only life wasn’t a bitch,” Zeke murmured, casting his eye over the varnished wood of the portico. The shade it offered was refreshing, and he spotted several small spotlights recessed into the roof to light the way in the dark.

They walked up the steps and through open, tinted glass doors to join the others.

“Well, this is different,” Liam groused, obviously perturbed by the wide, semi-circle desk in front of them.

“It is,” Evander agreed. “Braun wanted the club modernizing a bit, especially when it comes to security and the safety of club patrons. We’ve introduced a new system where a member produces their card and scans it here,” he informed them, tapping his finger on a small square of glass in the middle of the desktop. “That brings up all their relevant data, including current membership status. This is followed up by a thumb-print scan as confirmation.”

“So, we’re in the Pentagon?” Jasper muttered.

Grinning, Evander shook his head. “No retinal scans, I’m afraid. The simplicity of the system means that subs can man the desk. They can’t override the computer to let anyone sneak in, and those doors won’t open from this side without the scan or a pin number that only the owners—which is now all of us—will have.”

“Isn’t that a fire hazard?” Thane queried.

“Good question, and yes, it is. Which is why there are manual overrides installed on both sides of the door.” Facing them, Evander gestured to their left. “The office and storage room are that way. Locker rooms are behind the desk, male and female. They lead straight into the club from the other end, so the doors work on the same system.”

Swiping a credit card-sized piece of plastic over the glass, he pressed his thumb to the top corner. With an almost inaudible buzz, the double doors on Zeke’s right unlocked. “Come on through.”

Like a little flock of bewildered sheep, they followed him again.

When the doors snicked shut behind the last man through, they all stood in shocked silence, taking in the newness.

It smelled wrong to Zeke. That was what struck him first; the scent of fresh paint, new carpet—hell, even the furniture carried the same unsettling odor. It didn’t help that the layout had changed. Gone were the stage and seating pit, and the bar was no longer to his right.

“Braun explained that the social area was where most of the Doms brought their subs for aftercare after a scene.” Still walking, Evander turned to a door where the booth used to be and stepped through into a short corridor painted cozy yellow, striding down it efficiently. “Changing rooms,” he said, pointing to two doors on the left, then pushed through the far door into a bright room lit with natural light. “This is the new aftercare space. The glass is treated so no one can see in, but members have a clear view of the sky. Members have day beds, couches, armchairs, a whole array of comfort at their disposal.”

Not just that, Zeke noted curiously. They’d put a small version of the bar in the corner, small enough for one person to man. “We’re serving alcohol in here?”

Braun told him, “Water and juice, mainly, along with a small selection of alcohol. Nothing compared to what we’ll stock in the main room. We’ll keep comfort food and med kits in here. Additional blankets, whatever is needed.”

“And who’s running this setup?”

“We’ll have a rota going for service subs.”

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