Page 102 of Healing the Heart

“Honey, look at her.” She waved toward the screen. “Then look in a mirror. She knew she couldn’t compete, so she did what she could to attack, undermine, and shoot holes in your already Swiss cheese self-esteem.”

“Then I punished her for that,” Tristan interjected, entering the conversation for the first time. “And I didn’t go easy.”

Eric, in master dom mode, leaned forward and caught his eye. “You’re a dominant who was asked to discipline a submissive who broke the rules. She agreed, Tris. No one coerced her or twisted her arm, either with the apology you asked of her or the punishment you prescribed.”

He made her ride the carousel on punishment-only night. Fiona hadn’t been there to witness it, but Esme and Val were and filled her in. Six stations for ten minutes each with impact implements and ouchie devices only. No vibrators, or otherpleasure-inducing toys, fingers, tongues, or otherwise. For an hour.

Seated next to him, Esme laid her hand on his forearm and said in her sweet, completely understanding voice, “She always had the option to get out of it with a safeword, which she didn’t take, Master Tristan.”

“As a member for five years, she was never shy about playing. You can’t blame yourself for her role in this, Tris,” Eric stated firmly with a nod, as if to indicate the end of the discussion.

“I don’t think she knew all of what Jordan planned.”

Several heads turned her way, but it was Detective Owens who asked, “Why is that, Fiona?”

“In the stairwell, after he knocked Axyl out, she panicked, thinking he’d really hurt him, or worse. She ran out saying she hadn’t signed up for that.”

“Remember what I said about psychopaths being charmers?” Val asked. “They’re a lot like bullies; they prey on the weak—like Naomi.”

“She didn’t seem weak when she cornered me.”

“Exactly. You were alone, and she thought she had free rein to be cruel.”

“Little did she know the subbie guardian was lurking in a dressing room ready to come out and breath fire,” Esme said, smiling.

When the men all chuckled except Tristan, who still seemed distressed, and Noah who clearly wasn’t in a laughing mood, Val’s cheeks pinkened. She might live up to the role, which came naturally, but she didn’t embrace the nickname or the attention.

“Naomi mentioned what you said during the interview, Fiona,” the detective said, bringing them back to the matter at hand. “She’s cooperating fully to get a plea deal. Your statement will help corroborate her story.”

“Great. I’m helping a woman who has a weird love/hate obsession with me and was an accessory to my kidnapping get out of jail early.”

“A woman with a weird hate/ hate obsession,” Val corrected her. “She hates you, but also hates that she wants to be you.”

Noah, in protective mode, asked a little too sharply, “Is that supposed to make her feel better?”

“Cool it, Doc,” Eric murmured in a lethal tone.

“No, master. I should’ve just kept quiet,” Val quickly chimed in. “But you know me. I find the psychological gymnastics of the mind fascinating. I didn’t mean to add to your distress, Fi.”

“It’s me who should apologize, Val, Eric,” Noah said, while rubbing his forehead. “I’d really like to put this case to bed and move on, and I know Fiona feels the same way.”

“As would we all. So, where do things stand?” Keiran inquired of Griff.

“With Fiona, Noah, and Naomi’s testimonies, not to mention a mounting pile of DNA evidence, Jordano Parra is going away for a really long time.”

---