Page 117 of Healing the Heart

Although he couldn’t see them, he assumed, like in LA, there were tables up front by the stage, so he headed that way. He didn’t get far before he bumped into a body. Hispardon mewent ignored, the immense man not budging. Noah stood three inches over six feet, but he had to look up several more to see the man’s face.

“Axyl. What are you doing here?” Noah asked, surprised to see him.

“I’m just on loan to the LA office. I live here, remember?” When he crossed his bulging arms over his massive chest, his orange DM armband was hard to miss. “We’re at capacity. You’ll have to leave.”

His eyes widened. “You’re joking.”

“Look around you. It’s standing room only. We don’t have room for guests.”

There was an unmistakable sneer to his last word. What the hell?

The younger man filled in at Rossi in LA often, and he’d gotten to know him well. Usually outgoing, genial, and quick to laugh, none of those qualities described him tonight. More like closed off, pissed off, and definitely inhospitable.

“I won’t stay. Once I find Fiona, we’ll leave.”

He stepped to the side to move around him, but he moved with him, blocking his way.

“You’ll leave now. Alone.”

Noah stood his ground. “What is your problem?”

He dropped his arms and moved closer, deliberately bumping him in the chest. “Fiona doesn’t want to see you. By ignoring your calls, texts, and letters, it should be obvious that she wants nothing to do with you.”

Noah’s jaw clenched. She and Axyl were friendly. He’d protected her many days while at work and when on lockdown when he couldn’t be with her because of a patient who couldn’t wait. If he knew about the letter, they must be closer than he realized.

“Take the hint, man,” Axyl urged. “Leave her in peace.”

THE BASS LINE AND DRUMSgot her heart pumping, and the lead guitar licks made the hairs on her arms stand on end. But it was the lead singer, petite, with long wavy dark hair, a classy lacy black dress, and some kick-ass tattoos, who commanded their attention. Her voice, a delightful contralto, could seamlessly transition into a perfectly pitched head voice, and she had a wicked growl, used sparingly, that made the crowd go wild.

She sang songs from a range of genres, pop to classic rock with a few alternative tunes in the mix. As if to prove herversatility, she switched to country. Specifically, “Any Man of Mine.”

The irony of the lyrics considering where they were, in a large crowd where at least half were dominants, wasn’t lost on any of the submissives in the audience. As if a Club Decadence dom would walk the line. That didn’t stop the subs from singing along at the top of their lungs, especially the chorus, and echoing theyeahswhenever Elena sang them.

The applause was thunderous at the end.

Grinning, the petite singer with the huge voice announced, “We’re gonna take a break because I’ve got some explaining to do to the gorgeous, green-eyed, fire-breathing, earth-quaking master dom of mine over by the bar about that one.”

The avid fans cheered and laughed and applauded wildly again as she walked off the stage.

Fiona leaned closer to Lexie to be heard. “This isn’t a bar in a kink club; it’s a concert, and better than any I’ve been to at the Palladium.”

“I know! Right?” she answered, grinning. “Isn’t Elena awesome?”

“Is there a word for better than awesome? Why doesn’t she have a recording contract?”

Megan, a petite blonde she’d learned was married to Cap, the CEO she’d met in LA during her recent drama, answered that. “Because she’s in love with the master dom here and prefers to perform locally. She’s a brilliant songwriter, too, and has sold quite a few of her songs.”

The redhead beside her, who’d joined them in the middle of Elena’s first set, leaned her elbows on the table and asked, “What’s your story?”

“Meet my subtle twin, Regan,” Megan said with an eye roll. “How about finding out her name before demanding her life story? Sheesh!”

“I’m Fiona from LA,” she said, doing the intro herself, but only since she’d had two top-shelf, freaking-fantastic margaritas. Usually, she didn’t even like them. But they’d loosened her lips, and her not-so-inner introvert had retreated a bit. “But I may be Fiona from San Antonio pretty soon. I haven’t decided but am leaning that way.”

“Really...” She popped a pretzel into her mouth and chewed slowly, her eyes fixed on her as if analyzing every detail. “What are you running away from?”

“Regan!” Lexie, Megan, and Elena, who’d just joined them, all exclaimed at once.

“What? Am I supposed to ignore how sad she looks?” The unfiltered redhead reached out and patted her hand. “You’re among friends here. You can tell us. Believe me, we have all been there.”