Page 11 of Hard Discipline

“That’s not a thing anymore,” Lucas says, picking at the fabric on the arm of his chair. “It’s over.”

I’m sure that’s not satisfaction rising in me. It can’t be, because why? I told her to go and find herself another Master, that I wasn’t available, end of story. I’m certainly not chasing her now she’s not with my son. I’m not that fucking desperate.

“Oh?” I ask, making sure to mask the curiosity in my voice. “Did you finally let her off the hook?”

“No.” Lucas jerks at the threads on the chair arm. “She…dumped me.”

I blink, aware of deep surprise. She told me that night that she wanted to explore her sexuality for Lucas’s sake, so what made her change her mind? Was it me? Was it what we did?

“What happened?” This time I can’t quite disguise the note of demand in my voice.

But Lucas doesn’t pick up on it — thank God for the self-centeredness of young people. “Oh, she said it wasn’t working between us and that she thought it was better if we had some time apart.” He finally looks up from the chair arm. “It’s fine. We were kind of over each other anyway. She’s clingy and super anxious, and I know that’s because of the attack, but?—”

“What attack?” I interrupt sharply as everything draws tight inside me.

Luc sighs. “Oh, it was a year ago. She was jumped by some asshole outside a bar and got hurt. She dropped out of college because of it.”

I struggle to keep my expression neutral as a flare of instinctive and protective anger licks up inside me. Generalized anger at cowards who think hurting women makes them feelpowerful is one thing, but this sharp needle of fury is quite another. It feels almost personal, though there is no reason for it to be. Apart from that one hour in my hotel room, I haven’t spoken more than a few words to her and certainly never spent time with her, so I don’t know why I feel this intensely about it.

Lucas is frowning at me and I realize that maybe I haven’t managed to hide my feelings as well as I should. “That’s unfortunate,” I say coolly. “Clearly security needs to do a better job.”

“Yeah, well, she was in a bad way for a while and I didn’t want to make things worse by dumping her in the middle of it.”

“You weren’t doing her a favor,” I can’t help but say. “Persisting with something that doesn’t work only makes things worse in the long run. You should have been up front with her about it, had the difficult conversation. She let you off the hook.”

Lucas stares at me. “Coming from you, that’s rich. You’re the king of avoiding difficult conversations.”

Fuck. Little shit isn’t wrong. Nothing like your children to find your weak points to slide the knife in.

“You want to have it now, then?” I say, because I can’t let that go unchallenged. “I’ve got nothing on my schedule. I’m free all afternoon.”

Lucas snorts and pushes himself from the chair. “Fuck, no. The moment when we could have had that conversation was years ago and you fucking missed it.” He starts towards the doors.

“Luc.” I don’t know why I want him to stop, turn around, and sit down again. Not when I have no idea what to say to him. Nevertheless, I do.

He stops and glances back at me. “Yeah, what?”

But I still have no idea what to say and in the end I say nothing.

“Thought so,” Lucas says, scathingly, and walks out.

Fuck. Another excellent interaction with my son.

I shove my chair back and stalk over to the windows, consumed with the need to move. I’m pissed at myself. All the years in business gave me an extremely low bullshit threshold and after Gabrielle’s death that threshold only got lower. I always mean what I say and I never second-guess myself, and the only regrets I have are around Lucas and Gabrielle, so talking to my son should not be so difficult. Yet it is.

As I stare moodily over New York City’s skyline, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pull it out and look down at the screen. It’s a notification from The Club app that I have a new message.

My anger coils and tightens like a snake unable to find a target, and I know that when I’m feeling like this, I need to feed the beast. I need to setup another playdate with a pretty little sub. Domination is simple when everyone knows the rules and there is no need to think of anything else. There is only the sub and their obedience. Their pleasure. Taking control of a sub is a rush I’ve never found anywhere else. It centers me completely, puts me straight in the moment, and reminds me that control is everything. Control over one’s body and one’s emotions. It’s meditative sometimes, too, and when you can reduce a sub to a screaming, crying mess, you know you’ve done your job well.

Fuck, I need this.

I open the app and scroll to my messages. There are a few from subs looking to find a new Master, but that’s not me, so I ignore those ones. A couple from subs I’m familiar with, who want a playdate, and yet even as I’m thinking about responding, I’m ambivalent. I know them already and they know me, and once you’re a known quantity, can there ever be surprises? I know their boundaries and they know mine and the tension of uncertainty, of trepidation, that can make a scene so fucking hot, is lost.

I scroll past them, dissatisfied, and just then a new message arrives and instantly every muscle in my body tenses.

It’s from Artemis.

What the fuck? I told her she wasn’t ready, that she needed to find someone else, so why the hell is she pushing? I don’t do brats.

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