Page 112 of Sunrise

Vault’s hands fall to his side.

Bile rises in my throat. If this goes south, I’ll have to leave and never come back.

Maybe that’s why I’m doing this. Since my job is already a pile of ashes, this part of my life can catch fire next, and I’ll have no choice but to leave. Start fresh somewhere new. Again.

“My name isn’t Sophie Ross.” Staring at the floor, tears drip off my nose. “I’ve been lying to everyone since the moment I joined the Monarch Club.” The ache in my chest intensifies with every passing, electrically charged second. “I’ve actually been lying for a lot longer than that.”

Numbness creeps up my ankles, knees, and thighs. It slithers up my spine and down my arms, wrapping itself around my neck and across my face.

“My real name is Katrina Mayfire.” Before my legs give out on me, I sink into the chair at my vanity and continue staring at the floor. I wish it would open up and swallow me whole. “I was a Domme in college. It paid for my tuition.” The instant I start talking, my confessions flow like a dam inside me has finally burst. “I had a sub who became… very close to me. We’d started by meeting in motels, but after a few months of steady, weekly sessions, he would come to my apartment. I’d degrade him. Treat him like a pet.” My throat’s too tight. It hurts to swallow. “He would be anything from a footstool to a maid for me. I even had a dog cage for him to sleep in.”

My gaze slowly crawls to Knox.

“We never had sex.” It seems like a million years ago. “But I was fascinated with him. The way his mind worked, the things he liked me to do to him, the absolute rapture on his face when I’d…” There’s no need to go into details. I’m just digging myself into a deeper hole. “He paid so much money that I never turned him down.” Dropping my gaze to my bare feet again, a heavy sigh leaves me. “But he became obsessed. He’d overwhelm me with mass texts and voicemails and emails, and he started showing up unannounced at my job or apartment. The final straw was when I came home one night and found him in position on my living room floor. That violation of trust, his breaking and entering…” Shaking my head, I get angry about it all over again. “I ended up getting a restraining order against him.”

The silence is deafening.

“Once I filed the restraining order, he disappeared. I started to feel safe again. About a year later, I went out for a run. It was just after I finishedmy master’s degree, and I was mentally working through my next steps for what I wanted in my future.”

These are the nightmares I still have. The ones I can’t escape.

“I always took the same trail. It was a ten-mile stretch through a park, into town, and would loop back around to my apartment complex. It was a popular circuit for most runners in the area because it’s well lit.” Blood swishes in my ears. “That night, he grabbed me and dragged me into the woods.”

A strangled noise comes out of Vault.

“He wore his sub mask that had a zipper over his face, but I knew it was him. The name Samantha was tattooed on his forearm before we were ever a thing, and I saw it on the man who attacked me that night.” I don’t even know why I’m sharing this much detail. “He hauled me into the woods, ripped at my clothes, hit me and covered my mouth with his filthy hand…”

A shiver runs down my body remembering the terror I felt.

Another noise comes out, this time from Knox, but I still can’t look up at either of them.

“I managed to grab a rock and hit him in the head with it. It was enough to stun him, which gave me time to get away. I took off as fast as I could.” My hands shake in my lap. “I got to my apartment but had lost my cell somewhere during the attack, along with one of my shoes.”

“Which meant you had no way to call the cops,” Knox says cautiously.

“Correct.” Swallowing the lump in my throat is hard work. “I pounded on my neighbor’s door, but noone answered. It was only about eight at night, and they were out for dinner. I didn’t get a chance to keep knocking on other doors, because he ran up the stairs to my apartment, screaming my name. I hid between two washers in the laundry room down the hall.”

“Jesus,” Vault whispers.

“Someone called the cops when they heard him trying to kick down my door.”

Coming to the end of this confession is like the last decent on a rollercoaster. My adrenaline starts to even out, even though my heart keeps racing.

“Testifying was a nightmare. He’d twisted everything around. Told them about our Dom/sub relationship and insisted it was all role play and that I’d consented to a primal chase. He even showed texts and pictures that I’d sent him in the past that confirmed our dynamic.”

“They didn’t believe he attacked you for real?” Vault’s voice is on the edge of violence.

“He was sentenced to prison for four years for violating his restraining order. Got out in less than two.”

“That’s it?” Knox sounds outraged.

I shrug one shoulder. “He had amazing lawyers.”

“Well, he’s about to have an amazing, unmarked grave,” Knox growls. “I’ll make sure of it.”

I think he’s being serious.

“I almost gave up everything after that. My career, my lifestyle, but I didn’t want to lose what I loved. While he was locked up, I changed my name and moved. I started over with everything, including where to go for my PhD.” I swipe more tears from my face. “I joined the Monarch Club because it was thebest in the city. I lied to Ryker when I started and told him I had no experience in BDSM but wanted to learn.” My chin trembles as fresh tears fill my eyes. “I lied to all of you.”

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