by Anya Summers
He worked quite a bit, although it wasn't surprising with the full load of responsibilities he had toward two businesses—but he still made it a point to spend each night with her. He'd even gone with her to her first ultrasound appointment. There'd been a sheen of tears in his eyes when he'd heard their baby's heartbeat. Ophelia didn't know how to feel about their relationship, about him. God, she was coming to care for the man even with all his pig-headed Dom behaviors, coming to depend on his assistance, and the sex was freaking outstanding. The man only had to glance at her, for pity's sake, and her body hummed in throbbing anticipation of the night ahead. Every night he'd say; 'I want to try this. Remember, your safeword is apple,' and then would proceed to gift her with another night of multiple orgasms. People at the university were beginning to comment on the fact that lately she was glowing. Their words, not hers. And as much as she wanted her new found perkiness to solely be because of her pregnancy, she feared that it was ten percent baby, and ninety percent Tobias.
He'd asked her to stay at his loft this weekend. Dungeon Pleasures had a masked ball happening on Saturday night in honor of Halloween, and he wanted her to attend it with him. With everything he had done for her, his willingness to do things on her terms when it came to the baby, she wanted to be there for him, she did, but she experienced tumultuous etchings of unease whenever she thought about the ball. She knew what it meant to him and his BDSM lifestyle. Tobias wanted to show her off in his world as his sub. And she'd been avoiding it. Which made her a wretched human being.
What it truly meant for her was that she would be venturing beyond the boundaries of the Arena, into the Devil's Lair and possibly beyond into the third and final Dungeon level of the club. Ophelia wasn't sure she was ready for that type of commitment; ready to perform a scene in front of strangers who'd see all there was of her. In the comfort and security of her own home, she trusted Tobias explicitly when he restrained her. So much so that she'd let him order a custom, king-sized, four-poster bed with overhead railings that would be there mid-November, and which would make it much easier for him to restrain her in all the ways he wanted. The bed was apparently one of the latest top of the line models in BDSM boudoir furniture.
He'd been leaving some of his clothing at her house, claiming a portion of the closet as his, stocking the bathroom with his toiletries. And, little by little, he was moving in with her. They'd spent a night or two at his place, using his private dungeon, but there was an unspoken tacit agreement between them that a loft above a BDSM club was not the place either of them wanted to raise their child.
But there was something about being on display at his club, the full admission of being his sub in front of people he considered his friends, which filled her with dread and terror. She'd even had a nightmare about it the previous night, and had woken Tobias up with her mad thrashing. She didn't think she was ready—or ever would be—to be that exposed. She knew that he wanted to do a scene with her in the second and third levels of his club. Every time she considered it, considered allowing it, icy chills suffused her veins. She didn't think she could go through with it. And if she didn't, Tobias would finally come to his senses and leave her, just like everyone else did.
That morning, as they'd been getting ready for work, she'd felt a flutter in her abdomen, and had dropped her bowl of cereal. Tobias had helped her clean everything up, treating her like a fragile flower as she blubbered that she'd felt their baby. He or she was still the size of a peanut, but not for long.
It had just finally felt so real, feeling the fluttering like butterfly wings in her belly, bringing it home to Lia that there really was this life inside her. Then there were her blasted hormones, which were all over the dang place. One minute she was happy as a clam, and then in the next, she was bawling over a sweet inspirational saying on the back of her chamomile tea box. It was a bit like having PMS on steroids, which her doctor assured her was normal, but she wondered if she should have Tobias remove all the sharp objects from her house in case he ever drove her mad with her hormones this out of whack.
The two of them were living in a little insulated bubble and she relished the microcosm of their private world. They ate dinner on the patio most nights. They would take walks up to Magnolia Avenue to enjoy the food trucks and eat frozen yogurt since her appetite had returned little by little. She was even having cravings, mainly frozen yogurt and ice cream, but after weeks of nibbling on saltine crackers she was enjoying the extra calories.
The smell of any raw meat still did her in, though, as she discovered the other night when she attempted to make a meatloaf and had to high tail it into the bathroom, but she was making progress, bringing more solid foods back into her diet. And all the while, Tobias was there, he was solid and steady as a rock. She was even learning more about him. A single mom had raised him, and she heard in his voice how much he loved and respected her. His dad had been an alcoholic who'd left him and his mom when he was about five and was never heard from again. Joyce had remarried and lived in Arizona. Apparently his mom was thrilled about the baby and was already making plans to come visit near the due date.
So it seemed as though they were forging a nice little family themselves. She knew about his PTSD, had actually walked in on him having an episode in the bathroom. He wasn't a big drinker because, as he put it, that was where all his demons liked to come and play, and he never wanted to be like his father. He might have a beer or two, but he kept it at that. Which, considering that one of his businesses served alcohol, was a bit ironic in her book, but he amazed her with his tenacity to do better. He'd do right by her and the baby. The custody agreement they'd had drawn up wasn't needed. But he signed it anyway.
Ophelia knew she was teetering on the brink of love. Her heart trembled every time she thought of him, and she found herself smiling more these days than ever before. But she pulled herself back every time she came close to telling him, and it seemed like he was waiting for her to admit it. He'd watch her, her feelings bubbling over inside, but she'd try to say them, would stutter and say something asinine. And he just kept watching with his patient amber eyes and warm sturdy smile.
As the days progressed, leading up to the big celebration weekend at Dungeon Pleasures, Ophelia couldn't shake the dread shadowing her every movement. Her anxiety skyrocketed as she drove with her stuffed overnight bag to Pasadena, and Tobias's loft. It was barely eight and the club parking lot was already packed. Ophelia drove her little four door hybrid car around to the back as he'd instructed.
She pulled into the attached garage with the remote he'd given her, and parked. Grabbing her weekend bag, she exited the vehicle and garage door with her keys in her hand, locking the door behind her. The doors between the garage and the back entrance to his place were maybe twenty feet apart, but it was dark, deserted, with alleys that intersected nearby, and was quite a distance away from the crowded entrance of the club.
She walked briskly. Her feet clicked over the pavement and soon she was ten feet from the entrance door.
"Well, now, what do we have here, boys?" a drunken voice, besotted with drink, snickered; the words carrying an undertone of menace.
Ophelia's heart slammed into her ribcage. Three men, their frames hidden by the shadows, had just rounded the side of the alleyway on her right. Spurred into action, she raced to the door with the sound of their laughter tailing her. She should have asked Tobias to meet her at the entrance, or have him pick her up and drive her like he'd offered to. But no, she'd wanted to retain some of her independence, and had flatly refused his help.
Shit, shit, shit!
This was bad. She never should have come to his club on her own. She'd known something bad was going to happen. One of the men rushed her, reaching her mere feet before she made it to the door and her salvation. He cruelly pushed her face up against the wall as his buddies laughed behind them. She fought back, stomping her heel onto his booted foot, shoving at him with her body, but he had a distinct advantage over her.
> "Now, that's not nice, sugar. We're going to be friends, you and me." He shoved her hard, scraping her cheek against the concrete. Fear descended in lacerating waves. No matter what happened to her, she had to protect her baby.
"Please don't hurt me. I'll do whatever you want, just don't hurt me."
His breath, smelling profusely of whiskey, washed over her face. "Well now, that's the spirit, isn't it boys? Why don't you just come with us? We're going to have ourselves a little party."
"Sure, whatever you say, just don't hurt me." She knew even as she responded, acting like she was too scared to try anything, that if she went with these men, she'd be dead by morning. If she could get him to release her just a little bit she could make a run for the front of the club. She'd never get the back door open in time, but if she sprinted to where the Dungeon Pleasures' bodyguards were located, she'd be safe and could have them handle these men.
The ringleader dragged her with him toward his buddies and the deserted alleyway in the exact opposite direction from her salvation. Swallowing her fear, Lia rounded on him, and using her self-defense training, she punched his jugular. He gasped in pain, releasing her for the split second she needed to make her getaway. Ophelia spun on her heels and made a break for it. Feet pounding against the pavement, she raced around the corner, then began sprinting down the alley.
"After that bitch!" the ringleader swore, making her pump her legs harder, faster.
Her feet ate up the distance between her attackers and the club entrance. The steady thumping bass beat of the music reached her ears and had never sounded so sweet. She would make it; her child was counting on that fact. Not more than twenty feet from the last turn, the one which would put her in the line of sight of the bodyguards monitoring the clubgoers waiting to enter, arms seized her from behind.
"Let me go, you son of a bitch! Help, someone, please help me!" Ophelia screamed as loudly as she could, praying that someone would hear her above the club music and come to her aid. Her three pursuers had caught up with her. She could barely make out their faces in the dark. She didn't know whether seeing them would make what was sure to come worse or not.
"Help!" She screamed again at the top of her lungs, knowing it was useless, but trying anyway. One of the men smacked her across the face and her head spun, but the minor delay in her struggles managed to give these brutes enough time to restrain her fully. They escorted her back the way she had made her mad dash, toward her doom and away from the club entrance.
They had shoved a dirty sock into her mouth as a gag, held in place by one of the men's hands. They were carrying her, the first one at her head, with his hand over her mouth with the gag, the second at her waist, restraining her arms, and the third guy had her feet imprisoned in his arms. There were so many things running through her mind as tears poured from her eyes. Regrets, wishes, but the thing she was most upset about was that she knew her child would die and there was nothing she could do about it. She'd fight, she'd give everything she had, but in the end, they were stronger.
Darkness receded in the alley with the flick of a switch. Floodlights blared over their bodies, illuminating the alley in bright light.
"Let her go." Tobias's voice cut through the haze of fear like a benediction. He is here was all she could think as she squirmed even harder.
"Frank, she's not worth it, just give her to him," the guy holding her feet said.
"Yeah, Frank, hand her over and this will end pleasantly for you," Tobias murmured, his voice deadly cool and calm, belying a hint of menace.
"And if I don't?" Frank sneered, tightening his grip on her body.
"You don't want to find out. You have three seconds to comply. Three, two, one. Time's up."
Most of what happened seemed to blur before her eyes. She watched Tobias and a few of his club bodyguards take the men down. Frank put up a fight, using her body as a shield at first until she kneed him in the groin. He still managed to land a few solid punches on Tobias. But Tobias flattened him, doing a TKO number that had him flat on his back and unconscious. By the time the flashing lights from the police cruisers arrived on the scene, Tobias and his team had subdued her attackers. They called an ambulance to patch up Frank before he wound up in the back of one of the cruisers. The paramedics gave her a once over at the scene. Even though the injuries she sustained weren't serious, the paramedics, upon learning she was pregnant, urged Lia to let them take her to the emergency room and get her checked out via ultrasound just to be on the safe side.
Shaken to her very core, she agreed, wanting to get away from the club at all costs. And she wanted to make sure her baby had remained unharmed in the scuffle. They had given her an IV to get some fluids into her, and had blankets piled over her to keep her shivering to a minimum. She was just so cold. They said it was shock from the trauma. Thinking about what had almost happened tonight, what could have happened had Tobias not been there, made her whole body tremble.
"Sir, only family and significant others are allowed in the ambulance."
"This is the mother of my child, I'm coming," Tobias stated, climbing in the back of the ambulance with his commanding, I-dare-you-to-try-and-stop-me attitude that brooked no further argument from the EMT as they shut the doors and carted her off to the hospital.
After the night she'd had, his words cut her to the bone. That was how he perceived her, as the mother of his child—not his girlfriend or significant other, or woman he was practically living with, just the baby maker. That seemed to sum up their entire relationship. He felt obligated to be there for their child, nothing more, not due to tenderness or any soft emotions toward her. It made sense, her mind understood his need to be there for his child at all costs, but her heart was shattering into a million pieces. He picked up her hand, linking their fingers, but she didn't grip his in return.
The ride to the emergency room was relatively short. However, nothing spells the eleventh circle of hell quite like the emergency room on the Friday night before Halloween. Since Lia had been attacked, a female uniformed officer joined the doctor and nurse with her in the examination room. Officer Lisa Gunther, a straight-laced, no-nonsense, stocky blonde, took photos and detailed notes of every scrape and bruise.
"Where were you headed this evening?" Office Gunther asked, noting the marks on Lia's arms. Constantly taking notes, the woman never stopped writing, barely looking her in the face other than to assess the damage.
"To Dungeon Pleasures," Ophelia replied. The doctor, nurse, and officer all shared a look. It was one of those shocked enlarging of the eyes, followed by a superior, holier-than-thou glare, as if to say 'what should she expect going to a place like that' and it infuriated her. Just because she had patronized a BDSM club in no way shape or form meant she had been asking for it or deserved it.
"I see, and what where you doing there?" Office Gunther asked, with the merest hint of rudeness under her breath.
"Does it matter?" Lia could see the judgement stamped across their faces at the mere mention of the club. And this crowd would never see it as anything but an abhorrence; a threat to everything they hold dear.
"Merely formalities, miss."
Uh huh, right. And she was the Easter bunny. "I'm seeing the club owner, Tobias Ford. We are expecting a child in May and I was on my way to visit him tonight. I have keys to get in the back entrance. They attacked me, I tried to get away. Tobias and his security team were able to subdue them. The end."
Ophelia sighed internally as the trio exchanged more looks.
"Thank you. I'm sure it's been a trying evening. Doctor, if you find anything else that we need to know about, please send it all to me here." Office Gunther handed the nurse her card.
Then she turned to Lia and handed her a card, as well. "When you are feeling better, we will need you to come to the police department and give your formal statement, okay? If I'm not there, any of the uniforms can take your statement, just give them this card with the case number on it." She pointed to the number that had
been handwritten on the bottom.
"Thanks." Ophelia accepted the card.
After the officer had left, the doctor did a pelvic examination and ultrasound just to make sure everything checked out okay with her baby. Thankfully, despite the night's adventures, no harm had come to her little nugget. By the time all the tests had been run, and the discharge papers signed, it was nearly four in the morning. Tobias had gone home for a bit, at her urging, while they were running tests, to grab his car and the overnight bag she'd dropped in the alley.
Tobias treated her like glass as he helped her into his car and drove her home. She could only stare at the night sky. She had too many decisions to make, but there was one in particular she kept circling back to; her relationship with Tobias. She couldn't hold him if he was only in it for the baby. That was not what she wanted. If that was the only thing keeping him at her side, he would end up resenting her eventually.
He helped her out of the car, escorting her up to the front door.
"Thank you for seeing me home. I'll call you in a few days, okay?" she said. Much, much later… after she had got some much-needed rest and had some time to mull over what her next steps should be.
"I'm not leaving you alone tonight, Lia. That's not a good idea and you know it." He opened the door and she rushed past him. She couldn't let him touch her or she'd be lost and wouldn't have the strength to do what needed to be done.
"The men are locked up in the county jail overnight and until bond is set. They aren't going to come for me tonight. And I'd like to be alone, if you don't mind. I'm sorry you missed getting the club set up for the masked ball tomorrow, really I am. I don't think it's a good idea for me to attend it. I'm sorry, I know how much you were looking forward to it, but I can't go back there right away, not after tonight. Now, if you would be so kind, I'm really tired," she tried again.