Instantaneous relief coursed through her veins, her eyes closing on the brief rush of calm. She heard Finn's voice rumble with his order, then blinked at him when he nudged her. “Ava, darlin', what would you like?”
She shook her head. “Nothing, thanks.”
His sigh was displeased. “She'll have a soda and one of those Bomb-things. No arguments,” he murmured.
Go back to your happy place. No one can touch you there.
Ava closed her eyes again and dug her nails into her legs once more, pushing them deeper into the material for a harder bite.
It wasn't much, not nearly enough to mimic the burn, but it skimmed off some of the rough bumps of anxiety.
Or did, until the tiny bites of pain were flattened, along with her fingers, against her pants. Firmly pinned by a much bigger, warmer hand. She suddenly had difficulty swallowing, aware she'd been caught in the act. A shiver rippled down her spine as warm breath caressed her ear. “I'm beginning to believe you enjoyed your figging far more than you're prepared to let on, little dove, if you're willing to risk another so soon after the last.”
Ava shook her head earnestly. “No! No, Sir,” she amended in a quieter tone, hiding in the darkness behind her closed eyelids.
“Behave yourself then,” he warned sternly, but the hand covering hers squeezed gently. “We'll find another way, Ava. We will, but you have to pay attention to what Madeline tells you. She's our best shot at understanding this. Hands on the edge of the table, little one, and keep them there. You don't want to spend the return flight home with a fresh piece of ginger root making your acquaintance, do you?”
“Absolutely not, Sir,” she whispered, feeling her face grow hot. That was an absolutely no fucking way, Sir, but they were in polite company. Polite company who was no doubt studying Ava like a bug squished between two glass slides under a microscope.
“Good girl. Now, you can open your eyes. No more hiding.”
Reluctantly, she obeyed. Unable to look at her Dom or the doctor, Ava's eyes bounced around the room until they landed on the two men who kept drawing her attention. The one with blue eyes smiled at her, but the dark one wore a glower fierce enough to make her belly roil. Was he angry? If he was, with whom and why? With her? But she didn't know him. Did she? No, she was sure she didn't.
As the questions whipped into a frenzy, she gulped. The man's eyebrow lifted in the same authoritative manner Finn's did, and he jerked his chin toward her table as though telling her to mind her own business. He could certainly masquerade as a Dom if he had the urge; Ava pitied any woman who submitted to him. He'd eat subs alive.
“Ava, we're over here, darlin'.”
She squeaked her chair closer to Finn's and hooked her hand over his thigh, leaning into him as those dark eyes seemed to bore holes into her. “Sorry.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I'm good. Okay. Fine. Whatever,” she mumbled, darting a glance to her right. She was no longer the center of the man's attention, but only because he'd switched that dark glare to the woman in front of her. His blue-eyed friend was obviously amused, but again, his focus was directed at the doctor. “They're watching you, you know.”
The psychologist's violet eyes widened a fraction before following the direction of Ava's. She frowned when she saw the two men, then rolled her eyes impatiently. “For God's sake,” she muttered. “Just ignore them, Ava. They want what they can't have, so we'll pretend they're not there. Although,” she added with a smirk aimed at the men, “the one with blue eyes should probably wipe the drool off his chin before someone notices.”
The guy's hand lifted to his mouth—presently drool-free—then dropped again as he realized he'd been duped. “Why, you little—” He went to stand up; Finn beat him to the punch, straightening to his full height and folding his arms across his chest.
“Might want to rethink that idea, buddy,” Finn growled. “These ladies are off-limits, so just finish your drinks and take a hike if you're looking for trouble.”
“Mr. McLeod—”
Both men stood now, not quite as tall as Finn, but evidently not slouches in the fitness arena.
Ava clung to Finn's jeans, her grasp breaking as he stalked around the table, keeping the women safely at his back. Jesus, if there was a brawl in here, people were going to get hurt. Her lover was strong and fit, and his opponents didn't look any younger than he was, but it was two against one with all other variables on an even keel. Her heart was in her throat as the three men squared up, sizing each other quietly.
Blue Eyes slid his gaze over to his friend. “What do you think? Did he pass the test?”
Test? What test? Ava felt dizzy, on the verge of passing out as the tension seeped away. Finn stood still on alert, but the other two grinned at each other and lost their combative stances. She leaned forward, hooked her fingers in the waistband of Finn's jeans and tried to tug him backwards, out of their reach.
“Yeah,” the other one drawled slowly, rubbing his chin. “I think he gets the seal of approval.”
Madeline propped her elbows on the table, let her head fall into her hands. “Why must you embarrass me this way every single time I meet a potential client? We're in a public place, for God's sake, and I told you I'd be home before nine.”
Finn still hadn't relaxed. He didn't move except to glance over his shoulder at the doctor. “You know them?”
Madeline's skin was a glorious shade of red Ava could sympathize with when she raised her head. “Mr. McLeod, I'd like to introduce you to Agents Joseph Crocker and Nathaniel Morgan, my...significant others,” she hedged as the waitress approached with a tray and some haste. “Joseph, Nathaniel, this is Finn McLeod and his girlfriend, Ava.”
While Finn shook hands with the agents, Ava took the opportunity to drag her nails all the way up her legs from knee to the top of her thighs with enough pressure to make it hurt. Her anxiety levels were currently at twelve on a ten-point scale, which equated to an overload of stress she couldn't handle.
The waitress set out the coffee in the correct places, removing Madeline's previous cup and replacing it. A tall glass of coke slipped under Ava's nose, joined by a bright white plate bearing a powdered puff of pastry overflowing with rich chocolate from a hole in the center. A fork, spoon, and knife wrapped in a napkin was placed beside the plate, but Ava's attention dismissed everything around her save for the gleam of light on that pretty silver knife.
It's not sharp enough to cut deep, her father teased in his sing-song voice. That bossy master of yours can't shout at you for using it, can he? It's dull and serrated, barely sharp enough to scratch. But maybe it will bring you what you need, stupid little bitch, if you're so desperate. Desperate enough to break his rules and his trust. I don't blame you. Take it before they notice if you're brave enough.
Ava wet her lips cautiously. Her nerves were strung out, emotion churning inside her to the point of ripping her into pieces on their way to the exit. Her gaze hopped from person to person, noting the doctor was now engaged in an energetic battle of words with her Dominants, apparently trying to apologize to Finn while explaining their actions.
Words passed over Ava's head in a muffled fog, like a murmuration of swallows. All noise and movement.
The metal was cool under her fingertips as they stroked the flat surface of the blade. She couldn't remember putting her hand on the table. She was detached from herself as her fingers brushed over the silver lovingly, then slid the utensil from its cotton sheath and slipped it up the sleeve of her jacket, keeping the serrated edge in her palm. Gripping it hard enough to feel it bite.
She moaned.
As one, the people around her turned, spreading out to form a wall. She sank down into her chair with apprehension, brutally unnerved by the three pairs of dominant eyes giving her the evils. Dom radar, she surmised, came into effect whenever there was a submissive in range. They all wore expressions of what are you up to, little one?
Madeline's study of her was more curiou
s, assessing. It wasn't a fellow submissive watching Ava, it was the psychologist, and she was quickly piecing together things Ava would rather she didn't.
“Pr-Problem?” she asked weakly.
“I don't know, little minx, is there?”
Shit. Finn was onto her. Little minx was an omen. He cocked his head, staring at her until she began to fidget. Sweat began to pearl at her temples. She was facing a firing squad of one and, just her luck, he was a crack shot. If she flinched, he would hit the bullseye. “No, Sir. No problem here. Nuh-uh.”
Madeline's body jerked subtly. Ava caught the movement and counted down the seconds until the shrink gave her away. She didn't dare break eye contact with Finn to send the doctor a silent plea, but she tried her hardest to forge a mental connection to pass along the message. Please don't tell on me. Please don't.
“Nathaniel, why don't you and Joseph take Finn to a different table—one where you can't eavesdrop on private client discussions—for a few minutes? Finn and Ava have the same plans we do, and I'm sure we'd all like get there in good time.” Madeline picked up her coffee, blew gently, then sipped. “The whole point of this meeting was for Ava and I to get to know each other outside of doctor-patient boundaries. We can't do that with a wall of testosterone standing over us.”
“Is our pet giving us an order?” Joseph wondered.
“I do believe it sounds that way...” Nathaniel mused.
“May I remind you this is part of my job? As much as I love the two of you, you have a tendency to interfere. Finn, are you happy leaving Ava with me for a few minutes?” Madeline gave Ava a pointed stare, which she read as Do your part here, otherwise you're screwed.
Nodding, Ava's voice squeaked out. “I-I think I'd like to...talk to the doctor, Finn. It's a bit intimidating, having three...big, strong men listening to...” She bit her lip, swallowing back bile as the knife warmed in her grasp. “Would you mind?”
The doctor's Doms were already picking up their cups and moving toward a table farther back, with Joseph skimming his hand gently over his sub's hair as he passed. But Finn...Finn wasn't buying it.
“What are you hiding, little dove?” he murmured, circling the table until he stood beside her. One hand on the table, the other on the back of her chair, he leaned down. “I know you're hiding something, Ava. If I leave you alone with Dr. Parrish, are you going to tell her what's wrong?”
“I'll try.” She tilted her head back to look at him, suddenly drowning in regret for taking the stupid knife. Her guilt didn't evaporate when he sighed and brushed his lips over hers; her heart bounded into her throat, however, when he shifted and slipped his hand under the table. His fingers pried open her fist, curled around the knife, and plucked it out of her grasp. “Finn—”
Another kiss, even softer than the first, then his forehead rested against hers. “Talk to the doc, Ava. This needs to stop.”
She slumped dejectedly in her seat as he set the knife beside her plate, then reached over and grabbed his coffee. With a nod, he wandered away, no doubt to exchange stories with his new best friends and plot her newest punishment with like-minded individuals.
“So,” Madeline began cautiously, “we've had an exciting evening so far. Nothing like my usual introduction to a new client. I'm sorry my guys scared you like that; they're overprotective when I meet strangers outside the office, especially if there's a man involved. They have suspicious minds,” she added, “hence the test. They just want to keep me safe, even when they don't need to.”
“Yeah, I get that.” Ava wished she had a cup of coffee to warm her hands. Instead, she sipped her soda and tried not to dwell on whatever Finn was presently cooking up for her. “I guess you want to talk about the knife, huh?”
“Not tonight, no. This isn't a session, Ava. I understand you have a few issues, what with the voices and your desire to self-harm. They're already on the table; we can discuss them if you want to. We can stay here all night and talk about whatever you need to, that's what I'm here for. But I get the feeling you need to scope the situation, and me, before you'll trust me enough to open up.” The doctor put her cup down, picked up the bundle of cutlery and unwrapped it neatly. She selected the fork and, with precision, used the edge of it to slice into the pastry. “We're all different in how we talk about the things that bother us. We just need to find the right way for you.”
“What if this is all wrong?”
“I'm curious to know if you think this is the wrong path. Do you believe I'm the right person for you to talk to now you've met me? I find that therapy becomes more effective if there's a connection between doctor and patient. Not romantic or sexual, perhaps not even a bond of friendship, but a thread which links the two individuals and creates a platform of trust to build on. For me personally, I feel we have the potential to work well together, but it's not my opinion that counts right now.”
Ava watched the doc pop a mouthful of sugary goodness in her mouth and pressed her lips in a tight line. Tempted to devour her own pastry, she thought if she gave in, she'd probably throw it back up with the nerves churning in her belly. This kind of talk opened up avenues to intimacy she wasn't prepared to give someone she barely knew.
She wasn't prepared to, but she wanted to, and that scared her.
Madeline was checking off all the boxes on the list Ava had once compiled when she dreamed of her mother. Kind, compassionate, understanding. She had nice eyes and smelled good. So yeah, there was something there, something to build on as Madeline stated. Ava just didn't think it was strong enough to hold their weight quite yet.
“Look, don't make a decision tonight. We'll finish our drinks, you can sample the greatest pastry in D.C., and we'll change the subject. All I'll say is, if you want to go ahead with sessions but you don't want to travel from the vast wilderness of Montana every time, we can work around that if it's an issue. Phone, Zoom meetings, email are all viable ways of communication.” Another bite of pastry disappeared. “So, change of subject.”
Ava winced inwardly, braced for a question designed to push her over the edge.
“What's your rancher like as a Dom?”
Chapter 12
Finn
Finn tucked his quiet sub close to his side as they walked toward the psychic shop where Black Light's hidden entrance waited. Ava had been subdued since they left the coffee shop, after an hour of what had appeared to be a riveting conversation with Dr. Parrish. He'd even seen her crack the briefest smile, which raised his hopes for a positive outcome.
He'd spent the hour with two interesting and highly intelligent men. The FBI agents were different from each other but unified when it came to dominating their submissive. They'd even given Finn some things to consider when it came to Ava. It turned out Nathaniel was somewhat of a knife play connoisseur and he'd been open to explaining how the knife felt like an extension of his body. How wielding a blade and Madeline's submission combined into a heady sensation of power.
It made Finn wonder if that was how Ava saw it. If dominating herself with the knife gave her back some of the power she lost when the voices infiltrated her head or whether it all came down to the physical pain. It was certainly a question he intended to ask when the time was right. It had also brought to light an option he hadn't thought of before.
There was always the possibility therapy wouldn't have the desired effect on Ava, he was aware of that. Prepared for that. They might be able to reduce the regularity with which her father tormented her, maybe even eradicate him completely, but she might always need to succumb to the burn. It was ingrained now, as much as an addiction for her as heroin. Going cold turkey, as she was now, could work. Or it might drive her to binge on cutting when her self-control weakened.
If the pain he gave her with sex and floggers and all the tools at his disposal couldn't compare to cutting, then they had to find a way to make cutting safe for her. He needed to decide if he could go against his own moral code and not only hurt her but harm her as well. Part of him rec
oiled in horror at the idea.
Both knife play and blood play were on her hard limit list for a very good reason, and he was loath to break those limits. It was, however, the only solution he could think of to a problem that could only get worse. Taking the knife in his hand, cutting her himself, scarring her beautiful skin...giving her what she craved in a safe and sane manner rather than her hacking blindly at her own body.
Should therapy not alleviate her urges, he had to consider it as an option.
Goddamn it.
“Are you looking forward to tomorrow, darlin'? A whole day in the spa, catching up with Rosie, relaxing and being pampered for hours.” Banal conversation, he mused with a frown. At least it was breaking up the silence between them as they rounded the corner onto the long stretch of street leading to the club.
“You're not going to ask how it went or how I feel about Madeline?” Ava asked suspiciously, completely bypassing his opening olive branch and addressing what he didn't want to pressure her over.
“Considering you're calling her by her name instead of just, The Shrink, I'm assuming you made good progress. No, I'm not going to pry into what you discussed. What was said between you two stays there until you can confide in me. If she's your safe haven for the shit you're drowning in, you have to feel safe in knowing what is said stays private.”
“What did you think of her?”
Finn blinked. “She seems competent enough, both in person and on paper. Her Doms speak highly of her, she was approachable and easy to talk to. Is there something about her that concerns you?” He slowed their pace, giving her time to unload whatever was bothering her. As soon as they crossed the threshold into Black Light, he would demand her full attention as a sub for the remainder of the night.
“Actually...I kinda liked her.” It was a stubborn admission, as though Ava was reluctant to say the words and kickstart a new chapter of her life where she had to interact with new people. “She didn't make me feel stupid. People do, sometimes, and it hurts. She was telling me about how she juggles two Doms and some of the things...” Ava trailed off, and beneath the streetlights, Finn caught the fiery blush highlighting her cheeks. “They have a very active sex life.”
Black Light: Branded Page 21