She’d just taken the bracelet off to shower when her phone rang.
Probably Daniel.
But an unknown number flashed on the display. She answered with a frown. “Hello?”
“Julie Masterson, please,” someone said, speaking over a large amount of background noise.
“This is Julie Masterson.”
“Ms. Masterson, this is Hope from Northeastern General Hospital. You’re listed as the emergency contact for Sasha Blake.”
She pressed a hand against the wall to steady herself. Sasha. “Is she there? Is she okay?”
“She’s been admitted and is currently listed as stable.”
“I’ll be right there. Where’s she at?”
“In the Emergency Department, waiting for a room.”
Julie whispered thanks and hung up with trembling hands. She had to get to the hospital. Where were her keys? She fumbled in her purse, repeating over and over again that Sasha must be okay, because the caller said she was stable.
It wasn’t until she was halfway to the hospital that she remembered Sasha had said she was spending the evening with Peter.
They’d moved Sasha to a room by the time Julie made it to the hospital. Running around, first to the ER and then up to the floor to Sasha’s room, left Julie feeling harried and even more upset. Turning the last corner, she stomped to the room they told her Sasha was in and took several deep breaths to calm herself before pushing the door open.
It took her eyes a few minutes to adjust to the dim light and when they did, they settled on the blanket covering the fragile-looking bundle in the middle of the bed. Sasha. But her positioning looked odd and it took Julie a second to realize it was because she was on her stomach.
Julie wondered for the two hundredth time what had happened. She tiptoed forward, unable to tell if her friend slept or not.
“Sasha?” she whispered.
The bundle shifted slightly. “Jules?”
She rushed forward and stopped only when she saw Sasha’s red-rimmed eyes and wet cheeks. “What? What happened?”
A silent sob shook through Sasha’s frame and she hissed in pain. “I can’t . . . not yet . . . just sit with me?”
Without saying anything, Julie took her friend’s hand and sat in the chair beside the bed.
Julie was there for hours, but she didn’t sleep at all. It seemed like nurses were in and out of the room every hour, checking blood pressure, seeing if Sasha needed pain medication, and one time asking Julie to step outside while they changed dressings. Still no one told her what had happened and every time the nurse left, Sasha faked sleep.
Even with every imagined reason she came up with for why Sasha was in the hospital, she was unprepared for the two police officers who knocked and entered the room at six o’clock the next morning. She was even less prepared for the person she saw entering behind them.
She stood up. “Daniel?”
He didn’t look shocked to see her; he looked resigned. Nodded in her direction. “Julie.” Then he breezed past her and bent down to talk to Sasha. He whispered, but standing so close, Julie couldn’t help but hear. “Tell them what happened in as much or as little detail as you want. Press charges if you wish. Just know that, regardless, this will be handled.”
What the hell happened?
“Ma’am,” one of the officers said to Julie. “Can you step outside? We need to speak to your friend alone.”
She jerked a thumb toward Daniel. “Does he get to stay?”
“No.” Daniel put a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s wait outside.”
She slipped out of his grasp and stomped to the door. Angry tears threatened to spill from her eyes and she steeled herself. She would not cry.
When the door closed behind him, she spun to face him. “Will you tell me what the fuck is going on and what the hell you’re doing here?”
He raised an eyebrow. “She didn’t tell you?”
“Don’t answer my question with a question.”
“I think it best she tell you herself. It’s not my place. I’m here because Peter called me.”
She’d come to the realization Peter was involved around two o’clock in the morning. Nothing else made sense.
“I knew that piece of shit was involved. Where is the asshole?”
He leaned close and whispered, “I’m going to give you five seconds to drop the attitude and clean up the language.”
She crossed her arms. “Don’t even think about pulling—”
His hand clamped around her wrist. “Best decision you can make right now is to not finish that sentence. I understand you’re upset. I’m upset. But Sasha needs your support, probably for longer than you realize, and your outbursts aren’t going to help.”
Three deep breaths and she bit back the response dancing on her tongue. “Maybe I could be supportive if I knew what happened.”
He shook his head. “It’s best you hear it from her.”
She wiped her eyes. Damn tears. “I’ve been sitting by her bed listening to her gasp in pain every time she moves the wrong way and you have the nerve to stand there and not tell me what happened?”
He closed his eyes and sighed. When he looked at her again, his expression was flat. “The short version is, Peter took a scene too far and used equipment he had no business using.”
She didn’t understand. “Did she use her safe word?”
He pursed his lips into a line. “He didn’t give her a way to safe word.”
Shock, then rage, coursed through her body. How could something like that happen? “You knew this and you had the nerve to tell me to watch my language? Just wait until I get my hands on him, I’ll rip his—”
He took her shoulder, guided her down the hall, and spoke through clenched teeth. “Watch it. Last warning.”
He led her to a private waiting area and nodded to a chair. She sat. He stood before her, arms crossed, looking down at her.
“Did I or did I not tell you that nothing happens to a submissive without their consent?” He held up a hand when she tried to speak. “I’m not saying Peter is blameless. I’m just saying Sasha isn’t either. She should have never started the scene.”
Julie didn’t quite know what to make of that. But after a few minutes, she did remember that he had always said she was the one who decided how far they went. Then it started to make sense. “I still don’t know exactly what happened.”
“Sasha will tell you when she’s ready.”
He wasn’t going to tell her. Even so, she still had plenty of questions she could ask him. “What did you mean when you told her it’d ‘be handled’?”
His eyes grew cool, colder than she’d ever seen. Something inside them scared her. “You remember asking me what happens when a Dom in our group violates a sub’s hard limit?”
She remembered him saying an over-the-knee spanking would seem like a reward. She nodded.
“I suppose,” he said, “it’ll be a lot like that.”
The policemen had left by the time Julie collected herself enough to make it back to Sasha’s room. Unable to feign sleep any longer, her friend was sitting up and eating. She gave Julie a wary smile and set her spoon down.
“Daniel leave?”
“Yeah, said he had things to take care of.” Like letting everyone know the meeting had been postponed to another week. Just as well, she supposed; she doubted anyone would be in the mood.
“He tell you?”
Julie sat down in the chair she’d spent the night in. “Not much of anything. He said it would be better coming from you.”