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Chapter Thirty-Five

Ian

“You sure about this, Coco?”

She looked back and forth between him and Huds from where she sat on the floor of the living room, uncertainty scrawled across her features and guilt stabbed at his heart.

“Oh, hey. If you’re sure, I think that’s great. Daddy and I are happy that you want to try. It just seems like kind of a big deal and it’s been a rough week around here.”

That was an understatement. Despite Ry mostly lurking around like a troll and not showing his face for a whole bunch of the past three months, they all felt his absence keenly. Especially Stella who had been caterwauling at all hours and wandering the loft like a scorned woman. He kind of wished Ry would’ve taken the damn cat with him.

Coco rolled her lips between her teeth, held Hopscotch closer to her chest, and seemed to reconsider.

Way to go, Galbraith. You’re supposed to build her up, make her feel confident, not make her question her choices.

If it had been something he thought really endangered her of course he’d put his foot down, but she was so cautious and still kinda skittish like a bunny she never asked for anything unreasonable.

“I…I think it will be okay,” she said, that stubborn, brave set to her mouth. “You’ll just be downstairs and if I need you I can come get you or use my phone. Easy peasy.”

“Easy peasy Cosy squeezy,” Hudson teased, pulling her onto his lap and tickling her sides. She giggled and squirmed before protesting, “Daddy! Daddy, stop!”

Huds gave her a few more tickles and then wrapped their little girl in his thick arms where she laid her head on his big shoulder and tucked her paci in her mouth.

There was still a nagging feeling in his stomach but he blamed Hud for that. Ian had never been like this—never been an overprotective fret factory—but with Coco… Yeah, he had to restrain himself from being a helicopter Papa and not fuss over her all the time. Ridiculous. Good thing she was dead set on being more independent, otherwise he might’ve let his worst instincts take over.

“It’s going to be totally fine,” Hudson reassured her. “After Papa gives you lunch, we’ll go upstairs and play for a little bit and then you can either take a nap or keep playing while Papa and I go downstairs for the meeting. It’ll just be a couple of hours, you’ll be so busy with your ponies and the dollhouse you won’t even notice we’re gone.”

They were meeting with the owners of Savage and a few of the other clubs around the area to talk about how to handle bad apples, what their memberships had been asking for, maybe doing some joint events, that kind of thing.

It could be fun to get together with their peers—it’s not like you met people who understood what you did all day when you owned a kink club instead of being a teacher or a doctor or a bartender or whatever, and it was nice to have people to talk to who understood the highs and lows of what they did. Even if you didn’t all get along, like Raven from Savage. That woman just rubbed him the wrong way, always had.

At least it would hopefully get his mind off Ry for a couple hours.

They’d only had a couple texts from him since he’d left. One to say he was renting a house on the beach—not hard to do when the weather was godawful. Who went to the beach when you’d get frostbite from dipping a toe in the water? That fucking guy. And another text to remind them to run payroll since Ry always did that.

It hadn’t been easy running the club without him and also looking after Coco but they were managing. Yeah, it would be nice not to be obsessing over Ry for a couple of hours like he was some pining teenager and mother hen wrapped into one. He was becoming broody and insufferable and it was way more fun to be zany and insufferable.

Ian shook his head to clear it and stood up from where he’d been sitting on the couch, snagged Coco from Hud’s lap and swung her up onto his hip. She was getting heavier which was great because she’d needed to gain a bunch of weight but also he was going to have to start lifting more if he wanted to keep up.

“Alright, sweetheart. Let’s get some lunch into your tummy. Today is fish sticks, mushy peas, and apple sauce.”

Coco let her paci drop and it hung from the tether on her collar as she replied, “Nom, nom, nom,” while swinging her feet. Sweet precious thing. They’d figure things out with Ry and everything would be fine. Just had to be because the alternatives were unacceptable.

* * *

Cosima

Daddy and Papa had been downstairs for about half an hour and she was fine. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t nervous, but it was manageable, like her anxiety when they went on field trips or walks. Of course those had the pleasure of going someplace fun, or seeing her friends, or holding Daddy or Papa’s hand or best of all, all of those things. But she suspected she would be richly rewarded when they came back from their meeting for being a brave girl and she loved to make them happy and proud.

She’d finished coloring her pictures with her favorite glitter crayons—a frog for Daddy and a fire truck for Papa that she had signed for them with hearts in place of the o in her name—and now she was brushing out the mane of one of her ponies.

Velvet Rainbow was her favorite. Unfortunately playing with her so much meant that her glossy mane got tangled. She would brush it until there were no tangles, no knots, and then she would braid it to keep it nicer.

Cosima was about to crawl over to the little bin of elastics and ribbons when there was a sound behind her. They must be done early!

Joy flooded her, and her mouth curved into the smile they told her they loved. She didn’t let the paci fall from her mouth but held it between her lips as she shifted to plop on her bottom but she never got there.

Suddenly she was sprawled on the floor on her tummy, all the air in her lungs crushed out by what felt like someone standing on her spine. She couldn’t breathe. Panic gripped her even as the boot let up and it should’ve because then the pressure was back, harder than before. Daddy and Papa and Sir would never, so who—

The hard heel of the boot dug into her ribs and then what felt like a steel toe was pushed into the base of her skull.

“Did you miss me, you filthy, worthless cumrag?”

No, no, it couldn’t be. Couldn’t. Couldn’t be Master. Daddy and Papa and Sir kept her safe. Master had left her for dead, he couldn’t—

She let out a strangled cry as the boot shifted to press on her throat and she struggled to get him off but he would crush her, she knew he would. Worst of all, there was the press of cold metal to her temple. Master had used knives, bats, sap gloves, quarters wrapped in a sock, all kinds of weapons on her but now he’d done what he’d always threatened to do. He’d gotten his hands on a gun.

“Knock it off, you stupid bitch unless you want your precious Daddy and Papa to find your brains blown out all over this disgusting room. I knew you were into some sick shit, but I had no idea. Now you’re going to listen up and obey every damn word I say or I’m going to slaughter all of you.”


Tags: Honey Meyer Erotic