She was quiet for such a long time, Julie wondered if she felt well enough to continue. “We can finish later if you want.”

“I told them I didn’t want to press charges.”

“Are you regretting that now?” Julie asked. “Do you want to press charges?”

Sasha shook her head. “I don’t think so. How can I when it was my fault, too?”

“What happened after the flogger?”

“I hadn’t made it into subspace yet. I was close, I think.” She sighed. “So much I’ve blocked. What I remember next was the pain. Searing. Like I was being burned over and over. All up and down my back. I tried to get away, but I was bound so tightly, I couldn’t move. And I kept yelling ‘red’ over and over . . . gagged . . . he couldn’t hear.” She spoke through little hiccuping sobs and she kept closing and releasing her fist.

It took Julie a second to understand she was safe wording, releasing an invisible bell over and over.

Sasha blew her nose and continued, apparently through the worst part of the story. “They told me I passed out. Next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital. Apparently, my back’s in pretty bad shape. I’m afraid to look at it.”

Julie took her friend’s hand and squeezed. “Oh, Sasha.”

“I’m not even sure where he got it. I know he doesn’t have any experience in using one.”

“What did he use?”

“A bullwhip.” Her lower lip started to tremble and Julie knew whatever bravado she’d briefly put on had reached its limit.

Julie went about getting Sasha into a comfortable position, all the while trying to keep her own feelings at bay. Nothing worked; in her mind she kept seeing Sasha bound, gagged, and desperately trying to safe word. After a while the image morphed and she was the one struggling to break free.

* * *

An hour later she was still sitting beside Sasha’s bed when Daniel came back. He didn’t say anything; he simply walked across the floor to stand beside her. His hand rested lightly on her shoulder.

“When was the last time you slept?” he asked.

“I can’t remember.” She didn’t remember anything except Sasha’s fingers fluttering uselessly for a man who wasn’t paying attention.

The hand at her shoulder tightened. “You can’t be strong for her if you don’t take care of yourself.”

“I’ll sleep later.”

“She told you.”

“Yes.” Her body shook, remembering.

“Come here, baby.”

He barely had the words out when she pushed the chair back and flung herself into his strong embrace. In his arms, she finally let her guard down and allowed the tears to flow. He held her, whispering things she couldn’t make out, but that soothed her just the same.

“Why?” she asked when she could speak. “I don’t get it. You said a Dom cherished his sub above all, guarded her with his life. How could he do that to her?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t had a chance to discuss anything with him in detail yet, but I will.”

She didn’t miss the sharp edge of determination in his voice.

A knock on the door caused her to jump, but she stayed in his arms when the nurse entered.

“Time to change the dressing,” she said.

“I don’t suppose I could convince you to leave while they did this?” he asked in a whisper.

“No way. They had me leave last night, but since I’ll be the one changing it for her at home, I need to stay.”

Standing across the bed from them, the nurse gently roused Sasha and repositioned her. With the utmost care, she folded the sheet down, and removed the dressing. Daniel slipped his hand into Julie’s.

Angry red marks crisscrossed Sasha’s back. Many of the lines bled.

“Fucking hell,” Daniel said under his breath.

Julie swayed against him and slid into her chair. It looked even worse than she’d imagined.

“That bad, Jules? You look green,” Sasha said, so clearly trying to be brave.

Much too late she noticed Sasha’s gaze on her. “Sorry, it’s just . . . I didn’t . . .”

“No need to apologize. You didn’t do it and I know it looks bad, I can feel it.” Sasha’s eyes drifted shut and she started breathing slow and deep, though she jerked occasionally. Julie knew she was on a painkiller, and she was glad her friend could sleep through the discomfort of having the dressing changed.

The nurse worked quickly and silently. The entire time, Julie was acutely aware of Daniel’s presence beside her—his power, his strength, his being. And for the first time, that power and strength scared her.

* * *

Sasha was released from the hospital the next day. Julie insisted she stay with her, at least through the weekend. And when Sasha brought up working Monday, Julie told her it was out of the question.

By Sunday, Julie could clean and dress Sasha’s back without breaking into a cold sweat. The sense of fear she’d had in the hospital hadn’t returned. Of course, she hadn’t seen Daniel since Friday either. He’d called a few times, but between caring for Sasha and working out the schedule for how to run the shop alone, she hadn’t been able to see him.

She wasn’t ignoring him, she told herself; she was busy.

And if she put the red bracelet in her top dresser drawer, it was only because she didn’t know when the next meeting would be.

She didn’t quite know how to reach Sasha. Her once happy-go-lucky friend had sunk deep inside herself and refused to be drawn out. She answered questions with a “yes” or “no” and otherwise kept her conversation to as few words as necessary. Dena called on Sunday afternoon, but Sasha refused to talk to her. Instead she told Julie to tell her she was sleeping.

Julie didn’t want to leave her alone on Monday, but she had no choice—the shop had obligations to meet. Someone had to be there. Fortunately, it was a busy day, so she was able to keep her mind occupied with thoughts other than her hurting friend and Daniel.

Her cell phone rang right after she closed the door behind the day’s last customer. She looked at the display and sighed. Eventually, she would have to face the turmoil she was trying to ignore.

“Hey, Daniel.”

“Good to hear your voice, how are you doing?”

“Busy.” She eyed the clock on the wall, trying to judge how long it would take to get home and fix something for her and Sasha to eat. “Doing everything by myself is a bit much, you know?”

“I imagine it is, and once you get home, you’ll be tending Sasha.” His voice dropped. “Who takes care of you?”

She closed her eyes, knowing he probably heard her distancing herself every time they spoke. “I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time.”

He didn’t have to say anything; she could feel his displeasure through the phone. Something deep inside started to hurt.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said. “I’m just so tired.” It wasn’t much of a lie.

“I need to stop by your place tonight and speak to Sasha,” he said.

“We’ll be there. About what time?” She hated the way they were talking, as if there was nothing between them. It just wasn’t possible for her to do anything else at the moment.

“Seven.”

“Okay, I’ll make sure she’s awake. See you then,” she said, and hung up with a softly spoken good-bye.

I’m so sorry, Daniel.

* * *

Daniel hung up the phone with a muttered curse. He was losing her. When Sasha was in the hospital, he’d felt it, although he’d hoped once she was released, it would be better. And maybe it would get better. It hadn’t been that long. He just needed to give her space.

He raked a hand through his hair. Damn Peter and whatever the hell had been going through his mind Thursday night. Even after talking with him, he still wasn’t exactly sure what transpired, but he would get to the bottom of it. He had a meeting set up with him before he needed to head out to talk to Sasha.

Sasha.

He knew it wasn’t his fault and that there was nothing he could have done to prevent it, but he still felt guilty. She was a submissive in his group and he should have protected her. Had he missed some sign in Peter? He’d replayed in his mind all the times he’d seen him with a submissive and nothing stood out as being off.

Even still, whenever he thought of Sasha, he remembered the mass of welts and cuts on her back and it made him sick. As the recognized bullwhip expert in the group, he knew the training and practice its use required. Likewise, he recognized the handiwork of one who didn’t know what he was doing. His only question was how Peter hadn’t ended up in the hospital himself from the whip coming back to hit him.

He both dreaded and looked forward to seeing Julie. But even with all the turmoil he felt about their floundering relationship, he forced himself to focus on his upcoming conversation with Sasha. His heart was heavy when he pulled into Julie’s driveway hours later.

Julie wasn’t smiling when she opened the door. She simply pushed it wide open to let him pass. Sasha sat on the couch, her head down. He knew he was there for her, but he couldn’t ignore Julie.

He cupped her shoulder. “I can only imagine what you’re thinking and feeling, but don’t shut me out. Please.”

There was a particular sadness in her reply. “I’ll try.”

It was the best he could hope for.

Sasha stood up as he walked into the living room. “Ma- Ma-Master Covington.”

He flinched and waved to the couch. “Please. Have a seat and call me Daniel.”

“Can Julie stay?”

Typically, he liked to have a third person present for conversations like the one to come. However, he’d be lying to say he thought it a good idea for Julie to be that person. Regardless, she was the only one available, she had some knowledge of the lifestyle, and she was fiercely loyal to Sasha.