Before I can ask, she starts what sounds like a rehearsed speech while making super intense eye contact. “Emery, I would like to apologize to you for my behavior at Lizzottes. Things with Derek and I were over for months, and I shouldn’t have tried to approach him the way I did, especially when he was there with you. I’m sorry. Please accept my apology and know that if there is ever a time I can make it up to you, I will be more than willing.”
Dylan’s eyes drop away from mine, and she hangs her head.
I…what?
I study the woman in front of me, emotions flooding my already stressed-out system, and try to stay calm, but a question is literally burning the back of my throat. “Only for Lizzottes?”
Dylan’s head pops up and her brows crease with confusion. “Well, yes. I was chasing Derek to try and get him back before that, but I thought that was your first weekend together? I didn’t even know you were together until…well, until that day.”
Now it’s my turn to stare at her in confusion. “What about when you were kneeling at his feet, here, in the club, a few Fridays ago?”
Even I can hear the waspish tinge to my words, but I don’t care.
Her frown returns, then her mouth makes an O. She takes a step closer to me and holds her hands up between us. “No, oh, no. That was…that wasn’t me kneeling for Derek. Well, I guess it was, and it definitely may have looked like that, but no.” Dylan shakes her head, eyes wide. “That was me apologizing to him for my behavior.”
I stare at her skeptically as I cross my arms over my chest.
Dylan sighs and looks down at the ground, hands falling down to grasp each other. “I had no idea that you saw that, but I promise, I completely and totally understand that Derek and I are over.”
“Dylan—” I try to start, but then her head pops up, and there is a smile on her face.
“Oh, I can prove it! Look.” She ducks back behind the desk and grabs her phone, taps a few times, then offers it to me. “This is Caleb and Logan. They are my Masters.”
Slowly, I take the phone from her and look at the picture. Dylan is standing between two men, both of whom are dressed for a night at Obsession. Dylan, on the other hand, is in a plain white cotton shift dress and barefoot, hair brushed out smooth around her, with cuffs around her wrists.
“It’s from that night,” she murmurs as she swipes on her phone to show me another picture of her kneeling between the two men as they sit at barstools by the bar. “We’ve been together for a few weeks.”
And then another of her, chained to a cross by her wrists, one of the men seconds away from ripping her shift down the middle.
She takes the phone back after that one.
There is a fluttering in my chest that makes me feel lightheaded. I hadn’t realized that I’d needed to hear this. ThatI’d needed the context that surrounded Derek and his kneeling ex.
“Thank you.” I manage to choke out the words, throat thick and heavy.
Dylan offers me a tiny smile. “So, yeah. I’m sorry for everything. For my behavior and any confusion I may have caused. And I’m serious about making it up to you. If you need help with something, anything, I’m your girl.”
I try to get a smile on my face, but it wobbles as badly as her first one. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”
We both stand there staring at each other until it starts to feel awkward.
Then Dylan jolts in place and her eyes go wide. “Oh crap, you need to go in, now. You’re almost out of time!”
She grabs me by the shoulders and steers me toward the door. I don’t even get a second to prepare myself before she opens it and gives me a little push through.
The echoing quiet of the foyer is replaced with the muted quiet of the very soundproof club space. No music. No people. No flashing or soft lighting.
Just me and Madam Devangeline.
Chapter 67
Emery
It only takes me a few wobbly steps to find Madam Devangeline.
If our meeting had a set time, I would have believed that her seating arrangements were intentional. But since she had no idea if or when I would turn up, I’m just going to have to go with this being my dumb luck. Because of course she issitting exactly where Derek had, on the overstuffed, ostentatious leather couches.
Dommy couches.
