Piper
The music is loud, the drinks are cheap, and the girls are beautiful.
Everything about tonight is perfect, except for the fact that I can’t relax enough to enjoy it. I can’t relax enough to stop worrying and just feel. I can’t. Not tonight. Not ever.
For me, relaxing means letting my guard down, and Piper Queen never lets her guard down.
Never.
That’s the problem with being me, really. I can have Dom after Dom try to calm me down and help me forget, but I never forget. No matter how hard they spank me, how tightly they bind me, how hard they make me come, I can never forget what I’m running from.
I’ve just gotten really good at faking it.
“Hey sweetie,” a familiar voice brings me back to reality. Good. I need something – someone – to ground me tonight. Right now, I feel like a leaf barely hanging onto a branch. All it will take is one strong gust of wind, and I’ll be gone. Done.
“June,” I smile at the bartendress in her too-tight corset and ridiculously amazing cleavage. She doesn’t play at Anchored, but June always looks the role. “Looking good,” I tell her, and she grins, flashing me a bright smile.
“Piper, Piper,” she shakes her head playfully and motions to her breasts. “You know they’re always available for you. All you have to do is ask.”
Now it’s my turn to chuckle. “I’ll keep that in mind,” I tell her, and June winks at me playfully.
“Not playing tonight?” She asks, glancing at the bracelet on my wrist. It designates me as a patron who won’t be participating in any BDSM activities with anyone at the club tonight. This means that I’m free to drink at Anchored, within reason. I just can’t have sex or any other type of fun. Not tonight.
Then again, having fun was never in the stars for me. Not really. Not if I’m honest with myself. I seemed to think running away would solve everything, and for a little while, I dared to let my hair down. I dared to try. I dared to dream.
Then with one letter, everything changed, and I realized that escape was never in the cards for me. I’ve been dealt a crappy hand, and there’s not much I can do to change it. All I can do is keep fighting, but the problem with combat is that eventually, even the strongest warriors get tired.
“Not tonight,” I tell June, sipping my beverage. It’s Crown and Sprite. There’s nothing like a smooth criminal to unwind after a long day, and this is my go-to drink. Whether I’m happy or sad, I like to have the same thing.
“Any reason why?” June asks, leaning on the bar. She’s giving me an up close and personal view of her breasts, but I don’t really mind. June is freaking beautiful, but she doesn’t seem to know it. In the time we’ve been friends, she’s never had a serious relationship, and I don’t really know why, except that June doesn’t seem to know her own worth.
Or maybe I’m the one who doesn’t know what I’m worth.
Maybe I’m just projecting.
The truth is that when I’m honest with myself, I don’t really feel special or valued. I don’t really feel like there’s much to me. I’m just an ordinary girl from and ordinary town who got into an ordinary relationship and it all went to hell. We all have a sob story, though, right?
We all have our demons.
Mine just happens to wear blue jeans and a fake smile.
“Just a long day,” I tell June, which is the truth. I don’t tell her what was long about it. We’re buddies, June and I, but this is something I haven’t even told her.
When I first met her, she was looking for a tech girl who could help her manage the behind-the-scenes stuff for the club. She needed someone who could do all of the major stuff like design the website and handle the social media side of the business, but June also needed someone who created the membership database and mailing list and keep it secure.
I could do that.
I can do a lot more than that, and we’ve been working closely together since she opened the club. It’s been a couple of years since Anchored first opened its doors, and during that time, neither June nor I have gotten into serious relationships.
Oh, we’ve both had our fun and our flings, but a relationship is different. If you want to have a relationship, you have to be willing to get your hands a little dirty. You have to be willing to wear your heart on your sleeve, at least a little bit.
You have to be willing to be brave.
I’m just not sure if I’m any of those things.
I was, once upon a time, but that bravery very nearly got me killed.
June looks at me with narrowed eyes, like she knows I’m completely full of shit, but she lets it slide. Another patron comes and sits at the bar, and she pours the woman a drink before moving on to help other members. I sit, sipping my drink, and I spin around on the barstool so I can watch some of the scenes unfolding.
The thing I like about Anchored is that it’s not all extreme and crazy. I’m not opposed to that. Not at all. We all have our kinks, after all, but Anchored tends to be more about voyeurism and exhibitionism than hardcore domination, and I like that.
I like the simplicity.
I like the trust.
I like the fact that Anchored is a place where you can hang out with your friends and if some of you happen to have sex, well, that’s just fine.
“Drinking alone tonight?” I turn when I hear Odessa’s voice.
“Hey beautiful,” I hug my friend and she sits beside me on the next barstool over. June comes over, but Odessa shakes her head at the silent offer of an alcoholic beverage. She’s playing tonight, so drinking isn’t an option. She needs to keep a clear head if she’s going to be playing with someone. It wouldn’t do anyone any favors to have her too tipsy or relaxed to be able to communicate with her Dom.
“Rough night?” She jerks her head toward my drink.
“No,” I lie. “Just taking the night off.”
“Glad you came anyway,” she says, and I know she doesn’t believe me for a second that I’m okay. I always play at the club. Always. It’s the one place where I can let my hair down and truly relax, at least for a little while. It’s the one place I can pretend to let my guard down, anyway.
“Where’s your boy?” I ask, and she shakes her head. She and her Dom have been on-again, off-again for awhile now. “Sorry,” I tell her. He’s a kind-hearted tax attorney, but Theodore has his own issues to work out.
“I’m fine,” she says, and I know Odessa is lying just as much as I am. “But I am going to find a Domme to play with tonight, if anyone will have me.”
“Mistress D is here,” I point out the obvious. Odessa works with Destiny, but they do sometimes play at the club. As far as I can tell, working together and playing together doesn’t seem to be a conflict of interest for people at Anchored. Most of us have gotten pretty good at keeping this half of ourselves separate from the rest of our lives.
We kind of have to.
It’s not like I can roll into work in my booty shorts and corsets and ask my boss to spank me.
No, being a member of Anchored means keeping things under wraps when they need to be. One of the reasons people feel comfortable playing here is that privacy is highly guarded. Most members don’t even realize or know June is the owner. She likes it that way. In fact, most people assume Master Thorn is the owner because he’s one of the biggest, meanest dudes here.
June lets them think whatever they want.
As long as people pay their monthly dues, which are through the damn roof, and they don’t cause trouble at her club, she’s fine with people assuming she’s just the bartender.
“She actually has a sub for the night,” Odessa says.
“Oh?”
I look to where she’s pointing and sure enough, Mistress D has a sweet boy all tied up on one of the stages. He looks nervous, as he should, but he shouldn’t be too scared. Mistress D is intimidating, but she’s not nearly as mean as people like to say she is.
“What about you?” Odessa asks quietly. “Why aren’t you playing tonight?”
“Oh, I’m just not really in the mood,” I say, but her eyes narrow.
“What happened?”
“Nothing,” I protest, but my voice comes out a whisper.
“You really want to go through this alone?” Odessa asks.
“What?”
“I’m right here for you, Piper. I’m right here. Literally.” She motions to the space between us. “All you have to do is reach out and ask. I get it that you might be scared or nervous or think this is nobody’s problem but your own, but it’s not. You have friends here. You know that, right?”
I tear up at her words.
I do know it. I know in my heart that Odessa, June, and even Mistress D would all be there for me if I asked them. The problem is that I don’t want to ask. The problem is that I’m scared to ask. I’ve been running for so long. I’ve been hiding for an eternity and right now, the last thing I want to do is drag anyone else into the nightmare that is my life.
Is that wrong of me?
Does that make me untrusting?
Maybe.
Maybe I need to get over myself and ask for help. Maybe I need to stop being so scared. The problem is that this fear? This fear is my cloak. I wrap it around myself and use it to ensure my own safety. I wrap this fear around me tightly.
If I wasn’t afraid, I would be dead by now.
I keep telling myself this.
To be honest, I’m surprised I’ve made it this long without him finding me. Tad is a lot of things, but forgetful? He’s not. I should have known it was only a matter of time before he started sending mail to post office box. I should have known it was only a matter of time before he started searching for me.
I guess I dared to hope it was over, but I never really believed that it was.
Odessa’s eyes narrow, and she pulls me close to whisper in my ear.
“It’s that man, isn’t it?” She asks, and I nod. I got really drunk one night and spilled my guts to Odessa. I told her much more than I should have about Tad, about our relationship, about his prison sentence.
I told her the real reason I changed my name.
I told her the real reason I keep to myself.
I nod, silently, relieved that she knows, at least a little bit. It’s a relief to know that someone understands what I’m going through and that they like me anyway. Odessa will always take my side. I know that. June will, too. They’re both always there for me.
They’re both right here with me, rooting for me, believing in me.
“He found you,” she whispers, but it’s not a question.
“He hasn’t found me.”
Not my house, anyway.
Not yet.
“Then what is it? Is this something you can bring to the police? Has he been threatening you?”
I shake my head.
I’ve been down that road before.
The reality is that the police are swamped. They’d love to help, and there are some incredible detectives, but they all have their own lives, their own jobs, their own responsibilities. They have their own pressure. Their bosses are ragging on them to close cases and taking on a domestic dispute? That’s not something most people really want to deal with.
“I don’t know,” I sigh. “I guess he’s out of jail.”
“You knew that,” Odessa’s brown eyes narrow. “Don’t try to play dumb with me, Piper. I know you’ve been tracking his every move. It’s what I would do if I had your skills. A girl’s gotta look out for herself and you’ve been watching your back for a long time.”
I’m good at tech, what can I say?
She’s right. I have been tracking, watching, and waiting. When a contact notified me that Tad was up for parole, I immediately started watching my back again, even more than I did before. Living carefully means I don’t bring people to my house. I don’t talk about where I live. All of my mail goes to a post office box.
I can never relax, and I can never unwind, and I can never, ever let my guard down.
I’m careful, and I’ve covered my tracks as much as possible, but he’s clever.
He’s not likely to get caught again.
But going after the woman who put him in prison?
That’s definitely the type of thing Tad would do.
I reach for my glass and I take another sip of my smooth criminal.
“I’m sure I’ll be okay,” I lie to Odessa. “I’m just stressing out over nothing.”
I don’t tell her about the letters.
I don’t tell her he found a way to contact me.
I swallow the whiskey, and it burns all the way down.