The bitter outrage I felt at the Neanderthal’s high-handed commands evaporates at the sound of sirens. I know, even though I can’t hear the conversation on the other end of the line, that something terrible happened. I can tell by the way Tobias’s jaw tightens, and his body straightens.

Chad.

Oh, God. If anything happened to my son...

Reaching for my phone, I text the sitter. No response.

He’s fine. I tell myself while breathing deep, willing my nerves to calm. He’s going to be fine. I focus on counting backward from ten, my chest constricting, but it doesn’t help. The room feels too warm, my head too light. I blink. The lights brighten then darken then brighten again. I don’t notice I’m on my feet and holding my breath until I feel warm, strong hands on me. I gasp for breath.

“Sit,” he orders, and this time it isn’t the harsh command of a few moments ago, but softer. “What the fuck’s goin’ on here? You okay?”

I shake my head and close my eyes, trying to breathe through my nose. “Anxiety attack,” I gasp out, panting now. “I... get them sometimes.” A band tightens on my chest. My head is light and woozy, the room spins. My lungs are too empty, and that’s not okay, I need to breathe air into them but whatever pushes against my chest won’t let me. Panic wells up and I gasp.

“Christ, lay down on the couch.” He leads me over to a couch pushed up against a wall, and he pushes me onto it, kneeling his large frame in front of me. “Hold my hand,” he orders. I need this. No questions. Just listen.

I do what he says. His hand is large and warm and rough, and it shocks me how quickly the band in my chest loosens.

“Breathe in through your nose,” he says. Eyes still closed, I obey. “There. Now breathe steadily. If you can handle it, sit up, but do not move. I have things to do.”

I nod. It’s embarrassing, losing my shit like this. I haven’t had an anxiety attack in over a year.

Fucking tequila.

I lift my phone, breathing in relief when a text message flashes on my screen

It’s Mandy, my son’s babysitter. I’m sorry, Mrs. McAdams. Everything’s fine here. Chad’s asleep, and I had headphones on, studying, and didn’t see your message.

Tears prick the back of my eyes.

This is why I don’t go out.

This is why I only hire babysitters when my friends practically drag me, kicking and screaming.

No one takes care of Chad the way I do. No one gets him. The big, bossy bear of a man stands in the doorway to his office, his head tilting toward me to keep an eye on me, but I sit up quickly when I see uniformed officers in the hall. My stomach clenches, but I breathe deep and focus on staying calm.

A tall, burly man dressed in plain clothes, but obviously a detective or some kind of police officer, approaches Tobias. He has light brown hair and deep brown eyes. He speaks in a husky, controlled voice. “We need to question every dungeon monitor and member of your staff,” he says. “Seth gave the signal. You’ve locked the facility down?”

Tobias nods and my heart kicks up a beat.

Dungeon monitor? Lockdown?

Tobias’ gaze pivots around to lock eyes with mine, probably afraid I’m going to lose my shit again. I stare him back, daring him to accuse me of being a wimp. Swinging my legs over the side of the couch, I’m about to approach them when I remember what brought me here. There is a police officer standing in front of him. One sentence is all it would take for him to report me. What would happen then? If I get in trouble with the law… if Chad loses his funding… too much is at stake.

My eyes meet his, and I silently plead.

He doesn’t look away when he speaks to the police officer. “Zack, I have company here tonight. Sorry, should’ve told you.”

Zack just comes in and extends his hand. “Nice to meet you…?” His voice trails off, inviting me to give him my name.

“Diana McAdams,” I say, my mouth dry. “Nice to meet you, too.”

Tobias addresses Zack. “Brax is on at the door, Travis tending bar. I’ll have to look to see who’s on the floor.”

Zack pulls a notebook out of his back pocket and starts writing things down.

“You haven’t seen Axle?”

“No, but I—oh for Christ’s sake, Zack. Axle doesn’t like to kill spiders, never mind hurt a—” his gaze swings around to me again, and he stops. “It couldn’t be him.”

Zack frowns. “It’s never who you think it is.”

Tobias swears, but several police officers rush past them and he quiets, then turns to me. “I need to see to a few things. Stay here, and for God’s sake, don’t—” He looks around. “Christ, I can’t leave her here.” He turns back to Zack. “Not until we know for sure it’s safe.”

What the hell?

“I wouldn’t,” Zack says. “Good call.”

Tobias purses his lips and frowns. “Diana, come with me.” He extends his hand to me. I stare, not sure how to respond. “Just… try not to look around too much. Don’t judge, just focus on me.”

Um. What?

“Tobias, I need to go home.”

Something inside me says he isn’t gonna let me go, but I have to try. “My son needs me. If he wakes up and I’m not there, he’ll freak.”

Zack shakes his head. “No one goes anywhere until we’ve lifted the lockdown for everyone. I’m sorry, but you have to stay.” I open my mouth to protest, but he shakes his head again. “You’ll have to follow instructions, ma’am.”

Ma’am? I am only thirty-one years old, thankyouverymuch.

I blink at him as if he spoke a foreign language. “What?”

“You can’t go,” he repeats. “Not until we’ve interrogated everyone here tonight and gotten word it’s safe to release them.”

I don’t even know where I am, I want to say. But I have to play it safe and not draw attention to why I’m here.

Tobias looks at me before he talks. “Need to talk to her alone. Give us five?”

Zack nods. “Make it quick.” He joins the officers in the hallway, and Tobias shuts the door.

“Who’s your son with?” he asks in a controlled but gentle voice, as if he’s afraid I’ll lose my shit again.

“A babysitter,” I say, shaking my head. He won’t understand. How can he?

“How old’s your son?” he asks, his arms crossed on his chest, staring at me with those dark, probing eyes that make me feel naked and exposed.

I swallow. “Eight.”

He frowns slightly. “Eight? And he won’t understand if he wakes up and you’re not there?”

God.

I close my eyes and inhale briefly, willing myself to ignore the anxiety that threatens to choke me. I open my eyes. “He… doesn’t handle surprises well. He needs structure and routine and predictability.”

His brows furrow. I exhale, and continue. “He’s on the spectrum,” I say, willing my voice to stay steady. “Though he’s—he’s high functioning.”

Tobias’s eyes soften, and he nods, slowly. Damn, I can’t take his sympathy. It’ll make me cry, and I don’t want that. The small gesture of compassion loosens the knot in my chest, and tears blur my vision. Fuck. I blink them back and take another deep breath, my voice dropping to a whisper. “But I have to get home. Listen, I’m so sorry about your car. I swear to God I’m good for the damage. This isn’t me. This isn’t what I do. I don’t know what came over me. I’ll give you every means to contact me you need.”

Tobias shakes his head, uncrosses his arms, and steps closer to me. “I’m sorry, Diana. Listen, I hear you, but I can’t let you go home right now.”

“Please,” I beg.

He shakes his head with finality. “I can’t. Our entire facility is on lockdown.”

Dread gnaws my stomach. “Where are we? What is this place?”

Tobias smiles grimly. “Welcome to Verge. New York City’s most reputable BDSM club.”

A nervous giggle bubbles up. “I—you—can’t be serious,” I say, shaking my head, welcoming the comic relief. “You’re joking. BDSM? Like Fifty Shades of Grey BDSM?” He shrugs a shoulder. “And that’s legal here?”

His deep chuckle sends shivers down my spine. “Of course it’s legal. That officer I’m friends with? He’s a member here and believe me, that guy’s as law-abiding as they come.”

My jaw drops. “Are you kidding me?”

He rolls his eyes. “For God’s sake, it isn’t what you think it is.”

But before we can talk further, a knock comes at the door.

“I didn’t want to have to bring you in there, yet, but you’ll have to come with me now.” He leans in, his large, strong body brushing up against mine, and fixes me with a stern look. “Stay by my side and do what I say.” His voice lowers, his brows furrowing. “Do that and you’ll be fine.”

I huff out a laugh. Suddenly, the whole thing seems preposterous. I’m with a… master or whatever? At a BDSM Club? For real? “Whatever you say… sir.” I snicker, but he only opens the door, his jaw tight.

“Watch it, Diana.”

I walk by his side, surprised that my body responds instinctively. His deep voice resonates through my limbs, his commanding nature sending a reluctant throb to my lady parts.

Shit.

I smirk to myself as I walk out of his office. One thing’s for sure. Beatrice will think this is epic.