The Doms of Genesis, Book Three
By Jenna Jacob
Coming Soon!
I stood beneath the faded green awning, staring at the gleaming mahogany casket. The sparkling brass handles mocked the warmth that had been ripped from my soul. A cold rain splattered upon the canopy as somber faced friends gathered beneath it to show their respect. Well-rehearsed tears spilled down the cheeks of his ex-wife, while his hateful daughter soothed the ice queen’s theatrics. Neither woman was present to mourn the loss of the man I loved, but to masquerade as grieving victims until the fat inheritance landed in their laps.
The monotone voice of the Minister resonated in my ears. None of his words of comfort penetrated the numb void that had consumed me for days. I was all but dead inside, just as dead as my beloved Master who would soon be lowered into the black earth hollowed out below him. And God help me, I wanted to go with him. Not because I wanted to die, but because I couldn’t imagine life without him.
The honorable George Bartholomew Marston, District Judge of Penniman County for the past four decades was being laid to rest. I felt as if I were almost outside myself. Friends and family stood in a line before passing the casket one last time, placing blood red roses atop the gleaming wooden box. It was if I’d been transported into a macabre movie, one I could barely watch, but helplessly had to endure.
George’s best friend and fellow judge, Reed Landes stepped up to the coffin; his eyes were rimmed red and the distinguished man’s chin quivered. I swallowed back a sob. Pain wrapped its icy hands around my heart and squeezed. It was almost time to say good-bye, but that was beyond my comprehension.
A firm, steady hand enveloped my shoulder. Glancing up, I found myself gazing into the compassionate amber eyes of Mika LaBrache; friend, Dominant, and owner of the BDSM club, Genesis. I’d spent countless hours basking in my Master’s adoration at Mika’s club. His submissive, Julianna, dabbed at the tears on her cheek, then smoothed a hand over her very pregnant belly. It was impossible to ignore how life mirrored death. There was a new life growing inside her. A life that she and Mika would love, protect and cherish—while the soul that had loved, protected and cherished me was gone. It was so unfair.
“It’s time to lay your rose on the casket, honey.” Julianna gently wrapped her fingers around my arm as I glanced down at the blood red rose gripped in my fist.Opening my hand, tiny red dots blossomed in the center of my palm. The thorns were smeared in crimson.
It seemed like hours ago since Trevor gave me the flower. I had no recollection of it piercing my flesh.
“I can’t do it,” I whispered, choking back the tears I’d held inside for days. Even knowing a part of me would be interned with George forever, it didn’t ease my devastation. Sucking in a ragged breath I willed myself to remain strong. I refused to allow George’s ex or daughter a glimpse of my pain, or reveal how much I’d loved the man. They’d only use it as a weapon against me.
It had been humiliating enough to hear George’s ex-wife’s demand I be escorted off the premises when I’d stepped out of Mika’s car at the church earlier. Luckily Drake, an imposing leather Dom from Genesis, leaned down and whispered something into the haughty bitch’s ear. She’d sputtered and paled before jerking her nose into the air, and stormed into the church. If it hadn’t been for Drake’s intervention, I wouldn’t have found the courage to attend George’s memorial service. I’d shielded my grief from the hateful shrew then, and I wasn’t about to let her see a chink in my armor now, at the cemetery.
Mika gave a nod of understanding then lifted the rose from my palm before he set it atop the copious pile of flowers atop the casket. When he returned, Julianna wrapped her arm around my waist, attempting to lead me from the gravesite. My body felt frozen. I couldn’t move, nor did I want to, because when I stepped from beneath the green awning I’d have to face a future without him. And even more debilitating was the thought of leaving George alone entombed in the cold black earth.
“A little help here?” Mika nodded to Tony Delvaggio the familiar Dom, Sadist, Dungeon Monitor, and resident shrink of Genesis.
He was a hulk of a man who always called me “brat” to my face—and meant it. The same one who set butterflies dipping and swooping in my stomach when I’d spy him staring at me in the club. He was erotic beyond words and turned submissive heads, collared or not, all over Genesis. Tony sent my pulse racing even now but I pushed away my reoccurring fantasies of the Sadist. Not only was he too intense for someone like me but I’d been in love with George and belonged to him.
Julianna stepped aside as Tony slid a thick arm around my shoulder. He was warm and solid. I tried to ignore the way my heart began to race.