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Archie diverted her eyes, dropping them away from the gray ones that saw too much. She'd already decided, when she'd been curled up on Atticus's lap and bawling her heart out, that she couldn't do this. Submitting to anyone but Jasper just wasn't going to happen, and it was unfair to everyone to keep up the façade. Atticus shouldn't have to waste his time with her, not when she didn't have the bottle to surrender to him the way he needed.
Jasper, well, he just kept walking away, didn't he.
And she...she needed time to reflect on the past nine months of her life. Months dedicated to Jasper, to submission. Stepping away from it, from here, was the only way she could go forward. Surely it was better to submit to no one than build a relationship that wasn't what either party was looking for at the core.
God, she was going to miss them, all of them. She'd gotten used to loitering on the fringes of their close group, never really being an integral part of them but being included just enough to know she loved them. She loved their dynamic, the way Loki pranked everyone, and Liam looked out for damn near everybody under the club roof. She'd miss watching Braun dote on his sub and Bodie adore her master even as she teased him.
But the reality was, Archie didn't belong here. They weren't her people to love or worry about. Nine months might give her the impression they were family, but they...they, as a group, saw her as nothing more than a pitiful submissive fawning over a Dominant who wanted no part of her, she was sure.
“Thank you, Mistress Connie, I'll look forward to it.”
Braun and Loki headed back toward the club as Atticus gently grasped her elbow and escorted her down the steps onto the gravel. The three men exchanged a look without words before furious blue eyes met hers, softened just a fraction. “I sincerely hope tonight's events haven't altered your opinion of us, little one,” Braun murmured. “The jackass will come to his senses, trust me.”
She nodded as her throat closed on a surge of tears, more than grateful to Atticus in that moment as he steered her toward her car, giving her precious seconds to say her silent goodbyes and wish things were different before she handed her keys over to him.
Another chapter in the book of Anarchy was coming to an end.
***
Chapter Four
Two Weeks Later
How was it possible to be this fucking miserable?
Another Friday night was upon her, and rather than getting ready for a night at Avalon with all the beautiful anticipation of seeing Jasper, Anarchy sprawled on the couch in her apartment with the remote in one hand and a spoon in the other. The carton of ice cream on the floor was long empty, every trace of comforting mint choc chip gone. She didn't have the energy to get up to raid her snack cupboard.
For a week, she'd confined herself to the apartment, ignoring calls and messages from her friends on both sides of the BDSM line. Her vanilla friends were fooled easily enough—a group message on Facebook was enough to spread word around that she had the flu pretty damn bad, and had resulted in a barrage of Get Well Soongifs and sympathetic virtual hugs.
Braun, Connie, and the other Avalon Masters however...
Atticus made it a point to visit every damn night, despite the fact she wouldn't talk to him and she wouldn't open the door. Having been exposed to his brand of charm, Archie knew he'd have her back at the club and in the arms of the Masters before she realized it.
Connie, Braun, Liam, and Loki sent texts ranging from explicit orders to get her ass to Avalon, to more subtle enquiries as to how she was doing, did she need anything? Their attempts gave her a warm feeling inside, but there was an enormous chasm inside her, shaped like a certain sadistic asshole, which refused to be filled by anything but him.
With a lackluster sigh, her finger kept pressing the channel button on the remote, flipping through programs without interest. Romance and comedy were a no-no. She'd tried that already as a distraction and spent an entire day sobbing through everything she watched. Reality TV and game shows just bored her on a normal day; even her beloved Law & Ordercouldn't compete with the funk she was drowning in.
There was a mountain of work piling up on her laptop that she couldn't give a damn about. She worked from home most of the time, creating advertising campaigns for various companies. While she wandered into the office every now and then to touch base, her time was her own, and right now, she had no creative juices left.
She was just a dried-out husk of uselessness.
Oh well, a Law & Ordernight would have to suffice.
A soft tap on the door had her eyes sliding toward it, then to the clock. Ten p.m. Way past Atticus's usual visitation time, and she had no doubt the rest of the circle of Masters were at Avalon, taking care of business.
Shrugging her shoulders beneath the thin oversized T-shirt she'd worn all week, Archie ignored the second polite knock. She wasn't in the mood for company and she'd made that clear to everyone.
Her heart leaped into her throat at the sound of a key sliding into the lock, the tumblers snicking open. Clutching her spoon like a weapon, she stayed frozen in her sprawled-out position on the couch and blinked at the person casually letting themselves inside her apartment without permission.
Connie slammed the door shut and tossed the key into the small bowl on a table beside the door. “Remind me to return that to the building manager,” she said easily, peeling off her floor-length coat as she turned to face Archie. Her face was a mixture of sympathy and exasperation as she hung the coat on a hook without taking her eyes off her prey. “Well, I can see I should have staged an intervention sooner. No matter, what's done can be repaired, sweetheart.”
The tone of a caring voice, the physical presence of a real person, strangled Archie's voice. She hadn't understood how much she was missing simple human connection until now. She felt ridiculous as her mouth worked like a guppy's, no words coming out.
Connie wore black slacks and a pretty coral-colored sweater, her tawny hair spilling down around her shoulders. Nothing like how she dressed at Avalon. She tugged her phone from her pocket and fired off what Archie presumed was a quick text, then looked around the apartment as though she'd never seen one before. “We've been worried about you, Archie. I never thought you'd be such a bad girl.”
It was a sucker punch to the solar plexus.
“Good girls don't allow their friends to worry; they don't ignore texts and calls or knocks on the door. Believe me, girl, you're lucky to have a front door left. Atticus was intending to smash it down tonight to make sure you were okay; luckily, saner heads prevailed. He has a very inventive punishment in mind for you though, so that should be entertaining.”
