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"Therapy might work for Boadicea, Con, and I applaud her courage for sticking with it. After seeing what was done to her, what her parents reduced her to that night...if she hadn't taken that step herself, Braun would have made her take it. There was too much pain in her head to let it fester."
Connie sucked on her lower lip thoughtfully. "I can't discuss Bodie with you, Jasper, but it intrigues me how you can say that so easily about someone else, someone I know you care a great deal about. There was too much pain in her head to let it fester. Do you think that doesn't apply to you, too, J? I can see the fucking pain throbbing in your head, I've watched your shoulders droop under the weight of it. If it were Archie in your position, I assume you'd push her into getting help."
Well, duh. His kitten would have her ass plunked down in Connie's office faster than she could make one of those delightful little squeaks he was so fond of. If necessary, he'd cuff her wrists and ankles to the arms and legs of the chair for those fifty minutes. Luckily, he didn't have to worry about Anarchy spilling her secrets; he was beginning to believe she had none. "Not the issue here, Connie."
"Of course, it is. Just because you're Master Jasper doesn't mean you're not Bodie at the core. You hurt Anarchy because your history decrees you need to cause pain to get pleasure. You hurt yourself because you gave her up to Atticus and ran away, which in turn hurt Anarchy again. Are you seeing the bigger picture here, Jasper?" Connie gestured with her hands, shaping a circle in the air. "Creating a constant loop of pain between the two of you, over and over again. It's not good for either of you, and if you're not careful, Anarchy willget tired of being your emotional punching bag."
As though his sub might slip from his grasp, Jasper tightened his arms around her and narrowed his eyes at the Mistress. "The damage is too deep, Connie. My..." He caught himself before he gave away the source of his problem. "What I am was planned before I was born, and I'm almost forty. I doubt there's much anyone can do to reverse a lifetime of sadism."
Connie tsked at him. "Such negativity. If I didn't know you were a big, strong, macho Dominant who eats shy little submissives for breakfast, I'd say you were scared." Her eyes glinted with a challenge he really didn't want to accept, but damn her, she was adept at pushing all the right buttons. "What harm could it do to sit down one afternoon and talk to me, J? Let me help."
Movement distracted him; Atticus rounded the corner with Anarchy's belongings balanced on his arm. Jasper didn't know what his friend did for a living, except that the guy had access to people, information, weapons, and had connections that spanned across the globe. He was the only one who had full knowledge of Jasper's journey into and through life. The only one who could empathize with the hell Jasper lived with.
"I'll think about it. I've got something a lot more important to focus on tonight."
To his relief, Connie appeared content to let the subject drop for the moment. She nodded and straightened as Atticus returned to the pit, setting the clothes beside Jasper. "If you turn her around, I'll help you dress her," Atticus said gruffly. "She's just gonna flop all over otherwise."
Jasper wasn't keen on the idea. After this little chat with the Domme, he didn't want anyone else's hands on her again for a while, at least. He supposed it was a bit of paranoia, mixed with his own insecurities about being the right man for her.
But his friend was right—Anarchy was limp with sleep, and manhandling her clumsily into her clothes wasn't what was best for her. After tonight's escapades, he had a need to treat her like glass. His personal insecurities had no place here, not now.
It all came down to Anarchy's comfort.
For the first time in as long as he could remember, Jasper accepted an offer of help.
*
Two days later, Anarchy finished off a second project in as many days and fired it off to the relevant person via email. Since her reunion with Jasper, her creative energies were dancing a jig and pushing her to catch up on the massive backlog she'd incurred during his time away. Apparently, damn good sex was the master key to her lock, and Jasper knew just how to turn that key.
When she'd woken the morning after their night at Avalon, she'd been bundled into her clothes and a blanket against the pre-dawn chill, and Jasper had been driving slowly back to Braun's house. He'd apologized for having to take her back so soon, but something had popped up out of the blue, giving him no choice but to make sure she was safe with their friends.
He was another cryptic one; he and Atticus would make a good couple.
Her fingers flew over the keyboard, singling out her next item on her to-do list in order of importance, then decided she deserved a little break. Raiding the kitchen should be easy enough—Braun had taken Bodie to the doctor and told Anarchy not to expect them back before five.
She had her fingers crossed everything was okay. Bodie didn't like exposing her vulnerabilities, so rarely confessed to being in pain or suffering with nightmares. She just kept marching right ahead, regardless. Since Boadicea fell in love with Braun, however, she was losing her ability to successfully con people she was okay—her lover read her like a book.
Setting her laptop aside, Anarchy wriggled off the guest bed and made her way downstairs. She had a hankering for ice cream, but she couldn't remember seeing any on previous scouting missions. Chips and dip might have to suffice. She rounded the bottom of the stairs and strolled into the kitchen, beelining straight for the snack cupboard.
Somewhere along the line, the bright day outside had dimmed into the dying light of early evening. She always lost track of time when she was focused on a task. Bad habit, but it couldn't be helped. She loved falling into an idea and bringing it to life on the screen. Building art and finetuning it to her specifications, shaping it into something she was proud to put her name to.
And when she saw it out in the big wide world, advertising whatever product she'd designed it for, Anarchy always got a divine tickle of delight behind her breastbone. A sense of pride and accomplishment to balance out her critical eye.
Humming, she glanced out of the kitchen window, noting with interest that there were already cars in the parking lot. Wow, they were early. There were two trucks parked next to each other. The one nearest to the house was Liam's, but she wasn't sure who the other one belonged to. Was it Atticus's truck?
Eyes narrowed, she watched for movement, but there was none. Liam was probably inside Avalon, taking care of business as he usually did. Maybe he was doing something that required one of the other Masters’ help?
Suspicious, she studied the area one last time, then turned her attention back to the cupboard. Movement in the doorway attracted her focus away from candy and chips, and onto the shadowy figure loitering where it shouldn't be. Her brain had a single moment to sum up that the figure was neither Braun nor Bodie before her mouth reacted with a scream loud enough to wake the dead.
She scrambled back, her socks slipping on the tiled floor in her haste as she sucked in a second breath to scream again. Her fingers closed around the first thing she found on the counter, and she swung the saucepan wildly in the direction of the figure as it leaped toward her with a, "Shush, Anarchy, it's me!"
Too late, she let rip with another eardrum-bursting screech before a warm hand silenced her. The saucepan in her hand vibrated with a thud as she connected with flesh, then it was wrenched from her grasp and set back on the counter. Her knees became decidedly weak as she stared up into ice-blue eyes alive with exasperation and humor.
"Can you cook with that thing as well as you hit someone with it?" Jasper asked her, releasing her to rub the ball of his shoulder.
Anarchy willed her racing heart to calm down. The asshole had damn near given her an aneurism, sneaking up on her that way. She pressed her fist to her breast and breathed slow, deep. "There's sadism, Jasper, and then there's being a jackass. All I'll say is you're lucky I didn't have more than a goddamn saucepan handy."
In the dim light, his face was cast in shadow. Before long, darkness would take over completely, and Anarchy made a mental note to make the house welcoming for her hosts' return even as her lover slowly raised an eyebrow at her. "Braun only has one firearm in the house and I know for a fact, he keeps it under lock and key so there's no accidents. Besides, if you answered your phone when a man tries calling you, or just firing back a message after he sends you, oh, about two-dozen since he last saw you, I wouldn't have to come sneaking around, would I?"
