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The door to Joshua’s room opened with a bang. Wearing nothing but his pants and a pissed-off glare, he stepped into the hallway. Zeroing in on James’ hand clasped at my elbow, Joshua’s nostrils flared.
Chapter Eight
“We need to talk, Mellie.” Although he’d kept his voice low, it was rife with fury. I could feel his anger bubbling below the surface, even though he kept it in check.
“Call me tomorrow, Sir. I think we both need some time to cool off.”
I hadn’t intended for my tone to sound so arctic, but I couldn’t take it back. Joshua closed his eyes briefly and inhaled a deep, irate breath.
“Fine. Expect a call from me in the morning, but for now, come inside and get dressed.”
I didn’t have a clue where James planned to take me, but I knew going back inside the room with Joshua would be catastrophic. We were both seething; it would be like tossing a match to gasoline.
“No, thank you. James is taking me someplace private so I can dress, Sir.” At least, I hoped he was. And why the hell was I still calling Joshua Sir? Dammit.
He turned toward James. “Exactly where do you plan on taking her? Surely not your own private room, I hope.” His words were slathered in jealous suspicion.
What the fuck had crawled up his ass? He’d gone from a compassionate, understanding knight on a white horse to a full-fledged son of a bitch in the blink of an eye.
“No. I’m taking her to Dylan and Nick’s room. They’re sitting at the bar with Savannah. Mellie will have privacy there.” James’ tone was matter-of-fact. I admired the man for not letting Joshua bait him with ridiculous innuendos.
“I appreciate your concern.” Joshua looked as if he’d rather cut off his left nut than choke out an ounce of gratitude to James.
Both men glanced my way. Awkwardness scraped like nails on a chalkboard. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” I snapped.
I had no intention of answering my phone if and when he called. There was nothing Joshua could do or say to take back the hurt he’d inflicted.
For a split second, the same haunting sadness I’d seen in the photo after his wife and daughter died settled in his eyes. A sudden pang of guilt sliced through me. But before I could open my mouth to say anything, Joshua turned, walked inside his room, and closed the door.
James didn’t ask a word, simply led me down the hall to Dylan and Nick’s room while a torrent of questions whirled in my brain.
Was Joshua still struggling with the loss of his family?
Of course, he was. You of all people should know the unrelenting hurt never goes away. The best you can do is survive the emptiness one day at a time.
“Do you need to file a formal report?” James asked as he turned the key and opened the door.
“What?”
“A formal report about Stephen? Do I need to get Mika down here?”
“No, of course not. Master Stephen didn’t do… You honestly think he’d…” I couldn’t believe James would insinuate such a thing. “He’s the last person in this club who would ever do something non-consensual. We had an argument. It wasn’t even lifestyle related.”
“Don’t get all riled up and in my face. I’m just doing my job, girl.”
“Our friendship is new, but Stephen…err, Master Stephen is an outstanding Dominant.”
Just not at the moment.
“I know. But even so, you’re upset. I need to know if he crossed a line. Look, I’ll let your sister and her Masters know where you are.”
“No,” I barked. “I’ll join them at the bar in a few minutes. Just don’t say anything to anyone, all right?”
“All right. All right. Calm your horses. Are you always this high strung?” James frowned.
I shot him a pained expression. “Look. Thank you for your help, okay?” It was a half-assed show of gratitude, but I was all talked out. With a sad sigh, I closed the door in his face.
Fuming, I threw on my clothes…well, everything except the stupid corset. No matter how hard I tried to attach the metal busks, the damn things kept coming undone. Too frustrated to deal with it, I tossed the garment aside and began to pace.
