Page 102 of The Dom with a Safeword

“I’m sorry.” The girl sobbed. “She assured me she was fine. And, well, you know Q. She doesn’t back down easy.”

“Okay. It’s okay. Just tell me where she is.” Shaking with nerves and anger and…fucking desperation, she grabbed her purse and keys and headed to the car while Ivy rambled off an address. “You’re at the club right now?” At her affirmation she took control. “I’m swinging by to pick you up. I’ll need help getting Q out. You may be a sub but I’ve heard you can put a wayward Dom in his place.”

Tires screeched as she peeled out of the parking lot and let her inner bitch take over. If Q went and died because she was too hung up on a guy to use common sense, Sabrina was going to kill her.

After collecting Ivy, she followed the GPS out of town and into a sparsely occupied wooded area. The long driveway led to a house up on a hill. The outside lights were on but it still looked sinister. Or maybe it was all in her head.

She jumped out of the car and stared at the old farmhouse. “Come on. We have to make sure Q is okay.” Damn her for not listening to her uncle and getting a handgun permit. That’d be helpful right about now. She looked back at Ivy, who seemed to have swallowed her guilt and replaced it with determination. Good. She needed the back-up. “Call the police if this guy threatens us or Q at all, okay?”

She nodded.

They walked to the door and stopped. “Should we knock?” Sabrina asked.

Ivy shrugged.

The sound of Q’s voice answered her question. “Red… red…pleeease.” It was little more than a whimper, but she could hear it clearly through the door. There was a loud crack and Q sobbed.

Oh hell. She burst through the door and followed the heart-wrenching sounds through a kitchen and straight into a nightmare of kinky proportions. She barely registered the man standing to the side, whip in hand. The only thing on her mind was Q, hanging limply from her wrists…and bleeding.

“Hey!” The man yelled. “Who the fuck are you?”

Ignoring him, she choked back a sob and rushed to Q’s side. “Q! Are you okay?”

She stared at the wall, moaning. Needles had been slid under her skin, making a line down her un-tattooed side. Blood oozed to the surface on the back of one thigh where it looked like a cane had hit too hard and split the skin. Bruises marred her back and breasts.

Anger welled up in Sabrina’s chest. She grabbed Q’s face. “Wake up, honey. Tell me you’re okay.” More moaning that tore at Sabrina’s heart. “We’re gonna get you out of here. Just hang on.”

The man placed himself in her line of sight. “I said, who the fuck are you?”

Sabrina whirled on him. “Her fucking girlfriend. I’d suggest you stay the hell out of my way before I decide to call the state deputy. Also known as my cousin.” It was a lie but he didn’t need to know that. Sometimes bullshitting was the best way out of a situation.

“You just trespassed on private property. And as far as I’m concerned, you’re stealing something of mine.” He took a step forward, tapping the whip handle on his leg.

Ivy moved to Sabrina’s side, looking between them nervously. “Don’t antagonize him, Sabrina,” she whispered. “He looks like he might have a few screws loose.”

She was beyond caring. Anger outweighed any sense. “Start taking out the needles,” she told Ivy before addressing the fuck that hurt her Q. “You have a girl strung up in your torture chamber, barely conscious. And she’s bleeding. Do you really want to invite law enforcement in here?”

He looked at Q, still dangling from the ceiling then shrugged. “Fine. Take the bitch. I’m finished with her anyway.”

Fucking asshole. She released a breath. Good that she wouldn’t have any trouble, but how she wished she could pound the living daylights out of him. She turned to Q, who barely registered that Ivy was carefully pulling needles out of her skin.

She searched the room for her clothes. At least she had underwear on. A t-shirt would be fine for the car ride home. She grabbed the black shirt off the floor. Ivy placed each needle on the coffee table. Sabrina did a double-take. Not a coffee table – a restraint system.

She shuddered. When the needles were out, she handed Ivy the t-shirt and unbuckled the cuffs. She barely caught Q when her knees buckled.

“Stand up, Q,” she gritted out, crushed under the weight of her taller friend. “You have to stand so we can help you.” Sabrina gave her a shake and Ivy patted her face.

Q seemed to come to a bit. She nodded and straightened, on wobbly legs but at least standing. Sabrina helped support her with an arm under hers as Ivy tugged on her shirt.

“Grab her jeans,” she told Ivy, guessing Q had stashed her wallet and keys in her pockets. Headed for the door, she spared a glance at the bastard who dared call himself a Dom. He’d just sat down on the couch with a beer and was about to turn on the TV – as if it were an ordinary Saturday night and nothing had happened.

“Asshole,” she muttered. “Let’s get you home, Q.”

Ivy and Sabrina shuffled Q out to the car barefoot, not wanting to stop long enough to buckle her knee-high boots. Sabrina motioned for Ivy to drive but she was already one step ahead and opened the back door for them. The shout of pain when Q sat down in the car was like a knife to Sabrina’s heart.

“Fuck. What were you thinking, Q?” Sabrina grumbled to herself. She pulled Q sideways so her upper body lay in her lap. Her shoulders trembled and at first she thought Q was crying, but when she rolled her face up, her teeth chattered. “Shit. She’s gonna go into shock. Ivy, there’s a blanket in the trunk, can you get it?”

A moment later, Ivy draped the blanket she used for beach trips on Q’s body, then she slid in the driver’s side and blasted the heat. “To the hospital?” Ivy asked.