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"Are you able to draw a deep breath? Get air in and out of your throat okay?"
"Yeah," she rasped. "Now that the rope's off, I can breathe just fine. I promise."
"Okay then. Okay." He ran a hand down her back, gripped her hand. "Billie?"
The drag queen appeared. Harris was hovering as close, his eyes hard with worry and mouth set, an echo of the look Des had, but only an echo. She wasn't sure anyone could look the way Des did right now. His voice was strangely even as he spoke to Billie. "Stay with her." He glanced down at Julie. "It's okay. Just relax here a minute. I'll be right back."
He rose and moved across the stage. Pablo was standing by the ruined frame, staring at it. Julie wondered if he was in shock himself, because his gaze was locked on it as if he were in a trance.
He saw Des approaching, though, because he lifted his head and cleared his throat. "Man, this is going to take a while to put back together," he said awkwardly.
"Oh, you poor dumbass," Billie murmured.
Julie wasn't sure what he meant, but the others had registered Billie's dismay, if the frozen looks and indrawn breaths meant anything. Though no one moved, it was as if everyone else's energy drew back and away from the young rigger, clearing out of Des's path.
Des nodded in a neutral manner and picked up one of the broken metal rods. In a movement too fast for Julie to follow, he grabbed Pablo by the shirt front. Despite the man having more mass and height, Des dragged him down the three stairs off the stage and slammed him against the wall. He had the bar against his throat. Pablo's eyes bugged out and he struggled, but Julie wasn't the only one discovering how strong Des was.
"Feel that?" Des hissed at him. "Notice how you can't breathe? I'm putting no more pressure on your windpipe than it takes to dent a soda can. You suspended her from a frame that wasn't properly balanced or anchored. I'll bet you didn't even test it with your own weight first. Your ties were sloppy. You didn't isolate the sections to prevent tension in other areas. They slipped, forming a noose around her neck. You could have snapped it. Her larynx could have fractured. You were cutting off her femoral artery."
Pablo choked and Des apparently eased his hold, but not by much, because when Pablo's lips parted only a wheeze came out.
"Shut up," Des said anyway. "You're not talking now. I am. You were so busy thinking how to make it pretty, you didn't make it safe, which is the only fucking bloody thing that matters, ever. This is why this performance shit causes problems. It's more about impressing a fucking audience than taking care of your bottom."
Menace rolled off Des in waves. Billie's fingers pressed into Julie's shoulders. A bleary look up at the drag queen's face showed it set in a serious mask, a rare but impressively intimidating look for him. The rest of the people watching were motionless, held by Des's fury.
With a sound of disgust, Des took a step back and tossed the metal bar aside, though his body language was looming enough to keep Pablo where he was.
"You're going to make mistakes," Des said, staring at the rigger who'd paled under his brown skin. "Everyone does. That's why you always make sure you're ready for it. You reacted to the damn scaffold and dove for that first, when your first reaction should have been to protect her with whatever superhero adrenaline shit is necessary. Where were your fucking snips?"
Pablo's mouth worked, but nothing came out. Des nailed him with a look that could drill holes. "Let me guess. They're in your pack, which was somewhere backstage. If you tell me they're in your car, I'll fucking kill you, so keep it to yourself."
Des took a turn around the pit, as if calming himself, then he pivoted toward Pablo, freezing him in his sights again. "If you have a sub tied up, your cutting tool is on your body or no more than arm's length away. Because when she's in your hands, she's in your hands. She's got nothing but you and luck, and luck has the attention span of a fucking squirrel."
Pablo had finally recovered enough that he started to look belligerent. "Oh no, boy," Billie muttered. "You know what's good for you, you just stand there pissing yourself and listening."
Looking at Des's face, Julie didn't disagree. She struggled to a more upright position, lifting her hand to draw his attention. It wasn't necessary. As soon as she moved, his gaze snapped to her. Even now she was his focus. She swallowed, not quite prepared for an additional sweeping off her feet, even if it was a far better one than the kind she'd just experienced.
"Des, I'm okay."
Talking wasn't such a good idea, since she croaked like a frog. A second later she also realized it wasn't a great idea to shed light on her role in this. Billie's dubious look seemed to concur, though the message came too late.
Des gave her a glare no less wilting than he'd given Pablo. "And what the hell were you thinking? You do not put yourself in the hands of an inexperienced rigger if there's no mentor standing by spotting him. Not for any reason."
"Hey." Pablo rallied. "I'm not that inexperienced."
Julie gasped as Des turned and punched him in the jaw, knocking him on his ass and making his eyes damn near roll back in his head. At another time, she would have been impressed by the force of the blow, but she was too fragile to do more than cringe.
"Saw that one coming," Billie said, stroking her back, a calming gesture. "Easy, honey-chile. Just let him work it out. I love to hear your voice, but right now it's best you just focus on breathing."
The punch had Harris and a couple other male members of the staff coming down the stairs to intervene, but Des backed off, both hands raised. As they helped Pablo up, though, he stabbed a finger toward him.
"You're too stupid to know when to shut your mouth and listen," Des snapped. "You've been doing this for six months. Your basics are shit. Learn those, or you're going to fucking kill someone."
Julie's inevitable reaction to a fright--once she had enough distance from it--was anger. She'd had enough of being handled. Though Des had pretty much just saved her life, she wouldn't have him treating her like a child. ""I'm not an idiot, Des," she rasped, managing to get to her feet, though Billie had to rise to keep her upright. "It was just a mistake. Risk Aware Consensual Kink, remember?"
"Can't keep you babies from touching a hot stove," Billie said under his breath. She pretended like she hadn't heard him.
Des left Pablo's vicinity, thankfully, to march up the stairs and square off a few feet from her. He took off his cap and shoved it in his belt. "A few days surfing the Internet learning buzz words doesn't make you an expert, either," he said. "That fucking mistake could have ended up with you in a coma or dead. And him carrying that around on his dumbass soul for the rest of his life. What do you think this would do for Madison's hopes of having a place that helps people understand what BDSM is and isn't? It'd all be gone, and if your family decided to bring a lawsuit against her, she could be wiped out."
