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She opened her mouth to argue, but then she thought of her family. Their lack of comprehension about her theater life and what kind of person she was, coupled to their obvious yet clueless love for her, didn't rule out such a senseless decision. But that wasn't the point. None of those things had happened.
"Des," Billie said. His low tone was pointed enough that Des's gaze flickered at the quiet rebuke, then shifted to Julie's hands, trembling on Billie's forearm wrapped around her waist. The look that crossed his face made her wonder if he was going to snatch her out of Billie's arms to hold her himself or go pound on Pablo some more.
Instead, he pivoted to glare at all the cast and crew. "The next one of you who touches her with a rope answers to me. You clear it with me first, then her."
"Hell, man. I'm sorry. I didn't know you were her Dom." Pablo coughed it out as he tried to stand on his own two feet, though he was still wobbling between Harris and one of the men who'd been building the pipe structure to suspend the lighting equipment.
"He's not," Julie interjected hotly. She pushed away from Billie this time, though her balance was likely as precarious as Pablo's. "He's angry and has lost his mind. You don't have the right to impose that condition on them. This is my theater. My rules."
Des shot her a look and closed the distance between them with two solid steps. She told herself it was her recent trauma, not his imposing demeanor, that had her giving way a step, bumping into the solid bulk of Billie. Christ, he had a buff torso.
She almost drowned in the turmoil of emotions she saw in Des's face. It forced her back to what had nearly happened to her, something she wasn't prepared to handle while she was still so unsteady on her feet.
Maybe he saw that. His jaw relaxed a fraction and he glanced at Billie. "If you don't mind watching after her, I need to get out of here a few minutes. If he says one more stupid thing, I'm going to break his fucking neck."
"Go, honey-chile. She's safe here. I'll watch over her like a mother hen."
Des gave Julie another searching look. This one was less angry, but held enough other messages to dry up any other fumbling defenses she could launch. He left the stage, but not before he gave every person around them another fierce stare. "You all heard what I said."
The slamming of the stage door rocked the theater. A moment of silence prevailed, then Billie touched her arm with one finger, making a sizzling sound through his teeth.
"What are you doing?" Julie asked, twitching away.
"That was a branding, honey-chile. Sure as my finely tuned nose detects a prime piece of beef."
Pablo cleaned up his mess and cleared out without saying much of anything to anyone, and nothing to her. Billie told her to expect a text from the young rigger, backing out of the show. "He's embarrassed, and he figures you're going to fire him anyway. But if he's a decent human being, and I think that silly boy is, he'll take to heart what Des told him. Once he sets his ego aside and spends more time learning his basics instead of showing off."
Well and good, but it left a hole in her program.
Once she'd assured Billie she could leave his side without a major critical care incident, Julie went into the bathroom and gratefully closed the door. A renewed wave of shaking took her down to the floor on her backside, and stress
tears spilled out. Before it became outright sobbing, she pulled herself together, struggled to her feet and took stock of the damage in the mirror. Des was right. She was going to have some bruising along her neck, a major hickey. From the increasing soreness throughout the rest of her body, she was sure she'd be groaning when she got out of bed tomorrow morning.
As she stood there staring at herself in the mirror, instead of reflective glass, she saw it all happening again and quaked. It could have been so much worse.
Which was why Des had been so enraged. He'd turned caveman on her, bigtime. During their two brief connections, she'd recognized his protective instincts, a genuine caring for another living being. He also took what he did damn seriously, and now she understood why. Risk Aware Consensual Kink, indeed.
None of that was wrong, but something more personal was going on in his reaction to the situation. No. She told herself not to go there. She'd fooled herself about a man's feelings toward her before. She wasn't going to jump into that pool again. Hadn't she told herself only an hour ago that she wasn't even interested in that?
She washed her face, combed her hair, and left the bathroom. Hesitating backstage, she realized she wasn't ready to go back up front and watch them repair things or resume the day's work. Instead, after some waffling, she went out the stage door to get some fresh air. And to find Des.
She'd been almost certain he wouldn't leave the premises until he checked on her again, and she felt an odd tilt in her chest to find she was right. He was sitting on the bay of their one loading dock, eating peanut butter pretzel pillows and sipping from a bottle of water.
He tucked it away in his pack as she sat down next to him, a careful buffer of space between them. He detailed her physical and mental state with one look, and his gaze flared with anger again as it passed over her throat where the abrasions were already showing.
She wanted to apologize, and she steeled herself against that, knowing it was a kneejerk reaction. It might also set him off again and she'd lash back. Normally she'd summon her usual sass and tell him to stop being a dick, but she couldn't say that to the guy who'd made sure she hadn't ended up in an oxygen-deprived coma.
"Are you okay?" he asked. It was his normal voice, which helped settle her nerves.
"Yeah."
"Good. Madison's on her way. She's taking you to the urgent care, since you won't go with me."
So much for relaxing. Her back went up again. "I won't go with anyone. I told you--"
"Julie." His sharp look made her bite back the words, but he tempered it with a brief touch on the top of her hand. "I'm not being a jerk. I told Logan what happened and the first words out of his mouth were why you weren't already on your way to one. I told him it's your call, and it is, but hear me out. I know you're rattled and it's natural to try and regain control by saying you're fine. But if you trust my expertise, believe me when I say there's damage that can occur that you can't feel and I can't see. You don't fuck with injuries like this just to save face. Go for the people who care about you. It's a few hours of your life."
She stared out into the parking lot, refusing to look at him. He might be right, but she wanted to bristle and spit. Which was probably part of wanting to regain control, too.
