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Caelan appeared beside him. He placed a soothing hand on Dylan’s arm. “Whoa, Dylan. Take it down a notch. Everything’s okay. Take a deep breath.” His touch and his words helped pull Dylan back to his senses. “Abbie’s tending to Kendra. We need to focus on Lauralee right now.”
As the red haze cleared, Dylan drew in a deep, calming breath. He turned to Lauralee. She was gasping, tears streaming down her face.
“Are you okay?”
“I think so,” she said, managing a smile through her tears. “I tried to say my safeword, but I couldn’t speak with his hand so tight. I think I just panicked. I hope I didn’t get him into too much trouble.”
“You didn’t get him into trouble. He got himself there. I’m sorry this happened to you,” Caelan said.
They worked quickly to release Lauralee from the cross. Once she was down and on her feet, Caelan turned to Dylan. “Why don’t you check on Kendra? I’ll get one of the dungeon monitors to see after Lauralee, and then I’d like to talk with you, if that’s okay. Can we meet in the private dining room in ten minutes?”
“Yeah, sure,” Dylan agreed, mortified. Calmer now, he was embarrassed and ashamed of his overly emotional reaction. He’d really lost control.
He hurried over to Kendra, who had come down from her flight without his having been there to bring her back. She had a short silk kimono draped over her shoulders. Her cousin stood nearby, holding a cold bottle of water.
“Thanks for taking care of Kendra, Abbie,” he said.
“No problem,” Abbie replied. “Tommy helped me get her down.” She frowned. “I’m glad someone confronted that guy. He’s been strutting around all week like a rooster in the henhouse. His poor sub is like a frightened little rabbit. He seems to have missed the lecture on safe, sane and consensual.”
“Agreed,” Dylan said grimly. He turned his attention to Kendra. “I’m so sorry,” he said, pulling her into a gentle embrace. “I wish I’d been here to end the scene with you.”
“Hey, it’s cool,” Kendra assured him. “You did the right thing. That guy was a flaming dick, and we both knew it.”
“Yeah,” Dylan agreed. “But I overreacted. It’s because…” he trailed off, not quite ready to tell her the whole horrible story. “I just can’t stand to see someone ignoring a safe signal. It makes my blood boil.”
“I totally get it,” Kendra said supportively. “I would have liked to punch the guy out myself,” she added with a grimace.
“Listen,” Dylan said, Caelan’s request high in his mind. “Can you forgive me for leaving you for a few more minutes, Kendra? Caelan wants to talk to me.”
“Sure,” Kendra said. “I’ll be fine.”
“Can you see to her aftercare, Abbie?” Dylan asked, glad her cousin was with her.
Abbie put her arm around Kendra’s shoulder. “Absolutely. Do what you need to do.”
When Dylan walked into the private dining room, Caelan was at the table, two bottles of chilled water in front of him. As Dylan took a seat, Caelan asked, “You feeling better? You got pretty worked up in there.”
Dylan ran a hand over his face. “I know. I’m really sorry. The guy was totally out of line, but I didn’t handle it very well.”
“Don’t worry about him,” Caelan counseled, pushing one of the water bottles toward Dylan. “Let’s focus on you right now.” He took a drink of his water and leaned forward. “I’m not sure if you know my background. I’m a psychiatrist by training. My primary focus was on research, but I had a small private practice as well.”
“Uh oh,” Dylan said, managing a grin. “You gonna shrink my head now?”
“Nothing so dire,” Caelan replied with an answering smile. “I just wanted you to know that I’m here for you if you want to talk about what’s underlying your reaction. I got the sense that you were responding to more than just what was going on back there. His bad behavior was a trigger for you. Is there something in your background that made you especially sensitive to what he was doing?”
Dylan blew out a breath. He’d never talked about this out loud with anyone, too ashamed that he’d walked away instead of taking action. He forced himself to meet Caelan’s gaze. Caelan was regarding him with a calm, open expression.
Dylan closed his eyes a moment, gathering his thoughts. “Look,” he finally said, pressing his hands flat against the table to keep from clenching them. “I know I probably overreacted with that guy. Not in stopping him from engaging in dangerous behavior, but in how I let it affect me. And how I let my issues affect my behavior.”
Maybe talking about what had happened would help him deal with the anger more productively. Grateful for someone to talk to at last, he blew out a breath and began.
