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Goddamn it. God-fucking-damn it.
The note crumpled in her hands as she fisted them, pressing them against her eyes. It didn’t stop the tears, nothing could at this point, but the pressure kept them from bursting free like a broken water pipe.
Connie couldn’t help herself, so why would Alicia believe she’d saved her? They’d struggled for the last year, and nothing Connie had done or said had gotten through the girl’s defenses. There had been no saving, only complete and utter failure professionally…and personally.
Now Lisha was gone—without so much as a goodbye—and there was nothing she could do to change it. She could only hope the facility would give Alicia the support and care she required. Hell, maybe Lisha would make friends.
Connie’s world was shifting beneath her feet, faster than she could keep up with. She hated it. There were too many pieces breaking away, spiraling out of control. It was the natural order of things, of course—people, even the closest friends, drifted apart a little as time moved on. Relationships, marriages, kids, careers…they all contributed to the evolution of a person.
She just wished it didn’t feel as though it was the end of the world.
Smoothing out the note, Connie refolded it carefully and slipped it into her pocket. It would go into her secret box of treasured keepsakes, the little lockbox she kept hidden in her home office. One day, she might read it again and believe she’d done some good in Alicia’s life.
She left the room, closing the door behind her.
Feeling desolate, she decided to keep her hands—and her brain—as busy as she could, and hurried to the kitchen to begin a cleaning session designed to exhaust herself. If she was tired enough, maybe when she crawled into bed that night, she wouldn’t feel a boot hammering against her body or hear Guthrie’s voice taunting her while she slept.
Please, God. Just a little respite.
***
Epilogue
In Avalon’s parking lot, Thane curled his fingers around Connie’s neck and dropped his forehead against hers. His woman was trembling in the warmth of the evening, her skin pale and clammy to the touch. She was afraid, but he hadn’t pinpointed why yet.
The last time they’d been here, that fateful Saturday night before Guthrie fucked up everything the next morning, Connie had been partially outed as a Switch. He imagined rumors and retellings of the bar scene had already made the rounds through the club, but he wasn’t positive on that—attempted murder was a lot juicier on the gossip scale.
“Why are you frightened, sugar?” he asked, kneading the tense muscles in her neck. It felt as though she’d reinforced the delicate stem with steel cables, strung so tight he was surprised they weren’t crippling her. “No one here will hurt you.”
“It’s not that.” She anchored herself with his waist. “My life’s falling apart, Thane. All my safe places aren’t safe anymore. What if we walk through the doors and Avalon isn’t mine the way I need it to be? I can’t deal with any more upheaval. I just haven’t got the strength.”
“I have had the pleasure of working with some of the strongest, most determined men and women this country has to offer, sugar. We went through hell together, dragged each other out again, and did some great things.” He pressed his lips to the tip of her nose. “You, Doctor Monroe, went to hell and came back again, all by yourself, when Evan did his best to destroy you. This time around, you’re not on your own. You’ll never be alone again. You are so much stronger than you ever give yourself credit for, Connie.”
She blinked at him.
“We won’t know what we could have become before Guthrie strolled into our lives and blew them apart. I’m telling you I’m not dwelling on it, because whatever we could have been is nothing compared to what we will be now. And yeah, we have a lot of work to do to set things back on an even keel—therapy, for starters—but our story hasn’t even hit the end of the first chapter. Avalon is the heart of it, so Avalon will always be yours.” He tipped her head back, met her brimming gray eyes with his goddamn heart in his own. “Just like me.”
Connie moved before him, grasping his cheeks as the first tear slipped down her cheek. The kiss she initiated was hard, feverish, a melding of lips conveying all the emotions she couldn’t divulge in words. He tasted her anxiety, even as her fingers stroked through his beard lovingly. There was relief behind the sheen of moisture in her eyes, grief in the tears she couldn’t hold back.
Thane hitched her close, sling and healing shoulder be damned. There were several pairs of eyes on them, unsurprisingly. Connie was well-loved here, the Mistress a key figure within the club. There would never be a time when she didn’t have someone to watch her back—and he was only the first in a line of many willing to keep her safe.
“I love you, Thane.” The kiss broke on the whispered declaration. “I love you.”
A car cruised slowly down the driveway, the headlights illuminating them where they stood.
He ran the pad of his thumb over the shape of her lips as his eyes raked over her face. No amount of makeup could hide the pain she was in, the horror she’d been through. Gently, he skimmed his fingertips over the remnants of swelling on her cheekbone, the bruises he found abhorrent no matter what their color.
In twelve hours’ time, they would be driving two hours to Atticus’s cabin in the Saguaro National Park. With the Master’s help, Thane had wrangled a month’s leave for Connie from the practice, and as far as he was concerned, it marked the beginning of their healing process.
Time away, together, to talk about everything. Time to just be. Out in the wilderness, they didn’t have to be Dominant and submissive. There were no masks to keep firmly in place. They could just be two wounded people finding solace in each other.
“Not as much as I love you, Connie. Trust me.” Thane kissed her again, then stepped back and curled his arm around her waist as the car pulled into a space and the engine died. “Come on, your adoring fans are waiting for you, sugar. I heard a rumor Loki is planning on doing a striptease, just for you.”
Connie choked on a surprised laugh, pressing her hand gingerly to sore ribs. “Nothing’s ever a rumor when it comes to Loki being the center of attention. That stripper pole they installed for Bodie might actually get some use.”
He leaned in close, murmuring, “Maybe I can be your stripper pole later.”
“We both agreed no playing tonight. Neither of us are in the right headspace, and I don’t think either of us could lift a flogger for more than five minutes at this point.” She guided him up the steps onto the porch, just as much as he ushered her. “This is…”
