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The air shifted as Maddy leaned against the wall next to him, his shoulder only a few inches away. He’d pulled on long sleeves, which was strange for him, since he’d finally become comfortable in his own skin.
When Clint had first met Maddy, he’d done his best to ignore the marks that covered most of Maddy’s body. He had his own, and he knew what it was like being unable to control his own skin, and if anything, he’d learned Maddy was stronger because of them. Still, he had his days where he covered himself in long sleeves and pants, shielding himself from prying eyes. He knew Maddy was in his element on the days he strolled around topless.
“Just a headache,” Maddy mused, biting his lower lip. “And just a fall earlier.”
Brat. The last thing he needed was one more person on his case. He had enough friends to last several lifetimes, and they all seemed to want to check in with him lately. I’m fucking fine.
“Don’t you have a Dom to go bother?” asked Clint, scanning the crowd for Derreck’s form. He winced as his temples throbbed, the low lights in the club still a bit too bright. “Or is he working again tonight?”
Derreck’s work schedule was more haphazard than Clint’s, but that came with the territory. When you dug graves for a living, you never knew when peak season would be. Frost was a bitch, too. Luckily, they were at the end of summer at the moment.
“He’s in the basement tonight as Dungeon Master, remember?” Maddy turned to him, raising one brow with a look that was a tad judgmental.
He didn’t, in fact, remember that. He hadn’t thought the event was until tomorrow, actually. Did Maddy plan something without me? He was looking after the club more and more as he became comfortable.
The new system was completely computerized, but sometimes Clint found himself out of the loop. He used to know who was where, and exactly what they were doing.
“Shibari?” asked Clint, racking his brain for what event it could be. The mirrors in the basement, along with the enforced rebar framing were perfect to tie someone up and give them a little spin.
In the initial sketches for the new build, the basement had been unfinished. But that had changed right quick. There was nothing scarier to subbies than a dark basement with the slight scent of dampness, despite the dehumidifying system and sump pumps. Some of the best gang bangs had taken place down there.
“No. Wax play. We thought the basement would be best because of the flooring. It’s easy to scrape any spills off concrete, compared to some of the other materials.” Maddy looked toward the crowd that had gathered by the cross, smiling at the display.
Clint’s heart dropped like a stone, settling into his gut and sending bile creeping up his throat. “Wax?”
“Yes,” said Maddy, letting out a yawn that was wide enough to crack his jaw. “I told Derreck you okayed it. I figured you wouldn’t mind because it’s just a few candles.”
His palms went simultaneously cold and sweaty, his body flushing so fiercely that he wondered if he would hit the ground after all. Just a few candles.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Maddy?” Clint pushed away from the wall, rage simmering beneath his skin as he narrowed his eyes. “I hired you to help me out with this place, not burn it to the ground.” A few gazes turned their way, but Clint ignored them, storming to the doorway as his heart pounded.
Just a few candles. It’s okay. It was absolutely not okay, no matter how many times he told himself that. The skin along his belly tingled, flaming hotter as he pictured the flickering blaze. He knew how quickly a single spark could turn into an inferno. The wood in the house was still fresh, and it could go up in flames in an instant.
“Shit. Shit.” His shoulder thudded off the doorway as he broke into a run, darting down the hall and nearly crashing into Betty and her new sub, Gus. His shoulder ached, but he shook it off, picking up his pace with adrenaline alone pushing him onward.
“You okay, Clint?” Betty called after him.
He shook his head, dragging in a deep breath as his vision started to swim. There were too many fucking square feet between him and the basement.
Nightmare was the room that led to the basement, and it was aptly named. Maddy had actually come up with the idea for it, and the builders Shelvin and Elliott had been too happy to go along with it—Shelvin more so.
Maddy. He shook his head, tossing his guilt to the side as he flicked on every switch just inside the door. Light flooded the room, along with screeching music and a thumping beat loud enough that his headache burst into a full-on migraine. The door to the basement was shut, so he grabbed for the handle, tugging hard even as his sweaty palm slipped.
The smell hit him first.
At one time it would have reminded him of birthday candles or campfires—and burnt marshmallows with the crispy caramelized surface. The heat had always been so soothing, banishing every cold thought and aching bone.
Now it was dread and thick agony that almost sent him to his knees.
Clutching at the railing, he stumbled down the stairs, his head buzzing as he hit the landing. His heart nearly stopped at the sight, every hair on his flesh standing at full attention.
There could have been a thousand candles, but it was impossible to tell with the mirrors that lined every wall except a quiet space at the far end. Light flickered on each surface—an orange and yellow flame taunting him with hints of brutal red.
There were two couples involved in the madness, one’s back nearly painted blue with flaking wax that shone against their skin in a crusty shell. The candle was burning low in a measured grip. All it would take was one wrong move and it would be on the floor, ready to catch at the nearest piece of cloth. Derreck was on the other side of the room, probably too far to do anything about it in time.
Where the hell are the fire extinguishers? If he had his way, they would be stacked in every room.
“Fuck! Put it out!” Clint yelled as loud as he could, his voice echoing in the space. Derreck looked his way, but he didn’t move. He didn’t do anything.
