I carried on staring back at Max for a moment, before letting my gaze drop to Ronnie, who looked back up at me, her eyes widening in anxiety. Max was known by everyone to be a tough Dom but, even by his standards, Dominique had suffered. Both ass cheeks were criss-crossed with angry, purple welts, blood dripping in rivulets from several of them, onto the floor. This wasn’t BDSM - this was fury.

‘Let’s get you cleaned up,’ said Ronnie, helping Dominique up.  She cast me another worried glance, before looking over at Max. ‘No more,’ she said, throwing him a scowl.

There was a wobble to her voice that spoke of how hard she was trying to keep her temper. If there was one thing we agreed on, it was that a Dom always had to be in control – not just of their sub, but of themselves. ‘I’m shutting up shop,’ she said, to me, as she shepherded the unfortunate Dominique, still sobbing, from the dungeon.

I was left standing there, with Max.

‘You’re lucky Didi loves you,’ I said, looking down at the blood spattered across the stones.

‘Lucky?’ He gave a harsh laugh. ‘Oh, yes. I’m so lucky.’

‘At least you can be fairly certain there won’t be charges brought.’ I pointed out. ‘And there should be.’

‘I don’t give a fuck,’ he said. ‘It’s your club. It’d be worth it to bring you down.’

I didn’t say anything for a moment and, when I did, it was only to state the obvious. ‘You can’t use a sub – not even Didi – to take out your feelings on.’

‘My feelings?’ His eyes were wild with anger. ‘My feelings? What the fuck do you know about my feelings?’

‘More than you think,’ I said. ‘Don’t you think I’m upset, too?’

‘Upset?’ He looked like he was going to hit me. ‘Fliss is my baby cousin. She’s the only girl in the family. She was like a sister to me.’

‘Is,’ I corrected, without even thinking. ‘Is like a sister, Max. She’s not dead.’

‘Not yet,’ he said. ‘If she dies, I’ll come after you, you see if I don’t.’

‘Look.’ I took a deep breath. ‘I’m at fault, I admit it, but it was you came to me. I didn’t want anything to do with it.’

I remembered the day he’d asked me, on Giles’s behalf, to get involved in the first place. It’d been in his office, at the bank, and I’d tried then to talk him out of it. I’d almost managed it, when I’d seen Grace for the first time. Max had summoned her into his office and I’d been so distracted by her that I’d found myself agreeing to the whole deal - lock, stock and barrel. I wondered now if he hadn’t done it on purpose.

‘Are you saying it’s my fault?’ Max advanced upon me, but I stood my ground.

‘No, I’m saying we’re both at fault,’ I said. ‘We all are. Giles, as well. But none of us is to blame, not for what’s happened to her. It was Rick, Max, and you shouldn’t be here. You should be at the hospital.’

He went to speak, but instead broke down. I put my arms around him, and let him weep, silently, before taking him out of the now-emptying club and driving him to the hospital. I dropped him outside, and made my way back, once again, to the Dominion and, this time, to my bed.

Now, the next morning, I sat on the edge of that same bed, looking down at the text Grace had sent after I’d failed to reply to her calls, and wondering what to do.

Ronnie said that sometimes, we have to take a chance on the ones we love. I’m taking a chance on you, my Filth Monger. Please call.

I reread it several times. Dear Ronnie – always looking out for me, even after everything. I thought back to our conversation the previous night, and could’ve kicked myself for my choice of words. In a coma. They don’t know if she’ll make it. How could I have uttered those words so glibly? Christ, I couldn’t do right for doing wrong. I was like a wrecking ball, demolishing people’s lives and emotions with my thoughtlessness. I had to get a grip.

I looked again at the text. So, Grace wasn’t back with Sparkes and, for a moment, my heart sang. But then it plunged into the pit of my stomach, as I realised what I had to do, for her own sake. I wrote my reply carefully, wanting to send the right message while, at the same time, delivering the minimum hurt.

I sat there, looking at it for a few minutes, before finally pressing send.

I got up then, and had a shower. When I got out, I checked my phone straight away. I couldn’t help myself. Even though I knew I’d done the right thing, a small part of me was hoping she’d have replied, saying she didn’t care – she wanted to see me anyway. If she had, I knew I wouldn’t have had the strength to dissuade her again.

No texts had arrived but, even as I stared at the screen, a call came in. It was a land line – a number I didn’t recognise – and, for a moment, I wondered if it was her after all, calling me from her friend’s house. But, when I answered, it was the last person I was expecting to hear from.

    Eighteen

Her

When I got up for work, he still hadn’t replied. I dressed as quickly as I could, my fingers as numb as my heart. I was utterly crushed by his rejection. I kept telling myself he might not have seen my text, but I knew deep down that he had. He just wasn’t interested. Was it because I knew about him? Didn’t he trust me to keep quiet? Or – worse – did he realise he had no chance of doing to me what he’d done to the others, now his little game had been found out?

I didn’t know what to think. All I knew was that he’d abandoned me – left me discarded and alone, after all the sweet whispers of love that had passed between us. Had I been stupid to believe him? Probably – it’d all been too soon, really, if I was honest with myself.

How could I have believed he’d have fallen in love with me so quickly, or even at all, after my behaviour ever since he’d met me. That very night, he’d seen me in the hands of his employees, being treated like the worst kind of slut, and at his arrangement. How could I have believed he thought me worth more than a quick fuck?

Liv was waiting for me downstairs and we made our way to the Tube in high gloom. Even now, I’m not sure who was the more depressed.

‘How did I get home?’ she asked me, wincing as the train pulled away from the station.

‘We got a taxi,’ I said, remembering the ride home. I’d been constantly looking at my phone, even then, waiting for a response to my text. ‘The driver wasn’t impressed. You kept saying you were going to be sick.’

‘I wish I had been,’ she said, with a moue of disgust. ‘Maybe I’d feel a bit better this morning.’

‘Well, it’s your own fault.’ I couldn’t hide a grin. ‘It was carnage. I saw Gav and Stef being dragged into a police van.’ Not Chris, though, I’d been relieved to see. He’d been standing outside with some of the others as we’d pulled away.

I could tell Liv was suppressing a grin of her own at these words. ‘Mission accomplished,’ she said, without even a hint of shame, and giggled. ‘They deserved it.’

I couldn’t argue with this and we carried on towards work, lost in our own thoughts and feelings. We got off the Tube at Bank and, as we headed up Lombard Street, my phone rang. I jumped and stopped, my heart beating faster immediately. I hardly noticed the commuters crashing into me, as I fished in my bag for my phone.

I pulled it out, my heart racing, but it was only Jimmy.

‘Grace,’ he said, sounding excited, as ever. ‘I just heard. The photo-shoot was amazing – they’re rushing the ad campaign through, even as we speak. You’re going to be a star, my girl. You wait and see.’

‘Thanks, Jimmy,’ I said, trying to sound interested. I should’ve been interested – it was my ticket to freedom, after all – but I’d been hoping it was Nathaniel and now all I felt was an empty despair. I stood there, for a moment or two more, looking at my phone as commuters pushed past me, uttering exclamations I didn’t even register.