They Are Mine

I wanted to smack my forehead against the bar counter as soon as I saw the guy walk up. He sauntered across the dance floor with little gyrating moves of his hips that required great strength from me not to point and laugh. I almost did when I saw the piece of toilet paper stuck to his foot, but by some great miracle, I contained myself.

I had been sitting on this bar stool for over an hour, waiting for my ride to pick me up. So far, I had not even gotten a text from the little prick taxi driver who had promised to be here in time to take me to The Dungeon; an exclusive BDSM club that I used to love to go to on the weekend.

That was, up until the last month when I had almost gotten my two best friends killed because I was hard-headed and stubborn. I felt the smile melt off my lips as the always-present guilt started to gnaw at my gut again.

It started out when a crazy psychopathic woman attacked Lizzie and tried to kill her. The insane, and I mean that literally, woman came into The Dungeon and asked me for Master Jack. This woman claimed that she was his sister and needed to get a hold of him right away. So, being the bleeding heart that I am, I broke one of the biggest rules in the club and gave her Lizzie’s address.

As a result of that night, Lizzie is still recovering from the multiple stab wounds that she had received in the fight with that crazy woman who refused to accept that she had been replaced.

But that did not even begin to touch what I had done to Vie.

I had become unwillingly caught up in the world of drug lords and hitmen after accepting a substantial inheritance from my uncle.

A rather nefarious uncle, who had apparently stolen the money from his old boss. A man who happened to be a drug lord. The next thing I knew, I was being put at the top of a Most Wanted list in the drug world and had several hitmen on my tail.

So, what did I do? I foolishly ran away thinking that they would leave my friends alone if I were not there.

I could not have been more wrong.

The consequences of my cowardice had been Vie almost losing her life in Antoine’s desperate attempt to get back at me.

Since then, in pure Bethany fashion, I have stayed completely away from everyone. After all, I was too dangerous for them to be around. If anything else happened to them because of me, I was going to shatter.

This way was much easier.

I took a quick drink of my beer to help swallow down the lump that had formed as the images of their near-death experiences came to mind once again.

I would not be going back tonight except Lizzie had called and made me promise to be at the club for her official collaring ceremony. It was out of pure guilt that I had agreed to be there.

Speaking of being there, I thought to myself as I checked my watch and realized that I was almost half an hour late already. All because the jackass taxi driver was obviously no good with time management.

“Hey sexy, you gotta name?”

I looked up to see the sauntering man had stopped inches from my face. His slurred speech and beer-drenched breath forced me to draw back away from him a bit just to breathe clean air.

“Yeah, it's Can't,” I said with a dull smile on my face.

I kept trying to look around him at the door, hoping he would take the hint. However, in this man's inebriated state, he did not notice my disinterest.

“Now, what kind of name is Can’t?” he asked.

Great, drunk, and dumb, I thought in disgust. I finally looked at him with my purple eyes (contacts I know, but they rocked), hoping that my complete Goth outfit would finally scare him off.

“It means you can't handle me, that I'm too much for you. My kink is definitely not your kink,” I declared as I looked the man up and down, letting the disgust show on my face as I sized him up.

I wanted to smirk at his preppy boy clothes and his boy band haircut. This man looked barely old enough to shave, and it was only too obvious that he honestly thought he was God’s gift to women.

“Babe, I know I can handle you and I like my woman a little on the kinky side,” he boasted pompously.

I huffed out a frustrated sigh as I checked my watch again. If the cabby didn't get here soon, then I was going to have to walk. The club was so far away that at that point, I might as well not even show up with how late I would be. I definitely did not have time to straighten out a boy like him and fully explain to him the ins and outs of BDSM.

I drew myself up to my whole 5'0” size and was thankful, not for the first time, that bar stools had the little bar at the bottom. Standing on that, I could tower over him, making me look more intimidating than my frame, a very small frame, normally would be.

“Look, kid. I like it rough, and I mean whips and chains rough,” I explained as I threw a few dollars on the counter.

“I don't mind, babe. I let you tie me up and do whatever you want,” he breathed out, anticipation making his voice husky.

I stopped in the process of hopping off the stool and looked at him in shock. Oh, so that was the way of things, was it? I could have fun with this. Rewarding him with my most seductive smile before grabbing the nearest napkin and scribbling down an address.

“Here is my address, big boy. If you want to have the same kind of fun, meet me there in one hour. Now my roommate is there right now. So, when she answers the door, just tell her Bethy sent you and go straight back to the second room on the right,” I explained.