Amy Valenti - Not Your Damn Submissive (Denial #1) (7 page)

Hurrying footsteps approached.
“My, oh my, what on earth is that almighty noise?”

Despite the way the girl had startled me, I couldn
’t help but smile at the familiar voice with its soft Southern undertone. As a large-bosomed, grandmotherly figure rounded the corner, I called, “It’s just me, Trish!”

Trish beamed from ear to ear and enveloped me in a hug.
“So good to see you, Kat. I see you’ve already met Rochelle.”

“
I did,” I said into her shoulder, fighting the tears that stung my eyelids. “Sorry I haven’t been able to visit in person until now.”

“
You have your reasons.” Trish drew back and cupped my face in her hands, concern replacing her smile. “And it seems like you have reasons for coming back, too. Come along with me and I’ll put on a fresh pot of coffee.”

Whispering a thank you, I glanced around for the little girl, Rochelle, so I could tell her it
’d been nice to meet her. The bench where she’d been sitting was now vacant; she’d disappeared while I’d been distracted.

Shrugging to myself, I
followed Trish through to the kitchen, where a couple of preschool-age boys were making a significant dent in a package of cookies and getting crumbs everywhere. They looked up guiltily as Trish walked in, but she only laughed and told them to take some of the cookies back to their mother. The boys either thought that was a great idea, or were pretending to, so they could take their find elsewhere to finish off the lot. I stepped aside as they charged out into the hallway, both holding onto one end of the package as though neither one trusted the other to give him a fair share. Where cookies were concerned, my sister and I had been the same way when we were their age.

I set about cleaning up the mess they
’d made while Trish made coffee. She reminded me of the Oracle character from
The Matrix
, all domestic and smiling and obsessed with cookies. This was like old times, which was both frightening and comforting.

She didn
’t press me for information about the reason for my visit until we were seated in Trish’s office, with the door firmly locked against interruptions. “What brings you here, Kat, honey?”

I took a sip of coffee while she waited patiently. It had taken me forever to open up the first time I
’d been here, and she’d been just the same back then. After a few moments, I asked her, “You remember why I came here originally?”

Trish nodded.
“I do.”

We didn
’t need to get into any more detail. It was enough just to acknowledge the past before I explained my current dilemma.

“
There’s a guy interested in me, and he’s into…that.”

“
Ahh.” Disapproval creased Trish’s face. “Have you told him no?”

“
That was the first thing I did. Even though he’s…” I couldn’t help a shiver of guilty pleasure when I thought about Callum. “If he didn’t want to do that stuff with me, I’d have slept with him already.”

“
But he does,” Trish said gently.

“
And telling him no hasn’t stopped him from being interested.” I sighed. “Or me from being interested back. I…” Dropping my voice to a whisper out of embarrassment more than necessity, I leaned forward in my chair. “I let him spank my ass yesterday, and I liked it. Trish, how can I be so stupid? I already know how this ends.”

She took my hand.
“Honey, I’ve heard the same words—minus the spanking part—from a hundred different women. Most of them end up back here. Some I never hear from again, and I don’t know if that’s because they found their happily-ever-afters or because they’re dead.”

The shiver that went through me now was
born of dread. I knew it was common for people to end up here more than once, and for people to be killed by their abusers. “But he doesn’t feel dangerous to me. Not that kind of dangerous. Just a good kind, if that even makes sense.”

“
Did your ex feel dangerous?”

“
Not really,” I whispered, my heart sinking. “Not until he…”

That was what it all came down to. I couldn
’t trust my own judgement. My heart told me that Callum was safe to be around, but what was that quote? Something like, ‘the heart is deceitful above all things’?

“
What you have to ask yourself is what kind of man enjoys hurting women enough to make a game out of it?” Trish leaned forward, concern furrowing her brow. “I know there’s been some acceptance of this kind of thing, what with those books getting so big and women falling all over themselves to talk about how much they’d love to be in the heroine’s position…but a book is what got you into trouble in the first place, right?”

I couldn
’t help but get defensive at her words. Not about the books, but… “What kind of women enjoys the thought of being tied up and dominated and beaten by a man, then? Surely if it’s okay for me to be feeling it, there must be some reason why the men on the opposite side enjoy it too?”

Trish sighed.
“I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with you, Kat. Just that fantasies are fantasies. If you try to make them reality… Well, you’ve already found out how that ends, right?”

I put down my coffee. Suddenly I just didn
’t feel like putting anything in my stomach. The nervous nausea I’d had when I’d come to the front door of the shelter had returned, and I didn’t know what to believe, or why I was so confused when Trish was saying things that made perfect sense.

“
Have you ever heard of people having that sort of relationship and being happy in it? In real life, I mean?”

Trish shook her head, sympathy radiating from her.
“Honey, I’ve lived a lot of years and helped a lot of people get out of abusive relationships. You and one other person have been the only ones who’ve mentioned this BDSM crap to me, and both of you did it with tears on your faces and bruises all over you. I’ve rarely seen someone as traumatised as you were.”

She stood up and reached for my hand.
“I’m gonna do the rounds, make sure everyone has had enough to eat and whatnot. You don’t have to if you don’t feel up to it, but maybe it would be a good idea for you to come with me.”

She didn
’t add ‘to see what you could look like if you decide to give a man permission to beat you again’, but she didn’t need to. And wasn’t this why I’d come, really? To refresh my memory where the past was concerned, and to find the resolve to keep Callum at arm’s length?

I took Trish
’s hand and got to my feet. “Sure. No problem.”

I lasted only until I entered one of the four m
ini-dormitories. The shelter was way bigger than most, I gathered—Trish’s husband had been wealthy and had died young. She’d put all the money she’d inherited from him into buying and running this place. I’d never asked if it was because he’d been abusive to her before his death, or how he’d died, but I had my suspicions.

There were six bunk beds in each room, and the room we visited first was the one I
’d stayed in back when I was eighteen.

I couldn
’t tell how many of the beds were currently occupied, but I knew some of them would be taken by children who’d fled domestic violence with their mothers. Five kids were playing with the toys in one corner, heartbreakingly quietly for children, as though they’d been disciplined for being too loud so many times that it was automatic for them to censor themselves now. Two of the women sat side by side on plastic chairs and talked. The remaining woman was curled into a foetal position on one of the bottom bunks, her back to the doorway. I tried not to stare as we passed, but even from here I could see the bruises on the back of her neck and side of her face.

It was a chilling reminder of the way I
’d been the day I’d arrived. Everything had hurt—my body, my pride and my heart. I hadn’t felt like eating or interacting with anyone. After Trish had admitted me to the dormitory, I’d lain here for hours, waiting for
him
to break down the door and find me.

“
Trish, I’m sorry. I need to leave.”

She accompanied me out of the room, excusing herself quietly from the other women.
“Don’t think you’re going out there and driving in that condition, Kat. You’re as white as a sheet. If you don’t sit down you’ll pass out—here, sit.”

She led me to the bench Rochelle had been sitting on earlier, and I flopped down on it numbly. For some reaso
n, I couldn’t even cry for my past self, for the shadow of her that still lived in my brain, or for the scared, hopeless woman on the bed in the next room. I was just exhausted and trembly all of a sudden.

“
I need to get out of here. I’m sorry. I’ll go for a walk before I get in the car, get some fresh air.”

“
Not without eating some cookies, you won’t. Rochelle, could you grab me the cookie jar, honey?”

I hadn
’t even realised the girl was within earshot, but within a minute she was at my side, holding out a ceramic jar shaped like a teddy bear. “Here. They’re chocolate chip.”

I glanced at Trish, who was wearing her no-nonsense expression. I knew better than to argue with her and took a cookie meekly.
“Thank you,” I told Rochelle, and bit into the crumbly sweetness.

“
Are you okay?” she asked.

I forced a smile.
“Yeah. I was just remembering some bad things.”

She nodded as though she understood perfectly. She probably did, poor kid.
“Cookies help. Not forever, just for a little while.”

I had to admit, I was alre
ady feeling a lot better. “They do.”

I left the shelter after one more hug from Trish and orders to call her if I needed anything. Rochelle waved at me, then disappeared with the cookie jar. I wondered if I
’d ever see her again. For both of our sakes, I hoped not.

Chapter Five

Kat

The visit to the shelter had been meant to be a wake-up call, but I was more confused than ever. Yeah, I knew my past experiences had been screwed up.
I’d
been screwed up. Maybe I still was, despite years of therapy, and that was why I was so attracted to Callum. But I couldn’t understand why he was so tempting even after what I’d seen at the shelter.

At least I knew now that I couldn
’t take Callum’s option three. Kneeling at his feet was something I yearned to do, but as Trish had said, fantasies were fantasies. It didn’t mean I should go chasing them.

Option number one made the most sense, but I didn
’t want that either. For one thing, being his assistant—only his assistant—wasn’t so bad, or at least it wouldn’t be now he’d apologised. On top of that, if I got through the next couple of weeks with him I’d get an extra week of paid vacation time, and that wasn’t something I was eager to turn down.

Option two it is, then
, I’d decided as I’d tossed and turned in bed last night. I could drool over Callum from a safe distance and chalk the whole thing up to experience at the end.

He wasn
’t in his trailer when I got to work, and I wasn’t sure where to look. For some reason, after checking with makeup to see if he was there, I wandered down to the living room set, which contained the beanbag that had started this whole mess. That was where I’d first met Callum, and it was where I found him now.

“
There you are. You’re due in makeup in ten minutes. If you’re late, I can’t protect you from Marcia.” I stopped on the border of the set, my feet just shy of the blue carpet we’d found for the living room.

Callum had been staring into space, but he turned at the sound of my voice.
“Hey. I wasn’t sure if you’d be in today.”

I stayed w
here I was, tempted to close the distance between us but also feeling the urge to back away as he approached. “I took my thinking time. I’ve decided.”

He nodded, waited, his focus on me intense.

“I’ll stay on as your assistant. Just your assistant, nothing more.”

Was that relief I saw on his face? Was he gla
d I’d turned down his offer? For some reason, that notion hurt. Then again, he could just be glad he didn’t have to explain to Darren why he’d lost an assistant.

“
You have my word. I won’t make any more advances on you, Kat. But if you change your mind, let me know.” He touched my shoulder as he passed me by, and I swallowed hard as a lump grew in my throat.

He
’d taken it well. He’d promised to back off. What more did I want?

Oh, we both knew what I wante
d, but he’d promised. I wasn’t going to get it, not unless I asked for it.

Why can
’t he just take the decision out of my hands and kiss me?

I shoved that thought away violently. That was exactly what I
didn’t
want.

“
Makeup, right?” he called over his shoulder, and I put my brain back into gear, following him down the hallway.

* * * *

Over an hour later, Callum opened the door to the trailer. “You in here, Kat?”

I glanced up distractedly from the stupid cell phone game I
’d been killing time with while I’d waited for him. “Yeah, I… Jesus!”

He was bleeding pretty badly from a wound just shy of his left temple. God, what had happened to him?

I jumped to my feet and ran to him, my heart racing. It was only as I reached out to touch his face that the puzzle pieces fell into place.
Movie set…makeup…fake wound. Right.

“
It’s not real, is it?” I dropped my hand back to my side and shook my head, embarrassed. “God, I’m an idiot.”

He grinned.
“Hey, at least it looks convincing enough to fool someone.”

I was s
till too filled with adrenaline to answer coherently, talking myself down from the fear that he might really be hurt.

“
Wanna take a closer look?” Callum asked.

Now that I was calming down, I had to admit it was pretty cool. It wasn
’t the first fake wound I’d seen, but the others had all been from a distance—like I’d told Callum, I didn’t interact with cast members or the makeup crew much in my usual job. “Can I?”

He held still while I brushed my fingers lightly over the prosthetic piece they
’d attached to his forehead. They’d given it an indentation where the ‘wound’ was, making it look like a nasty gash to the head, and I guessed they’d add some fresh fake blood to the stuff they’d already applied just before shooting started. The prosthetic was squishy and kind of gross, and a light dusting of makeup came away on my fingers.

“
Don’t mess it up. Marcia will have my head.” His voice was huskier than usual, and made me turn my attention from the prosthetic to the rest of his face. He was gazing at me—my eyes, my lips—and I caught my breath at the barely veiled desire in his expression. Tingles rushed between my thighs in response to his lust, and my pulse jumped again; not because I was afraid he was injured, this time.

Before I could lose
control, lean in and kiss him, Callum moved away, averting his eyes and clearing his throat. Flustered, I went back to my seat and picked up my phone again. “You still have an hour or so until filming starts, right? Paul should be in makeup now.”

Callum no
dded. “We’re going on location as soon as he’s done. I should find Spencer and work through some choreography, though. As you might have guessed, we’re doing fight scenes today. It can get a little confusing.”

“
Sure.”

There was an open space with a few mat
s laid out in one corner of the lot, and a man I assumed was Spencer was standing in front of them. He wasn’t a regular member of our crew, I knew that much.

Seeing us approach, he raised a hand.
“Cal! Wondered when I was gonna see you again, you son of a bitch. Nice head wound.”

Callum returned his macho hug.
“Good to see you, man. It’s been how long?”

“
Since I kicked your ass last? Two years, at least.” Spencer glanced across at me. “And who’s this?”

“
My temporary assistant, Kat. She’s usually with the set department, but she’s helping to keep me on track while I’m up here.”

At Callum
’s introduction, I smiled and shook Spencer’s hand. Something about him set me on alert the same way Callum did, though not to the same extremes. “Nice to meet you.”
I think.

“
Likewise. I’m the stunt coordinator on this sorry production—Spencer Hyde.”

Callum winced at his friend
’s damning assessment of the show. “Keep it down, Spence.”

“
Have you seen the dailies? God knows what the studio is thinking, trying to take this shit to the network.”

On behalf of my
co-workers as well as myself, I felt like I had to step in. “It wouldn’t be so bad if the author of the books wasn’t rewriting half of our scripts and changing our sets to suit her ‘vision’,” I said, air-quoting for emphasis. “There are good people on this team—we’re just working with what we have.”

Spencer slanted a glance in my direction.
“Oh, I don’t doubt it. I just don’t know what Cal and I are doing here.”

“
We both owe favours to the same friend, the author’s brother,” Callum filled in. “We wouldn’t be working on this one otherwise.”

“
Oh…” Did that mean Callum definitely wasn’t going to be taking a role as recurring guest star after these two weeks were up? I’d assumed as much, but part of me had hoped there was a chance.

“
And the less that dickhead is mentioned, the better,” Spencer said darkly. “Come on, Connors. Time to put you through your paces.”

I made sure I was well out of range of any flailing fists or feet, glancing down at my schedule to make sure I
’d get Callum to the minibus on time for the location shoot. I looked up again just in time to see him carefully easing his shirt over his head, preserving the fake wound on his forehead.
Oh, great. I turn the guy down and he’s gonna strip off to show me what I’m missing? Why does he need to lose the shirt if he’s just doing choreography?

I was probably reading way too much into it, but that didn
’t stop me from getting hot and bothered as the two shirtless men circled each other. Spencer was more muscular and obviously spent a lot of time in the gym—not my type, though he was definitely attractive. Callum, though… I wanted to drag him off to some dark corner and run my hands and lips all over that gorgeous torso.

I turned away abruptly, reminding myself of the wom
an on the bunk bed last night—scared and hopeless and bruised. There was no way I’d go there again, not even if it meant copping a feel of Callum’s delicious body.

There was a thump behind me, followed by a masculine grunt and Spencer
’s laughter. I turned, unable to deny my curiosity, as Callum got to his feet, a light sheen of sweat on his skin. “Okay, okay, I get it. You’re stronger than me. You gonna teach me how to pull that one off?”

I could practically taste the rising testosterone as the two guys circled
and sparred, looking for openings. This was definitely not choreography rehearsal—their blows connected, though not hard enough to do any damage. A couple of times I thought Callum had outwitted Spencer, but every time the outcome was the same—Callum landing with a wince and a thud on the mat.

Getting up for the sixth time
—or was it the seventh?—he glanced over in my direction. I must have looked concerned, because he called, “I’m fine, Kat. Spencer’s just asserting his dominance over me.” There was more than a little dryness in his words.

I rolled my eyes to give the impression that I didn
’t care. “Why don’t you two just get a room? Or better yet, you could both just whip ‘em out and I can tell you whose is bigger.”
Gee, thanks, brain. I really needed the mental image to go with that cliché.

Spencer looked between us, then raised an eyebrow at Callum.
“‘Assistant’, huh?”

Callum shook his head, a clear warning on his features.
“Don’t go there, man.”

Spencer gave me one
more analytical stare before turning away. “Okay. Let me show you how I’ve been kicking your ass. We’ll do the choreography on the set.”

While Spencer shifted to an instructor
’s role and Callum actually started to win some of their bouts, I pondered what the stunt guy been getting at. Was Spencer a Dom too? Had he picked up on my submissiveness the way Callum had? If that was true, I didn’t like it. I didn’t want to be a beacon for every Dom in the vicinity. I’d survived ten years without being approached by one—what had changed within the last week?

“
Kat?”

I blinked up into Callum
’s face, startled. I hadn’t meant to go so deep into my own thoughts, but he had his shirt in hand and was obviously done with Spencer, who chugged a bottle of water in the middle of the mat.

“
Huh?”

Callum pulled on his shirt as he spoke, his fake head wound still in place.
“Time to go on location, right?”

I glanced down at my watch in alarm.
“Shit, yes. Thank you.” Embarrassed by my dreaminess, I added, “I was just thinking about the brunch date I’m missing because of you.”

His lips twitched.
“You know, you get less convincing every time you lie about plans you had for your time off.”

I scowled up at him. There was no way he could know I
’d made no concrete plans in advance. I made a mental note to book a dentist’s appointment and schedule a routine health check for later in the week, just so I could get the hell away from him. “You don’t know a thing about my life. Come on, we’re gonna be late.”

“
You coming, Spence?” Callum called over his shoulder as we walked off.

“
I’m taking my own wheels. See you there.”

Jacie, Paul and
three actors portraying minor characters were already at the minibus when we arrived. Most of the crew were taking their equipment down separately, so this minibus was for the actors only, plus me. It made me pretty uncomfortable that neither Jacie nor Paul—the stars of the show—had their own assistants. It made me stand out, and I didn’t want them to think I was just Callum’s sex slave.
Which is what he wants me to be.

After
Jacie had exclaimed over Callum’s fake wound and used it as an excuse to get her hands all over him, we all got into the vehicle and headed the short distance downtown to a local bar.

“
All right, bar fight. Do I get to wave a broken bottle around?” Paul looked way too cheerful about getting to beat Callum up for my liking.