Initiative [Suncoast Society] (Siren Publishing Sensations) Read online

  Kristin brought Susan’s lunch to her. It was now one of Kristin’s missions in life to ensure she saw Susan eat at least one meal a day during workdays, since during the first couple of months after John’s death Susan had lost over thirty pounds from not eating and hadn’t gained them back.

  Kristin set the plastic container on Susan’s desk. “I noticed Jackass doesn’t look very happy at the ride downgrade.”

  Susan smiled as she popped the lid on the large salad with grilled chicken. “Yeah, he wasn’t.”

  Susan had made sure Matt took a picture of Jack’s face when he saw the car.

  Susan stirred the salad with her fork. “Hey, as Ed told me, the will doesn’t specify what kind of car we have to provide for him as long as he’s an employee, only that it’s a car.”

  “What if he tries to wreck it?”

  Susan shrugged. “Then he can get his own car. I’m not obligated to replace it if he does that.”

  “Ha!” Kristin settled in her usual chair with her own salad. The two ate lunch together nearly every day. “Why’d you wait so long to try to get rid of him, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “Because I could only deal with so much at once. I finally feel like I have my feet planted firmly enough under me now that I can deal with the stress getting him out of my life for good will put me through.”

  “You are still going to your high school reunion this weekend, I hope?”

  Susan glanced at the postcard pinned to the cork board next to her desk. “Yeah, I should go. Get out. See people. I can picture me being a real drag, though. ‘Hey, Susan, what have you done over the past twenty years?’ ‘Oh, married a great guy, ran a successful business with him until his brother fucking murdered him through sheer stupidity two years ago, and I have to look at that asshole’s fucking face every day.’” She grimly smiled. “Great conversation starter.”

  Kristin cocked her head at Susan. “Stop,” she gently said. “You said yourself you wish you could reconnect with some people. Now’s the time to do it.”

  “I know.” She dug through her salad. “I hope Darryl and Grant are there.”

  “Were they your D and D buddies?”

  “Yeah.” Those wistful thoughts brought a smile to her face. “I was such a geek in high school. I didn’t fit in. I liked cars but the gearheads in shop wanted nothing to do with me. I ended up in this small clique of kids who didn’t belong anywhere else. And we had fun. We played D and D, loved sci-fi movies, hung around together—it was great.”

  “What happened?”

  “Life happened. College, jobs, and we lost contact. That was before Facebook and everyone had e-mail and cell phones that texted and did everything.”

  “Isn’t there some sort of website or something for the reunion where you can connect with people?”

  “I’d rather be surprised. Go in with no expectations.” The truth was, it would disappoint the hell out of her if Grant and Darryl weren’t there, and she knew she wouldn’t go if she discovered in advance they weren’t going.

  “Well, I think it’ll be good for you. Go tie one on, have fun, puke in a hotel room bathroom, and sleep it off the next day.”

  “Gee, thanks. I think.”

  Kristin smiled. “You need to get away for a weekend.”

  “It’s just up on Siesta Key. Not like I’m going to the Keys or something.”

  “You know dang well what I mean. I have to order you home every day.”

  “I have a business to run.”

  “John never intended for you to run yourself into the ground in the process. And don’t say you aren’t, because I know damn well that’s what you’re trying to do to escape. Some people do drugs or drink. You work.”

  Susan didn’t have an answer for that.

  Mostly, because Kristin was right, and she knew that Kristin knew it, too.

  There wasn’t much about Susan that Kristin didn’t know.

  One of those few things being the extent of Susan and John’s relationship. More than husband and wife, more than business partners and coworkers.

  But you can’t exactly confide, even to your closest friends, that you were your husband’s willing slave, and that he was your cherished, beloved Master.

  * * * *

  At least Jack kept his head down and stayed off Susan’s radar for the rest of the day. By the time Susan was ready to leave at seven, Kristin was standing there in the outer office, waiting on her.

  “You need to push back the hours a bit. These twelve-hour days are going to kill you.”

  “If I’m lucky,” Susan muttered as she walked with Kristin toward the side lot where employees parked.

  “Stop it,” Kristin said, turning and making Susan stop. “That isn’t what he’d want and you know it. He loved you. He’d want you to be happy.”

  Susan didn’t want to do this here. She’d perfected a strong fortress of a game face to wear at work, but now the prickle of tears stung her eyes. “I’m not happy and don’t think I ever will be again,” she admitted. “The least I can do is what I do best, and that’s work. Keep this place going in his memory. It was his dream, and he was happy doing this.”

  “Sweetie, promise me you’ll go to your reunion this weekend.”

  “Why?” Late in the afternoon, Susan’s opinion pendulum had swung through the spectrum again, and she’d been considering canceling. At least the lost ticket price wasn’t really a concern for her.

  “Because you need to get out for a while. Get out of your head. Just go. Please?”

  Kristin was fifty-eight and a combination of adopted mother and big sister to Susan. Especially since losing John.

  “Will you get off my case if I go?” Susan side-stepped her friend and continued her trek to her car.

  She followed Susan. “For at least twelve hours, yes. That’s the best deal I’ll offer you.”

  “Okay, fine. I promise I won’t cancel. I can’t promise I’ll have fun, though.”

  “I know. But you never break a promise to me, so I’m glad to know that for the weekend, at least, you’ll be out of your element.”

  Susan drove home in a funk. Mixed feelings swirled through her. If Darryl and Grant and some of her other old friends weren’t there, it would be a long, lonely weekend. Hell, some of her friends, like Rusty McElroy, wouldn’t be there because they’d been older and in different grades ahead of her, even though they’d all hung together and played D and D and other games. Went to the movies. Watched sci-fi and other shows on TV.

  I wonder if any of them still live in the area.

  Yes, she probably could have jumped on Facebook and tried to find them. But she hated using Facebook and rarely went onto the site to check her account, had it locked down tight so people couldn’t find her on it anyway. She wasn’t fond of social media sites, the privacy concerns a pretty big deal for her.

  Which, yes, she recognized it was ironic considering how geeky she’d been in high school. It’d been nerve-wracking enough for her going out to the different local events with John, the chamber of commerce and Rotary and other soirees, where she always wondered if anyone would spot their secret.

  She would have done anything to protect their secret, to protect his reputation so people didn’t think badly about him, even though he’d been far less concerned about it than her.

  She’d trusted John, had been able to relax with his guiding calm and strong patience. She would have followed him anywhere.

  Even into death, although that option had been taken off the table for her by the sealed letter he’d left for her with Ed.

  He left her with a standing order to live, to try to find happiness, that he wanted her to love again, even find another Master if she wanted. Although she knew damned well he’d never intended to die as young as he had.

  Two years. Two long, lonely years.

  Kristin was right. Susan knew she used work as her drug of choice, hoping the stress and poor self-care would have taken her down with a heart attack
by now.

  No such luck.

  When Susan arrived home, she followed her usual routine. She locked herself in, reset the alarm, and stripped in the front foyer. Shoes, pants, panties, blouse, bra. Neatly folding her clothes and putting them on the table there.

  From the table, she picked up her leather collar and buckled it around her neck, followed by the matching leather wrist and ankle cuffs.

  She immediately walked into the living room, where John’s urn sat on a shelf next to the TV, their wedding picture beside it.

  Kneeling, she bowed her head. “This girl belongs to her Master,” she quietly recited. “Mind, soul, body, heart. Until Master decides otherwise. I love you.”

  Slowly breathing through her mental pain, still sharply keen even two years later, she struggled not to cry. Yes, in the letter John had told her she was free to seek out someone else to love, if she felt they were good for her and could take care of her and protect her. Give her happiness.

  The truth was, she didn’t want to. She didn’t have the heart or energy to. It was all she could do to fulfill the final order he’d left for her—to live, to take care of his most precious property as best she could, to protect it, to nurture it.

  Meaning her.

  And she’d done a damn piss-poor job of that, truth be told.

  Kind of difficult when her heart wasn’t anchored in living any longer.

  After one long, final breath, she raised her head and looked at the urn. “When does it get easier, Sir?” she whispered. “When does it stop hurting so damn bad?”

  Chapter Two

  Just another Wednesday night on the field of battle, with the dead and injured lying all around them and choices to be made that could determine whether he lived…or died.

  “So, are you going to sit there all night?” Axel asked Grant. “Or are you going to do something? It’s your initiative.”

  Grant Delaney carefully studied the battle map laid out before them.

  Rusty McElroy stood, an empty hard cider bottle in his hand. “While the stoned druid is making up his mind, I’m getting a refill. Can I get anyone anything?”

  “I’m not stoned. I was stunned for two rounds. Big difference.”

  “Stoned, stunned, same damn thing. You couldn’t do shit for two rounds and now we’re getting slaughtered. Does anyone want anything?”

  Tonight the rotating D and D game was at Rusty and Eliza’s house. After everyone else shook their heads, Rusty headed for the kitchen.

  From across the table, Darryl smirked at him.

  That boy is getting a beating when we get home. And not the fun kind, either.

  Grant consulted his spells list again, trying to gauge how much of his precious magic he had left to use for the day. He was their party’s strongest spellcaster. Then, after another quick scan of his items list, he decided.

  “I use my wand of magic missile on this guy.” He pointed at one of the goblins that had surprised their party in the middle of the night, in a location where there weren’t supposed to be any goblins. Grant rolled to hit, succeeded, then rolled for damage.

  Axel made another roll of his own, then a frowny face as he marked off one of his NPC sheets. “Dammit,” he muttered. “The goblin goes down.” He pulled the figure from the map and drew a stick figure in its place.

  “I withdraw behind this boulder here.” Grant pointed at the one drawn on the battle map before he moved his figure.

  “Finally,” Darryl said with a grin. “My turn?”

  “Yeah,” Axel said.

  Rusty returned with a fresh bottle of hard cider. “What’d he do?”

  “We’re down a goblin,” Darryl said.

  “Finally,” Rusty said as he retook his seat. “We were getting slaughtered.”

  Grant sat back, watching his partner across the table as Darryl took his turn. They’d only been in this game group for about a year, after making contact with their old friend, Rusty, through an accidental encounter at a local BDSM munch group.

  Way back when in high school, they’d all played D and D and other games, even though Rusty had been older than them. Back then, Rusty had usually been their DM. Darryl and Grant had been the same age as Rusty’s younger brother, Corey, which was how they’d gotten into the original group in the first place.

  It’d been them, Corey, Rusty, and a few other friends.

  “So you guys hitting your high school reunion this weekend?” Rusty asked. “Corey said he’s flying in for it.”

  Grant took a sip of his iced tea. “Yeah, we got a room and everything. Don’t know how many other people will show up that we used to hang with, though.”

  “Packing your dice?” Rusty teased.

  “Duh,” Darryl muttered as he moved his character’s figure on the battle map. “What do you think?”

  Grant suspected it’d taken a great feat of will on Darryl’s part not to crack a semi-dirty joke about different, more “adult” kinds of dungeons. While Rusty, Eliza, and Mike Kennedy were kinky, most of the rest of the gaming group either weren’t, or weren’t clued in about their extracurricular activities. While everyone knew Rusty and Eliza were a little…nontraditional, they all went out of their way not to make their more vanilla friends feel uncomfortable.

  Darryl and Grant had missed their ten-year reunion. Grant had been too busy at work, and Darryl wasn’t going to go anyway because he couldn’t afford it. At that time, the only reason Grant would have gone was if Darryl had been planning on going.

  Ever since high school, they’d remained close friends.

  It was only in the past three years since Darryl’s divorce that they’d been far closer than that.

  At ten o’clock, Axel’s phone alarm went off and the sound of the TARDIS wheezing filled the room.

  “That’s it, folks,” he said, silencing the alarm. “I’m turning into a pumpkin. We’re still in initiative next week, so plan your moves. Let’s see if we can get more than three rounds in.”

  Once pictures of the battle map had been taken and all the figures safely stowed, everyone packed up and prepared to leave. Grant and Darryl hung back with Mike as the others left.

  “Corey and Marcy aren’t leaving until Monday morning,” Rusty said to Darryl and Grant. “You guys want to have dinner with us Sunday night?”

  Grant and Darryl exchanged a look. “Ask him,” Darryl said. “He’s the boss.”

  Eliza giggled and smacked Rusty’s shoulder. “See? That’s what I mean, barbarian.”

  He stuck his tongue out at his wife. “No one asked you, Ma’am.”

  Faster than any chaotic neutral rogue, her hand shot out and she snagged her husband’s earlobe, dragging him down to her eye level. “What was that?”

  “Nothing, Ma’am,” Rusty mumbled.

  “That’s better.” She let go of him. “We’ll miss you at Sigalo’s on Saturday.”

  “Jenny and I will be there,” Mike said. “She wants to go to the club Saturday night.”

  “Oh, cool beans,” Eliza said. “We’ll make sure we pack for it. Tilly’s over in England for another couple of weeks, so we were going to drop out.”

  “We’ll definitely go to the club next Saturday,” Grant said, reaching out and cupping the back of Darryl’s neck. Like this, alone with trusted friends, they could truly be themselves without worrying about who saw them. “And maybe even make the munch next Sunday.”

  “I can’t,” Darryl said. “I have to play at that children’s concert at the church that Sunday evening. Paying gig.”

  “Oh, I forgot.” Grant looked at their friends. “I guess I’ll be going stag to the munch and getting take-out for him.”

  Even though it was summer, Darryl still worked for the church as its music director and head pianist, and for its school, helping run its summer program and music camps. His work load would amp up come the start of school year, but at least then their backup pianist would handle some of the Sunday services, giving Darryl much-needed time off on the weekends.r />
  Eliza crossed her arms. “Remind me again how an atheist ends up playing piano and teaching music for a church school?”

  “Because I was broke and getting divorced and needed the steady money,” he said. “Teaching piano privately only goes so far toward paying the bills and the child support. Believe me, I wish I could have gotten a job with the county school system. I’m still keeping a watchful eye for any positions that open up, but they keep slashing their budgets for the arts.”

  Grant pulled Darryl closer, sliding an arm around his waist. “You’re a good dad. Don’t let Chelsey ever tell you otherwise.”

  “Yeah, well, as much as I love Kyle, I’m beginning to wish I’d never met his mother.”

  Grant hugged him a little more tightly. “Seems like I tried to warn you at the time.”

  “Yeah, I know.” He rested his head on Grant’s shoulder. “I just didn’t know then what I know now.”

  Eliza snapped her fingers. “Oh! We could send Tilly and June over to talk to her!”

  “No,” Darryl, Grant, Rusty, and Mike all said together.

  Eliza pouted. “Why not?”

  “I want Chelsey to play fair,” Darryl said, “not get chopped into bait and disposed of. She’s my son’s mother. A little over five years, and then I’m free of her.”

  “Maybe sooner,” Grant muttered.

  Darryl sighed. “He’s just mad at his mom right now. It’s still over a year before he can petition the court to change custodial parents.” He looked at Grant. “He could change his mind a thousand times between now and then. And you don’t think that would be a logistics nightmare if he did move in with us?”

  “We’d tell him the truth, that we’re partners.”

  “And then he’d tell his mom, who’d tell my job out of spite, who’d fire me, which would then mean that I couldn’t pay the bills, which would mean she’d drag me back into court to get full custody, and then I’d have to pay more child support. We can’t live on your income alone and me paying child support, too. Hell, I can barely make ends meet now as it is with what I owe. If it wasn’t for living with you and you supporting my ass…” He stared at the floor and didn’t continue.