He’d ended up helping them after all.
Anne hoped his mother had known how wonderfully she’d succeeded in her task—she’d raised an exceptional man.
At the end of the meal, Anne rose. “Excuse me, please. I need to visit the ladies’ room before I head home.”
Ben turned, located the restrooms, studied the intervening tables, and apparently decided no zombies or madmen would leap up and attack her. “All right.”
She shook her head in amusement. Her father and brothers possessed that same instinct to protect. So did she. It was difficult to be offended.
Still…
With her fingernails, she pinched his neck in warning and murmured, “So good of you to give me permission.”
He met her gaze and grinned unrepentantly.
Oh honestly. He wasn’t a brat. Exactly. In the bedroom, he was superbly obedient. But the rest of the time? Not so much.
Unsettled, she walked to the restroom.
In all reality, he wasn’t deliberately defiant. He simply didn’t look to her for instruction or permission. While her other slaves had wanted her oversight, her direction, she was beginning to see that Ben…didn’t.
But if that were true… Her chest felt as if she’d strapped on her body armor too tightly, restricting her lungs. With an effort, she pushed away her growing anxiety. Not the time. Not the place.
A few minutes later, while Anne was combing her hair, Camille entered. Instead of using the facilities, she leaned a hip on the wall. “I’m glad I caught you alone. I wanted to apologize for Sheena and Deanna. And to thank you.”
“Thank me for what?”
“Growing up in the South Bronx wasn’t easy. Ben tried to take care of us all, but he had no one watching out for him. Not since he was nine. Not until now.” Camille scowled. “I just wish you hadn’t had to protect him from his own sister.”
“Deanna might have blundered onto a wrong path, but Ben won’t be misled again,” Anne said. “I can see she has a lot going for her, and once she realizes her future is up to her, I think she’ll do fine. And probably be happier for it.”
“I think you’re right. And as for Sheena”—Camille rolled her eyes—“honestly, who does stuff like that? But Ben sure does attract some winners. Either money-grubbers latch onto him or he finds himself these obnoxious women who act as if they’re too good for him.”
Not unusual. Submissives searching for dominant partners could easily end up with control freaks. In Ben’s case, he wound up with bitches.
Camille moved away and paused at the door to say, “I’m really glad he found you.”
“Me, too.”
At least I’m not a bitch. Hopefully. And she loved him with all her heart.
But was she good for him?
Sometimes he seemed totally content with what they had together. But sometimes she wasn’t sure he really was happy, even though he said he was. Even though he insisted being her slave was what he wanted.
Was she not meeting some of his needs in return? Was he sharing everything with her?
She bit her lip. If she had to, she’d go the intrusive route and plan a scene that would have him spilling every little secret he had. Or she could make him write a journal.
But, this was Ben… She didn’t want to trespass all over his privacy.
So, maybe next weekend, after their scene, during the aftercare and the warm glow, she’d press him to share. It was their special time. Surely then, she’d find out what was wrong.
Chapter Twenty
Anne slowly drove down a street of squalid apartment buildings.
The Tomorrow Is Mine manager hadn’t wanted Anne to go after the woman, but when told the police would provide an escort to the shelter, Sue Ellen had panicked.
The thought of the police sometimes had that effect. Involving law enforcement meant the abuser would probably be arrested. Some women couldn’t face that—they just wanted to run.
If Sue Ellen became too frightened, she might abandon her escape. So Anne would go get her. Unfortunately, the woman sounded pretty injured. Carrying her infant son, she wouldn’t be able to walk very far.
Damn men.
Anne spotted the small 24-hour market chosen for the meeting place. Had Sue Ellen made it?
Yes, there was a woman leaning against a wall as if she’d fall if she didn’t have the support. A baby was in her arms.
Any threats? Anne did a quick, but thorough, scan of the sidewalk and street. Two women chatted by a car. A teenager rolled by on a skateboard.
Good enough.
Anne parked and left the Escape running as she approached the woman slowly. “Are you Sue Ellen?”
The woman’s eyes went wide as a startled rabbit. “I—” Her mouth closed as her paranoia bloomed.