Chapter Twelve

Lacey had just placed all the trimmings for a salad on the table when Candice emerged from the bathroom dressed in baggy flannel pants and a camisole. Her hair was loose and her face was free of makeup but otherwise she appeared fine. Although she wasn’t as put together as Lacey was used to, she seemed far more composed and in control, which was a step in the right direction.

“Feel better?”

“Loads.”

They sat at the same time and started piling their plates with lettuce, tomatoes, cheese and dressing. As they ate in silence, Lacey combed her brain for a way to pry for answers without pushing her friend too far. Just when she cleared her throat to start, Candice beat her to it.

“Do you remember when we were in college and I started taking a class across town?”

“The one for investigative reporting?” When Candice nodded, Lacey answered, “I remember.

You were gone every weekend for six months. I was afraid you’d run off to join a reporter cult or something.”

“Or something.”

Lacey placed her fork on the table and studied the woman, who was obviously at the end of her rope. Candice was picking at her salad, shifting the lettuce from side to side, shaking her head.

“Talk to me.”

Candice took a deep breath and placed her own utensil on the plate. “I lied to you.”

She didn’t say anything, giving her friend time to come clean on her own. Candice reached for her glass of sweet tea, took a long swallow and sat it on the table before she started again.

“A couple of months after all that shit happened with Jason, I was approached by a student in the library. She didn’t say much. She just walked up to my table, placed a card in front of me and said that she’d heard about what happened. I was still resentful, so of course I told her to mind her own fucking business. She didn’t seem fazed. Instead she remained completely calm and told me if I wanted to make sure I was never a victim again, I would call the number she’d given me. Then she walked away.”

“What was on the card?”

Candice shrugged. “A phone number. I mulled over it for about a week before I caved in and called. I was too curious not to. The person who answered was also vague and told me to take down an address. Before she ended the call she invited me to visit the address and warned me it was a one-time deal.”

“Did you go?”

“Yes.”

“Let me make sure I understand you correctly. You went to an unknown address, to meet people you didn’t know, and you had no idea what they wanted.”

Candice nodded and took another sip of her tea. “Looking back, it was a stupid thing to do. But I’m glad I did it, because it allowed me to take back my life.”

“I don’t understand,” Lacey said slowly.

“When I arrived, I discovered the address was nothing more than an abandoned warehouse.

Parked right in front was a limousine, and standing beside the rear door was the girl from the library.

She told me the person I wanted to talk to was inside the car so I walked over, slid inside and came face-to-face with a woman. She was in her thirties, well-dressed, and would have been stunning if it hadn’t been for the scar from her temple to her lip. She told me she knew what occurred on campus and offered me an opportunity to reclaim what I’d lost. When I told her that was impossible she assured me that not only was it possible, but if I was willing to listen and observe I could learn something that could change my life.”

“What did you do?”

“I agreed.”

“You agreed?”

Candice sighed and placed her glass on the table. “You have to understand something. After everything that happened I was a total wreck. There was no adequate way to describe what I was feeling. I couldn’t talk to anyone about it, not entirely.” She looked up and met Lacey’s confused stare.

“Not even you.”

The honesty hurt, preventing Lacey from responding. Ever since she and Candice had met, at the first student assembly, they’d shared everything with each other.

Or so she’d thought.

“It’s not about you, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s about something you couldn’t understand, and it’s something I wouldn’t want you to understand.”

She managed to keep her voice neutral. “Then try explaining it to me.”

“I was introduced to other women who had been used, hurt or taken advantage of by men.

They shared their stories, asked about mine and allowed me to realize that I never had to be placed in that position again.”

“So it was a support group?”

Candice seemed extremely nervous and uncomfortable. “Not exactly.”

“Then what was it?”

Candice looked Lacey in the eye again, as if steeling herself not to look away when she answered. “They were all Dommes. Female dominants.”

“Say what?”

“You heard me.”

Yes, she had, but her mind didn’t want to accept it. Female dominants. Dommes.

Holy shit.

She gazed from side to side, unable to come up with anything to say. Her best friend, a woman she had known for years, was involved with Dommes.

Unbelievable.

Reading her as she was so prone to, Candice said, “Say something.”

“I’m thinking.”

“Think harder.”

Lacey laughed. “I’m drawing a blank.”

“That’s obvious.”

“So you’re a Domme?”

“Does that surprise you?”

Hell yes, it surprised her. But when Lacey really thought about it, the revelation made sense.

Candice was always in control— always. With her job, she was the boss. She decided what stories she would or wouldn’t take, and she didn’t like to be told what to do.

“It’s unexpected but not shocking.” Lacey recalled how knowledgeable Candice was when it came to Michael’s sexual activities. “I suppose I should have seen it before now.”

“I didn’t want you to.” Candice gave a weak smile when she saw Lacey’s hurt expression.

“What I do behind closed doors isn’t anyone’s business, no offense.”

“You could have trusted me. I would have understood.”

“Is that so? Because I’m not all that sure. You understand now because you’re in a relationship with a Dom. Before Mike, I don’t know if you would have approached it in the same way.”

She wanted to argue but didn’t dare. Candice could be right or wrong. Lacey had always considered herself an open-minded person but then again, she’d also run from Michael like he was an incarnation of the devil the minute she learned about his sexual preferences. It had taken time for her to grasp the implications of D/s play, both in and out of the bedroom, and it was something she was still attempting to fully comprehend.

“So…” Lacey couldn’t believe she was about to have this kind of conversation with Candice.

Talk about growing up and expanding your horizons. Once they’d gushed over John Hughes films. It figured their innocent lusts would blossom to Doms, Dommes and all things fetish. “Do you go to clubs?”

“Look at you, blushing and excited,” Candice snickered. “No wonder Mike was a goner.” She reached for her glass. “I go to a club in Atlanta when the mood strikes. That’s why I needed an invitation to Fantasia. I never mix my personal life with pleasure, so it’s necessary to travel to a location where no one knows me or asks questions. Besides, most of the time I’m too busy working to find time to play.”

“That’s all it is for you? Work and play?”

“I don’t want a serious relationship, Lace.” Candice wasn’t smiling anymore. “After college I made the decision to keep all of my romantic involvements strictly sexual. I have a job I enjoy, a home I’m proud of and I don’t feel the need to add anything else to it.”

“Doesn’t that get, you know… lonely?”

“I’m sure it might be to some people. It works just fine for me.”

“So the cop who came to your apartment,” Lacey noticed now it was Candice who appeared uncomfortable, “was he strictly a sexual partner? Because he didn’t look like he was into casual.”

“He was something that never should have happened.”

“Why not?”

Candice planted her glass on the table, causing tea to slosh over the top. “I was on the job. I never should have let anyone or anything distract me. He just happened to rescue me from a needy sub who was drawing unwanted attention, and I took advantage of the situation. In retrospect, it was sloppy and foolish on my part.”

“What are you going to do?”

“About?”

“Tall, dark and handsome officer.”

“He knows I’m not interested.”

“You told him?”

“I did.” Candice rose from the table and collected her plate. “He wasn’t happy about it but he’ll adjust.”

It was probably stupid to ask but it was obvious Candy wasn’t telling her everything. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Will you adjust?”

Candice turned. The sadness in her eyes was almost as heartbreaking as her resolve. “I adjusted a long time ago, Lace. This is who I am.”

Lacey remained seated as her friend walked into the kitchen. It had been years since she’d seen Candy express any interest in a man, much less lose her cool over one, and Candice Bradshaw was definitely not her usual self when it came to Brady Stone.

No matter how much she might deny it.

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