Deep in the Woods Read Free Page A

died.” He scowled at M. “No one would have asked to be treated like that. So calling her a bitch—”
    “She was a bitch. She made trouble for a lot of people—”
    “I cried,” said Veronica. “I felt so guilty.”
    “Exactly.” Madame M frowned. “We all felt guilty, but it was none of our faults. And when she failed again and again to report him, she endangered every other submissive in Atlanta, because he didn’t go away. He hasn’t gone away. She never did bring any charges against him, although as far as I know, he’s gone to ground. He couldn’t come anywhere near any munch or club in Atlanta without getting beaten to a bloody pulp, that’s for sure.”
    Dave thought that sounded like a good time, beating to a bloody pulp a man who had put Sophie in the hospital. A man who had done it in the name of BDSM. A “sadist”. That’s probably what this “Depraved” imagined himself. A kinky sadist, just like Dave, only he hadn’t known when to stop. He remembered how Jerry, a “daddy dom”-type player, had scowled at him as he’d chatted Sophie up. Jerry had probably thought, Oh, no, she can’t fall into the hands of another sadist. Not on my watch. But there were sadists, and then there were sociopaths.
    “So why do you think she came back?” Dave asked.
    “Lonely, maybe?” offered Veronica.
    “God, I can’t imagine why she would show her face here,” said M with a snort. “You saw the reception she got. Just needs more attention, I suppose.”
    Well, she had gotten Dave’s attention. She definitely had his attention now.

Chapter Two
     
    Sophie moved to the side in the hallway to let her neighbor pass. He lived right across from her, but she didn’t think he even knew who she was. She recognized him. When she was sure he was gone, she dug in her purse for her keys and let herself into her small apartment. She was so suspicious of everyone now. She thought she might have post-traumatic stress disorder after all. Or some other complicated syndrome that her parent-appointed therapist explained to her while she zoned out on the leather couch. Damn, she thought she probably had a session next week. If she didn’t go, her dad would come bother her. Maybe she could pretend she had work.
    She dropped her bag and collapsed on the sofa. She felt like shit. What was wrong with her? Why had she gone to the munch? They all judged her and made her feel even worse than she felt when she was alone.
    Maybe she had just wanted to show them. Show them that she had survived, and that she had every right to be there, as much right as they had. They were, after all, her people. If she belonged anywhere, she belonged among them. Maybe she had made things complicated for the group for a while. But they were just like her, exactly like her, deep inside. They liked power exchange, and most of them liked sadomasochism too. Hell, half of them liked it harder than she did. Who were they to judge?
    She stood up and went to the mirror. She was still Sophie. She had gone into the woods for a while, but she’d come back out again. She’d survived. The scars she had were mostly hidden when she had her clothes on. She wasn’t going to take her clothes off, not ever again.
    Well, maybe if she found the right person. But it would have to be a really special person. Someone she could really trust. Someone safe.
    Safe. Her mind wandered again to the man who’d sat beside her at the munch. She hadn’t seen him before, not since she met Barry and ended up out of the group. If she’d seen him she would have remembered. Dave. He had such a masculine, sculpted face, a tan healthiness and fitness that was instantly attractive. His sensual lips and mouth made her have thoughts about him, and he had the most beautiful hazel eyes. But what did that mean? That didn’t mean he was safer or more trustworthy than anyone else. But he’d also had lovely, soft-looking, chestnut-brown hair she wanted to run her fingers through, and