Beneath the Scars (Masters of the Shadowlands #13)(19)

“You stay here as long as you need.” Josie patted her hand and noticed a new customer had walked up to the bar. What crummy timing.

Stewing over her inability to help, Josie crossed the bar space. The arrival was older with silver hair and a leathery tan. Rather than flashy or black BDSM clothes, he wore jeans and a button-up shirt the pale blue color of his eyes.

Josie tried to smile. “Hi. What would you like?”

He studied her for a second. “I’d like to know why you look like someone ran over your puppy.”

“I…” Josie’s gaze dropped. Spotting a looped black whip attached to his belt, she stiffened. The last guy she’d seen wearing a whip had been called a sadist. Did all the sadists wear their…tools…like this?

He sure wasn’t someone she’d ask for help for sad little Natalia.

“I’m waiting, girl,” he growled. “Look at me.”

A shiver ran up her spine at the command, but as she lifted her gaze, she saw the golden armband half-hidden by his loose shirt. “Ah.” She stared at the whip and blurted out, “If someone needed your help, you wouldn’t hurt her, right?”

Hard lips curved. “Not unless that was what she needed and wanted. You need help, missy?”

“Not me.” Josie glanced over her shoulder at Natalia, and the Master followed her gaze. “She said she had something called subdrop?”

“That’s the word. That one’d best have a female, though.” He looked around and then pointed toward the middle of the room. “That Mistress there with the gold armband. You go tell Olivia that Sam wants her to help your li’l subbie there. Got it?”

“But…” Josie glanced around the bar.

“If someone needs a drink, I’ll get it for them.”

Right. On first sight, the guy looked like a rancher. A second look made him out to be someone extremely scary. She pulled up her own courage. “Okay, but don’t scare my customers.”

He barked a laugh and lifted the pass-through for her. “Half of them are here because they like being scared.”

She ducked through, muttering, “Nonetheless…”

Mistress Olivia was on the stocky side. A sleeveless snug leather jacket showed off her muscular shoulders. Black latex leggings were partially covered by thigh-high lace-up boots. Her caramel-colored hair was as short as Josie’s and worn in aggressive spikes. She wasn’t…quite…as scary as Master Sam.

As Josie approached, Olivia stopped to talk to Uzuri and a redhead with silvering hair at the temples.

Uzuri saw Josie and grinned. “Girl, I was coming over to give you some support.”

“I never turn that down.” Josie turned to Olivia and hesitated. “I hate to interrupt. Sam—Master Sam—asked for your help with a…a subbie.”

“Did he, now?” Olivia had a British accent and an unreadable face. “Why would that be?”

“There’s a woman at the bar, Natalia, and she’s got…she called it subdrop, and she’s crying and that just…” Josie felt her anger rising again. “It’s just not right that whoever she played with left her all alone when she’s feeling so sad.”

“Quite right.” Olivia patted Josie’s shoulder. “I got this, love.”

As she stalked toward the bar like a force of nature, Josie stared after her, then looked at Uzuri. “I’m not sure whether I should be relieved or run ahead and warn Natalia to flee.”

“Mistress Olivia can be scary—although nothing like Mistress Anne—but she’s really nice under it all. She’ll take good care of Natalia.” Uzuri motioned toward the redhead. “Josie, have you met Linda? Linda, this is Josie, our new bartender.”

Linda smiled. “Lovely to meet you, Josie.”

“It’s good to meet you.” Josie glanced behind her at the bar. I left a sadist tending bar. Bad Josie. “I better get back.”

“We’ll come with you.” Uzuri turned to a sitting area where some Doms were talking. Alastair’s gaze was on Uzuri, and when she gestured toward the bar, he nodded.

“Did you just get permission?” Josie asked in disbelief.

As Linda chuckled, Uzuri headed them toward the bar. “Oh, yes. Running around here without permission isn’t healthy.”

Josie shook her head, then frowned. She’d already noticed submissives wore less clothing than the Dominants. Uzuri and Linda were also barefoot as well. Looking around, she spotted only one submissive with shoes, and her fancy stilettos were so high it was a wonder she could walk. “I see the lower classes lack footwear. Is that so you can’t escape outside?”

Linda linked her arm with Josie’s and told Uzuri, “She’s so irreverent I can see why you’re friends.” She smiled at Josie. “The grand poohbah, Master Z, has ruled that submissives go barefoot unless they’re wearing extremely sexy footwear. The security guard gets to decide.”

“I used to wonder if anyone offered Ben sexual favors to get his permission to wear their shoes,” Uzuri commented. “But he’s incorruptible.”

“Ben is the big one, right?”

Linda nodded. “That’s him. Uzuri, after his baby is born, you could try bribing him with an offer to babysit.” She opened her left hand. “Honor.” She opened her right hand. “Crying infant.” Her hands went up and down, imitating a set of scales. “Honor loses every time.”