It'll Be An Adventure (Masters of the Shadowlands #15)(60)
Author: Cherise Sinclair

 

“You turned into a hermit,” Saxon muttered.

 

“Pretty much. But I’m out of my shell now.” Mostly.

 

“You’re quite resilient, Murphy.” Master Z studied her. “What can I do to make up for the Shadowlands failing you?”

 

Oh, he was stubborn. “Master Z, it wasn’t your fault. I’m fine.”

 

His lips curved in a faint smile. “Indeed. Then we shall do this. Your three-day pass is now a permanent free membership.”

 

“Oh.” Surprise gave way to a stream of happiness. Because okay, she really wanted to come back. “Thank you.”

 

Master Z straightened. “I do want you to have more counseling. You can come to me, or I can provide a list of counselors who are experienced with both abuse and BDSM. The Shadowlands will cover the fee for any counseling, now or at any time in the future.”

 

“The future…?”

 

“Transitions in life can open old wounds. If that happens, I want to know you’ll get the help you need.”

 

She frowned. “You said… ‘come to me’. What do you do for a living?”

 

“He’s a psychologist, sweetling.”

 

When she started giggling, Saxon tugged on her hair. “What did you think he does?”

 

“I th-thought he was a gynecologist.”

 

Face hot, Murphy returned to the lanai escorted by two Masters…who hadn’t stopped laughing.

 

 

 

 

 

A while later, with Saxon beside her, Murphy took a slow breath, relieved at having a moment’s break. When they’d returned, Jessica and the rest of the Shadowkittens had surrounded her, their gentle hugs and pats full of comfort. Saying without words that she was one of them.

 

She’d managed not to cry. Barely.

 

“Murphy.” Accompanied by Anne, Ben walked over, expression worried. “Sorry about outing you. But, hey, really, it’s for the best.”

 

Rolling her eyes, Anne reached way up to smack the back of his head. “Talk about a half-assed apology.”

 

“Yeah, but honest.” He didn’t seem all that worried about upsetting the Mistress.

 

Anne fixed Murphy with a stern look. “He’s right though. This is something we needed to know. Your Dom especially.”

 

Murphy blinked. He’s not my… But the two had moved away before she could think of any response.

 

“Doing okay?” Saxon slung an arm over her shoulders—and thankfully didn’t address the “my Dom” statement.

 

“I’m good.” Kind of.

 

Not really.

 

His eyes narrowed. “You’re full of bullshit.”

 

Before he could say more, Master Sam and his redheaded woman approached.

 

Murphy stiffened, remembering what Master Z had said about them.

 

Before she could think of what to say, the redhead tackled it head on. “Hey, there. I’m Linda. I know we haven’t met yet. Unfortunately, we have Aaron in common.”

 

“Yes.” Murphy dug deep and found a smidgeon of strength. “Master Z said Aaron used you as a hostage.”

 

The way Linda’s face paled made her freckles stand out. But her brown eyes were very direct. “He tried.” She patted the silver-haired, leather-faced Dom beside her. Her low voice deepened. “Unfortunately for him, someone was carrying his whip.”

 

Although Master Sam didn’t smile, humor lit his icy blue eyes. “It’s always a pleasure to give karma a helping hand.”

 

Karma. Yes, that was the perfect way of looking at what had happened to Aaron. Murphy tilted her chin up. “Master Sam. Thank you. For catching him.”

 

The Dom’s hard face softened. “Missy, it—”

 

“I know it wasn’t for me, but”—she leaned against Saxon, using his strength so she could finish—“it helped me a l-lot. That he was behind bars. And even more when he died. So th-thank you.”

 

Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

 

He lifted his chin in acknowledgment. Through her tears, she saw the Doms exchange looks, then Master Sam pulled her into his arms. He was all hard muscle against her, but his embrace was so very gentle.

 

The tears that’d been clogging her throat came loose.

 

Several sobs escaped before she got control. When she’d been quiet for a moment, he squeezed her and moved her back.

 

Before she could feel bereft, Saxon wrapped his arms around her and enfolded her in warmth and safety.

 

Burying her face against his neck, she breathed in his pine and leather scent. He was holding her so tightly she could feel the slow rise and fall of his chest.

 

A few more tears slid down her cheek. Here, right here—this place of comfort was what she’d always longed for.

 

Okay, okay. Get a grip, Murph. She pulled in a fortifying breath, and when she straightened, he let go.

 

But as she turned to face Sam and Linda, Saxon crossed his arm over her belly and drew her back against him.

 

So protective.

 

So wonderful.

 

“Hold on, Murphy,” Linda said. She used Sam’s forearm like a table as she scribbled something on a piece of paper, then handed the note to Murphy. “My phone number. If you want to talk, call me.” Her gentle smile was like getting a hug. “I’d like to hear from you.”

 

Linda had been terrorized by Aaron too. “Yes. Yes, I’d like that.”

 

“You got that covered, good.” Master Sam had a voice that sounded as if he drank drain cleaner rather than water. Crossing his arms over his chest, he eyed Murphy. “And, little miss, if someone scares you or you need help, call me—or any of the Masters.”

 

When Saxon cleared his throat, Sam snorted. “Fine. Call him first, then one of us.”

 

“That’ll work.” Saxon gave her a squeeze and kissed the top of her head. “The operative word, sweetling, is call.”

 

Murphy pressed her lips together. Don’t cry. “Yes, Sir. Sirs.”

 

“Excuse us, you two.” Saxon led her over to an empty, quiet corner. After wiping the dampness from her cheeks, he held her for a while. How could rock-hard arms and a solidly muscular body feel so soothing?