Broken Submission

Abandoned

Pain shot through her foot, and Amelia heard a soft curse. Blinking, she tried to focus on her surroundings. Derek was trying to unlock the apartment door with her in his arms, having just accidentally slammed her foot into the doorframe. She wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted her legs to give him better access.

"Amelia!" He left the keys in the door, craning his neck to look at her face. He looked so worried. "Are you okay? I was considering whether I shouldn't take you to a hospital—"

"No, I'm sorry," she said. "I'm okay."

He frowned but said nothing. Yet. She recognized the determination in his eyes. He pushed open the door and set her on the couch. He left and went into the bathroom, leaving her confused. When he emerged, he held the first aid kit, and she scanned him for injuries. She didn't see anything. But then he sat beside her and took her hand in his. He raised it, and she saw the deep, welted crescent-moon cuts on her palms.

"Oh," she murmured.

His lips tightened. "Oh." He cleaned the cuts with an antiseptic wipe, and she winced, palms stinging. He finished bandaging them and then took her chin in a firm grip.

"What happened in there?" His grip tightened. "Did someone hurt you?"

"No!" she said. "No, sir, nothing happened."

He glared at her. "Nothing happened? I found you outside, in lingerie, at night, bleeding, and totally unaware of what was going on around you. And you're going to tell me that nothing happened. I don't appreciate being lied to."

She tried to duck her head, but his grip on her chin restrained her. "I'm sorry," she whispered. She tried to hold back the tears stinging her eyes. "I—I can't."

Disappointment and anger warred in his expression. "That's unacceptable."

She closed her eyes, her only escape from the crushing weight of his disappointment.

His voice was hard as he said, "I can't force you to communicate. But I had thought that we were past this. If you refuse to talk to me, then I have no choice but to proceed with punishment for your flagrant disrespect. Leaving without asking permission, putting yourself in danger, and being uncooperative, among other things."

He pulled her over his knee, and she lost her private battle, the first tear dripping down her cheek. His hand came down on her backside with brutal force, the punishment lacking any of the arousal that usually accompanied it. His disappointment curdled her gut, and she let out a sob before the fifth slap even landed. He said nothing through. At twenty, he stopped. Her bottom throbbed, and she was sobbing and limp over his knee.

Derek hated the sound of her unhappiness. But he was at a loss for what else to do. Until she was willing to open up to him, he could only continue to reinforce the structure that she needed. It wasn't always pleasant, but it was necessary. He sighed wearily as he tugged her off his lap.

"Go take a shower and get ready for bed," he told her.

She nodded, sobbing harder, and left. When he heard the water running, he dropped his head into his hands. Tonight had been a disaster. And he didn't even know where it had gone wrong. If only he'd never left her alone. He frowned as he had the thought. He'd assumed that something had happened after she had left to go to the bathroom, maybe an overly aggressive dom, or just someone who'd gotten into her personal space.

But what if it had been something that had happened while she was with the other subs. He made a mental note to have a conversation with them. He'd been too worried at the time to notice, but looking back, there had been something shifty about their demeanors when he'd first questioned them. He loosed another sigh as he stood and made his way to the bedroom. He stripped and climbed between the sheets.

When Amelia entered, she was quiet. She slipped into one of his t-shirts and crawled in beside him. When he reached over and tugged her to his chest, he felt the silent sob that shuddered through her. But neither of them said anything.

The next morning, Amelia woke up alone. There was a note on her side table saying that he had been called into work. Which could have been true, but then, he was often called in when it wasn't necessary. In those instances, he told them how to fix the problem and left them to their own devices.

It was for the best. It would make what she was about to do easier. By the time she had gathered all her things, she was struggling to hold in her tears again. It was for the best.

She left her key on the counter and walked out the door. She could barely see past the tears in her eyes as she pulled her car out of the parking lot and onto the road. For the next two hours, she drove, listening to Siri direct her to her new life.

Derek ran a hand over his face and glanced at the clock. It had been childish to leave her this morning. He'd woken up frustrated, and he didn't want to get into a fight. Or, their version of a fight which consisted of him getting angry and her shutting down. But he wasn't getting any work done here.

"Screw it," he muttered. He stopped by the grocery store on his way home and picked up one of the lemon bundt cakes that she loved.

But when he walked through the door, he knew immediately that something was wrong. Her things were missing. Her coat and shoes had been left at the Club, but the book she'd been reading was no longer on the side table. Her favorite throw blanket wasn't hanging off the back of the chair. His gaze landed on the counter where her key lay, weighing down a note.

His chest felt like it was made of stone, each breath like lifting a concrete slab off his ribs. The note was brief.

It's for the best. I'm sorry.

He dropped the cake of the counter. He planted his palms on the granite, knees feeling weak. She'd left him. She was gone.

"Oh god," he whispered. His knees gave out, and he dropped to the floor. Why? They'd fought last night, but then she'd let him hold her in bed. He'd thought they were okay.

His phone buzzed in his jacket pocket, and he stared blankly at it before he pulled it out. The caller ID said Jack.

He raised it to his ear. "What."

"Whoa, Derek are you alright? You sound like you just got hit by a train."

He closed his eyes. "She left me."

"Amelia? Fuck, man." The line went quiet. "What happened? Last night, you two were all over each other. Not in a crazy way, but I thought it was something real, something deep."

"So did I." Derek stared blankly at the wall, back against the counter. "And I have no fucking idea what happened. Last night I found her on the steps of the employee entrance, looking like she'd just had a panic attack. Totally out of it. Then, she refused to give me a reason why."

"Damn." There was a pause. "Look, Derek, my boy was bartending last night. Let me ask him if he saw anything."

"You found a sub?" Derek asked in surprise.

He could practically hear the grin on the other end of the line. "Yeah, we weren't kidding when we said that you've been out of the loop. Damien and I have been a thing for over a week now. No contract."

"Wow." Derek wished he could summon a more enthusiastic response for his friend, but his world had just collapsed.

"Sorry," the man apologized, "you're in no place to appreciate my happiness. I'll touch base with him and get back to you. In the meantime, don't do anything crazy alright? You've got friends, we'll figure this out."

"Thanks Jack." He hung up the phone and let it dangle limply from his fingers. What was he going to do now?

*Whispering* Don't forget to pat that little vote button