The sound of Kevin tiptoeing around the bedroom stirred me awake. I squinted my swollen eyes to see him bent over his chest of drawers, opening the top one slowly and carefully as to not make a sound. If it hadn't been for his creaking floors, I wouldn't have noticed him at all.

"What time is it?" I asked, my voice slightly hoarse from yesterday's crying.

He jumped so noticeably, a smile tugged at my lips.

"Holy shit, girly. You almost gave me a heart attack," Kevin said as he held his hand on his chest, trying to calm down. "It's half past nine."

Mentally counting, I realized I must've slept for a little over sixteen hours. No wonder my head felt so heavy, and my mind was all mushy. This was what happened when you cry yourself into exhaustion.

"I was just about to make us some breakfast. You must be hungry." His hair was damp, and only now did I noticed he was practically naked, with only a towel around his hips.

"Mmm, can we have your pancakes?" I tried and failed to not think about the first morning I'd spent with Callan. We had pancakes then too. I closed my eyes at the memory and could already feel the sadness washing over me.

Too much had happened yesterday, and I didn't know how I would be able to work through it all. At the moment, my feelings were too chaotic and I wasn't in my right headspace. But still, I needed to figure out what to do. I worked best with a plan.

"Whatever you want. Only the best for you." He winked, a soft smile was on his lips.

"I'll...eh...give you some privacy." I nodded at the clothes he was gathering in his hands and got out of his glorious bed. My body didn't want to leave it, already missing the comfort it had provided me.

Shuffling out of the room, I went right to his couch and laid back down. Even after this much sleep–or because of this much sleep–my energy was depleted.

Kevin got out of the room a minute later and walked straight to the kitchen.

His apartment was small but still bigger than mine. The living room had honestly looked like shit the first time I'd visited before he got permission from his landlord to repaint the walls. It had been this white-yellowish color, but now three of the walls in the living room were rust-brown, and the remaining wall was creamy white. With several potted plants, he'd managed to make it feel warm and homey. His furniture was a mix between modern and rustic, and I loved how he'd combined those two.

"You're not working today?" If he had been, he wouldn't be here now.

"I'm still sick," he answered as he rummaged in his cupboards. I somehow knew he was lying. He didn't sound nasal when he talked, and he looked otherwise healthy enough.

"You could've gone to work, Kevin. I don't need a babysitter," I said softly.

He turned around to give me all of his attention. "I'm not babysitting you. I'm taking care of you. There's a difference." What had I done to deserve a friend like him? "Besides, I had a shift with Oliver today. You simply gave me an excuse to avoid him." He smiled, letting me know he was only joking.

"You're such a good friend," I said because I needed him to know that. "I'm a lucky girl to have you."

"Stop it. You're going to make me blush." He was already blushing. Kevin didn't handle compliments well, but that never stopped me from giving them to him–hell, it just made me want to compliment him more. He deserved all the praise, and I would continue until he was used to it.

It wasn't until we sat down for breakfast when he finally asked what he'd probably been wondering ever since I cried to him over the phone.

"So, are you ever going to tell me what happened?"

I knew if I said to him I didn't want to talk about it, he would back off, but...maybe voicing everything might help ease the pain that was constantly throbbing inside my chest.

Over the next several minutes, I recounted everything that had happened. I told him about Mateo's class and later when I showed up at the club. I explained how I found out that not only did Callan and Gideon know, but that they'd also hired a PI to find me.

With each word I spoke, Kevin grew angrier while I grew calmer. It felt like I was disconnecting myself from yesterday as if it was too much for my mind to handle.

"Those fucking assholes!" he growled when I'd finished telling him everything. "I can't believe they would do something like that. I thought BDSM was all about trust?"

"Yeah...me too."

That was the heart of it, wasn't it? I was supposed to trust them with my body and mind, and instead, they gave me lies. Lying by omission was still lying. And worse, they'd gone behind my back, played the strings, and made me dance to their fucking tune–all the while not knowing what they'd done behind closed doors to orchestrate all of this.

For some reason, they'd wanted me, and they hadn't put on any breaks to get me.

I'd been manipulated. Deceived. Wronged. Hurt. Crushed.

Yesterday, before I overheard the conversation between Callan and Mateo, I'd thought the only problem was that Mateo was my professor. That, in itself, had been a big issue because I knew I couldn't be the one who got him fired from the job he so cared about. But now...now I was stuck wondering if anything with them had been real. The sponsored membership...meeting Mateo the night I became an official member...Callan buying a drink from me at Gideon's club...The agreement we struck, to be each other's submissive and dominants until we found someone more permanent.

Bella...Gorgeous...Baby girl...

Had anything been genuine? What could they possibly have wanted me that much for? Had it all been a game to them? To play with the girl and see how long it took for...for what? For me to fall for them? And why the hell would they go to these crazy lengths to have one insignificant girl? I wasn't anything special, not really. I'd seen firsthand the selection at Desire's Den. They had plenty of beautiful women to pick from.

My head was about to explode with all of the speculation going on. All I had was theories, and if I wanted answers, I had to get them from the source. The thing was, I wasn't ready to face them yet. I didn't know if I ever would be.

Falling... Falling for someone in books and movies always seemed like the best feeling in the world, but no one told me what it was like when the falling ended, and you finally hit the ground. You were lucky if you had any pieces left of your heart after the impact.

"I'm going to kill them," Kevin stated after several minutes of silence. His eyes were focused so intently on my face, taking in my every emotion. I wonder what he saw that made him look partly sad but primarily pissed.

Not commenting on his brutal words, I asked instead, "Can I stay here for a while?" I didn't want to go back to my apartment. I wanted to stay away from everything that reminded me of them–at least until I was strong enough to take the pain that would follow those memories.

His eyes softened. "You can stay for as long as you need, which reminds me...write me a list of everything you'll need from your apartment, I'll go get them for you."

Why was it that kindness made me cry when retelling the shit that happened hadn't?

Kevin abandoned his seat and came to me. I fell into his arms, and he hugged me close, trying to soothe my aching heart.

"It will get better, honey, I promise," he whispered to me. "But until it does, I'll be with you every step of the way."