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that to a prosecutor, Rick would be fucked. “Did you try to stop the sex at any point?”

“What, like safe word?”

How does she know about safe words? Of course, in the post-Fifty Fucking Shades-era, everyone and their cat thinks they know about safe words. “Yes. Or just say no, or try to get them to stop?”

“No, not that I remember. Have you talked to Damon? Did he say I told them to stop?”

“I have talked to Damon,” I confirm. “He didn’t think you wanted to stop, but he says you weren’t able to talk much, so I’m concerned that maybe they weren’t as sensitive to what you wanted as they could have been.” I hope that’s sufficiently vague but also sounds like I’m on her side.

“Oh. Well, they were drunk, too. Or at least Damon was. Rick seemed pretty plastered, but I don’t know him well enough to say for sure. Look, it was just drunk sex. It got stupid and out of hand at the end, but it was consensual, at least on my part. Rick . . . Rick’s not saying I violated him, is he?”

“No, absolutely not.”

“Oh, good. Dovie was really vague about why you wanted to talk to me. She actually said Rick wants to send me an engagement present, which is ridiculous because he barely knows me and he doesn’t know Jiro at all, but, hey, I’m registered at Bloomies and Neiman Marcus if he’s really worried about clearing his karma.”

I chuckle. That’s not the sort of payoff I imagined, but if I can get Rick out of this for as little as an upscale wedding present, I’ll take it. “I’ll let him know. Laurel, I need to ask you some tough questions. I appreciate you talking to me so honestly. Will you bear with me?”

“Sure. Being honest, taking responsibility for my actions, that’s all part of getting clean and staying clean. I’d really like to put that part of my life behind me, though.”

“Understood. Rick’s not going to interfere with your life, I promise you.”

“Okay. What tough questions?”

“Have you ever gone by the name Evonne?”

“No. My big brother calls me Laurie but that’s about it. My family’s not much for nicknames.”

“Your sorority sisters?”

“Um, they called me Swill, because of how fast I could chug a beer.” She sounds embarrassed. “No one’s called me anything but Laurel in years.”

I smile into the phone and wish I didn’t have to keep prying into this woman’s past. She deserves to be left alone, and as long as she isn’t wholly lying to me, I’ll try to make sure she is. “Have you ever talked to anyone about the Fire Island party?”

“Yes, a few people. I got counseling and talked to my counselor about it. My sponsor at Narcotics Anonymous. My fiancée.”

“Anyone else?”

“No.”

“Have you ever talked about it publicly?”

“What, at an NA meeting? I’ve talked about hitting bottom. Waking up naked and bleeding in the abandoned house in Baltimore, not knowing where I was or how I got there. I don’t think I’ve talked about the party specifically at a meeting. I’ve certainly never used Rick’s name. I don’t blame him, you know.”

Fuck, this poor woman really did hit bottom. She’s lucky to be alive. “Okay. Have you ever posted anything online about it?”

“God, no. Are you kidding? I’d lose my job.”

More leverage. I just can’t believe this woman has anything to do with Rick’s stalking. “Have you ever tried to contact Rick, or his manager?”

“No. Look, this is probably horrible to say, but I honestly haven’t thought about him. It was good sex until the end. I was focused more on Damon than Rick. He was . . . I don’t know what to call him.”

“An accessory?” I suggest.

“That sounds bad, like I was using him, but, yes. He was an accessory. Dovie had to remind me who he even was.”

“It’s not horrible to say. I hate to ask this, but a criminal and clearly untrue allegation has been made against Rick by someone pretending to be you. If we could protect your identity somehow, would you be willing to help Rick refute the allegation?”

“Um.” She’s silent for so long that I’m sure she’s going to say “no.” What she says instead nearly knocks me out of my chair. “Mr. Logan, you’re a Dom, right?”

“Yes.”

She lets out a soft breath. “It’s funny, I can always tell. Rick’s one, too. I don’t know if you know that. That’s what drew me to him in the first place.”

“I know he is. Are you a submissive?”

“A pet, yes. That’s why I was so out of control. I mean, it’s not an excuse. I own my past. But I was so fucked up because I needed to be owned. I couldn’t reconcile it, what I needed and what I’d been taught I should want. It made me crazy. I was trying to find something . . . I just wanted to be whole. Can you understand that?”

“Completely.”

She sighs. “Thank you. So, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I need permission from my owner. I’d like to help, but I have to make sure Tatsu agrees first. He’s away until tomorrow, and I know he won’t give me permission for something like this over the phone. He’ll want to talk about it face-to-face. He’ll probably want to talk with you, too.”

“I understand. I’m happy to talk with him.”

“Okay. Look, Dovie . . . she doesn’t get all this. The control and being owned and all of it. She’s not really kinky. She just likes threesomes. And she’s probably trying to protect me in her own, weird way.”

My stomach tightens into a fist. “In what weird way?”

“What she’s done. Blocking you and telling me not to talk to you. She doesn’t understand what it means that you’re a Dom. Or that Rick is.”

“What does it mean that we’re Doms?”

“It means . . . I guess it means I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt. Not all Doms are good people. I know that. There are abusers in every community. But

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