* * * * * 

I'm pleased that Frankie tells Mateo that he and River have access to the VIP area with their Platinum membership. That's always been reserved for only the seven of us plus anyone we invite in, but Frankie seems to have developed a bond with Mateo, and I'm happy he's encouraging the young man, who sort of reminds me of me at his age, into our group. 

Besides, the VIP area has always been ludicrously cavernous for the seven of us and whatever tiny twinks we've worked with in the past. It's nice to have a few more people in the area, which looks like a strange, fourth wall breaking, smoking room, all red accents, leather armchairs and couches, and polished hardwood floors, like something from the opening scene in one of those old armchair detective TV shows. 

It looks out, over the small stage, over the tiny dancefloor, that's only even really there so we can watch our subs rub up against each other. There is another VIP area upstairs, within the club proper, but we don't use it much on the weekends because we're all getting too old for EDM and Frankie sometimes hires it out for private parties. 

Slightly to my surprise, Mateo presents River with a beautiful but simple narrow leather collar, adorned with delicate chains, this evening, and he accepts it with a huge smile and tears in his eyes, particularly at Mateo's words. 

"River, Master Gray told us that putting a collar on a submissive is considered a pretty big deal around here. Well, you are a pretty big deal here," he pats his heart, "and given how much I love you, I think this is an ideal way to make sure you never forget how much you mean to me, and how much I have enjoyed taking this journey with you." 

I look around at my friends and feel good. Landon is there, with Nikolai on his lap – I swear that kid is a cat trapped in a hot, muscular, tattooed body. Dexter is with Dae, who is behaving beautifully for a change – Dex is really having a positive effect on him and he hasn't been nearly so bratty lately. Xander, Christian and Chase are talking intently to each other – their chosen subs for the evening grinding against each other on the small dance floor. 

Ellis is curled against Frankie, sipping a drink and listening attentively to whatever Frankie is saying, a small smile playing across his lips. River is on the floor, sitting assiduously with his hands behind his back, and he keeps stealing glances at Mateo, only to find Mateo looking adoringly at him every time, which really is cute. 

The only pair that gives me pause is Amir and Owen. Owen is by his side, assuming the same position as River, and Amir's hand rests casually on his shoulder, occasionally moving to run a thumb over his delicate cheekbone. Owen looks at peace, which I like, but I still get a pang every time I get a gleam of his flawless gemstone eyes. 

I'm brought back to myself by a sudden change in Ellis. He tenses, his eyes flashing with anger, chased by concern, and I look to see what has caught his attention. It's Gabriel, standing behind Sawyer, who's stopped to talk to another Dom. His muscles are not as defined, he's looking a lot leaner than he did a few months ago, his higher ribs visible and his hip bones jutting underneath his small leather shorts. His wrists have raw, red marks around them and he has bruising around his throat and cheek. He has marks over his chest and thighs, but it's impossible for me to tell if these are the same ones he had the last time I saw him. 

None of this is what shocks me though, and I don't think it's what caused the reaction in Ellis either. His eyes, those clear gray-hazel eyes, look clouded in emotional pain, dull and reactionless. That's the biggest transformation, and Ellis glances at me, hurt in his eyes, a plea of sorts. 

I move before I really know what I'm doing, heading out to the floor, planting myself in front of Sawyer as he moves away from his friend, pulling Gabriel behind him. 

"What?" his voice sneers. 

"What are you doing Sawyer?" 

"What do you think? I'm going to a playroom, to play with my submissive. Why? Do you want to join us?" 

Even though he's being sarcastic, I'm almost tempted to take him up on the offer, just to do what I can to protect Gabriel. 

"What is your problem, Gray? Why have you always been so interested in my submissive? I mean, we all know you're incapable of keeping control of what's yours, but we aren't all like that. You can look at him all you want, but you can't have him. He's mine." 

"If you're so sure he's 'yours' why do you treat him like shit? Why do you do things that he doesn't enjoy?" 

Sawyer gets into my face, his own twisted with fury. 

"Because I want to, you fucking idiot. There's nothing better than the sight of someone who adores you screaming in agony, to see those pretty eyes wet with tears, to hear him asking why. You should try it some time. It might help you get that stick out of your ass." 

He pushes past me, dragging Gabriel behind him. As they go, Gabriel looks behind him, to me, and I see a desperation in his eyes that hasn't been there before. Maybe this is it, maybe Sawyer has finally broken him, or maybe he's just realized he doesn't want this anymore. 

When I go back to my seat I feel sick. Ellis immediately sidles over. 

"What did he say, Master Gray?" 

"You don't want to know, Ellis." 

"You know, I think if you punched Master Sawyer out, I don't think Master Suzu would kick you out." 

"I'm beginning to think I don't really care if he would. I have to do something, but I'm conscious that I'm getting myself involved in a way that he's not even asking for, and I don't know why." 

"You don't? Is that what's holding you back? You're worried he's going to reject your help? Reject you?" 

This is cheeky of Ellis, but I feel too numb to remind him of the appropriate speech. 

"No, I know what you're saying, and that isn't it. I'm not even attracted to people who are that broken, Ellis, you know that. If anything, even less so after what happened with Liam. I don't want someone who's uncertain about what they want." 

"Is that what holds you back with everyone then? You think they seem uncertain?" 

Here we go again. But, for some reason, I don't mind so much when it comes from Ellis. Maybe because he's been through his own journey to arrive at certainty, so there's a chance he can understand what I'm saying. 

"There isn't anyone who that even needs to apply to, Ellis." 

"What about Owen? Or River – don't pretend you weren't attracted to him at first." 

"Of course I was, but not in the way you're suggesting. And Owen's different. We're unsuited." 

Just then, Chase joins us, sitting on my other side. 

"So, Gray, how is it you know Master Sawyer's sub?" 

Christ, not him too. 

"He's a friend of Ellis'" 

"Do you think Sawyer's bored of him yet? I wouldn't mind picking up the pieces." 

"Fuck, Chase, I know you're immature, but seriously?" 

"Not immature, Gray, just know what I want, unlike some people." 

I'm saved from responding by Fetu entering the VIP area, his huge bulk almost seeming to fill the normally roomy space, his ordinarily calm face unusually worried. He heads to Frankie, whispering in his ear, and Frankie goes pale. 

"Gray, Landon, come," he instructs and we follow him out, along with Ellis. 

He doesn't say anything until we meet Patrice downstairs. 

"Sir, we need to enter playroom four. Something is amiss." 

"Who's in there this evening?" 

"Master Sawyer, Sir." 

Fuck. I don't want to know what 'amiss' means. Patrice is famous for understatement, so any negative statement from him needs to be multiplied to the nth degree. 

Frankie strides over to the heavy wooden door, not bothering to knock, just keying the override code into the keypad. As soon as he swings the door open I push past him and see Sawyer, curled around his knees on the floor. 

"I didn't mean it," his voice is little more than a whisper, and I leave his face, looking in horror at the bed, where Gabriel lays, utterly still, eyes closed. 

I rush to him, seeking a pulse in the long, bruised neck, desperate now, unsteady, unable to find anything, my years of school proving useless in this one moment when they truly count. 

"Landon, help," my voice is low, shaky, I can't believe I held back, or maybe it's because I interfered, who knows, and this is the outcome. 

Landon rushes to my side, two fingers under Gabriel's jaw, two more on his inner wrist. 

"It's there, it's weak but it's there," he lowers his ear to Gabriel's mouth, moves a hand to his chest. "He's not breathing, though. He's been choked." 

I lean forward without hesitation to perform mouth-to-mouth, to give him the air that he's been starved of, counting the beats in my head. 

"Stop," Landon instructs after several breaths, "I think he's breathing on his own again." He checks the pulse and breathing. "I think he's going to be okay, but we need to get him to a hospital, he's still unconscious and we don't know how long he was out for." 

As Patrice comes forward to explain it can only have been a short while, as he'd raised the alarm as soon as he thought Sawyer was taking it too far, while Gabriel was still fighting beneath him as Patrice witnessed it on the camera, I look around, and realize Sawyer has gone. 

"Where's Sawyer?" I demand. "He left when you were doing mouth-to-mouth," Frankie admits. 

Ellis had run to grab some spare clothes of his and passes them to me now, some sweats that hang off Gabriel's too lean frame as I pull them onto him and scoop him into my arms. 

"Why did you let him go? He could have killed Gabriel." 

"I thought it for the best. We know where he lives, and I thought if Gabriel came round while he was still here there was a risk Gabriel would be sucked straight back in." 

As sickened as I am by that idea, Frankie has a point – that's the call of abusive relationships. Whatever's going on with the two of them, there's a high chance Sawyer would be more than capable of talking Gabriel around. 

I pass Gabriel's still form to Landon, and go to bring my car to the back entrance – it'll be quicker than waiting for the valet or an ambulance. Landon climbs into the back with him and I head straight to his hospital – he might be a pediatric specialist but he is good enough, and gregarious enough, that he has friends in all the right kinds of high places and I'll take that if it may benefit Gabriel. 

When we arrive, Landon carries him into the emergency room and is greeted instantly by the on-call resident. 

"Doctor Johnson, what's happening here?" the frazzled young man asks. 

"Our friend has had a choking incident. He's breathing independently, although his breathing did stop for a short while, his pulse was weak but getting stronger, and he hasn't regained consciousness." 

The young man raises one delicate eyebrow at the words 'choking incident', as he casts his piercing blue eyes over Gabriel's bruised and marked torso, and the marks on his neck, which are already forming into very hand-shaped bruises. 

"I trust your initial evaluation Doctor, so we can get him straight to the Intensive Care Unit, as he'll need to be monitored for brain activity. As you know, Doctor Johnson, any extended period of unconsciousness is cause for concern, but even more so if there was a cessation of lung activity." 

He hurriedly gets Gabriel settled into a room and hooked up to various monitors, and instructs an attractive young nurse on which tests need to be run. 

Just as he's beginning to explain the prognosis to us his pager goes off and he glances at it. 

"Shit, sorry gentlemen. Got a 10-50 multiple PI coming in. Likely to be a mess." 

He rushes from the room, and Landon and I sit, watching the bustling young nurse conduct her tests, Gabriel remaining still throughout. 

"What do we do?" Landon asks. 

I don't know exactly what he means – it could be any number of problems we're currently facing. I decide to pick just one. 

"We have to keep Sawyer away from Gabriel. It's like Frankie said, if he gets contact he'll just worm his way right back in, Gabriel will forget how much he wanted to get away." 

"Are you so sure he does?" 

"You didn't see the look he shot me before Sawyer dragged him down to the dungeon. He wanted out then. But you know..." 

"Yeah, I know," Landon sighs. 

I rub my hand over my short beard, suddenly feeling very tired and far older than twenty-nine. Domestic abuse cases, which let's face it is what this amounts to – the BDSM is just decoration – are one of the hardest to deal with in my line of work, after cases of child abuse. The victim is often so cowed by their attacker that they simply can't imagine living their lives without that person. It means the instigator may need to offer very little in apology before the victim is willing to go back to it. 

 I don't want that for Gabriel, but what I want means very little in these circumstances. 

* * * * *