Page 11 of In Her Own Way
“Come ho—,” Rowena was saying as Victoria hung up.
Her friend meant well, but she had no idea how it felt to be the community fuck-up.
Six more hours later, her shift was finally over. Miguel relieved her. He worked part-time with a rotating schedule, so Victoria could get two nights off a week and Erin could get whatever time off she needed. She was the big boss, after all. She told Miguel she had basically nothing to report, except walking Kimo out at precisely 7:02 pm. She almost mentioned the camera twelve issues, but decided to keep that one close to the vest because she wasn’t sure who to trust. She had recon to do first and would recheck the next night.
She was one block away from Erin’s apartment when her phone rang. She glanced down at the caller ID.Oh, shit.It said, “Inmate call from Stateville Correctional Facility.”
She picked up. “Yes,” she said to the automated voice that asked if she wanted to take the call. After a few clicking sounds, the call went through. “Hey, Dad.”
His laughter was a welcoming sound, as much as she’d hated him for a while. “How are you settling in? Your Uncle Jimmy said Erin hired you.”
“Yeah, I’m doing good there. I’m figuring shit out.”
“Uncle Jimmy keeps me stocked with phone cards, but you never know when these calls cut out. I wanted to hear your voice, and even though there’s not much I can do for you from here, I’m still your dad and want to help.”
“Thanks, Dad,” she said. “I’m okay. We Addisons always land on our feet.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “But sometimes it’s on the back of someone else.”
“I hear that.” And she did hear what he was saying, loud and clear. It was unspoken knowledge that her father had taken the fall for a poorly planned job they’d tried to pull in Chicago. She never found out, and never wanted to ask, what they were trying to steal at the shipping docks up there, but her father was the one that had gotten caught. And he never snitched. That was a prideful Addison trait. You could be a grade-A asshole, but as long as you weren’t a snitch, then all was well.
“I just want to caution you, Vic,” he said, his voice crackling over the line. “Those idiot cousins of yours. Don’t get involved. You wouldn’t like it in a place like this.”
“I have no intention of having anything to do with them, Dad. My days of following their lead are long gone. I haven’t even seen them yet, actually.”
“You will,” he laughed. “Your Aunt Jenny loves any excuse to cook. And tag, you’re it.” He laughed again. “What I wouldn’t do to be there with you.” This time, his voice sounded wistful.
“I should come visit you, Dad.”
“No,” he said quickly. “As much as I would love that, I don’t want you anywhere near this place. Ever. You hear me?”
Ahh, there was the tone she knew and didn’t love as a kid. “Yes, sir,” she said, automatically slipping back into her childhood. “I won’t. How many more?”
“Five with good behavior,” he said. “I’m working on that. I got a job in the kitchen, you know. Remember when you worked KP in boot camp?”
“Sure.” She smiled. That had been one of her lies. She never told him she’d been a lunch lady in an elementary school, and simply said she’d been working KP. And he bought it. Lying ran in the family.
“Have you called your mother?”
“Why would I?”
“She’s your mother.”
“She’s living her vida loca in France or Spain or somewhere.”
“The Netherlands,” her father corrected. “And again, she’s your mother. Family first, Victoria.”
“If you say so.” Yes, she was bitter. Her mother left when she was ten. Just up and left, saying she wanted nothing more to do with Tommy Addison, the hardworking contractor with a small-time criminal habit. But didn’t she realize, didn’t she understand that when she left Tommy Addison, she also left ten-year-old Victoria? Apparently not, so good riddance.
They talked for a few more minutes, and then her father’s phone card ran out. It had been good to talk to him. She hadn’t done much of that in Denton Heights. Maybe once a year around Christmas. And honestly, she was relieved that he didn’t want her to visit him in prison. She’d come close to getting sent to one herself, thanks to her cousins Tweedledee and Tweedledum. But still, she was no snitch.
Chapter 4
Jessica
Mocktail in hand, Jessica strolled the common area at Dominique’s. It was a busy Saturday night at the dungeon, and that was good. Maybe a wayward Domme would sweep her off her feet and drag her by the hair to one of the private back rooms. Her long hair was fastened loosely behind her neck, perfect for grabbing. And she’d even spent extra time putting together an outfit to entice someone’s, anyone’s, lustful female gaze. Her black ruffled skirt paired with the same color leggings matched her sculpting pink-and-lavender floral-print camisole top. The thin straps dug in a little bit, but once she lost some weight, yeah, right, it wouldn’t be so bad. She hoped the body-shaping top was keeping her ample midsection in check, and she also hoped the corresponding muffin top of her breasts would draw prospective Dommes’ gaze to her bust and away from her obvious love of donuts and cheeseburgers.
But Dommes appearing to whisk her away wasn’t looking likely so far, and besides, she had that private session with Mistress Starr in another fifteen minutes or so. Jessica was excited for the session, almost manic about it, and that would never do, so she took a breath and stopped to watch a demonstration. She sidled up to the cordoned-off area and tookin the scene. The young submissive woman was clearly nervous. Her older Dom seemed cool as a cucumber. Oh, sure, he wasn’t the one about to get zapped with a TENS Unit. And publicly. These were some of Jessica’s hard limits. No public scenes and no electric anything.
