Page 29 of At Their Mercy: Part I

Monday—oh. Danny and Emerson?

They had a bunch of rescue dogs, so I could probably count on their knowing how to care for Romeo and Lima. Plus, now we didn’t have to interrupt our playtime.

I dug out Daddy’s food order. Two cheeseburgers and a chocolate shake. Oh, and a side of mozzarella sticks.

“I forgot to ask, Shay,” Tate mentioned. “What’s the story behind your dogs’ names?”

That must be the most boring story out there. I grinned a little. “I went by the only piece of art Master owns—and I’m using the word art very liberally. A poster with the NATO alphabet.”

He let out a laugh. “Aw, I like that. It’s very Tenley.”

Noa perked up. “Oh my gosh, we should have a kinky alphabet. S for sounding! D for Daddy!”

I grinned. That was fucking cool. “I want that on our bedroom wall,” I told Daddy.

“Hell, so do I,” Tate said. “A for asphyxiation?”

Daddy pondered the idea while he took a bite of his burger. “They need to be short words—and impossible to confuse for somethin’ else.”

I nodded thoughtfully. “M for maso?”

“That’s a good one,” Master agreed. “I’d change M to Mclean, S to switch, and A to⁠—”

“B for brat!” Noa cried out.

“Obviously,” Daddy chuckled. “Good luck with the X and Q, though.”

Oh yeah. What the fuck could we put there?

Owner went into thinking mode, and it looked like Master Walker did the same.

I made a face. “What about Z?”

Daddy cocked his head, and then a smile spread across his lips. “It goes against the reaction whore in me, but we can show you upstairs what Z could represent.”

Uh-oh.

“What, you gonna give him zingers?” Noa guessed.

Master seemed to have caught on, and he hitched his brows. “Do we have any on hand?”

Daddy nodded. “I think so. There should be one that fits.”

Now I was curious!

“Oh, I know what Q could be,” KC said. “River, you’ll like this. Quiet. It’s you personified, and it’s sure a part of doll play.”

“Speech restrictions too.” Master Walker combed his fingers through Macklin’s hair. “I like it.”

“More people should engage in that fetish,” Owner said seriously.

Daddy and I laughed.

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Noa raised his hand. “F for funhouse? Cuz it’s our alphabet. House Mclean’s alphabet⁠—”

“Mclean House,” Reese stated.

Noa stuck out his tongue.