“I’m so sorry, Jenny,” Susan stroked her face, kissing her forehead,
cheeks, lips. “I never wanted something like this to happen.”

Jenny rubbed her reddened wrists where the ropes had chafed. “I’m just
glad you knew where I was. I didn’t think you’d come for me.” Jenny
whimpered, shaking hard now that the adrenaline was gone from her veins.

Susan pulled back in shock, her back to the small elevator wall. “You thought I’d leave you in Francesca’s hands?”

“WellII didn’t know.” Jenny began and then stopped, thinking this wasn’t her place to question her mistress.

Susan felt an unfamiliar emotion well up inside. Sorrow. And guilt.
What had she become that Jenny thought she would leave her to be
tortured by the likes of Francesca Wolff?

She didn’t want to think about the answer. Fortunately, she didn’t have
to. The elevator door opened, she ushered Jenny out, stopping by the
desk to toss the key at the clerk. “I’m afraid I’ll have to take a rain
check on that drink,” she winked and they were gone before the girl
could think of a reply.

*~*~*~*~

As soon as they got home, Susan filled the sunken tub with soothing
bubble bath, gently undressed Jenny and eased her into the tub, then
joined her. With soft hands, she washed her head to toe, taking her
time, being particularly careful with her back. Damn Francesca! This
was inexcusable!

Hurting Jenny not for pleasure, not because Jenny wanted it or asked
for it, as she sometimes did, but to hurt her, to hurt Marina. That
niggling feeling of guilt crept forward again and she wondered if it
was somehow her fault. Or had she become what she was through Francesca?

Cause and effect, who knew? But things seemed even more tangled than
usual lately. So many things happening so many coincidences converging
at once. It was almost dizzying. When had it all begun, she wondered as
she caressed Jenny’s bruised skin with her silken hands.

She turned her attention back to Jenny, rinsing her, stroking her,
kissing her, holding her, trying to make up for what she’d suffered at
Francesca’s hands. It had been a long time since she had been this way
with someone. It touched some longing deep inside but she didn’t want
to name it. What was the point? She was what she was. She was who she
was, and that wasn’t going to change anytime soon.