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Chapter 8: Reminders

Scott POV-

"What the hell were you thinking?" Laurent chided as he walked up to me.

"She should not be here," I growled.

"That may be true, Scott. But you know the rules better than that. You cannot interfere with a Dom and his sub unless you know she's being abused! It does not matter who the sub is!" Laurent reminded me.

"There is no way Molly is that man's sub! There's no way she even knows what that word even means!" Scott rejected.

Laurents's eyes looked me up and down thoughtfully. "How long have you known her?"

"For many years," I told Laurent evasively.

"And you do not believe she is submissive?"

My eyes drifted to Molly. She had her back to me, and that was partially obscured by the long blond hair that was flowing down. Her body was stiff, and even from my distance, I could sense the stubborn set of her jaw. She was practically challenging the man she was with. In my mind, I could see Molly's gorgeous blue eyes flashing with her passion and temper. I felt my body tighten as I remembered all the times she had looked at me with the same challenge in her eyes. I would have killed to be able to answer that. But now, I wanted to kill the man she was with. Did I think she was submissive? Absolutely. I had seen her back down from me. But it had been a fight. One that he had greatly enjoyed, not that he would let her in on that fact.

However, it did not look like the man with her was enjoying it.

"Yes, she is submissive. But it does not look like that man knows what he is doing," I snarled.

Esme scoffed behind me, and both Laurent and I turned to look at her. I raised an eyebrow at her. She was clearly eavesdropping and had no shame of doing so.

"If you have something to say, Esme, you might as well spit it out," I told her, trying not to let her see my smile.

A person could always depend on Esme to say or show, in this case, exactly what she was thinking.

"Monsieur Jean-Pierre is a lot of things, but a Maître he is not," Esme commented with obvious contempt.

"That is Jean-Pierre DuPont?" Laurent asked, sounding startled.

"Oui, it is he," Esme confirmed.

I recognized the last name of DuPont from some of my father’s contacts in France. But I did not recognize the man's name. Arbitrarily, though, I hated it.

"Who is this... Jean-Pierre?“ I asked, turning back to look over at them.

I had no idea what had happened when my back was turned, but Jean Pierre was sitting back on the couch and looking out like a king surveying his kingdom. Something about his attitude was driving me crazy, and I just wanted to knock his head off.

"Outside of this club, he is the heir to one of our most prominent families. He is a spoiled rich kid with a doting father who is willing to pay the way for his son. His biggest problem is that he knows it as well. He has made a living out of spending his father’s money," Laurent explained.

"Kid?" I asked.

"Grand total of twenty-five, I think," Laurent admitted.

I gave Laurent a weak smile. Pushing forty, Laurent looked at many people as ‘kids’... that included me at times. I didn't like to admit it, but he was really good at making me feel like a kid all too often. It didn't help that I was only a few years older than Jean-Pierre.

I gave a slight shake of my head. "So, he's young, dumb, and rich. I assume there's something more to him in order to make you both dislike him."

Esme and Laurent looked at each other like they were unsure if they should say anything to me.

"Tell me," I told them.

"At the club, he's not exactly patient with his subs. He treats them as objects or trophies. Some subs don't mind it and enjoy his brand of dominance. But some..." Esme trailed off as she looked over at Molly once more.

I glanced back to see Molly saying something to him. He waved her off and then went back to ignoring her.

"Molly will not withstand that treatment for long. I'm shocked she's managed to keep her mouth shut this long," I told them.

"Sometimes subs tend to quiet down when they know punishment is forthcoming. Jean-Pierre may have managed to find a suitable punishment that has tempered her attitudes," Laurent pointed out.

Jealousy and anger rolled through my gut, and I turned away from Molly and Jean-Pierre. I knew I had no right to resent Jean-Pierre, and unless Molly said otherwise, I could not interfere. But just the thought of someone else feeling they had the right to Molly pissed me off.

"You look like you swallowed another toad, my friend," Laurent remarked. "If you need to leave for the night, I will take over.”

I thought his offer over. I would love to be anywhere but here right now. The idea of watching that arrogant son of a bitch treating Molly the way he was was driving me mad. However, I couldn't stomach the idea of letting her out of my sight now that I knew what was going on as well. There were way too many ways that Molly could be hurt because Jean-Pierre wasn't diligent. Based on what I had learned from Esme and Laurent, I highly doubted that Jean-Pierre was the diligent sort.

No, I couldn't leave. Not with Molly with that man. But I couldn't sit there and watch it either.

"I think I just need to take in some air," I remarked. "Just do me a favor and keep an eye on them."

Esme smiled humorlessly. "Whenever Jean-Pierre is in the club, he never leaves my sight. "

I caught the sense of something more, something deeper that Esme was not telling me, and by the look that she and Laurent shared, I would guess that he knew as well.

"Is there something more that I should know?" I asked, trying to get some idea from their gazes.

"Esme?" Laurent asked gently.

Esme looked down at her hands that she was suddenly wringing. Laurent reached over the counter and gripped them to stop her anxious movement.

"It is okay, mon coeur," Laurent told her softly.

"I am sorry, Monsieur. I am not ready," Esme practically whispered.

I tried not to let my frustration show. My gut told me that this was extremely important and directly involved Molly's safety. Those two things alone made me want to demand that they tell me everything immediately. However, Esme was not ready to discuss it, and I had to respect that. I was not her Dom, and it was not my place to insist. But that didn't mean I didn't want to.

Unable to get the answers I needed, nor interfere with Molly and that man, I knew I needed to get the hell away from there... Before my desires overrode my common sense and respect for the basic rules of the club and the lifestyle in general, I walked away.

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