Stop
The neon sign of The bar flickered against the damp pavement, casting red light across the rain slick alleyway. I pulled the high neck of my jacket up adjusting it slightly ensuring the dark leather collar around my throat stayed clearly visible to anyone passing by.
It was a cheap piece bought off an underground vendor three months after I walked out of university but it was my only shield. Under current law, the moment you graduated from university, your status had to be logged into the National Registry. Even if you chose not to take a Dominant right away, you were legally required to remain in the registry system and carry your official registration paperwork with you at all times. Failing to register was a criminal offense.
My former Dom back on campus had been too wrapped up in his own life to make time for me. When I realized he viewed my devotion as a scheduling convenience rather than a commitment or devotion, I decided I wasn't going to stay in a relationship with someone who didn't care. I packed my bags, skipped the mandatory registry sign-up, and walked away. I could take far better care of myself on my own and did while he did his own thing.
The management at the bar knew the truth. They let me work the night shifts and perform on the small velvet stage for cash tips, under one strict condition: Keep the fake collar on and look like a properly registered, bound submissive, and we'll pretend we didn't know you skipped the system. They didn't have to pay me which sucked but the tips were nice.
I had just finished my performance and grabbed my tips and my rain coat when the side doors of the bar swung open. The chatter in the room died almost instantly.
Four Registry Enforcement officers stepped through the light fog of the cigarette smoke, their heavy black tactical coats and silver badges gleaming under the bar lights. My pulse jumped into my throat. I smoothed my damp hair back from the earlier rain, keeping my posture entirely calm as I made a quiet line for the exit...I could draw attention.
"Excuse me. Miss," a deep voice called out.
I stopped, adjusting the strap of my bag, and turned with a polite, vacant smile. Two officers had separated from the group and were stepping directly into my path.
The first officer was tall he had broad-shouldered, and carried himself with quiet, absolute authority. Definitely a dominant. He had sharp, piercing grey eyes, dark hair cropped close at the sides, and a jawline so perfect it looked carved from the gods themselves. His black leather gloves flexed slightly as he took in my posture, his gaze lingering briefly on the visible leather collar at my throat.
The second man standing half a step behind him was lean and hawk-faced, and coolly analytical. He had striking beautiful amber eyes that seemed to calculate every detail in the room at once, a narrow scar running down his left cheek, and light brown hair neatly parted annoyingly unaffected by the rain.
"Good evening, officers," I said, keeping my tone light, smooth, and entirely unbothered. Play it cool I told my myself.
"Routine check," the grey-eyed officer said, his voice a low, resonant baritone. "We're sweeping the district tonight. We've had reports of several individuals who failed to log into the Registry after graduating—both male and female. Do you know of any males or females who haven't registered?"
"No, I haven't heard anything," I replied smoothly attempting to lie smoothly meeting his sharp grey eyes without a single flicker of hesitation. "I'm sorry."
"If you hear or see anything, let us know," he said.
"Oh yeah, no problem," I said with a quick nod, already shifting my weight toward the door desperate to get out before anyone asked to see my paperwork or verified the collar.
"Stay safe out there," the amber-eyed man added, his cool gaze lingering on me for a fraction of a second too long.
To make my skin prinkle slightly.
I turned instantly and pushed through the exit door into the downpour, breaking into a fast, hurried walk without my umbrella down the back alleyway to put distance between us.
I glanced back over my shoulder as I hit the street corner.
My stomach dropped into a cold pit.
The tall, grey-eyed officer had stepped out of the side door. He wasn't just standing there he was following me, his long strides picking up speed the moment he saw me turn my head.
He knows.
Fuck.
Panic surged through me. I turned and sprinted full speed into the storm and into the abandoned building I have been staying in.
Rain slammed against my face, soaking through my jacket in seconds. My hair made thick curtains of wet hair. I vaulted over a rusted chain-link fence, my boots hitting the slick asphalt on the other side with a sharp splash. I cut right through a narrow drainage corridor, ducking under low-hanging pipes and weaving through alleyways, using every shortcut I had mapped over the last year thankful that was probably the only reason I was escaping him:
Behind me, the heavy thud of his combat boots echoed off the brick walls. He had let me get a head start, but now he was running full speed after me. If he had sprinted like that from the very beginning instead of pacing his pursuit, he would have caught me before I even reached the fence.
I threw myself around a final corner, lunged through the broken gate of an abandoned office building, and slipped through a cracked side window into the dark interior.
I scrambled up two flights of rotting stairs and ducked into a small, dusty corner office on the third floor. I pressed my back tight against the cold concrete wall beside the window and slid down to the floor, pulling my knees into my chest.breaking fast as a wet fought I've had for weeks left my mouth.
Outside, the rain lashed violently against the broken glass panes.
I covered my mouth with a trembling, damp hand, trying to suppress the ragged, wet cough building in my throat from the freezing rain and the sprint. My soaked clothes clung heavy to my skin, and my heart hammered against my ribs as I sat frozen in the dark, listening through the roar of the storm for the sound of boots on the stairs below.
I huddled against the damp concrete wall as the rain battered the shattered windowpanes, my body shivering violently in the unheated dark of the abandoned office. The quiet grated at my nerves for hours, every groan of the old building sounding like a heavy boot on the stairs. Eventually, exhaustion overtook fear. I curled inward with my knees pulled tight to my chest and fell into an unsteady, shallow sleep right there on the cold floor.
I woke up to gray morning light filtering through the grime. A ragged, heavy cough rattled in my chest, and every joint in my body ached from the damp chill.
Dragging myself up, I walked over to one of the surviving metal desks in the corner. Tucked deep in the bottom drawer, wrapped in a plastic grocery bag, was my single set of spare dry clothes. I stripped out of my sodden jacket and wet pants, pulling on a warm, oversized gray sweatshirt and dry jeans. The cheap leather collar went right back over my throat, cold against my skin, but necessary.
I slipped out of the building and walked four blocks down to a small corner convenience store, the morning air biting at my cheeks. Inside, I used a handful of crumpled tip bills from my pocket to buy a hot cup of coffee, a bottle of water, and a warm breakfast sandwich from the heated display case.
Sitting on the low concrete barrier outside the store, I scarfed down the sandwich, letting the hot coffee bleed some warmth back into my numb fingers.
Once finished, I threw my trash away and started the quiet walk back toward my hideout, keeping my head down and my eyes on the wet pavement.
I turned the corner onto Fifth Street, only to freeze dead in my tracks.
Fifty yards ahead, standing outside a parked patrol vehicle, were the exact same two officers from last night.
The tall, broad-shouldered officer with the impressive jaw turned his head instantly. His piercing gray eyes locked onto mine across the sidewalk.
"Hey! Stop right there!" he barked, taking an immediate step forward.
Panic hit me like a bucket of ice water. I didn't think; I just spun on my heel and sprinted in the opposite direction, ducking blindly down a narrow side street.
I lost him last night, I can beat him again, I told myself, my heart beating as my boots slapped against the wet asphalt.
I cut left into a tight commercial alleyway, planning to double back toward the train tracks. But as I rounded the corner at full speed, I didn't see his partner until it was far too late.
The hawk-faced officer with the striking amber eyes had cut through the parallel alley to head me off, stepping out to block the exit.
I tried to dig my boots into the pavement to change direction, but the asphalt was still slick with last night's rain and covered in a fine layer of alley oil. My feet completely slid out from under me.
Seeing me lose my footing, the amber-eyed officer reached out to catch me before I hit the ground, but my forward momentum was too fast. We collided awkwardly mid-air his arms wrapping around my shoulders an attempt to absorb the impact, but the combined weight drove us both hard onto the concrete.
My head whipped back, cracking violently against the edge of the low brick wall lining the alley. A sickening snap echoed in my ears as my right wrist took the full, twisted force of the fall, pinned awkwardly beneath my body.
A blinding spike of agony flared through my arm and head. The world tilted violently, the gray morning sky spinning into a vortex of white noise and sharp pain.
"Shit—hold on!" the amber-eyed officer gasped, instantly shifting his weight off me and rolling onto his side. He reached over, carefully keeping his hands clear of my twisted arm. "Don't move! You slipped!"
I tried to draw a breath, but a wet, painful cough tore through my chest instead, sending another wave of agony through my skull. Black spots danced across my vision.
Through the blur, I heard heavy, rapid footsteps echoing down the alley. The tall, gray-eyed officer sprinted around the corner, dropping to his knees beside us in a split second.
"What happened?" the gray-eyed officer demanded, his voice tight with alarm as his large hands gently cupped the sides of my face, holding my head completely still.
"She tried to cut back, hit a slick patch, and went down I tried to catch her," the amber-eyed officer said quickly, his voice laced with genuine concern as he pulled out his radio. "Dispatch, we have a medical emergency in the alley off Fifth. Requesting an ambulance immediately—head trauma and a severe compound wrist fracture."
"I... I can take care of myself..." I choked out, my voice barely a whisper against the cold pavement.
"Shh, stay quiet, don't try to talk," the gray-eyed officer murmured softly, his thumb gently wiping a trace of rainwater or tears from my cheek. His sharp gray eyes were full of deep concern as he held me motionless. "You're hurt. Just stay still. We've got you."
The pain in my arm roared into a white-hot wall, and a thick, heavy darkness swarmed the edges of my vision. The gray-eyed officer's worried face was the last thing I saw before the world went completely black.
