Brie Surrenders her Heart (After Graduation, #8) (28 page)

“That is my intention, daughter. I will remain silent,” he replied, glancing at Sir briefly to emphasize his meaning.

Brie groaned inside. “Why did you come tonight, Dad? If all you’re going to do is make me feel bad and insult the man I love by ignoring him, what’s the point? You might as well have stayed home.”

“I came, daughter, because the man beside you insisted I was needed tonight. It seems obvious to us both that he was mistaken.”

“That’s not true! I’m glad Mr. Davis invited us,” Brie’s mother exclaimed, clutching her husband’s hand. She smiled at her daughter. “Sweetie, even though this is not the kind of premiere I ever dreamed I would be attending, I
want
to be here. You are everything to me.”

“Will you both stay to watch the film?” Brie pressed.

Her father growled. “Do you realize the sacrifice this is going to be for me as your father?” He stared at Brie harshly. “Do you?”

“No, Father. I can’t imagine,” she answered simply, biting back an ugly retort.

“I am going to be exposed to things a father should never have to witness. On top of that, I get to live with the knowledge that the rest of the world has seen it too. You are
my
daughter,
my
little girl.”

“I am the girl you raised to be an independent adult. If my happiness is important to you, then you no longer need to worry. I am not only happy, but content and successful. I am living my dream.”

“And my nightmare,” he mumbled under his breath.

“You know, Dad, I’m glad you’re going to watch my documentary. At least you won’t be able to make ignorant statements anymore.”

“We’re about to pull up,” the limo driver interrupted.

Brie looked out at the crazy amount of people crowding around the theater. “I never expected such a turnout for a documentary film,” she said in wonder. She was thrilled until she saw the protests sign.

Oh, no…

Sir saw them too. “Head up at all times, Brie. You are focused on me. No one else matters.”

She remembered a similar lesson in Russia. She closed her eyes and repeated to herself,
No one else matters.
When she opened her eyes, Brie felt a new sense of calm.

She told her parents, “Follow us, but
please
don’t speak to anyone. These people don’t need extra cannon fodder to use against me or my film.”

“Our lips are sealed,” her father replied, his expression hard and unwavering.

Her mother looked at the angry multitudes milling outside the car and panicked. “Brie, I don’t want them to hurt you!”

Sir assured her, “She’ll be fine, Mrs. Bennett.”

Sir then cradled Brie’s face in his hands and smiled. “Your moment has finally come, Brie. Embrace it with pride and confidence.” He kissed her deeply, right there in front of her father. The boldness of the gesture infused her with a rebellious self-confidence.

When the driver opened the door for them, angry shouts filled the vehicle. Sir made her parents go first. “Wait beside the car, and then follow behind us.”

Sir exited next. He stood up outside the limo and held his hand out to her. Brie took it and squeezed it hard, needing his courage.

“Slut!” was the first word to greet Brie as she emerged from the limo. She looked at Sir and smiled. If that was the best they could do, this was going to be easy.

She was enamored by the red carpet at her feet and the velvet ropes sectioning off each side. Hundreds of flashes went off as Sir held out his arm to escort her down the carpet.

Brie looked into the barrage of flashing lights and saw news cameras as well. Brie assumed the coverage would be a good thing, whether it was for the documentary or the protesters.

She was surprised to see Master Anderson standing just inside the ropes, and farther down, Master Coen as well. She wondered if they’d been asked to walk the red carpet as well, since both were mentioned in the film.

“Miss Bennett!” one of the reporters called out.

Sir led Brie over to the woman. She smiled at the reporter as she nervously played with the condors around her neck.

“Can you tell us why you created this documentary?”

“Certainly. I wanted people like me to have a better understanding of the D/s lifestyle.” She giggled. “To be honest, when I first learned about it I was pretty shocked. But through my training, I’ve come to understand the beauty and power that can come from it.”

“Beauty—I’ll say! Just look at these hunky men you worked with,” the reporter said, giving Sir a flirtatious wink.

Brie ignored her remark, and leaned towards the microphone. “I hope my documentary can open people’s minds and bring couples closer together.”

The reporter continued to flirt with him. “Closer is exactly where I’d like to be.”

Sir frowned and moved Brie on to the next reporter in line. He leaned down and whispered, “Well done. Keep it about the film.”

The male reporter she approached looked to be as old as her parents. Brie was already dreading his questions.

“Miss Bennett, this documentary is based on your own training. Is that correct?”

“Yes, it documents the six-week training I experienced at the Center.”

“Did you go into training with the intention of documenting it. or was submission something you wanted to become skilled at?”

“Great question!” she complimented, realizing she had a true reporter on her hands. “I joined the Center because I was curious about the lifestyle after receiving an invitation from the headmaster of the school.”

“When you say ‘headmaster’, you are speaking about the man standing beside you, Sir Thane Davis, and not the current headmaster of the school?”

It appeared that the man had done his homework. “That’s correct. Because I studied film, it only seemed natural for me to document my days as I lived them. After I got to know the other students, I asked them to add their experiences as well.”

“Would you say you are close to your fellow classmates?”

Brie looked farther down the red carpet and saw that both Mary and Lea were ahead of her, answering questions under the protection of Faelan and Tono.

She glanced back at the reporter. “Yes, I’m most definitely close to both. Although Mary and I have our differences, as you will see in the film, both ladies are exceptional friends.”

He surprised her with his next question. “Miss Bennett, do you feel this documentary may end up hurting the BDSM community in any way?” he asked.

It was a sobering thought. Brie frowned when she answered, “I certainly hope not. It’s my belief that knowledge is power. How can learning about something new and dispelling preconceived ideas be a bad thing?”

“We need to move on, Brie,” Sir informed her, guiding her forward.

The next young woman in line looked so eager to interview Brie that she wondered if the girl might secretly desire to become a submissive herself.

With a wide, virtuous smile, the reporter asked, “Miss Bennett, are you concerned at all about the negative message this film will give to millions of women?”

Brie was taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“Violence against women. The utter contempt of social standards. Girls whoring themselves out to the highest bidder. Women allowing themselves to be treated like sex objects, or worse—animals. Is that really the message you want to send out to impressionable young ladies?”

“What you are talking about are the preconceived notions I hope to dispel with this documentar—” Brie stopped midsentence. She found herself staring into the eyes of Sir’s mother, who was standing directly behind the reporter. Ruth wore a malicious grin on her perfect face.

From within the crowd a woman emerged, shouting, “Fucking whore!” The stranger threw something at Brie’s face.

It crashed into Brie’s skull when she tried to duck, the impact hard and painful. Sir immediately moved between her and the attacker, using his body to protect her as several people rushed up, pelting them with what she thought were rocks and shouting hateful words.

Time slowed down to a crawl for Brie. All the shouting and commotion became silent in the chaos. She glanced over and saw her father shouting angrily, but her mother stood frozen in place with a look of sheer panic.

Then Brie felt the ooze of blood from her forehead and down her cheek. She felt for the wound and was confused when she looked at her hand and saw yellow instead of red. A piece of eggshell that had been stuck to her hair fell to the crimson carpet at her feet.

Brie felt the sting of humiliation. Rocks would have been preferable.

Sir tightened his grip on her. “It’s going to be all right. Marquis Gray is taking care of it.”

She looked up and saw that a small army of staff members from the Training Center had descended upon the attackers and were ‘escorting’ them to police waiting nearby.

Now that the initial shock had passed, Brie was crushed by a wave of shame. She had just been egged in public and her beautiful dress was ruined. To make her humiliation complete, she heard the sound of hundreds of camera clicks. Brie pulled against Sir in the direction of the limousine, wanting to escape.

“No, babygirl,” he said firmly.

She looked up at her Master—her hair matted with yolk, the tears ready to fall.

Sir pulled the decorative handkerchief from his pocket and smiled charmingly as he cleaned the egg from her face. He did it with such tenderness that Brie momentarily forgot the world.

After he was satisfied, he stuffed the dirty handkerchief back in his pocket and lifted her chin to kiss her. The kiss infused her with courage, reminding her that nothing else mattered.

Brie whispered when he let go. “Only you, Sir.”

He nodded and held out his arm for her. She took a deep breath before holding up her head and smiling at the cameras.

Brie’s mother came up and blurted out, “Wait just a second.” She licked her fingers before rubbing them against Brie’s temple. It was an action that Brie had hated as a child—mother-spit used to clean her face—but tonight it took on emotional significance.

Her mother stood back and looked her over. “Yes, all better.”

“Thank you, Mom,” Brie whispered.

She gave Brie a tight squeeze before stepping back to stand with her father.

Brie looked back and saw her dad nonchalantly brushing eggshell off Sir’s shoulder. It was a simple gesture, but one that meant the world to Brie. It was the first sign of acceptance.

She mouthed the words, “Thanks, Dad.”

He gave her a brief smile and then wrapped his arm around her mother’s waist. “Shall we?”

They avoided the rest of the reporters, making their way directly into the theater. Brie could only imagine what the headlines would read in the morning.

“Why don’t we both freshen up, Brie,” Sir said. “Your father can wait here for you, should you have need.”

Brie liked the protective sound of that. She kissed her dad on the cheek before following her mom into the restroom. Although she had a dress polka-dotted with wet spots, Brie looked and felt tons better when her mother had finished cleaning her off.

Sir was standing beside her father, already waiting for her when the two emerged from the restroom.

“Beautiful,” he complimented, kissing the back of Brie’s hand tenderly.

“Well done, Marcy,” her father praised after looking Brie over. “It appears we were needed tonight, after all.”

Their small party was led to the reserved area, where she was greeted by Mr. Holloway, Lea and Mary. Lea rushed up to Brie, wanting to dish about what had happened outside, but Sir shook his head. “Tonight is about celebrating Brie’s achievement, Ms. Taylor.”

Lea reluctantly sat back down. “Can I at least tell a joke?”

Sir and Brie both answered, “No!”

Lea huffed and slouched in her seat. Tono gave her a gentle nudge.

She immediately sat up, her blooming blush coloring her ample chest a bright shade of red. “I’m sorry,” she whispered to Tono, loud enough for others to hear as the lights began to dim.

It made Brie giggle. Even without her jokes, Lea was good for a laugh.

Brie eagerly watched the audience and listened for their collective responses once the film started. She loved every giggle and chortle, but cherished even more the lustful gasps when Marquis and Lea filled the screen. She noticed several audience members swiping at their eyes when Mary confessed her feelings of brokenness. To Brie’s delight, as the credits rolled, the entire theater broke out in applause.

When the lights came back up, both Brie and Mr. Holloway were asked to stand and take a bow together. The theater roared with a second round of applause as people gave them a standing ovation.

Brie felt embarrassed by the focused attention and tried to sit back down, but Sir would not allow it. “This applause is for you. Accept it gracefully, Brie.”

She faced the audience again and smiled, but she knew the applause was for everyone involved in the film, not just her. Brie gestured for Lea and Mary to stand with her. Mr. Holloway did the same with the film crew. It felt right, all of them standing together as one.

Finally, she convinced Sir to stand up beside her. Brie laid her head against his shoulder with a smile so wide it hurt and a heart that was completely and utterly content.

…On the Way to the Theater