Let's go take a look in Ginger's mind, shall we?
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Edward

I'm well aware of the fact that I'm being a total asshole this week. Every attempt at getting in touch with Isabella Swan ended in a rejection. She didn't add me on social media, didn't seem to be interested in sharing an email address on her dungeon's web site except for the booking and information address, and by Friday night, I am a total mess.

After a particularly trying week, I rush home for a shower and change of clothes before I head downtown to the fetish club. I'm wired and wound so tightly I think I'd shoot my load at anyone who so much as blows some air onto my balls. Fuck. No amount of jerking off seems to help me, either. It only makes it worse . The memory of her taste, her moans around me, and her silky, soaked pussy around my cock have me hard instantly, but somehow no number of self-induced orgasms seems to satisfy my hunger for her, and that needs to fucking change. I need to talk to her again; I need to get to know her.

By the time I get to the club, it's after ten and pitch black outside. There's a silhouette of a guy leaning against the outside wall, and I smile as I get closer.

"Just the man I'm looking for." I chuckle and light up a cigarette.

"Edward, hi." Jasper throws an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer to semi-whisper into my ear. "I heard you had a really nice time last week. To be honest, I wasn't expecting either one of you for another month. You know, until you've fucked all the frustration out of your systems."

I roll my eyes at his remark. Apparently, it's true what they say: as good as the Viper can keep a secret, her brother is as good for juicy gossip. Jasper's flair for the dramatic goes beyond his looks. He wants to know everything about everyone. Especially the dirty. I don't even blame him—there's almost always something saucy to talk about in our circles.

"We had a thorough, deep conversation," I start. Before I talk to him in more detail about it, I have to get him alone. It doesn't matter that we're outside. You never know who might be eavesdropping, and Havoc's past is not something I want to discuss in public.

"Mhm, deep, you say? She peg you already, sweet Sir Masen?" Jasper lets out a throaty chuckle that makes him cough, and as I take a deep drag from my cigarette, I go over my options.

"I need to talk to you."

"Oh? You okay, buddy?" It's like I've known this guy for years—like we've been friends forever. Jasper Hale's personality is oddly comforting—familiar in a way that I can't describe. He's one of those people who seems to get along with anyone.

"Yeah, I am… but there's something I need to discuss with you. In private." I smile.

I watch how Jasper untangles the chains around his neck—notice the new pendant that wasn't there last time, and I smirk. "Nice jewelry." I nod to the charm before I reach for it. It's a cat, a black one. He laughs and shakes his head. "What, kitten got your tongue, Master J?" I joke.

"Kitten got my balls, that's what."

Jasper leads me inside, back through the hallway and to his office, where I know he keeps his more discreet conversations. Nothing that happens here gets out; he told me as much last time. Jasper might be fond of stories, but he'll never go and dish on someone's secrets or insecurities.

"Scotch? Or are you planning on playing tonight?" he asks me. He's got his back to me, black linen shirt baggy and tucked into vintage, skinny lace-up leather pants that seem stitched around his legs—perfect fit.

"No, just unwinding after a fucked-up week." I sink down into a leather chair, playing with the buckles of my boots before Jasper hands me a crystal tumbler. The scotch smells rich and strong, just the way I like it.

"Talk to me, brother." He lifts his hair and ties it back with an elastic, crossing one leg over the other as he sinks down into the comfortable chair.

I scratch the back of my neck, not quite sure how to approach this. After all, he knows Havoc —his sister's best friend and business partner—and he barely knows me. "Do you know about what happened to her, to Havoc?"

Jasper takes a deep breath and pats his pockets. He lights up a cigarette even though he's got a no-smoking policy inside the club. I guess this subject makes the both of us antsy, and I follow his lead.

"She told you, or did you already know?" he asks me.

"One thing led to another. I was a fuckwad; she was a bitch…" I sigh.

"So, that led to her telling you the most traumatizing event that scarred her for life?" His eyes are still kind, still smiling, although the atmosphere in the room has shifted dramatically.

"No, she told me because I pushed her buttons, made her come, and… shit hit the fan. It's all my fault." I whine, my knuckles digging into my temple as I lean my elbow on the armrest.

"Did you seriously try to top Mistress Havoc?" Jasper arches a brow in my direction before he starts laughing maniacally. "Seriously, dude… Do you have a fucking death wish?" The chains around his neck dangle and sway as he leans forward, the tattoos on his chest visible through the lace-up detail of his shirt.

"Are you done mocking me, J?" I chuckle. "I mean, I tried topping from the bottom and ended up with a mouthful of pussy… not that I'm complaining."

"Edward, I read up on you and your adventures in New York. You're a Dom, tough as nails —great recommendations… I have to ask. Are you gonna sub for her?" His eyes bore into mine, and I don't know what to say.

"Jasper, I've never done this before. You know what it's like to take the lead, to feel the power dynamic soar when Dom meets sub and sparks fly. Fuck, you fucking know how addictive it is. But…" I sigh, feeling like a little puppy. "There's this thing between us that I can't explain."

"Coup de foudre, my friend."

I almost choke on my drink.

"I'm not in love with her, Jasper. Come on."

"Why are you here, Edward?" he asks. "Really." He licks his lips, analyzing me as if he's some kind of shrink to the kinksters of Boston. Shit, he probably is.

"I want to try, J. I need to try in order to earn her trust. Because those few minutes where she gave up control were pure magic." I feel my heart race at the recollection of that memory.

Jasper's blue eyes grow wide, their color only highlighted by the dark liner around his lash line. "You're fucking with me, aren't you?" The ashes of his cigarette drop onto the leather that covers his thigh, but he doesn't even bother cleaning it up. "What happened? I need a play-by-play."

"It was going so well, before she got triggered. I must've done something to set off a giant panic attack because one second, she was fine; she was green. Next, my thighs are bleeding and she's on the fucking floor."

"Did you hurt her?" Jaspers asks right away. It's like he is about to tackle me and strap me to his whipping bench. I get it, they're close—practically family.

"No, no, no. Nothing like that, J. I just grabbed her tits as she sucked me off… I don't have the kind of nails she has, so I doubt it even hurt her. I certainly didn't harm her —you know?"

"Yeah, you might not have, but Bella is extremely sensitive to it nowadays. It's one of the reasons she refuses to sub again. Hell, she won't even switch because she doesn't trust anyone besides my sister."

"Havoc scened with Rosalie?" I wonder, brows knitting together.

"Rose insisted that she get back in the saddle after the ah…accident. But she couldn't even stand the feeling of cuffs around her wrists, not even the baby sub ones that are all tacky and fluffy."

"Shit, man. It's even worse than I thought."

"I don't tell a soul what happens here, but I guess you're invested in her… and since she told you about her past herself, I might as well. She loves being in subspace; she loves getting aftercare. Bella misses the feeling of belonging to someone sometimes, but it's so much deeper than just what she wants. She closed off that portion of herself, and she threw herself into education and all the techniques. I swear, she's the part of the best Domme-team I know. She's got classic schooling; she's smart and she gets both sides—sub and Dominatrix. It's why they're almost always fully booked, why Rose and Bella have waiting lists and Dominants in training."

"She made a business out of the thing that almost killed her." I mutter. It's like everything finally snaps together. I can see it so clearly now, and feel so ashamed of my actions. I've been a fool—shallow, solely focussed on my own needs that I neglected those of Isabella Swan.

"Because she doesn't want to be like Marcus. Because she is terrified of making mistakes. She legit won't allow herself to make any. That's why everything is so important to her: her status, her image, her dungeon. She even takes on the training portion because Bella would rather die than have a badly educated Dominant traumatize a submissive."

"Fuck…" I breathe.

"You want her to trust you?" he asks. I nod and take a sip of my drink. "You want to switch for Havoc, my friend?"

"I wanna try."

"That's all I need to know. Let me introduce you to some of my best friends." Jasper gets up and throws the filter of his cigarette into the rest of his drink before he leads me back to the club. "I'm sure they can help you with the struggles, as can I." I smile at my new friend, feeling supported instead of judged. I'm ready to learn the way Havoc has, to dive into the deep end and surprise even myself.

I owe it to Havoc to try. After all, she tried for me, too.