Fallen Dom

by Lexxi James

  “No way,” he said, barely huffing or breaking a sweat. “I have to keep an eye on my gimpy zebra. Make sure no one feasts on her before I do. Besides, I’m dying to know what you’ve figured out.”

  What are you, a mind reader too? That would explain a few things.

  “What makes you think I’ve figured anything out?”

  “You came looking for me.”

  “Maybe I missed you.”

  “No doubt about that, kitten. But I get the sense you wanted to share something with me. Or bounce something off of me. If it’s the latter, fingers crossed it’s your breasts.”

  She laughed at the middle-school remark. “You’re right.”

  “It is your breasts? Yes! The fellas might be watching, but I know a little spot right behind those pines.” He nudged her elbow and winked.

  “Seriously, I’ve got something else to bounce off you.” Her voice trailed off.

  “Look, you can lay it on me. And that’s a standing invitation for your breasts too.”

  Kathryn stopped running, planting her hands on her hips and bending over slightly as she caught her breath. “What I’m about to say might sound crazy . . .”

  “Crazy sounds interesting,” he said, encouraging her to walk so she could cool down.

  As they strolled, her mind spun.

  “I was thinking about motive. The UMO would have no advantage. At all. But then I started to think of this like insider trading. When people know what’s going to happen to a stock before the rest of the world does, they can bet big and rake in the winnings. What if the UMO had their own insider trading?”

  Jake shook his head. “I’m not following.”

  “Bear with me. What if the UMO knew a soldier was having issues with their spouse. Some spouses will do almost anything to get out of their marriage.”

  “Okay, so they file for divorce.”

  “Yes, they file for divorce. But in some states, filing for divorce becomes a long, drawn-out process, extending to an exhaustive level if the service member deploys. Most courts will automatically freeze the proceedings. So, instead of filing for divorce, they—”

  He stopped dead in his tracks. “They take out a major life insurance policy and the soldier gets sent to a high-risk deployment. Everyone rolls the dice on the poor bastard dying.”

  “I don’t know for sure this is the situation. It’s just—”

  “A hunch. I know.”

  He stared off in the distance, turning away from her. She wrapped her arms around him from behind, hugging hard, and he stacked his warm hands over hers.

  “Kathryn, you’re hesitating again. Must be something you know I won’t want to hear.”

  Swallowing hard, she sighed. “Dominguez.”

  Releasing his hands, Jake tried to step away, but she held him tighter. His head tilted toward her, but his body didn’t move.

  His voice turned cold. “What did you find?”

  “Just his name. And a loose association. And . . .” She couldn't say the words. When his body tensed in her hold, she released him. “Jake—”

  “You’re right.” He took a few steps away. “I need a run. I’ll meet you back at the house.”

  Without another word, he dashed down a trail and into the thick cluster of trees, disappearing into the woods.

  Nineteen

  Where is he?

  The hours ticked by at a snail's pace since the team had left. Kathryn had long ago fixed dinner for the two of them, kept it warm, then finally wrapped everything up and put it away when Jake still hadn’t returned. The darkness of evening cast wave after wave of worry over her, crashing down stronger as the minutes ticked by.

  What if he’s hurt?

  Considering they were on a wooded hilltop in the middle of nowhere, anything was possible. She stepped out on the balcony, scanning the area. Except for twinkling city lights in the far-off distance, the grounds were pitch-black. She heard a faint howl.

  What the hell was that?

  Panicked, she headed into the house and straight to the garage.

  Going out after him in the dark woods is idiotic. Insane. And sure to make me the next meal for that howling chupacabra.

  But it was, without a doubt, her only choice.

  Deciding she needed a flashlight, she rummaged through the garage cabinets. When she came up empty, she cursed under her breath.

  I need something. A miner’s hat will do. Good grief, I’d settle for a flaming torch right now. And let’s add bread crumbs to the list.

  Finally, she came across something she could use.

  Good. A first aid kit.

  She grabbed it and continued to pilfer. The stainless-steel cabinets were fully stocked with supplies for cars, construction, and things that looked like mountain-climbing gear.

  “Jesus, how many ropes does a man need?”

  Spotting a pair of extreme-looking goggles, she grabbed them, turning them this way and that, then held them up to her eyes.

  Maybe these are night-vision goggles. How the hell do NVGs work?

  “They won’t work in the light.”

  Jake’s husky voice startled her and she whirled around, relieved when he caught the NVGs she’d dropped in her surprise.

  His eyes were hard and cold. His hands were covered in blood. And his tone was unmistakably dark.

  “What are you doing here, Kathryn?”

  Twenty

  An hour earlier

  Jake could have run several hours more, but not in the dark. And as soon as he slowed, they were there again—the litany of thoughts and emotions that terrified him.

  Anxiety.

  Anger.

  Hatred.

  Guilt.

  Mostly guilt.

  The woods seemed to darken, close in, and he stumbled to a stop and hung his head.

  I was right. All that time, I was fucking right. I know what she’s not saying. It's my fault. I should’ve taken the shot.

  His fists flew out, pounding the trunk of a mammoth tree. He landed blow after blow until he finally dropped to his knees. Everything went numb.

  He couldn’t see his hands. But deep down, he knew he’d done enough damage, because he couldn’t really feel them anymore. His hands. His mind. His heart.

  Relieved, he filled his lungs with air.

  His mind was blank, then rested.

  Better.

  He wasn’t sure how long he’d been there, and he didn’t care. In a strange wide-awake sleepwalk, he headed home. Toward the edge of the woods, he could see Kathryn. Looking out.

  Looking for me.

  His head dropped. With the glow of lights from the house, he could see the raw condition of his hands. Blankly, he stared at them. When he looked up again, she was gone.

  Jake entered the house, finding his cell on the kitchen counter next to Kathryn’s. As soon as he unlocked it, six messages from her lit the screen. He didn’t read them, just looked at the time.

  It’s late.

  When did I leave?

  Refocusing, he clicked over to the security system app. The last motion detected other than his was in the garage. Struggling to see the video feed, he blinked hard, his eyes burning from dryness.

  She seemed to be rummaging through the cabinets. Finding his stash of a few choice souvenirs from his life as a Dom.

  His temper flaring, he stalked into the garage. Devoid of feeling, he watched her fumble with his night-vision goggles.

  “They won’t work in the light.”

  She jolted and whipped around, dropping the NVGs, which he caught. A nudge of protectiveness surfaced at seeing her startle, and then it was gone.

  “What are you doing here, Kathryn?”

  Twenty-One

  Kathryn took a second, calming herself. “God, you scared me. I was trying to find something to help me see in the dark so I could find you. Make sure you were all right.” After an awkward moment locking eyes with his blank stare, she asked, “Are you? All right, I mean?”

&nb
sp; Her gaze fell to his hands. His knuckles were bloody and cut, swollen, and practically mangled. Reacting out of instinct, she tore open the first aid kit, setting it on a nearby workbench while she took one of his hands to assess the damage.

  He yanked it back. His voice lowered, darkening the words from his lips. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Go to bed.” He secured the goggles in the cabinet she’d taken them from and slammed the door, sending an echoing crack through the room.

  Stunned, she took a step back, determined to steady her nerves. Go to bed? What the hell?

  “As soon as I treat that hand. Then you can have all the space you want.” She reached for his hand again, and he swung it away, towering over her.

  “You need to go. Now, Kathryn.” His loud words trembled the air, dying down to an uncomfortable silence between them. Anguished, he looked away. “An angry Dom is dangerous.”

  “An angry Dom is dangerous?” she repeated, disbelief fueling her own emotions. “Well, Master Jake, right here, right now, I’m not your sub. And since you don’t want a nurse, even though you obviously need one, you’re right. I should go. Because if I’m not safe with you, you’ve just found my deal breaker.” Abandoning any hope of salvaging the situation, she raced away before the waterworks sprang free.

  Wiping her face, she unblurred her vision, but couldn't stop more tears from squeezing through.

  Keep it together. He’s not worth it. He’s just a . . . mistake. Another macho jerkoff masquerading as a nice guy.

  A moment later, she was back in her room, blindly shoving her belongings in her overnight bag as quickly as she could.

  “Goddammit,” she said with a huff. Her cell in hand, she gave it a blank stare.

  How can I call a Lyft? I don’t even know where the hell I am. There’s a gate, and a driveway eighty miles long.

  She scrolled back and forth, trying to figure out her next move. Her thumb stopped at the listing for Z. Wolff.

  Nothing beats making an impression on your boss like airing the mess of your dirty laundry.

  Everyone has relationship issues, right?

  Screw it.

  I’ll break the ice by calling him Zach.

  Her thumb hovered over his number, but she froze at the light knocking at her open door. She looked up, and there Jake stood, lurking like a vampire waiting to be invited in. She turned away.

  “You’re not safe out there,” he said, glancing at her bag as he stepped into her room.

  “Apparently, I’m not safe in here either, so it doesn’t really matter, does it?” Using the sleeve of her shirt, she wiped the wetness rolling down her cheeks.

  His hand landed lightly on her shoulder, shooting her to a whole new stratosphere of anger. Her sharp shrug pushed him away.

  “Don’t.” Her voice was stern, and louder than she’d intended. She stewed in the surreal irony. She hadn’t raised her voice in years. The last time was also because of him.

  Jake held his fist over the bed and opened it, dumping a cluster of key fobs. As far as she could tell, every vehicle in the garage was accounted for.

  “Take whatever you need. Or, if you’ll let me, you stay here and I’ll stay at your place. Or a hotel. I can’t be the reason something happens to you.”

  She turned her head away, not meeting his eyes. “Something we agree on.”

  Heading out, he paused briefly to say, “Good night, Kathryn.”

  Good-bye, Jake.

  Looking back at her cell, she knew what to do. She typed a quick text.

  KATHRYN: I need your help. Where am I? Address wise.

  Relieved to see bouncing bubbles, she waited for a reply. What came through didn’t help. Numbers. Letters. Little degree symbols.

  KATHRYN: What the hell is this?

  PACO: Coordinates. Jake’s place is off the grid. Intentionally. Pop those into Google Maps. Everything okay?

  No. God-awful. Everything’s shit and I've got to get out of here.

  KATHRYN: Yes. Fine. I appreciate it. Coffee’s on me next time you’re in town.

  She ended her text with a thumbs-up emoji for effect.

  PACO: It’s a date.

  She cut and pasted the coordinates into a new text.

  KATHRYN: It’s Kat. Need you. Meet me here. Now. Put coordinates in Google Maps. I’ll meet you at the gate.

  Zipping up her overnight bag, she didn’t wait for a reply. After perusing the assortment on her bed, she grabbed the keys to the truck. Making her way to the garage, she was grateful not to accidentally bump into Jake on the way out.

  Her heart in her throat, she zoomed out of the garage in the exact same truck she’d arrived in. At least, to the gate. The proximity trigger opened the gate as soon as she was within a few feet of it. She waited impatiently in the truck, so full of roiling emotions, she didn’t know how to feel.

  A car eventually rolled up, making her glad he’d taken as long as he did. She’d cried herself out and was ready to rock it with a man who was fun and free, and promised a good time wherever he went.

  Tossing her bag in the trunk and hopping in the front seat, she gave him a huge hug. “This girl needs a drink, and you’re the only man I want to see right now.”

  Julian smiled through his concerned expression, taking off as soon as her seat belt was secure. “Your emergency kit is in its usual place, Ms. Kat. You want to explain why you used your ICE name?”

  From under the seat, she pulled out a bag filled with mini bottles of assorted liquors. Without looking, she grabbed one, cracked open the cap, and downed its contents. “It was an emergency. In case of emergency, I need a wingman. I knew if you saw that name, you wouldn’t blow me off. No matter how hot your date was.”

  “Eh.” Julian shrugged. “He wasn’t that cute. And that’s a serious smoke signal, only to be used in dangerous situations. If you’ve killed someone, robbed a bank, or accidentally OD’d on buttercream frosting. That being said, you want to talk about it?”

  Another bottle in, she said, “Nope.” Followed by, “Shit!”

  “What?”

  “I left my laptop. Mr. Wolff just gave it to me, and I can’t ask him for another one. We have to turn around. Good news is I left the gate open.”

  “Done,” he said, flipping a U-turn and heading back.

  Kathryn entered the house with Julian on her heels. He trailed behind her, scanning the interior of the luxurious cabin, and huffed out an awe-filled, “Damn.”

  With a demanding motherly tone, she frowned at him as she said, “Don’t make noise and don’t get lost. I’ll be back in two seconds.”

  She raced upstairs, grabbed her laptop, and was back downstairs in two shakes. Frustrated that Julian had already wandered off, she texted him.

  “I’m up here,” he shouted down.

  Annoyed for a million different reasons, she blew a much bigger gasket when she realized he was in Jake’s room.

  I’m going to kill him.

  Her mental swearing stopped when she heard, “Kat!” Alarmed, she bolted upstairs.

  Julian hovered over Jake’s unconscious facedown body, doing a quick check before slowly rolling him over. She dropped beside him, helping to move Jake gently to his back. Checking his pulse, she stared at the distinct wrinkling of his lips.

  “Dehydrated.”

  Julian nodded. “Severely. But his hands—”

  “No, that’s not related to this.”

  He shot her a quizzical glance. “Drugs?”

  She paused, looking away. “I . . . don’t know.”

  His hand squeezed hers. “Hey, no judgment. Ambulance?”

  “No.”

  “Off the books, it is.” Quickly, he pulled his cell from his pocket and placed a call. “Jules and Kat need Thelma and Louise. We need whatever IV bags of saline you can grab. A starter kit. Pain meds, antibiotics, and a tox screen. And medical records for Jake—”

  “Jacob Russo,” Kathryn said.

  “Jake or Jacob Russo. I’m texting you some crazy bullshit
code, but if you put it in Google Maps, it’ll take you right to us. Just pass the truck and go up the hill.” He hung up. “They’re on their way.”

  “Thank you,” she said, not taking her eyes off Jake.

  Twenty-Two

  Groggy, Jake pried his eyes open when he heard a man sing, “Morning, sunshine.”

  Confused, he looked around. His room, he recognized. But the fully dressed man lying next to him wasn’t ringing a bell, though he seemed friendly enough. The man rolled toward him, propping his head lightly on his hand and speaking volumes with his glee-filled eyes.

  “Julian?” Jake mumbled. “What . . .” He looked down at himself, then the line leading up to a hanging bag of saline. “How long have I been out?”

  “Three days,” Julian said, and when Jake shot him a worried look, he rolled his eyes. “Fine. Ten hours. At least, from the time we found you.”

  “We? Kathryn.” Jake flung his hand to his face, suddenly noticing the fresh bandages. “Where is she?” he asked, now preoccupied with admiring the coverings of both hands.

  “Making a mess of your kitchen with Dana and Laurie.”

  Jake peeked below the blanket. “Julian?”

  “Yes?” he sang, his tone way too naughty for the occasion.

  “I’m naked.”

  “Yup.”

  “And clean.”

  “Right again.”

  With trepidation punctuated by a gulp, Jake had to ask, “You?” and then quickly added, “Not that I’m not grateful.”

  “Oh?” Julian scooted closer. “How grateful?”

  “Easy, tiger. Not that grateful.”

  Frowning, Julian hopped off the bed. “Too bad, because we all pitched in. Just four girls washing a tank.”

  Jake kept on his game face. It’s just medical. They’re professionals.