by Brandi Evans
From across the room, his cell phone blared, cutting him off in the nick of time. He set it to ‘Do Not Disturb’ mode, so only numbers saved as ‘Favorites’ would ring out, which meant this was work, or family related, and he had to answer.
He pressed a quick kiss to Raven’s forehead before pushing to his feet and hurrying across the room and grabbing his cell from where he’d dropped it on his club bag. His partner’s name shone on the caller ID
Carter clicked on. “Burkes.”
“Get your gear, partner. We gotta run.” Maddox sounded almost giddy.
“What’s going on? Judging by your voice, it’s good.” Which was a nice change of pace.
“It’s Katlyn. She’s fucking ready to testify against her piece of shit husband.”
“You’re kidding me!” Carter fought the urge to jump up and down like a kid who’d been given all-you-can-eat time at a candy buffet. They’d been trying to get Katlyn Harris to testify against her abusive husband for months. “She say what changed her mind?”
“No, but according to dispatch, the black eye and broken ribs speak for themselves.”
“That fucking bastard. Okay, I’ll meet you downstairs in five.” Carter cut the call, grabbed his bag, and dumped his gear on the mattress. “I hate to do this, Genny, but I—”
“Have to go. Yeah, I gathered that, professor.” She sat, tugging the sheets to keep herself covered, which was a damn shame.
He sat beside her. “It’s about a case. I wouldn’t leave you if it weren’t an emergency.”
“You don’t owe me an explanation, Carter.”
But didn’t he?
“Nonetheless, I’m giving you one.” When he’d pulled his button-down over his tank, he took her hands in his. “I seriously doubt I’ll get things wrapped up tonight. These things take a while, but as soon as I’m done, I’ll call you.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’m a big girl. I know what a one-night stand is. You don’t—”
“Is that what this is?”
She shrugged, but the disappointment on her face was more than a little obvious. She didn’t want this to be a one-night thing any more than he did.
“Genny, I’m going to call you,” he insisted then followed his words with a hard kiss. “Or would you prefer for me to text since it could be late or early morning, depending on how you look at it? I’m good either way.”
She perked up a bit. Sure, she tried to hide it by turning her face away. “You don’t have—”
“Call or text?” he insisted.
She finally smiled. “Dealer’s choice.”
“You got it.” He gathered her close for one last kiss, one hot and heavy enough to hold him over until he had her in his arms again.
By the time Raven crawled into bed, she’d feared her body was moments away from completely shutting down. After being nearly orgasmed into a coma, she’d had to return to the club floor. If Carter was leaving, Maddox would be leaving too, and she hadn’t wanted to leave the club without a bartender. While she could fill in downstairs at Ravenous, a BDSM-themed restaurant Masters Brock and Stephen also owned, the bartenders at Ravenous weren’t able to fill in at a full-fledged BDSM club. Talk about a shock.
For the first time since she’d taken the job, she’d found working on the floor weird. She’d spent most of her shift examining, not merely watching, the scenes playing out as someone within the lifestyle, and her list of things she suddenly wanted to experience with Carter was growing exponentially.
Her newfound fantasies had highjacked her ability to concentrate. She’d screwed up a record number of drink orders. One night with Carter, and she was becoming a blithering idiot—and they hadn’t even had sex yet.
What would sex with Master Carter be like?
Would she survive it?
She couldn’t stop her smile, which was something she hadn’t often done in this shit-hole of a house. Leave it to Carter—or the thought of him—to turn her normality upside down.
Her cell phone dinged, and she instantly tensed. It was probably her mom, calling from another phone to try and trick her into answering. She’d sensed Raven was having a moment of happiness and felt compelled to take a shit on it.
Raven checked the screen and smiled.
She swiped to open Carter’s message. Make it home okay?
Grinning, she typed back. Barely. You?
Unfortunately, not. Still at the precinct. I only have a few minutes, but I wanted to check in on you while I could.
That was so saccharine sweet she nearly cried—or possibly slipped into a diabetic coma. It had been so long since someone had checked in on her just to check in.
I’m curled up in bed, in the nick of time, too. My extra job really exhausted me tonight. My instructor is an absolute animal! ;-)
LOL. Poor girl. Do I need to flog someone for mistreating you? ;-)
You mean besides me? She typed the words and then immediately deleted them. Holy shitfire. Had she really been about to send that?
She stared at the screen for a long moment. Flogging was something she’d certainly added to her list, especially after being on the receiving end of the riding crop earlier. The way Carter had teased the leather end over her skin still made her wet.
Not to mention because of the tales Maddox had told her over the years. Oh, and after watching Brock use the flogger on Viv earlier.
The way she’d moaned.
The sexy gleam in the boss’ eyes as he’d circled her, flogger in hand.
The post-orgasmic kiss they’d shared.
Raven closed her eyes and hugged the phone to her chest, imagining taking Viv’s place, Carter taking Brock’s. She wanted to experience that kind of passion, but the idea of someone standing beside her with lethal-looking leather terrified her. True, she’d gotten a taste earlier with Carter, but a riding crop wasn’t as intimidating as a flogger.
Even with the crop, she’d had to fight her own brain the entire time. Well, maybe not the whole time. Once Carter had gotten her out of her own head, she’d lost herself, but a lifetime of not being able to trust had left its mark. Somehow, though, she’d managed to let Carter in. She’d trusted him for a moment in time. But could she continue to trust him?
Would he end up hurting her like everyone else had?
Was she brave enough to risk the possible heartache?
She took a deep breath, and her left thumb and right index finger flew over the touchscreen. You mean besides me? She pressed send and waited for what seemed like an eternity before he sent a reply.
That’s a dangerous thing to say to your Dom, pet. Unless, of course, you mean it.
I do mean it. She typed and then sent an immediate followup message. Mostly. I mean, I’m terrified just thinking about it, but then, I think about you using one on me, and I think… maybe. One day. What did you do to me in that dungeon, Carter Burkes?
Not near as much as I wanted to. Not by a long shot. And as much as I hate to cut our conversation short, Maddox is waving me over. Gotta run.
She hated cutting it short too, but it was probably better this way. She’d admitted too much as it was. What was one more text she’d regret in the morning?
Holding her breath, she started typing.
Chapter 5
Carter stopped cold in the middle of the precinct, gaze frozen on Raven’s last text.
Lunch at my place? Noonish?
As in away from the club. Away from the public spaces and dungeons. He didn’t do that anymore. Things got messy when they got personal. Outside the club, he was Detective Burkes. Inside the club, he was Master Carter. The simple act of texting Raven had crossed the line, but he’d done it anyway because—
He didn’t want to admit the because, but he had done it nonetheless. And he was already paying the price. Sharing a meal with Raven at her place was too intimate, in ways their time in the dungeon hadn’t been. Over lunch, they wouldn’t be Dom and sub; they’d be Carter and Raven.
No, the
y’d be Carter and Genny, which was a million times worse.
Shit.
He ran a palm over his face. If he said yes, it meant something he wasn’t sure he wanted. Yes, Genny was terrific, and he’d wanted her for a while, but want was physical. He’d wanted her with his dick. The rest of him had been somewhat neutral on the topic, but over the past week, something had changed.
It was time to put-up or shut-up.
No thinking, he typed a reply and hit send.
Make it one, and it’s a date.
He’d fucking gone and done it now.
“Burkes,” Maddox called from across the always-noisy room; the station was never quiet. “Get your ass in gear, will ya! We’ve got shit to do, man.”
Right. Time to put on his game face.
Sliding his phone into his back pocket as a new text message came through, he went to his partner. “I guess they finally gave you an answer?”
They referred to the gang at Warriors for Women, a powerhouse in the world of women’s rights. Globally, they championed female empowerment and protection on every level, from sex trafficking to child marriages, but on a local level, they had a vast underground network of operatives and shelters which specialized in getting battered women, children, and men out of harm’s way. They worked with local veterans’ organizations, retired cops, bikers, any group with the muscle to help provide protection to the vulnerable victims.
Maddox grinned. “Sure, as fuck did. They’re sending over a caseworker now. ETA thirty-ish minutes.”
“Hot damn.” The process was started.
In twenty-four hours, Katlyn would be so far underground a mole would have trouble finding her, which was precisely what she needed. Her husband was a unique brand of nasty, and with any luck, he’d have the pleasure of spending the next six months to a year of his life in prison, getting to be someone else’s punching bag for a change.
Abusive husbands never fared well in prison.
The reality of the situation, however, was that the asshole would likely only get probation, all the more reason to get Katlyn far, far away.
Carter turned to the interview room where they’d left Katlyn to rest. They’d gotten her a cot, a blanket, and a pillow. It wasn’t the Ritz, but she’d needed something. The pain meds she’d gotten at the hospital had been wearing off, and she’d had to take them again. She’d been fading in and out before the interview had finished, but they’d obtained enough to move forward with an arrest.
And as soon as they got a judge to sign off on the warrant, everything would surge into action. Warriors for Women would usher Katlyn off while Carter and Maddox brought her husband to the precinct. They’d have about forty-eight hours they could hold him before officially filing charges, which should give Katlyn and her caseworker plenty of time to get her underground and, hopefully, out of the state and out of his reach.
Maddox rested his hip on his desk and crossed his arms. “How’s Raven?”
“How’s Raven?” Carter crossed his arms, too and stared at his partner. “I’m not quite sure how to take that?”
“I wasn’t referring to how she was in bed if that helps?” The left side of Maddox’s lips curled. “You were over there texting her, and it’s three in the damn morning. I thought maybe something was up.”
“I wasn’t—” Fuck it, lying to Maddox didn’t work, never had. Carter shook his head. “How did you know I was talking to Raven?”
“You get this intense, almost horny look on your face whenever you’re thinking about, talking to, or pretty much contemplating anything remotely Raven.”
Fuck.
“I knew taking you to that class at Quantico on reading body language would turn around to bite me in the ass.”
Maddox chuckled. “So, I take it she’s working out well as your class assistant. Or can I drop the pretense now and just call her…” Maddox leaned close and lowered his voice “…your sub?”
But before Carter could think of a believable lie or talk his way out of answering the question, the interview room door opened, and Katlyn wobbled out. Apparently, the short nap had not done her much good.
Her blonde hair was a wispy mess around a face more battered than anyone’s should ever be. Her left eye was nearly swollen shut and surrounded by ugly blue-black bruises. The lip on the same side of her face was puffy and split; the cut had been deep enough to require a couple stitches. And then, there were all the classic signs of terror and exhaustion. The tightening of her jaw muscles, the squinting, the lip occlusion, continually lowering gaze, rubbing of her stiff neck. She was a bundle of negative emotions.
Maddox pushed to his full height, and the two men came alongside each other, shoulder to shoulder, as they took a few steps toward Katlyn. Neither got too close. They wanted to give her space so she didn’t feel boxed in and frightened all over again.
“How’re you doing?” Maddox asked, concern softening his voice.
“Is there anything we can get you?” Carter asked next.
She shook her head, and when she spoke, her voice held many characteristics of the proverbial church mouse. “I can’t sleep. My mind is…” She shook her head. “I don’t know what my mind is. I hate these stupid pain meds.”
Carter empathized. He’d been shot many, many years ago in the line of duty and had almost died. The pain meds had been a necessary evil. Don’t take them, and the pain made functioning impossible. Take them, and functioning was still impossible but for entirely different reasons. He didn’t like the disjointed euphoria they gave him. He liked control too much to ever give it up, especially to drugs.
“Can I get you some coffee?” Maddox offered. “It’s crappy police station coffee, but what it lacks in taste, it makes up for in strength.”
“Yeah. Coffee sounds nice.” But her voice was flat. A combination of shock and pain meds? She looked positively out of it.
“You want cream and sugar?” Maddox asked, taking a single step backward, in the direction of the break room.
She lifted her gaze and smiled meekly at Maddox. “Can I come too? I can’t stay still anymore. I need to move.”
“Of course.” Maddox flicked a glance at his partner.
Carter nodded. Yeah, he’d seen it too. Katlyn was an emotional time bomb, so they needed to make sure someone stayed with her 24/7 until she’d leveled out. This was a dangerous time, especially for women trying to escape a years-long abusive relationship. The physical abuse was torture, but often, the scars from the emotional abuse ran far deeper.
But before Maddox and Katlyn had taken more than a few steps, Maddox’s desk phone rang. Carter could see the profanities on his partner’s face as he walked back and grabbed the receiver.
“Detective Westbrook,” Maddox barked. More non-verbal cursing painted his features as he covered the receiver and mouthed, I’ve got to take this.
Carter nodded his understanding.
He and Katlyn walked to the break room in silence. She was clumsy on her feet, rocking side to side and often bumping into Carter, which was understandable. After the night she’d had, he was amazed she was on her feet at all. Ticking emotional time bomb or not, she was one damn strong woman.
When they reached the break room, he grabbed a Styrofoam cup from the stack beside the coffee machine and turned to her. “Cream or sugar? Or do you want to bypass the traditional condiments altogether and mix hot cocoa into your coffee? Add a splash of cream to the mix, and it makes this swill almost decent.”
The right side of her lips tilted up a smidgen “That sounds good to me.”
“Coming right up.”
He made hers, careful not to fill it fuller than her shaky grip could handle, and handed it to her before making himself and Maddox a cup, too. This stuff might be one level above sewer sludge, but he hadn’t been lying to Raven when he’d said he practically lived off coffee and PowerBars. Bad coffee kept him awake and fueled as well as Starbucks.
He turned back to her and found her folded into one of t
he black plastic chairs at the corner table. Her coffee sat on the table in front of her, cradled in her hands. Her expression made her look as if her mind was a million miles away, and a familiar wound in his heart began to ache.
Before he could stop it, his mind conjured an image from the past, of another woman sitting at another table. Same messy hair, same bruises, same frightened posture, same unceasing expression—same brand of asshole husband who’d been responsible for said injuries.
Carter saw Emily.
The only woman he’d ever loved.
Time might have lessened the burning hole in his heart her death had caused, but it most certainly hadn’t eliminated the pain. Not in the slightest. He was beginning to think he’d carry his heartache until the day he died, and if he were honest with himself, he deserved it. He’d failed Emily in the worst way possible.
His failure had ultimately been what pushed him to take the detective’s exam. Well, his failure and the junior detective who’d been assigned to Emily’s case—Maddox. Carter paid daily penance for letting Emily down by putting as many asshats and abusive husbands behind bars as he could, even if their cases weren’t assigned to him. He sought them out. It made for a busy way to live, but a life worth living was never easy.
“I thought I was supposed to be the one with the far-off looks tonight?” Katlyn said.
He forced out a laugh and dropped onto the seat beside her. “Sorry. My mind wandered there for a minute.”
She nodded understandingly. “My mind wanders a lot these days, especially when Jeff gets—”
Her voice cracked, and she took a sip of her drink. But she didn’t need to finish her sentence for him to know where she was headed. Victims of abuse often developed some form of dissociation as a means to distance themselves from the abuse they’ve suffered.
“I’m sorry, Katlyn,” he said. “Do you want to talk about it? I mean, person to person, not cop to victim?”
She closed her eyes. “I keep asking how things got to this point. He wasn’t abusive when we started dating, not even in the first several years after we got married. I mean, he always had a bit of a temper but nothing more than bouts of yelling. I keep trying to figure out what I did to—”
