“Jesus Christ, are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Where was this?”
“A house in Englewood. But listen, Mag, he’s long gone by now. I got home a couple hours ago.”
Total silence, though after a length of it, I heard in the background Evie asking, “Is Ryn all right?”
“Yeah, baby, give us a minute,” I heard Mag answering. It took a few more seconds I imagined him climbing out of bed and moving away from Evie before he came back to me. “Let me get this straight, you waited two hours to call me after Cisco kidnapped you again?”
“I thought it’d be rude to call earlier.”
Mag said nothing.
“And anyway, it wasn’t that kind of kidnapping,” I told him.
“What kind of kidnapping was it?”
The kind where the bad guy, maybe not bad guy listened, played therapist, shared truths and generally was a pretty decent dude, notwithstanding the gun-to-the-head part, which wasn’t his fault.
“The friendly kind?” I asked as answer.
“Ryn—”
“Mag, he told me he didn’t kill Tony Crowley,” I declared. “He said he’s been framed.”
“Of course he said that shit, Ryn.”
“Well, call me crazy, but honestly, I believed him.”
Mag again said nothing, and I visualized him standing in the condo he shared with Evie working really hard not to call me crazy.
I lowered my voice like someone could hear me when I shared, “He says there are dirty cops behind this.”
“Fucking fuck,” Mag bit off.
Ohmigod.
“Are there dirty cops?” I asked hesitantly. “Do you know?”
“No, I don’t, but that shit is dark and even if there’s zero-point-one percent possibility it’s true, this is not good.”
“I thought the same thing,” I agreed. Then I went on, “He said the cop who got killed, Crowley, was getting close to something. He said Crowley was investigating the bad cops. Brett definitely shared it was a cop who killed him, though not which one. He also wanted me to be sure Hawk knew all of this. He wants you guys looking into it. But now I’m not thinking that’s a good idea.”
“Hawk isn’t in the practice of doing favors for felons.”
“Yeah,” I muttered.
“So, why are you the go-between on this?” he asked.
“Well, because we have a mutual acquaintance, I suppose. I didn’t…” I blew out a breath. “Okay, at first, I was freaked way the fuck out. But he was actually very cool and when it was all done, he gave me a…”
I couldn’t believe I was going to say my next like I couldn’t believe it was happening when it happened.
But it happened.
And when it happened, Brett proved he was good at it.
“Hug.”
“Christ,” Mag clipped.
“It was very strange, but it was also kinda nice because I’d had a really bad day,” I shared.
“Danny,” I heard Evie in the background. “What’s going on? Is everything okay with Ryn?”
“She’s fine, honey, let me get what I need from her and I’ll fill you in,” Mag said to Evie. Then to me, “You said the person who set this up was his attorney?”
“Yeah.”
“Privilege,” he muttered.
“You wanna go after him,” I deduced.
“Ryn, he’s kidnapped you, now twice, and Evie and the others once.”
It was about Evie.
Brett had kidnapped Evie and it had nearly sent Mag over the edge.
He didn’t care that Brett was innocent (maybe) of this (particular) crime.
He wanted him caught.
“Well, her name is Corinne Morton and I can send you her address,” I offered.
“I can find it,” he said. “Is that all?”
He wants me to say hey to your girlfriend from him.
“Yup.”
He paused then asked, “You sure you’re okay? You need us to come around?”
Such a good dude.
“I’ll call Evie later, set up some girl time. I haven’t seen her in a while. Catch her up with life. But other than that, all cool.”
“Sure?”
No.
But that wasn’t Mag’s sitch.
“Yeah,” I lied.
“You said you had a bad day.”
And there it was. More envy.
I mean, what guy heard that and remembered it and asked about it?
Mag did.
I wondered if Boone would.
I’d never find out.
But in the now, I had to rest in the knowledge that my friend had a guy like that.
So that was what I did.
“That was yesterday, today is today. And odds are slim I’ll get kidnapped again so it’s already destined to be better.”
“You wanna set something up with Evie now?” he asked.
“Later, babe,” I said. “I’m wiped. Danced last night. Then there was the semi-kidnapping. I need sleep.”
“Right, I’ll tell her you’ll call. May have some follow-up questions, Ryn. But if they come, I’ll wait until later to get in touch.”
“That’d be appreciated.”
“Later, Ryn.”
“Later, Mag. Tell Evie I said hello and give her a hug from me.”
“Done.”
We hung up and I studied my phone for a second before I set it on the charging pad on my nightstand.
Then I took my Taser with me when I got up to change into a nightie.
I also took my Taser with me when I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth.
And I still had my Taser with me when I returned to my bedroom, drew all the blinds, closed the door, turned on my fan (gotta have my white noise to sleep), got under the covers and pulled them up to my chin.
I knew sleep wasn’t going to come easy, so there was a lot of tossing and turning (all with my fingers clenched around the Taser).
But sooner than I would have imagined, I felt sleep overwhelming me.
This right when there was a great thundering at my front door.
I jerked awake, prickles forming over my skin, thoughts crashing through my head of Brett having more to impart or dirty cops thinking I knew something and coming after me, when I heard shouted, “Kathryn! Open this fucking door!”
Holy shit.
Boone.
I threw the covers back and absently took the Taser with me as I rushed out of my room and down the hall.
All while Boone kept pounding and shouting at me to open the door.
This only stopped when he heard the deadbolt go.
I opened the door.
“Jeez, Boone, I’ve got neigh—”
I got no more out because Boone rushed me.
I dropped the Taser, tripped over my feet while retreating, almost fell to my ass, and while I was righting myself, he twisted, slammed my door, locked it…
And then it was back to the rush and retreat.
This time, I stumbled over the edge of the rug in my living room, but I didn’t go down because Boone’s arm sliced around my waist and he hauled me to his body, into which I collided with a thud.
I didn’t get the chance to process how good Boone’s tall, hard body felt plastered to mine.
His face was in my face.
And he was pissed.
“You get kidnapped, Kathryn, the…fucking…instant you get free, you…fucking…call me,” he gritted.
“I-I don’t actually have your number,” I whispered.
“Fuck!” he barked in my face.
I stood trembling in his hold, staring at him by the light of dawn coming from around my living room shades, wondering how, in less than twenty-four hours, my life had gone completely insane.
When he said nothing, just glowered down at me, I assured, “I’m all right, Boone.”
“You know what it’s like to get a call from your brother that tells you he just had a firefight in the p
arking lot of Cherry Creek Shopping Center, the woman you want in your bed was in the line of fire, he had to stand down, and they took her?”
Oh man.
That was me in that parking lot prior to my last kidnapping by Cisco.
“No,” I answered.
“Not…” his face got even closer, “good.”
I could have guessed that, though I had to admit, I didn’t think about it.
Until now.
“And now he got to you again?” he asked.
“He had a message to relay.”
“I don’t give a fuck what he had,” he bit. “Email. Phone. Sky writing. Goddamn carrier pigeon. He does not corner you.”
“It’s over, Boone, and I’m okay. It wasn’t that bad.”
“There is not a single kidnapping that is not bad.”
Yesterday, I would agree with that statement.
Now, I could argue that because I was actually fighting liking Brett. He seemed pretty cool.
I did not share these thoughts with Boone.
“Do you get what’s happening here?” he asked.
“Well, he said that he didn’t kill that—”
I stopped speaking abruptly when his free hand came up, sifted into the back of my hair, and then gripped it.
I thought he had my total attention before.
But that grip on my hair sent electricity shooting from my roots to my toes with extra concentration between my legs, and I reckoned my eyes would start bleeding, he had so much of my attention.
“That’s not what I mean, Ryn,” he stated.
“What do you mean, Boone?” I whispered.
“Do you get…” His face got even closer. So close, the side of his nose slid down the side of mine and I could feel his breath on my lips. “…what is happening here?”
Okay.
Really.
I was a pretty tough chick.
But…
I give.
I could take no more.
I mean, how could this day get more whacked?
Or, as it was, a new day start this whacked?
“You’ve already been mean to me in the last twenty-four hours, Boone,” I told him in a weak voice. “I can hack a lot, but I ca—” unsurprisingly, that weak voice broke, but I pulled it together, “I can’t take any more.”
I watched and could swear I felt his lashes sweep down when he closed his eyes.
“I lost the kids.”
His eyes opened and his head moved back a smidge.
“What?” he asked.
“I confronted Angelica. She says she’s not going to let me see the kids anymore. I had her using me this morning. You up in my shit right after. Her taking the kids away from me after that. Work. Cisco. Now you again, totally pissed at me. I can’t. I’m tired. And I’m freaked out. And I just can’t. Not today. Not from you. Especially from you. No more.”
His fist loosened in my hair, but he didn’t let it go, so I felt my hair, and his knuckles, glide along my jaw.
It felt amazing.
God!
Didn’t he hear me?
I couldn’t take any more.
“You gotta go,” I said.
“Ryn, I’m seein’ you are not taking in what’s going on here.”
“You’re pissed at me again. And I can’t believe I have to point out that I didn’t kidnap me.”
“When did you call Mag?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe half an hour ago.”
“And where am I right now?”
I blinked, repeatedly, fast.
Oh.
“It sinks in,” he said softly.
“You told me you didn’t like me not twenty-four hours ago.”
“I was pissed at you not twenty-four hours ago,” he returned. “I want to take you out to dinner. I want to take you to my bed. And eventually, I wanna tie you to it. And I’m used to getting what I want.”
My toes curled.
My mind rebelled.
“You have a woman.”
“I’m seeing someone, and like I said, it isn’t exclusive. She sees other guys. She probably fucks other guys. That’s not my business because, again, we are not exclusive. And what I do isn’t her business either.”
Seriously?
He was just not getting that I could take no more.
“So…what? You want me to be the other woman?” I asked.
His head jerked.
“Thanks, Boone. That clears things up about how you feel about me. It’s all better now.”
He was back to speaking softly when he said, “That’s not what I meant.”
“You’re not getting it either,” I shared.
“I’m not getting what?”
“I don’t wanna be that to you.”
At that, for some reason, his beautifully formed lips twitched (don’t think I hadn’t noticed his lips, frequently), he dipped his head again, not as close as before, but close, and he said, “Ryn, sweetheart, we both know that’s a lie.”
“No, I mean, I don’t want to be the other woman. I don’t wanna be your spare piece of ass. I don’t want to vie with some other chick for your attention, with some vague hope I’ll win out in the end. I don’t want to wonder the last time your mouth was on hers when it’s on mine. Or when your dick was in her, when you’re inside me.”
“Ryn—”
“I want someone to be mine,” I stressed. “I really do. But before that, I want them to actually give a shit enough to work at winning me. Not making a passing attempt and then expect me to come to heel. I think you know I’m a sub, Boone. What I’m not is a doormat.”
He had nothing to say to that, he just stared down at me.
“And while we’re sharing,” I kept going, even though he wasn’t exactly sharing, at least not as deeply as I was about to, but to end this and maybe get some peace, I was going to. “I had two guys in my life for decent chunks of time, and they both ended up treating me like shit because I opened myself up to them and confided about my appetites. And they thought it was lame, or sick, or whatever they thought. What they made clear they thought is it gave them license to treat me like dirt. And I got hooked up with a shit Dom who ignored my safe word and took things too far and—”
“Stop,” he clipped.
“I’d like this, whatever it is, to be over, Boone. So let me say what I gotta say.”
“You had a Dom ignore your safe word?”
Okay.
Well, hell.
I was on such a roll, I forgot to pay attention to him.
With the feeling beating off him, and into me, I made note never to do that again.
“As you can see, I’m all right,” I assured.
“Name,” he grunted.
“What?”
I jumped when he suddenly thundered, “What’s his goddamn name, Ryn!”
For the first time ever, I touched him.
Curling my fingers around the side of his neck, I said quietly, “Calm down, Boone. I’m fine.”
“Give me his name, Kathryn, because if you don’t, I’ll find him anyway and be in an even worse mood.”
“Laszlo,” I muttered.
“Last name.”
“Boone—”
“Last name, Kathryn,” he clipped.
“Kovack.”
“Right,” he ground out.
Curiosity won over my need to end this torture, so I asked, “What are you gonna do to him?”
“He clearly didn’t have the proper training for the scene. So I’m gonna make sure he gets it.”
He wasn’t wrong about that first.
However.
“That’s not much detail.”
“That’s my way of saying you don’t wanna know, and you’re not gonna know, Ryn.”
I heard his tone, saw his face, and thus mumbled, “Gotcha.”
Honestly, I didn’t feel too badly about Laszlo catching Boone’s bad mood. Trust was paramount between Dom and sub. He didn’t break a rule ignoring m
y safe word. He broke the rule.
And he was probably still doing it to other unsuspecting girls like me.
Though I reckoned he wouldn’t after Boone got done with him.
“Can we be finished now?” I requested.
“No. Do you dance tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Do you dance tomorrow night?”
“No.”
“We’re going out to dinner tomorrow night.”
At this declaration, Brett’s words came to me, I’d start with saying yes when he asks you to go out with him.
But, I just…
Couldn’t.
“I can’t,” I told him.
“You got plans?”
“No, but—”
“Then we’re going out to dinner.”
“We’re not, Boone.”
“This dance is over, Kathryn.” He took his hand from my hair to curve his fingers around mine at his neck in order to make his point. “Are you not seein’ that?”
I tried to pull my hand free.
Boone didn’t let me.
“Let me go, Boone.”
“Ryn, baby—”
“I can’t do this,” I said.
“We’ll talk at dinner.”
“No, we won’t because we’re not having dinner.”
“Kathryn—”
“I can’t do this.”
He snapped his mouth shut so fast, I thought I heard his teeth clack.
I knew why.
I heard my tone.
It was like it was when I got Brett’s attention.
Small.
Defeated.
But worse.
A lot worse.
Because this wasn’t Brett I really needed to listen to me.
It was Boone.
“I liked those guys,” I whispered. “I wouldn’t have given them chunks of my life if I didn’t. And in the end, they treated me like trash.”
His fingers still around mine squeezed.
“My own father stood me up for the Kiwanis club father-daughter dance.”
His face softened.
Man.
Seriously.
That face?
I was totally at my end.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured.
“Or whatever club it was, I don’t even know because I didn’t really know my father because he wasn’t around often enough to get to know and that was his choice.”
“Ryn.”
“Bad Dom thought he could do whatever he wanted to me.”
“Ryn.”
“My brother’s an alcoholic. I lost him years ago. He let his wife go, his kids. He let me go, Boone. He didn’t just slip away. He let us go.”
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