by Vonna Harper
“I’m aware of that.”
“But emotion gets in your way. This is your brother we’re talking about.”
Hating Nate’s killer was easy, but his fellow cop was right. The D.A.’s office needed facts. A confession was even better, not that that was going to happen.
His hope was that with Lainey’s help, unwilling or not, he’d come up with something.
“Let’s go back to why we’re here,” Caleb said. “Where does Lainey factor in?”
An image of her formed in his mind. Naked and imprisoned thanks to him, she had every reason not to trust him. To hate and maybe fear him. At the same time she needed him almost as much as he needed her.
They’d become companions in an insane world.
“She’s sure her stepfather will force her to do something for reasons that’ll benefit him. Like you said, she’s good looking.”
“He’ll capitalize on that.”
Even though he’d already come to that conclusion, Caleb’s comment made him uneasy. He wondered if the other cop knew where she was and what he’d done to her. Whether he’d understand why.
“All right. Here’s where my thinking is going,” he said. “There’s a power struggle going on among the mafia’s upper echelon, right?”
“Right.”
“Ethan is going to want to throw his muscle around, impress anyone he believes needs impressing. Bring a fresh income stream into the organization. Get known for something other than drugs and extortion. Tap into more than addicts and those they can blackmail.”
“Like oral surgeons?” Caleb muttered.
“Yeah. Upper class, but with weaknesses like a gambling addiction.”
Caleb stared at something over Joe’s shoulder. “Or sex addicts.”
“I hadn’t given that much thought until I met Lainey,” he said. “And watched how Ethan looked at her. She’d appeal to someone who’s into the rough stuff. And if she doesn’t want it, so much the better.”
“Shit,” Caleb muttered. “That’s sick stuff. Dangerous for her.”
“Not me, her stepfather.”
“Bastard. Just the thought—shit, we’ve been trying to bring him and those like him down for years. Decades.”
“Why haven’t you been able to?”
“For one, mafia leaders can afford the best unethical lawyers in this part of the state. They’d rat out their mothers for enough money. Let their soldiers take the fall. There’s nothing I’d like better than to be able to break the mafia’s back, shove all of them in prison and throw away the key. But there’s no getting to them. I don’t know whether we’ll ever be able to.”
“So we go after their clients.”
“Right.”
Watching Caleb squeeze his beer with white-knuckled fingers, Joe concluded they had more in common than he’d considered. He didn’t know much about the other cop, but liked what he’d seen today. For the first time since he’d come to southern California, he didn’t feel alone.
“I don’t like this,” Caleb said. “What you’re doing.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Risking Lainey Stanfield’s life so you can avenge your brother’s death.”
“I won’t.”
“You can’t promise that. You have her at Korbin’s private place, right? That’s no damn spa. What’s your plan?”
“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I thought I did, but things—her safety comes first.”
“First? Before making Nate’s killer pay?”
Despite Caleb’s hard question, Joe didn’t take offense. He had to hear the words. “Both. At the same time.”
Lainey didn’t move until Joe was within inches of her cage. She’d been half awake, stretched out on the mattress and staring at the TV he’d set up just outside of her reach, but not sure what she was watching. She’d put on the men’s shirt he’d given her and had tried to tell herself it didn’t matter that it probably was his. At least it was long enough to cover her butt and sagged, doing a decent job of hiding her braless breasts. Unfortunately, it held his scent.
“What time is it?” she asked as she stood.
“Going on six. Why?”
“It’s hard keeping track of time—of anything.”
“I had work to do.”
“In contrast, I had nothing to do.” She held up her arms. “Maybe I should thank you for removing the cuffs.”
“Are you saying you—entertained yourself?”
“I didn’t, not that I need to say anything since I’m sure you had the camera on me.”
“I haven’t looked at it.”
As he sat in his recliner, she noted he hadn’t brought anything for her to eat. She’d gone through all but one of the water bottles and was hungry. She couldn’t think of anything to say. Maybe that’s what happened to people who went an entire day without seeing or talking to another human being.
“So you’re saying you had no desire to masturbate?”
Of course he’d want to talk about sex. “This morning’s quickie must have been all I needed.”
“We aren’t going to talk about that.”
“Fine. Whatever.”
Even though she was tired of the mattress, she settled back on it, careful to cover her crotch with the shirt’s hem since he hadn’t given her panties.
“How would you react if I took your necklace?”
Thrown off by the abrupt question, she stroked it. “Why would you?”
“Maybe because I can. It doesn’t do anything for your throat. It’s bulky, covers all that lovely skin.”
She kept touching it. “I don’t give a damn.”
“So you say. All right, let’s change things around. Are you sorry you’re no longer wearing the tail?”
Yes. “Of course not.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Grunting, he got up and unlocked the cage door. When he stepped back, she left her prison and walked to the window where a lowering sun was painting the clouds in spectacular colors. So the fog had lifted. She’d missed a whole day’s worth of sunlight—just like she’d missed many months of living while her body and mind healed.
“I think,” he said, “your actions this morning are a reflection of the stimulation the butt plug caused.”
“Oh you do, do you? And we’re talking about this why?”
“Several reasons.”
He was behind her, up close, his body calling hers. She hated it when that happened—almost as much as she craved the sensation. She wouldn’t tell him of course, but his absence had been the hardest part about all those lonely hours.
“The collar was your undoing. Your weakness, for lack of a better word.” He adjusted it so the ring was at the base of her throat. “It’s what got you here.”
The oversized shirt wasn’t nearly enough cover. It would take little for him to pull it aside. Then he’d have access to all of her.
As if he didn’t already.
“What was it like after the accident? Not just the physical element or the work on your teeth. You’d been an athlete, a jock. As good as they come with a chance to make a living off your physical skills. Then suddenly everything was gone.” He drew in a rough breath. “Just like Nate is no longer alive.”
She didn’t want to hurt for him or wish she knew more about what had happened to his brother. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sure you are. Unlike Ethan who doesn’t give a damn.”
Alert, she whirled and faced the big, hard, hurting man.
“Joe, I can’t go on like this. Waiting for you to fill in the empty spaces. You know everything about me while I—I need something. Understanding.”
“That’s why I’m here.” He planted his hands on her shoulders, the weight challenging her. His mouth was scant inches away. “So once you’d recovered enough that you were able to get around on your own, what did you do?”
Had she explained? She couldn’t remember—anything. Hating and fearing him had been easy, but he’d op
ened the door to who and what he was a little. Now she wanted everything.
“Considering all the physical therapy I’d had, I felt I had something to pass onto children who were going through the same kind of thing. It was—it was either that or self-destruct.”
“What do you mean?”
There was no escaping his grip or insistence on the truth. She didn’t want to try.
“You don’t understand what I’m getting at?” she asked. “Everything I took for granted had been taken from me. I was depressed. So depressed. But one day at a time I acknowledged that feeling sorry for myself wouldn’t get me anywhere. I was alive with countless years ahead. I had to do something worthwhile. What could be better than working with children? Helping them heal.”
“So that’s what going back to college is about?”
“Yes. Joe, I—yes.”
“Where does the choker factor in?”
She’d made a mistake by going to the window because now she couldn’t escape. “Maybe—I feel safe wearing it.”
When she faced him, she noted that his beautiful eyes had become huge. His hands remained on her shoulders.
“Go talk to a shrink,” she snapped. “If you need an explanation of why I’m the way I am, let them do it.”
“Did you?”
“I don’t owe you an explanation beyond what you’ve already gotten out of me.” She didn’t understand why she was throwing up barriers.
“It isn’t enough.”
“Fine. Anything to please you. I got so tired of people telling me to move on, to forget about my goal of becoming a professional athlete and—I don’t know—become a florist or something. It wasn’t easy.”
“Until you figured out that the world’s full of children in much worse shape. Children who could benefit from your experience. Your insight and understanding.”
Damn it, she didn’t want him to understand anything about her after all. Hoping she could keep her captor at emotional arms’ length, she slipped her fingers through the collar that masqueraded as a necklace.
“Why are we doing this?” she asked.
“Because I have to.” He drew her close. “You couldn’t go back to being the woman you once were. That door had closed. Slammed. It was easier to pretend you were a submissive with a master who told you what to do when. Who controlled your days. And nights.”
“Maybe.”
“No maybe.” He kept her close. “There’s nothing wrong with that mindset, but I believe you made a mistake by not letting anyone know what you were going through. Particularly your mother and the idiot who’d been driving the motorcycle.”
He knew her too well, maybe better than she knew herself.
“We’re going to eat,” he said abruptly. “I brought something but it needs to be put together and cooked. In the kitchen.”
Having something normal to do made her almost giddy. Still, she waited for him to direct her. She stood with her hands at her sides as he attached a leash to her collar then matched his pace until they were in a large, modern kitchen. A couple of grocery bags were on the counter.
“The makings for meatloaf,” he said. “I assume you know how to prep one.”
“I can cook, if that’s what you mean.”
“Are you an accomplished chef or serviceable?”
She chuckled. “Let me see what you brought. When I’m done you can decide.”
“I have high standards.”
“I don’t care about your damn standards.”
Careful not to back away, she waited for his reaction. It didn’t take long, a firm pulling down on the leash so she was bent over. Had she deliberately tested his patience?
“I’d rather not start with discipline,” he said, “because dealing with another spanking will distract you from what tonight’s about.”
“In other words, you expect me to act like a lap dog.”
“I don’t want an act.”
It wouldn’t be because she was already experiencing the heady sensation that came from turning herself over to him.
“I can’t put a meal together with this going on.” She fingered the taut leash.
“What if the stakes were higher? Like your life being in jeopardy?”
On edge, she struggled to meet his gaze. Fortunately, he let go so she could straighten. She studied his stern expression.
“I don’t understand what you’re getting at,” she admitted.
“You don’t have to know everything. Just do what I tell you to.”
“Why?”
Instead of handing her an explanation, he started pulling ingredients out of the bag. She opened cupboards and selected a mixing bowl and loaf pan. When he was done with his part of the project, he straddled a stool and watched as she mixed seasonings into the burger meat. Growing up with a mother who either made a great deal of money or was broke had made Lainey an expert when it came to what could be done with hamburger.
She’d put the raw meat in the oven and was looking for something to steam broccoli in when his cell rang. Frowning, he listened for the better part of a minute.
“I’ve got it,” he finally said. “Text me the address. I’ll work out the details ahead of time. Oh yes, we’ll be there. I just didn’t think the opportunity would come so soon.”
He placed the phone on the counter and stared at her.
“What?”
“The timeframe for action has changed. I need to figure out how to best go about this.”
Whatever the plans were, they involved her. Nervous, she fingered the necklace.
“Do you see yourself as a real submissive?” he asked.
“I don’t understand—”
“I’ll get back to that. First, its past time for you to understand what brought me here.”
Still holding onto the necklace, she leaned against the counter behind her. They made a strange pair, two people with maybe nothing in common brought together by something she couldn’t comprehend.
“I’ve mentioned my brother.”
“Nate. You told me he’s dead.”
“Not just dead. Murdered.”
“I’m sorry. I really am. But what does this have to do with me?”
“Don’t play stupid, damn it. What the hell do you think I’m talking about?”
His curses threw her off balance. Then she filled her lungs like she’d taught herself to do when the world became more than she could handle.
“Ethan,” she said.
“Yeah, Ethan.”
“You—have proof he killed your brother?”
“Not personally. He has his soldiers do his dirty work.”
I’m so very sorry. That explains a lot. “Shouldn’t you be going after them?”
“If I accomplish what I came here to, every one of them will get sucked into my net, but he’s who matters.”
She felt stupid, much as she had back when consciousness had slowly returned following her accident.
“I’m here because of him? You intend to use me to—what?”
“Get the truth out of him.”
The kitchen which had seemed expansive a moment ago closed in around her. The leash hung between her breasts and stroked her mons, adding to her difficulty in concentrating. Had he told her more than he intended to and if so, why?
“I need the help of someone who can get close to him,” he said after a telling silence. “He can’t suspect that person, has to feel superior to him or her.”
“You’re saying Ethan believes he’s smarter than me?”
“I’m hoping he underestimates you.”
She could let Joe know she was certain Ethan underestimated her, but she wasn’t about to reveal that until she had a better understanding of what Joe had in mind.
And even if she did, that didn’t mean she’d go along with his plan.
“Why do you suspect him? If it’s because you’ve tagged him as untrustworthy—”
“Do you trust him?”
“Of course I don’t.” Determined
to keep the conversation going, she hoisted herself onto the counter. The movement made the shirt ride higher on her thighs.
“Why not?”
Not sure how Joe had brought things to this point, she nevertheless decided to be honest. They both deserved that.
“I don’t know how he makes the kind of money he does. He has people doing things for him. He orders and they obey. Korbin Aldrich doesn’t have a problem being seen in his presence even though I don’t believe they have anything in common.”
“Korbin’s a mystery.”
Glad to know they’d come to the same conclusion about the billionaire, she nodded.
“If you had to put a label on how Ethan makes his money, what would it be?” Joe asked.
“Something illegal. Maybe gambling.” She stared at her hands resting in her lap. “Maybe drugs.”
“You’re getting there.”
In other words, Joe already knew the answer to his question. “Fine. Fine. All right, laugh if you want to, but I wonder if he’s involved with the mafia.”
“He’s more than involved. He is mafia.”
Her mouth sliding open and her nails digging into her thighs, she stared at him.
“Shit,” she whispered. “You’re sure? Wait, don’t—you wouldn’t have said what you did if you had any doubts.”
“I believe you’ve come to the same conclusion. You just didn’t want to admit it. After all, your mother married him.”
Feeling sick, she forced herself to stand. Her legs were unsteady, but she needed movement. More than that, she longed to punch Joe Risinger because he’d forced her to stop trying to delude herself.
“How does your brother’s murder factor in?” she asked, hoping to purge her mother from the conversation.
He groaned. “You’re going to do this, aren’t you? Shit. I can’t blame you.” Looking as if he’d aged twenty years, he groaned again. “I have to get through this without losing it, but it isn’t going to be easy. No questions or interruption. Just listen.”
If she did, she’d pay the price, not that she had any desire to push this complex, pain-driven man. When she scooted back, he studied what he could see of what was between her legs, challenging her to pretend he wasn’t. She didn’t try.
