Code Name_Redemption

by Natasza Waters

  Mattie watched the traffic lights flash by. “I’m not the type of person to judge someone’s choices, but do you think that lifestyle is what Greg needs?”

  “He needs a two by four across the back of his head.” Kayla blew out a breath and relaxed a little in the driver’s seat. She flashed a look at Mattie. “Listen, I can’t condone the lifestyle. Not with what I lived through. I don’t know why anyone would seek pain. It’s nuts. And from where I stand, I’ll be as judgmental as I damn well please after having the crap kicked out of me by the man who was supposed to love me.”

  She sat stiffly beside Kayla, not knowing what to say. Her roommate, Mary, would know what to do. She worked crisis cases all the time. “When Stuart asked me for a date, he admitted he was into BDSM. I told him I wasn’t.”

  “Obviously, you’re an intelligent woman.”

  All the homes in the area were worth millions of dollars. Living in this community meant Nina’s parents were well-to-do. Kayla slowed and turned into a driveway with a ten foot high wrought iron gate across the entrance.

  “Mattie, I know what Greg will say. And it’s the same for all of them. When men like Thane, Greg, the guys on the teams come home, it’s hard for them to adjust to civilian life. They’ve been running on high adrenaline sometimes for months. Live or die. Jacked-up on the mission, and for whatever twisted reason, they go to the clubs and use it as a stepping stone to come down off their deployments.” She turned in her seat and ran her hand through Sloane’s silky curls. “Thane may have gone to the clubs out of curiosity, but he’d never do it now. And I know why Greg does it.”

  “You do?”

  “Probably. Because he grew up in the same house as his brother. Saw what he saw. He was a victim as well, but he channeled his rage, and I’m guessing that’s where he lets it go.”

  “I see.” Mattie stared out the side window, her heart sinking. Greg hadn’t hurt her at all when they’d been together. Could he turn into his brother one day? Become violent?

  “I know what you’re thinking.” Kayla rested a hand over hers. “Greg is not like his brother. He never was.”

  Mattie blinked and faced her. “If you could do things all over again…would you? Would you pick Greg?”

  Kayla gazed out the window. “I asked myself that question a million times.” She shrugged. “I couldn’t answer it until I met Thane. I never would have left Canada if it wasn’t for Daniel. I would have never met Thane. I would never want to live through those years again that I spent with Daniel, but because I did, that bold, brazen Navy SEAL I married changed my life. Gave me life,” she said and checked on the kids. “After all these years, I guess my answer would have to be no.” Kayla hopped out of the car and pressed a button on a box attached to a soaring brick pillar.

  “Tonya, it’s Kayla.”

  “Oh my God, Kayla, what a surprise! Come in,” the voice returned from the call box.

  The stylish gates began to open and Kayla got back in the car. “The kids will be safe here.”

  “And what about us? We’re not staying?” Mattie asked, as they slowly drove down a weaving park-like drive toward a mansion.

  “No. We’ll say hello but we’re going to do some research of our own.” Kayla circled a massive oval garden and stopped in front of two looming front doors.

  “Where?”

  “The club Greg was talking about.”

  Mattie gulped, her throat restricting in fear. “What? I don’t want to go to one of those places.”

  “Neither do I, but there’s a killer there and he’s using the place to vent his angst between murders.”

  “How do you know that?”

  Kayla threw the car into park and shut off the ignition. One of the massive front doors swung open and a bright light shone from inside. A woman in her late fifties stepped onto the landing.

  “Because that lifestyle draws you in and never lets you go.”

  “I don’t think they’re all bad people,” Mattie argued. “Stuart, he isn’t…wasn’t bad.”

  “I don’t think they are either, but one in particular has gone off the rails.”

  She wanted to dissuade Kayla from the idea, but didn’t think she’d have a chance. They got out and met Nina’s mother, who instantly took Sloane and Adam and hugged them fiercely, then invited Kayla and Mattie inside.

  The house was amazing. Nina’s father, Lloyd, wasn’t home yet. Kayla had explained he was a surgeon with a busy practice.

  Kayla visited for an hour and Mattie was extremely impressed because she could talk without showing one drop of the anxiety. She also got the idea that Nina’s mom was like a second mother to her. They talked openly and easily together. They must have known each other for years. Tonya didn’t bat an eye when Kayla explained she was here visiting Greg. They all must have known each other.

  “Mattie, how do you know Kayla? I recognize you, by the way, from your column in the newspaper,” Tonya said.

  In the last month, she’d found out the hard way, she apparently couldn’t hide her inner thoughts from people. Channeling an easy going aura, she said, “We met through Greg.” Which was the truth.

  Tonya’s expression lit with a smile. “Are you saying you and Greg are seeing each other?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Kayla’s gaze drifted to her, and a slight rise of her brow made her revise her statement.

  “We met recently. We really haven’t spent a lot of time together because of my work.”

  Nina’s mom didn’t buy it for a second. “Kayla,” she said with a motherly tinge to her name. “The reason you’re here has nothing to do with the Victoria Ripper, does it?”

  Kayla gave her a cheeky smile. “What would make you say that?”

  Tonya tilted her head. “Because Greg’s last girlfriend was murdered and he was held for questioning.”

  Crap. Jig was up.

  “All a misunderstanding,” Kayla said without missing a beat.

  “I suppose I get to babysit these beautiful children.” Tonya hugged Sloane who sat in her lap.

  “Would you mind?”

  “Just so happens we have a spare room for children. I’ll feed them and put them to bed.”

  “Sure ya will. They’ll be sleeping in yours, I bet.”

  She chuckled and lifted Sloane, who sucked her thumb happily. “Probably, but I love when my grandchildren visit and my adopted grandchildren as well.”

  Kayla rose and kissed Tonya on the cheek. “We better get going.”

  “Love you, Kayla, dear.”

  “Love you too, Tonya. I don’t know what I would have done without you over the years.”

  Tonya waved to them as they got in the car.

  “She’s sweet,” Mattie said.

  “She’s an amazing lady, really. Then again, her daughter is my best friend.”

  “Kayla, I’m not sure we should go to this club. I don’t want to sound like a tight-ass, but people know me in this town. I don’t want to be associated with some BDSM club.”

  “I’m sure you don’t. I think these places have a strict policy about privacy, and I’m not even sure I can get us in.”

  Mattie doubted that big time and clutched her purse to her chest while her leg jiggled like a jackhammer on speed. “How do you even know where to go?”

  “Already texted Tasker, one of Greg’s team members. He told me where it was. Let’s get a quick bite to eat before we submerse ourselves in the world of submissives.”

  “Yeah, food works for me. Maybe I can get you drunk and convince you this is a bad idea.”

  Kayla started the car and the headlights shone against the broad-leafed bushes surrounding the drive. She shoved the gear shift into drive and turned a look across her shoulder to Mattie. “Doubt it.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  The cold brushed steel, shaped like a submissive’s collar, stung Greg’s palm when he gripped the door handle to the private club called Dark Angel. A waterfront estate situated on the south sid
e of Victoria, heavily treed for privacy, was a restored mansion looming with grandiose turn-of-the-century architecture.

  Before he opened the ornate front door, he said,” Take off your ring.”

  Austen blinked. “No fucking way.”

  “Take it off, man. We won’t attract anyone with you wearing a wedding band the size of a semi- truck tire rim.”

  Austen’s jaw flexed and his expression morphed to uncomfortable as he tugged the ring off his finger and stuffed it in his hip pocket.

  “How often do you come here?” Austen asked, following him inside.

  A woman greeted them in black lingerie as they entered the lavish dark lobby. She bowed her head and welcomed them as she took their coats.

  “I’d come here after deployments mostly, before I’d see Diana.” He paused. “And Kayla.”

  Austen gave him a curious look but didn’t ask any more questions, turning a surveying gaze on his surroundings. The Victorian décor with red velvet wallpaper and dark wood panelling announced what was to come inside the club. The place smelled like aftershave, smoke and exotic massage oil.

  “Are you a member?” the hostess asked, leading the way to a dark walnut counter.

  “Yes, I am, and I’ve brought a guest,” Greg said. “He’s family.” He pulled his membership card from his wallet and slid it onto the marble top.

  “Thank you.” She typed his name into a computer then placed a visitor’s questionnaire and pen to fill out the form. “He can sign this disclaimer.”

  Austen quickly scribbled his name and checked off the box that said Dom. Greg knew his other options were Sub or Switch. He couldn’t imagine Austen submitting to anyone nor switching roles between a Dom and a Sub.

  “Please, help yourself to drinks at the bar. Welcome, Master Greg, Master Thane.”

  “Thank you.” Greg turned the corner into the well-appointed lounge.

  The overhead lights were dim. Sconces with candles mounted every three feet offered a soft glow to the room. A band on the small stage played a lazy sounding jazz song to set the mood. Greg wandered to the bar and they both ordered a beer, then turned to view their surroundings.

  “Do you ever miss being single?” he asked.

  Austen coughed, choking on his beer. “You forget who I’m married to?”

  “Seriously.”

  “I am being serious.” Austen put his gaze on a couch tucked into a shallow alcove where two men were licking a woman in a leisurely build-up to bliss. Her body was perfection, and they apparently thought so too.

  Half the tables were occupied by guests; mostly men. Some with a woman kneeling by their side. Other guests watched the band and enjoyed their surroundings and a drink.

  “You don’t miss having variety in your life at all?”

  “You were with Kayla for a long time. Surprised you’d ask that.”

  Greg turned his head. “I wasn’t faithful. She didn’t expect me to be. Her guilt wouldn’t allow it.”

  “So you came here thinking you could separate your heart and your lust?”

  “Something like that, but you know that’s not the entire reason.”

  “If you’re talking about unwinding from a mission, maybe once or twice. But I never wanted another woman after Kayla and I shared the same bed.” Austen rested an elbow on the bar. “Where are you going with this anyway?”

  Greg saw two women with a bead on them. “Just want to make sure your loyalty is with Kayla, no matter what happens.”

  Austen caught on pretty fast and turned his head. “Oh, fuck,” he muttered.

  “We play the part or we leave.”

  Austen’s expression hardened. “I get it, LaPierre. But I won’t be breaking any vows to my wife. Keep that in mind.”

  Both women instantly kneeled in front of them when they were within a couple feet. They wore see-through silk tops and leather wraps around their waists, leaving little to the imagination.

  Austen looked uncomfortable for an instant, and then said, “Rise, ladies.”

  They both stood, their heads bowed. The tall redhead spoke first. “Can we show you around the club? You don’t look familiar.”

  Greg could appreciate the redhead’s beauty, but she didn’t do much to insight any desire in him. “I’m Greg, and this is Thane.”

  The redhead turned her eyes on him. They were rimmed in charcoal black liner and her ruby red plump lips tilted with a smile. “Are you interested in a particular scene?”

  “Sensation play,” he answered. “My brother is a Dom and enjoys bondage.”

  The blonde standing before Austen lifted her head and hungrily surveyed him. “My name is Sub Maria.”

  “I’m a switch,” the redhead greeted. “My name is Claire.”

  “Would you ladies like a drink?” Greg asked.

  They both nodded.

  Maria shifted slightly closer to Austen. “You can choose for us.”

  “Wine,” Greg said to the bartender waiting for them to order.

  Austen’s jaw clenched when Maria’s breast brushed against his bare arm as she leaned in to take her glass. Greg kept the chuckle under wraps. For a guy like Austen, who used to have the reputation he did in San Diego, the SEAL couldn’t hide a completely male response.

  “Familiar with this place and all the regulars?” Greg asked Claire.

  “Pretty much. I feel very comfortable here.”

  Austen normally had calm down in spades. Guess marriage made him soft, because he wasn’t saying a word.

  Claire took his hand. “May I lead the way, Master Greg? Until you’ve decided what you wish to participate in?”

  “Après vous, mademoiselle.”

  Maria smiled at Austen, but he kept his warrior face in place as they were led through the lounge and toward the rooms at the back of the mansion. Taking their first left, they entered a vast space with brocade gold curtains dripping down the walls. Windowless—customers could enjoy their surroundings and activities in private. Circular couches covered in deep red velvets alternating with plush white chairs were situated for visibility. Around the perimeter, ornate chest of drawers sported gels and handcuffs. In the center of the vaulted room, a very large bed held center stage with chains hanging from the ceiling.

  “This is the Voyeur Room,” he explained to Austen.

  Austen walked beside him. “Similar to the one in San Diego.”

  Maria’s fingers wrapped around Austen’s, and he gently removed them to lightly guide her with a hand at her back. Smooth move, Greg thought.

  She led them to an empty couch on the right side of the viewing area, smiling at the couples who touched each other and watched the ménage on the bed. The chainmaille belt around her hips clinked as she walked, the barely-there thread of fabric covering her sex meant to lure the man who would be her Dom.

  Greg ignored the scene on the bed and looked for a face he might remember. He’d visited the club on his way home the night he arrived from deployment. Why the hell hadn’t he gone home first and dropped off his Go Bag? Diana might still have ended up dead, but he wouldn’t have been dragged into the investigation. The positive side of the coin was that he’d met Mattie because he had been involved.

  Maria crossed her long, slender legs and pressed herself against Austen. “Voyeurism can wet the appetite, I find.”

  “That it can,” he agreed. He looked down at her, and she gave him a sweet smile.

  “I don’t belong to anyone,” she said. “I’m kind of new at this myself, but I find it freeing.” Her nipples peaked beneath the thin sheer of her costume. “I think you could do anything you want with me and I’d enjoy it.”

  Austen stood up. “Men’s room?”

  “I can show you,” Maria offered.

  “Nope, that’s fine. Just point me in the right direction.”

  Greg almost busted out laughing.

  “Then we’ll wait for you here,” Claire said.

  Maria remained silent, but pressed her body lightly against Greg
. Claire on his other side, did the same. He had enjoyed the freedom of no strings attached in this club many times, but it was mostly an outlet to get rid of the darkness and the drums of war.

  He blinked with shock, realizing he hadn’t heard the drums of his childhood abuse or war since he’d first seen Mattie in the pub.

  The rest of the audience watched as two men and one woman enjoyed their scene on the oversized bed. They had her bound, paddled her, licked and pinched her. The moans of ecstasy grew as they lost themselves in their play.

  “Maybe it would be better to have a more intimate room?” Maria finally spoke.

  “Think my brother would like to see it all.” He saw Austen returning. “Shall we?”

  The women showed them different rooms. Some were private and couldn’t be viewed. Others, like the impact play room where they ended the tour, finally gave him a face he recognized. A cop. Not the one who arrested him, but he’d been there when they’d come to his home and slapped cuffs on him then read him his rights.

  They inched their way into a group to watch as the cop had a woman tied to a St. George’s cross. His upper body slick with sweat. The woman moaned as he flogged her, then he kissed her tenderly between her legs. Both Claire and Maria became affected by the scene and shifted their feet as if needing release.

  “This way.” Claire motioned and strolled toward a dimly lit corridor.

  Greg stalled a little and said quietly, “That guy’s a cop. He was there when they arrested me.”

  Austen’s trained eye surveyed everything. “If there’s one, there might be more. Question is whether he’s part of the Dream Squad.”

  “Picture?”

  “Not without getting my ass kicked out of here.”

  They followed the women until they reached a door at the end of a hallway. Claire turned the knob and revealed a luxurious room with a large bed. Toys and peg boards with paddles and whips lined the walls. Gold and white finishes, reminiscent of a palace, with rugs laid over hardwood floors added an upper-crust feel to the room. A fire burned brightly in a fireplace with a chunky thick mantle and brick surround. Although large, it stirred intimacy and provided privacy.