Austen entered, but stopped near the door. Both girls slid onto the bed. They removed their sheer tops and dropped them in a fluttery release with their fingers.
He and Austen shot a glance at one another. Greg knew what was expected to happen next, and Austen did too.
The meaning in Austen’s polar-blue eyes snapped with intention. I’m going to kill you when this is over.
* * * *
Mattie put her palm on the front door of the Dark Angel before Kayla could open it. “Wait a second.”
“Nothing happens in these places unless you want it to happen. It’s not like they’re gonna drag you kicking and screaming to a cross. Let’s go.”
“How come you’re not scared? I mean, how can you just dive in here and pretend it’s okay? You hate this stuff. You were abused. I don’t get it.”
“I hate the thought of sexual domination and abuse. But the people in here go because it’s their lifestyle, their life, their choice.”
“Well, I hate to tell ya, but your husband seems like an alpha kind of guy.”
“He is. Thane could take a life without blinking an eye, it was his job as a Special Forces operator. Now, he’s a bureaucrat. He hates it, but he did it for me and the children.”
“You mean he’d rather be killing people?”
“The enemy, Mattie. He killed the enemy. And so does Greg. Each of them held up their promise to protect Canada and the US. Only the best make the cut. They are alphas by nature.”
“They still murdered people.”
Kayla sighed. “Listen, I’m not going to argue with a pacifist. If you’ve never lived in a Middle Eastern country and seen what I’ve seen, you won’t understand. I can’t explain it to you.”
“I’m a journalist. I’ve seen it, but I don’t believe in war.”
Kayla leaned closer, her eyes cold and dark. “Then you’ll never understand Greg, and he needs someone to understand him. Someone to trust him, not change him.”
Mattie’s gaze dropped to the gardens lining the walkway, feeling as if she’d been balled out by a big sister.
“Listen, most women can’t resist Greg. If you like him, and I think you do, than you have to know that these men, men like my husband, have two sides. They can turn off what they use to survive when they’re working, but it’s just off. Not gone. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Mattie slowly shook her head. “To be honest. No. I grew up surrounded by the police force, but they’re different.”
“Very,” Kayla agreed. “We’re going inside because we’re following a clue, not handing out flyers to visitors in this club to give up what they think they need from a place like this.”
“What do you expect to find in here?”
“I’m hoping we’re going to catch a murderer.”
Mattie jerked with understanding. “Holy shit, you want to attract the Ripper. You think he’s here.”
“I think he has been here. Whether he’s here tonight is yet to be seen.”
“Oh my God, are you crazy? You have children.”
“I’m also a woman who was beaten for ten years by her husband and too stupid to leave him. You’re here because the women who were murdered deserve to be vindicated. That will only happen if you catch him.”
“How’re we going to do this?”
“We’re going to separate and you’re going to watch for a familiar face, especially one that might belong to the Dream Squad. I don’t know what they look like.”
“Okay. Okay.” She clenched her hands and pretended she’d found a little nerve to go through with this. “We’ll try. One hour. If I don’t recognize anyone, we get out of here. But the first question is, how do we get in?”
Kayla turned on her heel as footsteps came up the walk behind them. Two men in suits, somewhere in their late-thirties, approached.
“Evening, ladies.” They stopped. “Are you going in?”
The blond raked an interested look over Kayla. The other man was dark and dangerous looking. Very tall and domineering. Mattie noticed his eyes. A brilliant green. Not as amazing as Greg’s but very similar. His square jaw and features made her take a second look. His gaze bore into hers and she cleared her throat.
“We’re considering it,” Kayla said and smiled sweetly. “We’ve never been before and we thought we’d come together for a little support.”
The blond’s friend kept watching Mattie. His hair was a little longer in style. The light above the entrance shone down on him, highlighting the silky black strands.
Withering on the spot from his intense survey seemed wrong, but suddenly one side of his full lips tilted in a smile. “You look terrified,” he said, his voice a mix of smoke and gravelly hues.
“No, I…uh. Are you a regular? Visitor?” She offered a toothy smile. “Guess I’m a little nervous.”
His handsome features not hard to look at. “The club likes to have fresh faces.”
“Are…are you a—” She cleared her throat. “A Dom?”
He nodded. “You look familiar for some reason.”
Oh shit. “Who me? No. Just a local girl. You?”
“Visiting. I’m American, but I drop by when I get a chance.” He tilted his head. “Join me.” He held out his crooked elbow and she hesitantly accepted it.
“We can bring a guest,” the blond announced to Kayla.
“I accept,” she said boldly. “I’m Kayla.”
“Alexander,” the blond said opening the door and leading the way.
Mattie felt like a total fish out of water. The lobby, although dark, reminded her of an upscale hotel. A paper was shoved under her nose and she read it. No way she’d write her real name down and made one up, checked off a box asking her preference—and hers was undecided. Thank god for multiple questions.
They joined the men at a table in a large room that blew her mind. It looked Victorian, muted reds and couches everywhere, where customers were doing things on them. Very sexual things. Women kneeled in front of men, some of them wearing collars. Hell, no way. If somebody tried to lock a collar on her, she’d knock them out cold. Some of the guests wore clothes, some scantily clad.
Her escort, who’d introduced himself as Brett, expected her name in return. She gave him a false one when he placed a cranberry martini in front of her.
“So, Suzanne, what are you expecting from this experience?”
Kayla was totally into her role. Asking Alexander questions. Looking eager. Mattie needed some valium to calm her nerves.
“I don’t know, Brett. Why don’t you show me around?” She chugged back her martini in one swallow, and he broke into a warm laugh.
“Little nervous, huh? That’s sweet.”
“Yeah, sweet. Think we could have another one for the road?”
He laughed again. “Sure, follow me.”
She did, and wondered if following his instructions was her first step on a slippery slope into becoming a Sub. Mattie gladly accepted the second drink and intended on taking it easier this time.
Her drink gone in two gulps, she asked, “Do you live in Washington State?”
His intense gaze made her shift closer. A woman could easily place her trust in his muscled physique. But more than that, there was a sense of immediate ownership when he looked at her.
“I’ve lived in a lot of places. But Washington is my home for now.”
“A traveller?”
“Captain.”
Mattie lowered her glass to the counter of the bar. “What kind? Are you in the military?”
“Started there, but I switched to the Merchant Marine industry. Found I was better giving orders than taking them.” Brett paused and raised his finger toward the bartender for another drink. “And you?”
She shrugged. “Nothing spectacular. An admin assistant for a lawyer,” she lied.
“And your friend talked you into coming here tonight.”
He gently turned her in the rotating stool. The alcohol helped to ward off her jitter
s under his scrutiny and penetrating gaze. “That obvious?”
Brett leaned forward, and she stilled like a nervous deer. He slid his hand to the back of Mattie’s head and released her ponytail, loosening her hair to lay across her shoulder. “No one will lay a hand on you here without your consent. Not only is it against house rules, but especially with me by your side.” He slowly pinched each stem of her eyeglasses and removed them from her face. She stuffed them in a holder and into her purse. “I’m intrigued. You have a raw seductive air about you.”
“Thank you, I think, but I’m not sure this lifestyle is for me.” She turned her head to gaze over the room. His finger pressed on her chin, guiding her attention back to him.
“It’s not a lifestyle. It’s trust,” he said, his voice warm and gravelly, like syrup drizzled over pancakes. “It grows as we become more familiar with each other.”
After adding a third drink in her belly, she couldn’t believe her mouth was so dry. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
He put his hand to the hollow of her back. “This way. If anything intrigues you,” he gently swiped her hair from her shoulder, fingers sliding down her arm sending goosebumps to the surface, “feel free to stop and tell me.”
She saw it all. No doubt about it. Men with men. Women with women. Ménages. Women tied up, trussed up, coiled up. She tried to systematically view every man. Looking for someone she knew from the task force.
“What’s down that hallway?” Mattie asked.
“Those are private rooms for intimate scenes.”
“So we can’t look?”
Brett grinned. “I’m starting to think you like the idea of voyeurism.” His arm curled around her waist. “If you want to play, we can start you off slowly.” His heated gaze nearly scorched her skin.
“Wooo, umm, I’d like to check on my friend.”
“She might already be engaged.”
“Maybe.” Not likely Mattie thought to herself.
“I’ll meet you back here in a few. I’ll see if any of the rooms are free.”
“Okay, sure. Do that.”
As soon as he was gone, Mattie darted for the corridor they hadn’t investigated. She peered inside every room she could through a small window. Sometimes it took a second before the guy would turn around.
She quickly made her way to the end of the hall and peered inside. Two women kneeled on a bed. Naked except for some shiny bling around their hips. Their heads were bowed. Mattie stretched her neck to the left and right but couldn’t see any men. Maybe this was just a girl thing.
Then her pulse roared.
A man stepped in front of her view. She knew his muscular frame. Greg! He still had his clothes on. She suddenly wasn’t sure if she wanted to see him naked or dressed, but she’d lean toward naked if he was leaning over her.
A hand covered her mouth and jerked her backwards. Mattie kicked and squirmed. Using her fingernails, she scratched his arms, fighting for freedom against his strength.
He half-carried her down the hall, opened one of the doors and thrust her inside. She tripped and landed on all fours, but quickly scrambled to her feet when the door closed with a thunk and the lock snicked shut.
A cold sweat coated her skin when she looked up to see Sergeant Raine Montgomery standing in the same room as her.
Chapter Twenty-two
Trapped with two nearly naked women waiting for him and Austen to get their kink started, Greg wasn’t sure what the hell to do. He heard a woman cry out through the walls. Not an uncommon sound in a place like this.
A commotion in the hallway followed with someone yelling. The sound of doors opening and closing got closer to them. Both he and Austen exchanged a glance until their door was thrust open.
“Well this is a fine fucking sight.” Kayla grilled him with a look that should have left Austen smoking on the spot. She glanced first at the women on the bed then at Greg, as if every world problem was his fault.
“Kayla, what the hell?” Austen bee-lined for his wife.
“Where is Mattie?”
“What are you talking about?” Greg said, forgetting the women on the bed and glowering at Kayla. What the hell was she doing here?
“Where is she? Brett left her here in the hallway.”
“Who the fuck is Brett?” Greg joined her and Austen.
“And who the fuck are you?” the Admiral growled at a guy lingering in the hall behind Kayla.
“That’s Alexander.” She turned tail and opened each door in the hallway, apologized to the occupants then slammed the door shut. She ran back down the hallway and turned the knob on a door farthest away. “This door is locked and I can’t see inside. Open up.” She hammered her fist on the door.
No one answered.
“Greg?” she yelped.
Both he and Austen ran down the hall. He scanned the door made of two-inch thick walnut like all the other doors. The locks were constructed of wrought iron and couldn’t be breached. “You think Mattie’s in here?”
“Yes.” She banged on the door again.
Greg’s heart beat hard. “With who?”
“I don’t know. Maybe Brett. Maybe someone else.”
“The doors are two inches thick. We can’t break it down.” He tried the handle himself and banged on the wood. “Open the door.”
Kayla turned to the blond guy who’d hung back. “Alexander, we need in here right now. Right fucking now,” she said, losing her cool.
The guy nodded. “Okay, I’ll get the host. Hang on.”
“Get the goddamn master key,” she cried. She hammered on the door. “Stop. Please stop.”
Under a minute later a woman came running around the corner. “What’s going on here?”
Kayla grabbed the woman’s wrist and yanked her closer. “My friend. I think she’s in this room against her will.”
The tall blonde in black leathers and a long ponytail inserted a key into the lock.
When the door opened, Greg felt his temper fire into a rage. Austen grabbed him and held him back.
“Stop. Think,” Austen said harshly under his breath. “Kayla, stay here.” But of course, she didn’t listen.
Greg fought Austen to release him. “Get the fuck away from her.”
Mattie lay on her stomach tied to a saddle. Her dress had been removed, tossed onto the four poster bed and the guy had stuffed a ball in her mouth. Her body draped as if she wasn’t conscious, and the big, badass looking bastard who’d taken him into custody for Diana’s murder stood behind her as if ready to throw down his zipper and sink his dick inside her.
“One fucking move, I’ll kill you.” He jerked in Austen’s grip, but he held him fast.
The cop turned cold piercing eyes toward him. As big as him or Austen, his bare chest displayed a man who worked out a lot with weights.
Kayla fell to her knees and brushed the hair from Mattie’s face and released the ball from her mouth.
The guy looked toward the hostess. “I need a minute with these people.”
The girl didn’t argue. “Yes, Sergeant.” She gripped the door, yanking it closed behind her.
“Get your shit together, LaPierre,” Austen whispered next to his ear, releasing him slowly.
The Sergeant turned and picked up his shirt, and then a gun belt, slipping the gun from its holster. He pointed it at Mattie’s head.
Greg and Austen went stalk still.
“Which one?” he said, his voice as gravelly as Greg remembered.
The guy changed his aim and pointed it at Kayla. Austen took a step toward him. Fire couldn’t touch the heat in his glare.
“Last fucking thing you’ll ever do. Cop or not, you won’t leave this room alive,” Austen said never breaking eye contact.
The Sergeant offered them a seedy smile. “Don’t think I could get away with it?”
“Not unless you killed all of us,” Greg said. The tension in the room so thick, he couldn’t breathe. “Kill Mattie, then try explaining what you were doi
ng in a club with her tied without her consent. The same woman who’s chasing down the Victoria Ripper. Won’t take long to put the two together.”
“You think I’m the Ripper.” He coughed out a low chuckle.
Greg took a step closer. “Are you?”
“I’m a police officer. Twenty years. Decorated. Accolades out my ass. You think I would slaughter women?”
The girls were too far from them. One mistake, and the cop could fatally wound either one. Austen stepped closer.
“Stay out of my investigation, LaPierre.”
Kayla seared Montgomery with a look of pure hatred. Greg knew her well enough that if she could, she’d tear the cop apart with her bare hands.
Greg’s heart rate came down a notch when Montgomery lowered the gun.
“You keep Miss Bidault reigned in. Her interference will create a frenzy. It’s my city, and I will take care of the Ripper.” He holstered his weapon.
They were truly and utterly fucked. They couldn’t stop him. They couldn’t accuse him. No one would believe Mattie over him. He knew it and they knew it. The Sergeant strolled past them and all they could do is watch.
A disgusted laugh erupted from his mouth. “You really think I’m the Ripper.”
Kayla pushed to her feet, but didn’t move from Mattie’s side. “If you’re not, why are you threatening us?”
Now that his pulse slowed, Greg took a long, close look at the cop, and he shook his head. “Because he knows the Ripper’s been here, just like we figured out.”
The Sergeant turned his piercing gaze on Greg. “Very astute, JTF. I recognized you from the club. You come in occasionally.”
“So you thought you’d steal my Ka-Bar and set me up?
The Sergeant shook his head. “No, I thought you were the Ripper. That’s why I arrested you.”
A thought clunked home, and he chewed on it for a second. “I’ve seen you here over the years too.” He swung a look at Mattie, wanting to go to her. “You were worried Mattie would figure out the Dream Squad plays at this club and the focus would be on you. Make you look bad. The citizens of Victoria would look down their noses at a cop trying to find a killer who hung out at a BDSM club on his free time.”
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