Masters of the Castle: Witness Protection Program

by Maren Smith

  Oh God. What had he done? His heart pounded in his ears, his breath rasping. “Did I hurt you?” He’d sooner be dead than harm a hair on her head. “Grace, are you all right?”

  “What happened?” Her voice caught on a sob. “You were yelling, thrashing. I didn’t even know you were in bed with me until I heard that, then you flung yourself onto the floor, and that’s all I know. What… what happened?”

  If he hadn’t grabbed her, what then? He looked down at his hands to find them gripping a pillow, the poor abused thing twisted and leaking feathers all over the floor. “I had a dream. A nightmare.” He swallowed hard. “A flashback, really. Are you sure I didn’t hurt you?”

  “No. But I was scared you were hurt. I turned the light on so you can see. When I was little and had a nightmare, my mom always did that and it helped. Did it help?”

  The sweetest woman, she’d turned the light on, trying to make him feel better, when it had to have been so frightening to listen to him. He’d had these episodes many times. And not always alone. His buddies in the hospital, the nurses, and doctors had shared his behavior while dreaming of the day his men died. The day he had watched them die.

  He still didn’t know why he was alive.

  “I’m sorry you were scared. I’m fine, but I should go back to the couch or my own bed. Coming in here was a mistake.”

  She protested, asked questions, begged to help, but he fled. Like the coward he was. Why had her cousin thought he’d be a good person to take care of her? He double-checked the lock on the main suite door, hoping he wasn’t locking the bigger danger in with her, and skulked off to his lonely bed. He’d have to go to Marshall in the morning and ask for someone to take his place. Grace deserved better.

  Chris

  “But there is no one else.” Marshall sat across the table in a small private dining room, digging into a full breakfast while Chris toyed with a cup of coffee rapidly growing cold. “And from what you said, and from what Grace said, you did nothing to harm her. You had a nightmare. Hell, man, anyone who’s been through what you have would have nightmares. At the very least.”

  Chris shook his head. “I could have killed her.”

  A long silence drew out while Chris focused on the dark liquid in his cup before Marshall went on. “If I believed that, I would replace you immediately. No, I’d drag you out of here and onto the street myself; make sure you never came in here again. Never laid eyes on my cousin.” His voice softened. “But you didn’t harm her, did you? I understand you destroyed a pillow pretty effectively, but nothing more. You had told us before you started here about the night terrors. You aren’t the only veteran here who has had them, you know.”

  “Right.”

  “But have you ever harmed anyone during them?”

  “Not yet.” And therein lay the true basis for his fear.

  “And are the terrors worse since you came here? I know you had a bad moment at the Dungeon. But did you hurt anyone?”

  He swallowed hard. “No.”

  “And when you and Grace scene… how’s your control?”

  “Fine.”

  Again, a lapse into silence while Marshall cut a slice of ham into even pieces and ate several. How could he eat at a time like this? “Grace is with Kaylee this morning.”

  “Grace left me a voicemail. Told me she needed time by herself.” She probably wanted forever by herself.

  “She’s pretty upset with you. In fact, I’ve never seen her madder. Grace is usually pretty levelheaded unless someone treats her like she can’t handle herself. You offended her when you refused to tell her what was going on.”

  “I said I had a flashback… at least, I think I did,” he protested.

  “And when she offered to help, wanted to hear the details, what did you do?”

  “I left. She doesn’t want to hear about the bodies, the blood, the arm that landed next to me.” He sucked in a breath. “That I killed someone. The sniper who murdered my men, I almost ripped his head off. When the platoon arrived to clean up the mess, they said I’d crushed his throat. Grace can’t love a man who is so capable of violence. She deserves… deserves…”

  “She deserves the best.” Marshall pushed his plate away and leaned back in his seat. “Chris, I know your service record. We have ways of getting those things. That man killed those in the convoy or at least was partly responsible for it. You strangled him.” Chris winced at the word. “Don’t flinch. You saved your life. He stabbed you six times, didn’t he? And you bested him and stayed alive.”

  Chris’ eyes swam with tears, and he slammed his hand on the table, making the cups and plates jump. “My life. I saved my life. I would have traded it for any one of those men. Any of them.”

  “And the one you did save? Besides yourself? The driver?”

  Chris subsided. “He almost died. When I was fighting, I didn’t even know if he was still alive.”

  “And after you learned he was?”

  “I did what I could to keep him that way.” Even then, he’d thought it was futile, but the man’s eyes held such pleading. “I put pressure on the worst of the wounds, told him it would be fine. That his wife was waiting for him to get home and his daughter.”

  “You almost lost your arm. From the knife wounds.”

  “Yeah, the blade had something on it. I don’t know what. It infected really badly and fast.”

  “Chris. Stop pounding yourself for what you couldn’t do. Those you couldn’t save.” Marshall rose and waved him toward the door. “Now, take another ounce of that heroism and go explain to my cousin that you were a complete ass. Give her credit for understanding that you went through hell. Let her be the strong woman she is for you. It’s all she asks, and it’s a pretty good deal.”

  Every time he went over what happened that day, he blamed himself. The doctors all told him not to, that he’d done better than almost anyone could but he hadn’t believed them, shut down whenever they started to talk about it.

  He was no hero, but maybe he could work on not being an ass.

  Grace

  “You sure you don’t mind coming up with me? I don’t want to tax your body too much after all the walking we already did this morning.” Grace led the way confidently up the stairs as Kaylee straggled behind her.

  “First of all,”—Kaylee paused and took a couple of breaths before continuing to scuffle behind her—“just because I got the big ol’ honkin’ belly and am breathing a little harder and waddling a little duckier, doesn’t mean it’s going to tax me too much.” She nudged Grace’s shoulder. “I’m caught up, go ahead. We both know this is the only time we’re going to have an area completely to ourselves so you can do your thing.”

  “Thanks. I won’t get much more than a few steps in front of you, but I have been dying to get some time to myself with no one leading the way. Did you know Chris tripped up the stairs yesterday?”

  “He did?” Kaylee giggled. “Man, I do that all the time. I choke on air, too.”

  “That’s a talent.” Grace shrugged, thinking about the past few days and how different everything was here at the Castle. “It’s funny. I was so frustrated at the constant reminders to act helpless, yet I knew there were fifteen steps up this set. I kind of laughed when he bit it. He was fine, just a bruised ego, exacerbated by my laughing a bit.”

  Another chortle from Kaylee while Grace waited for her to catch up again. “So, what’d he say?”

  “Mmm.” Grace clenched her bottom, smiling at the memory. “He called me a naughty little girl and spanked me pretty good.”

  “I miss being spanked.”

  “Not much longer now.”

  Kaylee harrumphed and tried to take the lead, and Grace laughed and raced two more stairs to get in front of her. “Ha, nice try, but I think I can take you on the stair crawl. Sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine. I wish everyone would stop asking me that,” Kaylee bit out. “Sorry, my hormones are all over the place. I hate feeling constantly overprot
ected like I’m suddenly vulnerable after years of being on my own. Know what I mean?”

  “That’s why I left Chris sleeping in our suite this morning instead of waking him up.”

  Kaylee caressed her elbow. “I was wondering when we were going to get to this conversation.”

  “Thanks for not pushing. I needed some time to sort things out.”

  “And?”

  “My initial reaction was that he wouldn’t have been as upset if I could have seen what was coming. As it is, he threw himself off the bed before either of us got injured. But he doesn’t see it that way. Bad choice of words, sorry.” She sat down on the top step of the staircase. “Even if I could have known he was going to wake up crazy, I couldn’t have stopped him, even with two functioning eyes. It’s a matter of his strength and agility versus mine. It has nothing to do with… this.” She pointed at her face, scowling.

  “Keep going. I could use another minute or two of sitting.”

  “I resent him for treating me like I’m easily breakable, like someone who can’t be trusted to take care of herself. Did you know that the only time he asks me my opinion or gives me a choice in something is when we are scening or spanking or having sex? The rest of the time, I have to literally put my foot down to get him to remember.”

  Kaylee giggled. “I heard you ‘accidentally’ stepped on his foot on Thursday.”

  “It wasn’t an accident, and he knows it.”

  They both sat silently for a moment, their breaths echoing in the enclosed stairwell.

  “So, what are you going to do?”

  Grace shrugged. “I don’t know. The sex is hot; the spanking stuff is even hotter. He’s fun to talk to, and he’s really smart. But I have to be able to live my own life freely. I can’t be with someone who doesn’t trust me. That’s what all this BDSM stuff is about, right? Trust. He doesn’t trust me.”

  “Oh my God, you’ve fallen for him, haven’t you? Like, really fallen. Like, flower girls and ring bearers and white dress fallen.”

  “Yeah, I think I’m in love with Chris. But I’m not in love with the job he is doing on me right now. And I don’t know which is the real Chris. I’m not leaving here after fearing for my life just to be held back from living it. And if that’s how he’s going to treat me, then we need to end this thing we have going on, whatever it is, before we go any further.”

  “Have you talked to him yet?”

  “No. I kind of bolted as soon as my alarm clock hit.”

  “That explains my six-thirty wake up call.”

  “Sorry about that.”

  “It’s okay. I need to get used to not sleeping before the baby comes, right?”

  Grace leaned in and gave Kaylee a hug over her round belly. “What do you think I should do?”

  “I guess you should talk to him. See if he really feels the way you think he does. But for the record, Marshall has been the same way during this pregnancy, and as infuriating as it is, I also know it’s because he truly loves me. On the other hand, if he treated me like that all the time, I’d be upset. Talk to him. Then ask yourself one very important question.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Do you trust him with your life?”

  “What’s that have to do with anything? We were talking about him not trusting me.”

  “Trust goes both ways, sister.”

  Grace nodded and ended their hug. “Thanks. I need to think about all of this some more. I hope he’s not in the suite. I’d like a chance to sit and go through things for a bit.”

  “And give your friend a chance to put her swollen feet up, too, right?”

  “Of course.” Grace laughed. “Ready?”

  “Yeah, mmph, it is so much harder to get up than down.”

  Grace took her hand and helped her stand. “Well, you only have two more steps, through the door, then fifteen paces to the end of the hall. Then we can get you in and onto my sofa.”

  “You are really good at this.”

  “I’ve had years of practice.” Grace led her friend down the hall and toward the suite.

  Grace held the suite door open as Kaylee strode past her and straight forward for six or seven shuffled steps. “Kaylee, stop.”

  The tone of her voice must have alerted Kaylee to something being wrong, because she froze in her tracks. “What?” She was turning toward her, her voice louder once facing Grace again.

  “There’s supposed to be an end table there. I would have heard you veering around it to the left. Everyone either touches the lamp, or brushes against the table as they go around to the left. You didn’t brush anything or turn.”

  “Well, yeah, there’s a space between the table and the first sofa now. Maybe a foot and a half to two feet? Not much, but enough for me and my hips to get through. Do you think the cleaning crew moved it?”

  “No, after the first day, we stopped the cleaning service because they kept moving things and it was stressing me out not having a sanctuary.” Chris had called down immediately and not only put a stop to the service, but he’d also changed the card keys. Only he, Marshall, and Grace could get in.

  “Is the other couch supposed to be pulled out from the back wall by about a foot?”

  “No.” Fear filled her, and her body wanted to freeze in place, but her mouth opened. “Kaylee. Come to me, exactly the same way you walked over. Do not touch a thing.”

  As soon as her friend was next to her, they were out the door, very nearly plowing into two people and a dog, standing right outside. Grace didn’t know who they were or care what they thought. Grabbing Kaylee, she yelled “bomb!” over her shoulder and raced down the hall. She didn’t know what the hell was going on, but she was getting her friend out of there.

  Chris

  Chris left Marshall in the dining room. Grace’s cousin had given him another perspective on where he stood in the Castle, in Grace’s life and even in his own. Sure, the details of the career ending attack were not new to him. He’d been there. And aware until shortly after backup arrived and took over helping the injured driver. At that point, loss of blood, whatever poison had been on the knife—even the military couldn’t identify it—and the general trauma of the morning stole his ability to remain conscious. He woke in a hospital once, then again on the ambulance flight back to the States, but what happened in between was like a fever dream of looming shapes and images that made no sense but were filled with terror. The doctors later blamed it on the infection and poison that nearly killed him.

  On landing, all he wanted to know was how the injured driver had fared. Was he alive? Nobody knew or at least wouldn’t tell him, at first, until he tried to stand and tore open some of his stitches. At that point, someone with authority okayed an override to the other soldier’s medical privacy. Not a lot of details, but he’d lived. And lost at least one limb. More guilt.

  When he and Marshall spoke, he felt as if he was right back there, a place he’d visited in his rages and panics and flashbacks many times. But, oddly, things seemed to make better sense. Those who had cared for him after his injuries had been so busy trying to keep him alive, they’d missed on making sure he really did understand what had happened.

  And to be fair, he’d been far less than cooperative with the therapists later. Somehow, feeling if he could just block it all out, one day it would go away. Chills ran down his spine at the realization of how close he’d come to losing Grace, not because she didn’t want him but because of his own personal demons.

  Marshall trusted him with his favorite cousin, probably the person he loved best after Kaylee. The extraordinary honor gave Chris back a part of himself he hadn’t even known he’d lost until it was back.

  He hadn’t hurt her, at least not physically. But the trust he received showed him the trust he’d neglected to place in her. Grace deserved to know his story. To know what made him the man he was for good, bad, or otherwise. Only then could she know if she wanted him forever. Because he knew she was worth any sacrifice, and if he was
to be her Dominant, he needed to dump the pride and pretense and show the humility of spirit that would make him worthy of her. He hadn’t had a perfect life. He’d had a good military career until that day and if not for the lingering physical issues and PTSD, he’d still be there. He had tremendous pride in those he served with.

  No, he hadn’t been able to save those good men. He’d saved one. And that one life was worth everything to one wife and a little girl. To the man’s parents and other friends and family. He could do nothing about those he lost except remember them with honor. But he needed to feel gratitude for the life spared.

  And for the first time since that dreadful day… gratitude for his own life.

  As if a door closed on the past, his step picked up, he stood taller and strode toward the staircase to their suite. If he didn’t find her there, he would find her and Kaylee wherever they were in the Castle.

  He had a big apology to make and then his soul to open to the woman he wanted to make his forever. Whether she’d want such a damaged one, he had no idea, but he was approaching her on hands and knees this time, begging her to forgive him for his male pride and stupidity. And lack of trust.

  Damn. Trust. Lessons all over about that! If it wasn’t too late.

  At the bottom of the stairs, he sucked in a breath. Here goes nothing!

  But one step up, and he heard her voice, her alarm chilling him to the bone. “Kaylee, faster! Run!”

  Terror closed in. Grace was in trouble. Much like the last time, his brain tried to freeze up but he couldn’t let it. This time the life he needed to save was his and Marshall’s soul mates. They were together. He’d be damned if he’d lose another person while he was on watch.

  Then he heard it coming like a freight train, the beginning of a rumble that culminated in Kaboom!

  Chapter 11

  Grace

  A bomb. Grace had never heard an explosion like that in her entire life, but she was pretty damn sure whatever had rocked the whole floor above them, sending her and her pregnant friend tumbling down the stairs, had been a bomb. Thank God, they’d made it out in time. Some sort of dusty particles swirled around them, and Grace could smell the burning wood and plaster. She could only pray the two people she’d crashed into had made it out in time with their dog. Her brain was still so muddled, though, and she couldn’t focus on anything or anyone else. Kaylee sounded pretty shaken up too, so it was up to Grace to get herself centered and get them some help. Grace huddled closer to Kaylee, her friend’s choppy breaths and erratic body movements, forcing her to wrap her arms more tightly around her. “You have to slow down your breathing. You’re going to hyperventilate, and that’s not good for you or the baby.”