Close Protection (Blood Brothers #2)

by Manda Mellett

  When he takes my hand in his, I feel the warmth emanating from him. He holds onto it, looking at me searchingly as he asks, “Am I forgiven, Mia?”

  I put my head to one side, honestly having trouble remembering what I need to forgive him for, then I realise he’s referring to the bug that was put on the SUV, under his watch, enabling Hatcher to find me. “Ryan, it was a simple mistake. No worries. Have you found anything about the girl?”

  His face relaxes, and he looks relieved. After gesturing to Master Ralph, indicating he’ll have a drink, he turns his attention back to me. “No. We’ve got a good image of her from the CCTV in the shop but haven’t yet been able to make any identification. She could have been his sub or someone he offered some cash just to plant the bug and then follow you into the store. If she’s in the lifestyle, she’ll probably turn up in a club somewhere. We’ll keep looking.”

  It’s a loose end, but I’m not going to let it unravel me. As Ryan finishes talking, Ben appears an amused grin on his face as though he’s enjoying himself. He greets Ryan with a one armed manly hug, and they slap each other’s backs, then he turns to me and winks.

  “Ok, little subbie,” Ben addresses me, “We going to do some negotiating then?”

  I realise this has been a setup. I didn’t come here to play, but out of anyone they could have come up with, Ryan is someone I’ve grown to like and respect. And he’s certainly got sufficient potential to make Jon jealous. That doesn’t stop a wave of apprehension running through me though.

  And my concern only deepens when it becomes clear Ben is taking his role as the Dom responsible for me very seriously, as he starts running through safewords and limits, and my stomach starts to churn with nerves. Will I have to go through with this? How far will I have to go with Ryan? I suspect and hope they think Jon will step in and put a stop to me playing with him. But what if he doesn’t? Will Ryan understand if I tell him I can’t continue?

  My eyes flick backwards and forwards between the two men. Ben puts his head on one side considering my reaction and glances at Ryan. As if he senses my nervousness, Ryan puts his hand on my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. He waits until I look up into his gentle brown eyes. “Red stops everything, Mia. At any time.”

  Chapter 30

  Jon

  Earlier today

  Again I went back to the message that Nijad had written to me, and that I’d saved all those weeks ago in my special documents folder. He might have been writing about himself, but his words also applied to me. I re-read them again, “The last three years have brought me here, to this moment. We can’t rewrite our past or change fate, and where I am now is exactly where I’m meant to be.”

  I’d been to the wedding and met Nijad’s wife, Cara. It was our second meeting, but she seemed to bear me no ill-will for having been the pilot who’d taken her out to the desert to meet the stranger she’d been forced to marry. And seeing her glowing with happiness there could be no doubt that Nijad and Cara’s marriage was an unlikely, but complete success, both obviously very much in love.

  I recalled the conversation when Nijad had taken me aside.

  “You’re blaming yourself, and you shouldn’t, Jon. You didn’t have the time to investigate properly before Chantelle changed her story, and then I was quickly whisked away from Paris.”

  I shook my head, “I should have gone back to the apartment. Perhaps with a second look, I’d have seen things not obvious at first, like that bloody hole in the wall!”

  Nijad laughed, “I never thought putting my fist through the plasterboard would eventually clear my name. It’s ironic, isn’t it? But Jon, Jasim had closed the apartment up as soon as I left. No one thought there was any reason to return. The forensic evidence seemed unquestionable, and if I thought I was responsible for hurting her, who were you to think otherwise?” He paused and cast a pointed look across the room to where his wife stood talking to his father, Emir Rushdi. “If it weren't for the events in Paris, I’d have never met Cara. I’d have continued my playboy ways, never regained my love for my country, let alone settled back home in Amahad.” He turned back, and I felt the force of his stare as his dark eyes narrowed and focused on me. “I don’t regret a thing, Jon. I’m exactly where I want to be.”

  When I returned from the wedding, I found the Agusta and McClaren waiting for me. I didn’t feel I’d deserved them but knew better than to argue with the sheikh. It was a sign that Nijad meant what he’d said. His old life was over, but he’d ended up in a better place.

  The last three years have shaped me, too. Have shown I’m fallible, as any man. My experience with failure has brought me here, today. When I let people get close to me, I only let them down. And that predominantly includes Mia; she deserves someone she can rely on. Someone who won’t get her shot or kidnapped.

  I know she’s missing me, Ben’s kept me updated. But she’s grown and changed; she’ll find someone new, and then we’ll both be able to move on. And I’ll continue to have short term contract based arrangements where both parties know what to expect from the start, and where no one can get hurt.

  But fuck, I miss her.

  Present day

  What the fuck is she doing here? Gratefully, I take the whisky from Ralph and, needing to get away from the woman who’s got me twisted up in knots as quickly as possible, make my way to the VIP area, knowing full well it has to be Ben who’s behind this fuck up of a situation. I know he’s been seeing her almost daily for the past week, checking up on her, making sure she’s healing both mentally and physically. Reporting and reassuring me she’s doing fine, though why the fuck he thinks he needs to keep me updated on the client of a closed case I don’t know.

  I came to the club tonight hoping to get Mia out of my head. Thinking to find someone to play with who wouldn’t remind me of the woman I let go. I never expected to see her sitting at the bar, dressed to kill and looking so desirable. Fuck, my cock stood at attention as soon as I caught sight of her! It only took that short minute standing at the bar for her to get under my skin again. Her smell, the sight of her in that corset and short skirt that immediately made my cock wake up; black and red, my favourite colour combination. And those heels! I don’t even have to see her standing to know that they’ll accentuate her lovely calves, her long legs leading up to a slice of heaven.

  I had to get away, had to run off like a coward. I couldn’t bring myself even speak to her, didn’t trust myself to hear her voice. She’s so much better off without me; I’m not, and will never be, the man she needs. I’ve shattered into pieces any trust she could have for me when I failed to keep her safe. Christ, even as her Dom I let her down when I failed to read the signs and made her safeword out...

  Knocking back half of my drink in one go, I realise I might have put physical distance between us by retreating to the VIP area, but that doesn’t mean her effect on me doesn’t linger. I’m uncomfortable in my leathers, my cock straining telling me I need to find someone to play with, someone to take the edge off. And I need it fast. Before I do something stupid like go to her.

  The seat I’ve chosen gives me a good view of the main room, and I know I’m lying to myself that I’ve not selected it just so I’m able to keep an eye on what Mia’s doing. No, of course not, I’ve just placed myself in the best position to search for a suitable playmate; someone with no expectation, other than to have a bit of fun tonight. But as I look around at the available subs, my cock deflates like a pricked balloon. Shit, it seems to be programmed only to respond to Mia. What the fuck is she doing here? Inwardly I ask the question again while unbidden my eyes flick back to watch what she’s doing. She’s engrossed in conversation with Diamond and Gorgeous, and I don’t trust those two as far as I could throw them. If they’ve taken her under their wing, they’ll set something, or rather someone, up for her. Which would be excellent; she’ll be demonstrating she can move on, and I should be proud of her. But something twists inside of me, as I wonder how the fuck I could survive seeing her in
a scene with someone else. I have to pull myself together. She deserves better than me.

  Fuck! I don’t know if I can do this. I toy with the idea of going straight home, but my empty apartment holds no allure for me. Her ghost still walks there and sleeps in my bed. I drop my head into my hands. I’m so fucked up. Feet appear in front of me, I look up, and scowl, “Why the fuck did you bring her here, Ben? It was you, wasn’t it?”

  He shrugs and doesn’t bother denying it. “It will do her good, Jon. She needs to feel like a woman again, not a victim.”

  “There are other ways of doing that. If you wanted to take Mia out, why not take her to a night club?” I try to dismiss the immediate vision of Ben holding Mia close on a dance floor.

  “She’s submissive,” he starts explaining. “She needs to accept that submission doesn’t lead to abuse, to understand the power exchange and exercise her power. To comprehend on the deepest level, Hatcher wasn’t a Dom.”

  “Well, you’re certainly throwing her straight into the deep end by bringing her here.” Although what he says makes sense, I don’t agree with what he’s doing but only for purely selfish reasons.

  Ben sits back and sips his drink. Then he sighs. “Jon, I’m going to be frank with you. You say you’re a Dom, but are you?” He pauses to shake his head as I sit back with my mouth open, wondering just where he’s going with this. “We’ve discussed this before; you weren’t a Dom to Mia.”

  “You don’t know that!” As I snarl, I think about what he’s saying. Is he right?

  Ben ignores my comment, “You’ve been doing things by rote for a long time now. Playing with experienced subs, repeating the same routines. You’ve become a Dom by habit. Your self-doubt limits you from trying anything new.”

  “Now wait just a fucking minute!”

  He holds up his hand to stop me; there’s obviously more he wants to say, “Perhaps training a new sub is beyond you. And if that’s the case, maybe you should sell your shares in the club and get out of the lifestyle.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Ben, I was born a Dom, I can’t change that.” Is he really telling me to leave Tiacapan?

  He shakes his head sadly, “You’ve lost confidence in yourself. Why should anyone give control to someone who’s so full of self-loathing? To someone who expects to make a mistake. You’ve lost your way, man.” Again he gestures to let him finish. “I’m sorry Jon, I thought Mia was the right person for you, but now I think I was wrong. She is submissive; she needs a Dom. But first and foremost she needs a Dom who’s in control of himself. And who keeps things in perspective. Sure, shit happens. But that’s life.”

  And we’re back to the subject we started with. Growing angry I spit at him, “So you brought her here to find a proper Dom? Because I’m not one?”

  “Not unless you step up and prove it.”

  “So you don’t think I’m right for her, but you’ve left her alone with Gorgeous and Diamond? Don’t you think that’s asking for trouble? She’s just been through a horrendous ordeal for fuck’s sake! What the hell are you thinking? What if someone like Donovan approaches her again? Who’s looking out for her in case she has flashbacks?”

  “I’ve got it covered, don’t worry.”

  Narrowing my eyes in suspicion, I wonder what exactly has been going on during his daily visits with Mia. “You’re going to play with her?” I’m surprised the words don’t stick in my throat. I clench my fists and hold them tight at my sides, hoping for the strength to restrain myself from punching him if his answer is in the affirmative. Expectantly I wait, dreading the response. It’s not the done thing to get into a throw down with your boss, especially in a club which I part-own and where violence isn’t tolerated.

  But he surprises me as he shakes his head. “I think she ought to choose someone for herself,” he tells me. “I’ve told her I'd help her negotiate a scene so it’s right for her.”

  He’s going to negotiate for her? I don’t know what would have been worse, Mia with Ben, who at least I knew I could trust, or with someone else who might not understand her. I try to make him see sense. “Even if you’re right, she can’t have completely healed yet. It’s too early to bring her.”

  Again a shrug. “Most of her bruises are gone; some are still a bit yellow looking, but she assures me they’re not hurting anymore. A couple of the welts are still a little painful, but it would be easy to avoid them. That info will be part of the negotiations.” Having divulged that snippet of unwelcome information, he turns and leaves to go back into the club proper.

  I’m stuck in the hole I’ve dug for myself. If I try to dissuade him, I’d only be admitting I have feelings for her. Feelings I’m trying desperately hard to keep hidden. Only I know how deep they go. I look down into my empty glass, wondering where the drink went, and consider leaving and going to get drunk. Very drunk; seeking oblivion so I’m not capable of fucking thinking at all.

  The thought of watching Mia play with someone else is enough by itself to drive me crazy with jealousy and grief. Grief that I had to let her go. And I had to, didn’t I? I couldn’t trust myself to do right by her… Hang on a darn minute. Suddenly the words that Ben had spoken start to get through to me. If a Dom has no confidence in himself, how can he take responsibility for a sub? And even the best Dom in the world can’t control everything. As he so eloquently put it, shit happens.

  As I stare into space, the mental slap around the head that Ben’s just given me helps me put things into perspective, perhaps, for the first time in my life. There might have been nothing I could have done to save my men, nothing further at the time I could have done to clear Nijad’s name. I might have been able to protect Mia better, but who’s to say the fire wouldn’t have taken hold in any event? And it was Mia’s love for me that ended up with her taking a bullet. And how did I reward her? I walked away. As the man, and her Dom, I walked away.

  It’s a couple of minutes later when I look back up into the vast play area that is Club Tiacapan, my club, and my eyes go immediately to the woman in the black and red corset sitting by the bar.

  And then I’m consumed by rage, red fury overwhelming me, making me want to smash something. It’s fucking Ryan! Ben’s standing between Ryan and Mia, deep in discussion and there’s only one fucking thing they could be talking about. I’m frozen on the spot; transfixed, unable to look away or even move. I see them nodding, smiling. Laughing. But as Mia slips down from the stool, I’m able to read her body language from here. She’s stiff, nervous. And then I have to watch as Ryan, an experienced Dom, reads her just like I would, and draws her to him, giving her a moment to settle herself, before taking her hand and leading her away. Suddenly the invisible restraints holding me motionless drop away, and without conscious thought I’m standing, moving, running out of the VIP area and then I’m in front of the pair I’ve been watching. My hands draw up, clenched again in fists, my stance threatening.

  “Take your fucking hands off her,” I growl menacingly. “Or I’m going to drop you here.”

  To his credit, Ryan keeps Mia held tight at his side. “I think that’s her choice,” he says, calmly.

  I’m incensed. Ryan let her down too. “You fucking bastard. If you kept your eyes on the fucking job Hatcher wouldn’t have got her.” Immediately I want to take back the words. It had been an easy enough mistake to make, one that I might have made myself.

  Mia looks up at Ryan, and I go cold as she calmly asks him for permission to speak. He’s not her Dom. I am!

  At his nod, she addresses me, “He’d have got me at some point, Jon. And now he’s dead. It’s over. And I’m fine.” Her face turns up, her expression pleading. “I’m fine,” she repeats with emphasis.

  I first look at the angry red scar from the gunshot on her upper arm then I look into her eyes, one still showing a fading bruise, and read the message hidden in the depths there. She’s not fine, but like the wounds that are visible, she’s repairing herself, rebuilding herself. The fact she’s here, brave and courageo
us, standing upright, facing her fears tells me that. She’s not fine, but she will be. And it’s at that moment I know I have to prove myself to her, prove I can be the Dom, as well as the man she needs. And as her Dom it’s my responsibility to help heal her. I know exactly what I have to do.

  Ryan’s arm drops from her shoulders. As my temper begins to cool he steps aside and stands with arms folded, legs apart, waiting for me to make the next move. I close my eyes briefly and appreciate what he’s doing. Without words he’s offering her to me, giving me a chance to make this right. Inhaling sharply, knowing deep in my soul this is the right thing to do; I nod my thanks to him. Quickly, thoughts run one after the other in my mind, and then I get the clarity I need and come up with a plan.

  I take a deep breath. “Do you want to play with Ryan?” I give her the choice, dreading the answer. If there’s a chance we can move on from here, she has to make that decision.

  My heart leaps as without missing a beat, she replies. “No. I want to play with you.”

  I glance at Ryan, the fucking bastard’s smiling. It’s then I realise how well and truly I’ve been set up. I shake my head, slowly, and take a moment looking around the room, considering very carefully how I should proceed. She’s so brave to have come here tonight, to this dungeon with all the equipment and implements that were used to hurt her. I need to change that for her, reward her bravery. I take a deep breath in and hold it, only letting it out when I know I’m in control of myself as well as her, with no doubts or second thoughts in my head.