Heat

by Jamie K. Schmidt

“So why didn’t you go to a shelter?” Jessie asked. “Why did you stay all alone for two months?”

  “There was such a stigma about the ‘battered women’s shelter’ in my mind that I couldn’t. Of course in hindsight, I should have just gone and got help sooner. That’s why I think the shelter I’d like to build with Colleen would be more of a community outreach program, working in conjunction with the other shelters. My main thrust would be taking away the stigma. Centering on women helping women. Maybe it would start out as just a safe place to go to hang out. Or a place to stay, like a YWCA. I don’t know.” Mallory shrugged. “It’s just something that I keep tossing around in my head. And I know Colleen would love to fund it. She’s a generous person. I wish she could have come to the restaurant with us today and you could have seen for yourself.”

  “I think that’s beautiful,” Jessie said. “My mom would have liked that. And she would have liked you.”

  This time Max saw Mallory flush with pleasure. “I’m sorry I never met her.”

  Lunchtime passed by and Max thought that he might just get out of this unscathed. Even so, he had to blink twice when David and Chrissie came through the door.

  Fuck.

  He pushed himself to his feet.

  “This is a private affair,” Max said.

  “Your affair isn’t private at all,” Chrissie hissed.

  “Where’s my ring, you faithless whore?” David lurched closer. He was wearing the same clothes as yesterday and Max didn’t need to confirm what the bulge under his arm was. He had seen the pistol last night.

  Max cleared the table and tried to get between him and Mallory.

  “Who is this asshole?” Jessie said, pushing to her feet.

  Ken blinked around the table, not sure how to react.

  “I left it on the night table, three months ago when I left you.” Mallory smiled nervously at Jessie and Ken. “David, this is Max’s family.”

  Jessie narrowed her eyes at David. “I’ve heard about you.”

  “You probably sold it for drugs,” Max said, hoping David’s attention would turn toward him.

  He got Chrissie instead. “My brother is going to sue you for libel.”

  “Slander,” David corrected, turning toward Max. “Libel is written. Slander is verbal.”

  “Yeah?” Max said. “If I recall, it’s only slander if it’s not true.”

  Chrissie threw a punch; Max deflected it and pushed her into a large potted plant. The waiter ran out of the kitchen.

  “What’s going on out here?” the waiter demanded.

  “David was just leaving,” Mallory said to him, before turning to face her ex. “We went over this the other night. Why are you here?”

  “You stole things from me.”

  “What things?” Mallory yelled.

  “My guitar. My laptop.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t have any of those things. Why don’t you report them stolen?”

  Chrissie was getting to her feet. “That’s a good idea. We should call the police.”

  “No police!” David shouted. “I want my money.” He swiveled back to Mallory, who didn’t even flinch.

  “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

  David ran his hands through his hair. “You’re trying to confuse me.”

  “David,” she said, putting her hand on his arm. “Sit down for a moment. It doesn’t have to be this way.”

  Shaking her off him, David clenched his fist.

  “I wouldn’t,” Max said between his teeth.

  “Your sister,” David said. “Call her. Tell her to give me what she stole from me and we’ll call it even.”

  “David, she didn’t take your guitar or your laptop.”

  “Give me three thousand dollars and I’ll let the matter drop. Otherwise, I’m filing paperwork in the morning.” He pulled down his suit jacket.

  “I’m getting dizzy watching your mood swings,” Mallory said. “You’re strung out and you need help. You want to deal? Here’s a deal. You check into a rehab center or I’m filing paperwork in the morning. How does a restraining order sound to you?”

  Max would have cheered if it hadn’t been inappropriate.

  “Like a piece of paper.” David fumbled inside his jacket for the gun.

  Max snap-kicked him in the groin and when David dropped to his knees, Max whipped around a spinning back kick to his temple that leveled David to the restaurant floor. He was out before his head thunked to the ground. But his jacket fell open, showing his hand was on the handle of his gun. Chrissie screamed and threw herself over her brother.

  “You killed him!” she accused.

  “Are you on the same drugs he is?” Max said coldly. “He’s taking a nap.”

  “I’m calling the police,” the waiter said.

  “To Dad!” Jessie raised her cocktail. “This is a fitting wake. More than you know.” She said the last bit to Chrissie, who was the only one looking at her as if she were crazy.

  By the time the police took their statements, David had come around. Mallory tried to convince the restaurant not to file charges against David. It pissed Max off a bit that she wanted David to get off scot-free for almost pulling a gun on her. She went back to Couture to fill them in on what happened while he drove his siblings to the airport.

  “You sure know how to throw a wake,” Jessie said, kissing him goodbye at the security checkpoint.

  “I like Mallory,” Ken said. “She keeps you on your toes.”

  And then they were gone. Max rode around for a while listening to sad cowboy songs on satellite radio. When he was drained, he drove back to Couture. He didn’t have it in him to punch a bag, but he needed some escape and relief from the day. There were a few scenes he could put together that would blank out everything but the sweet pleasure of control. Mallory needed to be treated with kid gloves right now, and that was the exact opposite of what he needed. He wouldn’t touch another woman. Hell, he didn’t even want anyone but her. But he would set the scenes and watch, letting the sweet sounds of submission wash away the remains of an old life.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Mallory had to tell the story three times. Next time, she’d make sure Colleen, Anya, and Nefertiti were all in the same room first.

  “Tee has a contact at the Haven Police Department,” Colleen said. “She can keep us informed.” They were sitting in the boardroom around a heavy oak table. On a buffet against the wall were snacks and drinks. Mallory couldn’t eat. Her stomach was still threatening to projectile vomit all over the beautiful room.

  “That Sergeant Polowski is quite the charmer,” Nefertiti said with a coy look under her lashes at Istvahn. “Should I ask him out for dinner and drinks and pump him for information?”

  “Excuse me, I have work to do,” Istvahn said and exited the room.

  Nefertiti’s teasing smile faded a bit.

  “It couldn’t hurt,” Colleen said. Her phone alarm went off. She looked at it and sighed. “Some days it’s not worth chewing through the restraints. I’ve got to get ready for tonight. There’s a huge dungeon event.”

  “Do you need all staff on deck?” Anya asked, adding a dollop of Baileys to her coffee.

  “I think we’ve got the scenes set, but see Clint if you want to be on a standby list.”

  Anya’s cheeks pinked. “I should have an early night. I’ve been burning the midnight oil.”

  Colleen grunted, “Whatever,” and left the room, Nefertiti on her heels.

  “What’s the story with you and Clint?” Mallory asked.

  “There’s not even a rough draft.” Anya sipped her coffee. “I’m not his type.”

  “I see the way he looks at you. You should go to his dungeon.”

  “I’m not into group activities,” she said, primly.

  “I bet he’d make an exception for you, if you told him that.” Mallory grabbed the bottle of Irish Cream and doctored her own drink. She didn’t have to be back at work until Monday.
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  “Maybe,” Anya said in a way that convinced Mallory she wouldn’t do anything about it.

  “So what’s the deal with Nefertiti and Istvahn? I’m sensing they’re more than friends.”

  “Nah.” Anya shook her head. “They’ve just worked together too long.”

  “He seemed a little ticked off by the idea of her going out to dinner with that cop.”

  “With Istvahn, how could you tell?”

  “I suppose,” Mallory said.

  “So are you heading off to Club Inferno?” Anya waggled her eyebrows.

  Mallory laughed. “No, I’m going to hunker down with Max and not come up for air until Monday. Don’t tell anyone, though—especially not my sister.”

  “I think she knows you two are a thing.”

  “She warned me off him because she was afraid his vanilla students would get jealous.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Anya said. “We’re really a sex club. If they wanted to get laid, we could hook them up.”

  “Not if they’re paying for it. That’s illegal.”

  “It’s a fine line, like paying two hundred dollars for a twenty-buck champagne in the VIP room.”

  “What are you saying?” Mallory leaned in.

  “I’m saying that a lot of us work for tips.” Anya rubbed her fingers together. “I don’t, but I could tell you of a few.”

  “Does Max?”

  “He rakes in tips, but it’s not for sex.”

  “What for, then?”

  Anya shrugged. “He has a creative genius for BDSM scenes and he’s a good teacher.”

  “Oh,” Mallory said. “I’d better go find him.”

  “About that,” Anya said. “He’s at Club Inferno tonight. He’s got a few scenes going on that have everyone in an uproar. I’d like to see it, but I’m feeling a little shy tonight.”

  “Are you sure it’s tonight?”

  Anya nodded. “He probably forgot to tell you with all the craziness of the day.”

  “Yeah,” Mallory said. “That must be it.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “I will be. Like you said, it was a tough day. How do I get to Club Inferno?”

  “Come on, I’ll show you.”

  Anya took her through the members-only side to a special set of elevators. If she hadn’t known where to look, she would have assumed the doors were just part of the wall. They opened up and Axe peered out.

  “Going down, ladies?” He winked at them.

  “You wish,” Anya said. “I’ll see you later, Mallory. Have fun.”

  “Oh Anya,” Axe said. “I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave.”

  Anya put a waggle in her step that Axe wolf whistled at. “Hello, dear,” he said to Mallory once the doors closed. “This is your first time, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” Mallory said. “I’m here to see Max.”

  “Bloody artist he is. You enjoy yourself now.” He held the doors open for her and she stumbled into a cavernous room. At the far end was a stage with chairs set up. There were black drape partitions separating different scenes.

  “Would you care for something to drink?” a hostess asked. She was wearing nothing but heels, a black thong, and a white bow tie.

  “Jack and Coke,” Mallory said, trying to sound casual.

  The woman nodded and sauntered off. Not knowing whether to stay in one spot until she got back, Mallory shifted nervously until the noises from behind the first curtain proved too much for her curiosity. She peered around the curtain to see a group of six men and women, dressed in leather chaps and chains, standing in front of a huge rope spider web. One woman was anchored in the center, spread-eagle. Her body was supported by thick, white ropes around her ankles and wrists and then with a crisscross pattern across her body. The rope lifted her breasts and presented them to the crowd.

  “Max paints pictures with that rope,” one man raved.

  Mallory faded back out of the room as the group surged closer to fondle the woman in her web. The woman’s harsh cries of passion followed Mallory. Tugging on her blouse, Mallory felt like she was wearing too many clothes. She was still in the suit she’d worn to the funeral. Kicking off her shoes, she accepted her drink from her hostess.

  “Is there a place I can change?”

  “Do you require privacy or would you like to be viewed while you change?”

  “Privacy please,” Mallory said quickly. Couture was lowering her inhibitions, but she wasn’t that comfortable yet. She stashed her suit and heels in a locker and took a Couture T-shirt and a pair of stretch shorts off the freshly laundered rack.

  The crowd was thicker when she got out of the dressing room. She followed the sea of humans to the next draped exhibit. This time a couple was tied to a pulley system. Their hands and legs were bound and they hung so they were almost, but not quite, touching. Mallory recognized two of the Doms who were with Angie in the first scene she’d stumbled across. They were adjusting the height and sway so in one moment the woman was on top, inches from the man’s mouth; the next, their positions were reversed. The ropes around the man accentuated his hard cock, while the woman’s circled around her breasts and pussy. Their expressions were frustrated and joyful at the same time. Mallory staggered back into the center of the dungeon. Max’s hot words about what he was going to do to her rang in her ears and pounded in time to the excited beat of her heart.

  She passed by kneeling men and women, naked except for a single silver chain around their necks. Their eyes were downcast, but Mallory still felt their gaze. Where was Max? This place was like a dark carnival of sexuality that both frightened and titillated her.

  The next black drape she peered around had one of Istvahn’s men standing guard. “This is a private scene,” he said.

  “Is Max in there?”

  “I don’t think so,” the guard said.

  “Do you know where he is?”

  “He’s mingling around here somewhere.”

  “Thank you,” she said, feeling self-conscious when a buzz of electricity and a scream cut short behind the dark folds of the curtains. She was breathing hard now, not sure if it was the result of adrenaline, desire, fear, or an odd combination of all three.

  The next black drape led to a corridor, but it was unguarded, so she followed it down to a showroom where men and women clothed in white rope dresses and harnesses were displayed as statues on a stone base. The artwork of the knotted rope was fascinating. Max had an eye for playing up a body type’s strengths so all you saw was beauty. If he could do this with cloth, nothing would stop his clothing line. In addition to all the other emotions, she felt pride for what he’d accomplished.

  “Would you like to play with one of the dolls?” a man in a rope harness asked her.

  “I’m just looking,” she said. “I’m actually looking for Max.”

  “Get in line,” he said. “He’s very popular tonight.”

  “I see.” Mallory put a hand to her throat and went to see what was behind the final curtain.

  It was a carnival of rope. There was a tightrope stretched across the rafters fifteen feet in the air. One man was attempting to cross. A net of rope stretched tightly underneath, to catch anyone who fell. Two women were kicking and giggling, trying to free themselves from it. On the other side of the room was a rope trapeze with two men swinging from their knees, trying to catch passersby. Dodging away from their hands, she stopped dead at the carousel. Men and women were tied up as horses and other four-legged beasts of burden. They were muzzled and connected to a giant spinning disk. People would approach the carousel, climb aboard one of the human ponies, and ride it around for a short time as the disk spun beneath them.

  “This is incredible,” Mallory said.

  “Glad you like it.” Max was beside her. He must have come up as she was gawking at his creations.

  Dark shadows hovered in his dispassionate eyes.

  “Like it? It’s magnificent. Everyone is talking about it. You’re a
great talent.”

  “What are you doing here, Mallory?” he asked.

  “I was looking for you.”

  “Why?”

  Mallory cocked her head at him. “What do you mean ‘why’? I wanted to see if you were all right. Did your family make it to the airport without any further incidents?”

  “I’m fine. They’re probably home by now.” Max looked away. “I have a few scenes to tweak. Can we talk tomorrow?”

  “Sure,” she said and hugged him.

  For a moment he stiffened and she thought he was going to push her away. But when she just hugged him tighter, he began to melt, and soon he was gripping her as tightly as she was him. Standing on her tiptoes, she whispered in his ear. “When will it be my turn with the rope?”

  “Soon,” he vowed, and claimed her lips with a brief but thrilling kiss.

  “How about now?” she found herself asking him as he turned to walk away.

  He checked the movement and turned back to her, the look in his eyes churning that soup of emotions to the surface. A length of rope appeared in his hand and he took her right hand in his. “I’m in a strange mood.”

  “It’s been a strange day.”

  He tied the first knot around her wrist. It was snug, but it didn’t hurt. He wrapped the rope five more times and through his deft hand motions, she had a lattice-like pattern securing her forearm. The end of the rope was in his hand.

  “Come with me,” he said, pulling on it.

  She followed him, like a dog on a leash—which she probably resembled. But no one looked twice at them. “Where are we going?”

  “Wherever I want,” he said with that edge in his voice that made her knees tremble.

  He rattled a key chain until he found the key he was looking for, and unlocked a door that was embedded in the wall.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever find all the hidden doors in this place,” Mallory said in an attempt to joke a little normalcy into the atmosphere.

  Max led her to the center of a small room and then locked the door. He pulled on a string and a soft red light filled the room. The shadows chased hard edges down his jaw so he looked like a satyr or a devil coming to torment her. They were in a bedroom with a four-poster bed and canopy and a tray of toys on the bedside table.