Love Slave for Two: Retribution [Love Slave for Two 6] (Siren Publishing Menage Everlasting)

by Tymber Dalton

  “I wish everyone would stop asking me that.” Her voice sounded too soft, no edge to it, no light.

  No laughter or joy.

  Not that he expected laughter or joy considering the whirlwind that now consumed them, but…he’d expected at least a modicum of relief that she wouldn’t be put through a trial, and even that cold comfort didn’t seem to soothe her.

  “I’m sorry. We’re worried about you.”

  “He’s dead. Can life go back to normal now? Please? I just want to forget about him and what he did to me and live my life.”

  Being a novelist was absolutely no help in a situation like this. “Sweetheart,” he gently said, “we’ll get you back to your counselor as soon as we can next week.” He’d already placed a call to the counselor’s answering service, but since it technically wasn’t an emergency, Tyler had told them it wasn’t critical they talk to her immediately, just at her soonest convenience.

  Perhaps I should have told them it was urgent. More guilt on his part.

  She glared at him. “What if I don’t want to talk to the counselor anymore?”

  “Then I suppose we’ll be paying them to sit and stare at you for an hour every so often.” He’d hoped for at least the hint of a smile, but nothing. “I know you’ve already talked to your mother about her…experience. I’d like to tell you my experience.”

  Zoey eyed him, but didn’t speak.

  “When we first met your mother, she wasn’t in a good place. Literally. Dreadful apartment, and even more dreadful man. The first time we saved her life, we arrived as Alex was attacking her. Poppa beat up Alex, while I carried her to safety. We took her home and fell in love with her. Offered her safety. Allowed her to heal. Prayed she fell in love with us two stupid blokes, and she did.

  “But the one thing we could not do was change her past. The pain and mistrust she still held from what had happened to her when she was only a couple of years older than you are now. Because of that pain and mistrust, she refused to allow us to call the police for her that first time Alex attacked her. That allowed him the opportunity to attack her again later, and he nearly killed her. Then again, years later. Only that time, he killed Poppa’s sister before he attacked us.”

  Tyler shifted position a little and clasped his hands in his lap. “I can’t say I know what you’re going through, because I don’t. What I can say, not as your father but as a man who desperately loves a woman who was hurt in a similar manner as you have been hurt, is that if you don’t work on this now, it will come back to haunt you later, in ways that will hurt you even more. I would give my life to turn back time and keep that bastard from doing what he did to you, but I can’t. Please, let us be your parents, and let us get you the help you need to heal in a healthy way.”

  He could see, even in the dim light, how tears had filled her eyes again. He could barely hear her whisper. “Promise me you didn’t kill him, Daddy.”

  Ah. Maybe this was why her mood had drastically shifted. “I swear, sweetheart, I didn’t do it. None of us did. Mommy, Poppa, and I didn’t leave the house last night. We don’t know who did it, and we have no knowledge of who did it. If we did, I swear, we would have told the police.”

  “You didn’t pay someone to do it? Or have Uncle Bob hire someone?”

  He suppressed a laugh. “No, sweetheart. I write about horrible things, but I did not have a hand in this particular one.” Although in some ways I’m bloody grateful to them for it.

  He didn’t say that out loud, of course.

  She sniffled and wiped at her eyes. “Okay.” She crawled across the bed, quilt and all, to hug him. “Okay.”

  He held her, his face buried in her hair and remembering the day she and Willow were born. “I love you, Zoey. I wish I could let you feel how much I love you and how much I hurt for what you’re going through right now. I would do anything to make this right for you, and I can’t. I’m sorry we weren’t home when you needed us.”

  “It wouldn’t have mattered if you were. He still would have done it.”

  He let her decide when to sit back. When she did, she pulled the quilt around her again and tipped her head back. “Please don’t put this in a book, Daddy. I mean, I know you write crimes. But…not this exact thing. Okay?”

  “Of course not, sweetheart. Never.”

  “Thanks.” She sniffled again.

  “Can I get you anything?”

  She shook her head. “No, thank you.”

  “All right. Door open or closed, or like I found it.”

  “Like you found it, please.”

  He kissed her forehead and heavily pulled himself to his feet. He was almost to the door when she spoke. “Daddy?”

  He turned. “Yes, sweetheart?”

  “I love you. I’m sorry I’m a pain in the ass sometimes. Thank you.”

  “I love you, too, sweetheart, no matter what. And you are not a pain in the arse. You’re my daughter, and I’d move heaven and earth for you were it in my power.”

  Tyler had to retreat to their bedroom for a little while, closing himself in and then locking himself in their bathroom for good measure.

  He didn’t want anyone to see him cry, much less hear it.

  Especially their children.

  Chapter Three

  On the next Saturday, a week after Cole’s murder, Detective Cash stopped by the house to tell them they’d officially been cleared as suspects, along with a couple of other families.

  More disturbing was the other information she imparted, about a mysterious stalker being captured on their motion-detecting cameras over the course of several nights, starting the night of Cole Johnson’s murder the previous Friday.

  Tom contacted Rhys, Korbin, and Amanda—who went by Manny—and had them drive up, at Tom’s expense, to beef up their security. Manny worked for a private security firm in St. Petersburg, and she helped Tom add more cameras and lights to the system. Rhys, Tyler’s adopted nephew, and Korbin were computer wunderkind and lived in a happy triad with Manny. It was nice being able to visit with them as a family, although Tyler wished the circumstances were better.

  Crystal continued working with Nevvie on the social media aspects of the situation, but had not as of yet uncovered anything with her efforts that might help the police identify the real killer.

  By Wednesday, twelve days after Cole Johnson’s murder, it was a relief to know they were no longer considered suspects.

  But no one had yet been arrested in his murder, either.

  Their security system upgrades hadn’t caught their prowler on camera again. It was almost as if the person knew they’d made changes and wasn’t going to return. In fact, Tyler suspected that was exactly what had happened, although he had nothing more than pure instinct to go by to arrive at that conclusion.

  It disturbed him greatly, because it likely meant the person had their property under observation. With the wooded land around their property, it’d be bloody easy for someone to creep up and watch them, undetected.

  That day, the children were still at school. Tyler had been sitting in his office and going through files on Marcus’ computer when someone knocked on his office door.

  He closed that laptop and turned to his own, shaking the mouse to wake it up. “Yes?”

  “Ty?”

  Tom. “Come in.”

  He pushed the door open. “You got a few minutes to talk, buddy?”

  Tyler nodded and turned from the laptop. “Of course, love.”

  When Tom stepped inside, he not only closed the door, he locked it behind him. Usually that would indicate a sexy interlude…

  Except when Tom turned, Tyler recognized the large manila envelope he held in his hand, the one containing the packet of letters.

  The correspondence Marcus had left to him, letters between Marcus and Jean-Claude that Marcus couldn’t bear to destroy while he was alive.

  Ty swallowed hard.

  Tom slowly walked in, looking troubled, like he didn’t know what to say. Tyl
er knew that familiar expression all too well and waited him out.

  Tom walked over to the sofa and sat, patting the cushion next to him.

  Unable to resist him, Tyler stood, walked over, and sat next to Tom. He couldn’t take his eyes off the envelope, and he also realized Tom held a thumb drive.

  When Tyler finally forced his focus up, onto Tom’s face, he found Tom’s gaze also focused on the envelope.

  It took Tom a long moment to speak, his tone low and full of thoughtful pauses and uncertainty.

  “I know this isn’t exactly at the top of the list of importance right now, buddy, but I took some initiative. That was before…Zoey. I hope you don’t get upset at me, but I wouldn’t blame you if you did. I had the letters translated, and I already read them.”

  Tyler wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel about that, so he abstained from making that call, remaining silent while Tom continued.

  “While we were still in Brussels, one night after you’d fallen asleep, I took one of the shorter ones and typed it into Google translate to see what it said. I know the translation wasn’t great, or maybe not even really accurate. But I wanted an idea of what they said.

  “I know they were between Marcus and Jean-Claude, but I also know what a trigger that whole situation is for you. Like Nevvie and…” He sighed, but didn’t continue the thought.

  He didn’t need to. Tyler silently connected it in his brain.

  Like Nevvie and Zoey’s rape.

  “I made an executive decision because I love you,” Tom said. “I needed to know what was in them, and what it might do to you, before I let you have them. This was before…”

  He blew out another breath. “Before Zoey. But I read them the other night. And I wanted to give you the original letters and…the translations. The correspondence has been numbered, sorted from oldest to newest.” He held out his palm, the thumb drive lying there and drawing Tyler’s gaze.

  “There are a couple of letters in there that look like Marcus cried when he wrote them.” Tyler’s gaze lifted, studying Tom’s mouth as he talked. He licked his lips and chewed on them between sentences, as though forcing the words out took him a Herculean effort. “I’m not sure exactly what I thought I was going to find when I read them, but I wanted to know ahead of time if there were any obvious emotional landmines for you. After reading them, I’m not sure if there are, because I know I can’t read your mind.

  “What I took away, in the end, was that he loved Jean-Claude very much and was a man full of regrets. I also wish I hadn’t spent so many years hating him. I only knew your side of the story—and you had every right to feel the way you did. But I poured energy into my hatred for the man when I would have been better off adding that energy to the love I feel for you.”

  Tyler focused on Tom’s eyes and realized he was crying. “I never want to lose focus again. It’s you, and Nevvie, and me. It’s our kids, our family. I want every ounce of energy I have going to doing things because I love you guys, not split off and focused on someone I hate. Especially someone who really didn’t deserve the level of hatred I spent on him over the years, and which could have been better spent loving you.”

  Tyler slowly reached out and laid his hand over Tom’s, not taking the thumb drive, sandwiching it between their palms. “Who did the translation?”

  “Dad.”

  A soft laugh escaped Tyler. “Of course. I forgot, he taught French and drama.”

  “And he was in Seattle and briefly met Marcus. I mean, he didn’t know all the details, and he still doesn’t. I clarified that you and Marcus had a very short relationship, just days, and then he left unexpectedly, and it hurt you. I did tell him Marcus and Jean-Claude had a Master/slave relationship, because that much he could guess from how Jean-Claude called Marcus ‘Master’ in the letters. But…I didn’t tell him anything beyond that. Nothing about what you told me and Nevvie about Ray and Oot and kitten. Please don’t hate me.”

  Tyler’s fingers curled around the thumb drive, but he didn’t remove his hand from Tom’s. “I could never hate you, love. You’re my life, my heart, my soul, my breath—my strength.”

  He didn’t understand Tom’s choked laugh or why he started crying harder. “Buddy, I’ll never understand why you fell in love with an uncouth Cracker like me, but I’m damn glad you did.” He rested his forehead against Tyler’s. “And if you want those urns to stay with us forever and never scatter them, I’m good with that. They’re together now.”

  “I do want to have them mixed together into one urn, the way Marcus requested. Perhaps put their rings and his day collar in with it.”

  “Whatever you want, buddy. Your call.”

  Tyler only realized he was crying when Tom reached up and brushed the tears from his cheeks. “He wasn’t an evil man,” Tom softly said. “That was my takeaway. He had a conscience and he made some good choices and some bad ones. It boils down to I can look at all of this and I’m glad we were able to be there for him at the end of his life and talk to him. I’m glad we held his hands. I’m glad he didn’t die alone. I’m glad we were able to ease his mind and comfort him. And I really hope it was Jean-Claude he was talkin’ to at the end, because it broke his heart when he lost him.

  “I’d be willing to bet he knew he didn’t have a chance with you when he came to Seattle, but he knew there wasn’t another person out there for him but you and he needed to know for sure. So if that means anything, I don’t think he stopped thinking about you and caring for you. When he walked away from you, he reconciled with Jean-Claude, but I think he honestly thought you’d move on and find someone else, and that was part of why he didn’t contact you again. He didn’t want to feel the pain of letting you go again, or cause you more pain.”

  Tyler nodded and sniffled back tears, but didn’t say anything.

  Tom put the packet of letters in Tyler’s lap and wrapped his arms around him. “I wouldn’t be who I am without you, buddy. I wouldn’t have had the confidence in myself to do half the things I’ve done in my life.”

  “I don’t think I can read them yet. Not right now. Not until we’re farther from…what happened.”

  “I get it. I understand.” He pressed a long, tender kiss to Tyler’s forehead. “And if you want me there when you read them, that’s fine, too. Whatever you want.”

  “Does Nevvie know?”

  “She knows I was going to talk to Dad about translating them. She doesn’t know they’re done, or that I read them. I wanted to tell you first.”

  Tyler nodded, pulling back just enough he could stare into Tom’s sweet brown gaze.

  “That afternoon, you walked in the door smiling,” Tyler said. “One of your friends had apparently said something to you, and you were looking down at your feet, laughing and smiling in a beautifully kind way. As Peggy might have said, like there wasn’t a mean bone in your body. And then when you looked up, your eyes met mine. I was standing behind the counter and talking to one of Haslam’s employees.”

  Tyler cupped Tom’s cheek. “I wasn’t sure how to let you know I was interested in you with a roomful of people between us, but every time I looked for and found you, our eyes met. Then you’d look away, as if worried I’d seen you watching me. And my comment about being interested in a good woman or man was directed only at you, to see how you’d react.

  “When you came through the queue, I watched how you let people go ahead of you, as if you were trying to decide what to say, like you wanted to be toward the end so you could talk to me and needed more time to sort it in your head. You were adorably endearing and flustered when you spoke to me. I know you know all of that, because I’ve told you before, and because you were there.

  “But what I’ve never told you is it felt like I could close my eyes and see our life together ahead of me. You and I, making a life. It was that instinct I have. It wasn’t merely love at first sight. I knew. And I was so, so scared, because I was afraid to screw it up.”

  Tyler dropped the thumb drive in
to his lap and held Tom’s face with both hands. “I almost did screw it up so badly. And you didn’t give up on me. Just like I’ll never give up on you.”

  Tom reached up and laid his hands over Tyler’s, lacing fingers with him. “You’ve never collared me,” Tyler continued, “but I’m your slave and I always have been, in my heart. You never needed to take ownership of me, because you’ve had it, ever since you walked into Haslam’s that day. I’ve belonged to you from the first day we met, and I’ve always known it.”

  Tyler kissed him, foreheads touching once more. “Just like you and I somehow fell for Nevvie together, and now we belong to her the way she belongs to us.”

  Tom leaned Tyler back on the sofa, kissing him, pushing the envelope full of letters out of his way. Tyler dropped the thumb drive on the floor and let Tom shove him back, wrapping his legs around Tom’s waist as he pinned Tyler down on the sofa.

  Tom devoured him, low, needy grunts driving Tyler’s desire through the roof where a moment ago, sex had been the farthest thing from his mind. Tom had shaved that morning and his skin felt soft and smooth with no stubble yet. A stiff bulge pressed against the front of Tyler’s shorts and Tom reached between them to fumble Tyler’s shorts open and fish his cock out from his briefs.

  Tom’s eyes were open, staring into Tyler’s. Tyler couldn’t close his eyes, mesmerized as Tom stroked Tyler’s cock to full hardness and then sat up and stared down at him, smiling.

  “That’s what I wanted.” Tom shoved his own shorts and briefs down far enough it exposed his stiff shaft. Then he leaned in again, propped up on one arm. He spit into his other hand and reached down, fisting their cocks together and slowly stroking.

  All while staring into Tyler’s eyes.

  Never looking away.

  “Got one in you for me, buddy?”

  Tyler’s arms had settled around Tom’s neck, holding on. He nodded.

  As they both leaked pre-cum their shafts grew slick with Tom’s hand stroking them, smearing it around and providing a little lubrication.