Trust An Even Hand

by Chloe Cox

  “Hurt him. Hurt Jimmy.”

  Luke looked down, his eyes dark. Unreadable.

  “I wanted to,” he said.

  “Of course you did,” she said. “So did I. I just…knew you weren’t going to, that’s all.”

  There was a pause. He still held her tight, but somehow she could tell he was farther away.

  “How?” he finally asked.

  “Because it’s you,” she said. “And I asked you not to, and you would never do anything to hurt me.”

  Luke exhaled slowly, and held her a little tighter.

  “That’s right,” he said.

  “If I’m being honest I kinda wish you had, though,” she said, and she smiled into his chest as he laughed again.

  God his laughter sounded nice. When he was happy, it was nice. Being this close was nice.

  “How did you end up here anyway?” she said, and moved her hand across his chest again, just to feel the fine hairs, the soft skin, the hard muscle. I am the world’s luckiest sub, right here.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can hear the Texas in your voice,” she laughed, and pressed off his chest so she could look him in the eye.

  He wasn’t laughing.

  “It’s just weird, we’ve known each other so long, but not well, and…I don’t know much about you,” she finished.

  She wished, she wished, she could read him as well as he read her. That she could figure out what it was behind the wall that went up behind Luke’s eyes as soon as she said those words.

  “You know everything there is to know,” he said. “I’m an engineer, a Dom, a businessman. I’m the man I made myself into. Where I came from had nothing to do with it.”

  Oh.

  It was like that. A lot of people didn’t like talking about their feelings or their pasts; she knew that. Doms were usually better about that, but it looked like she may have found Luke’s hard line.

  And for some reason, that made her just a little bit sad.

  “You did good today,” he said suddenly, and stroked her where his hand still lay between her legs. She was embarrassed by how happy that made her, but even more surprised by how…tired she was? It felt so good, but the rest of her body was trying really hard to yawn.

  And because he was a freaking Dom, he saw.

  Immediately Charlene tried to get up to get started on putting the house back together and getting some food on the table—maybe a different table—and…

  And he pulled her back onto his lap in a happy heap.

  “Don’t get too used to it, but tonight you get pampered,” he said into her ear.

  “I think I’m already used to it,” she said as he stood up with her in his arms.

  He was carrying her again. But this time in a decidedly less caveman-ish way.

  “What are you doing?” she said as she yawned.

  “Putting you to bed,” he said. “I’ll clean up.”

  “No way.”

  “Not up for discussion.”

  He used the voice, and she smiled even as she tried to stifle another yawn. If she weren’t so tired, she would definitely try to find out what disobeying an order would get her. But getting put to bed by a god-like Dom who had just rocked her world was pretty good, too.

  And she tried to ignore the fact that she wished Luke would come to bed with her.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Luke woke up to the smell of bacon and biscuits. Charlene had somehow padded downstairs in the wee hours of the morning and cooked up a breakfast feast fit for an entire football team while he was still asleep. The woman was sneaky.

  Beautiful, submissive, sweet, and sneaky.

  The look on her face as she busied about the kitchen—the look on her face every time she looked at that table he’d bound to her to, every time she looked at him, every time she just plain remembered—was priceless. And got him half hard first goddamn thing.

  It was the best breakfast he’d had in a long time, and if Simone hadn’t arrived to go take Charlene somewhere wedding planning related, he’d have taken his prerogative as a Dom and re-christened that table all over again. Hell, he hadn’t even had time to check to see if she’d remembered his rule about underwear. But that was just as well. He planned to check thoroughly as soon as he got back.

  Because he had shit to do today. He’d kissed Charlene long and hard, and after checking to make sure the security system was turned the hell on this time, he’d gotten on the road. He was her Dom now. Which meant he had business to take care of.

  Luke took the final turn off the highway and had to remind himself to focus. He couldn’t get what Charlene had said the previous night out of his head. He couldn’t get what she felt like out of his head. He’d never lost himself in a sub like that before, but then he’d never had a sub like her before, either.

  But she’d said she believed in him. She’d said she knew he wouldn’t hurt Jimmy, because she’d asked him not to.

  Even Luke was never sure of that.

  Not since he’d crossed that line, all those years ago. He’d never done it since, never broken in anger at anyone but his own father, but he always lived with the knowledge that if he ever let that go, he might never come back. Just like his father.

  And the truth was, when it came to Charlene, it was different. She said she knew Luke wouldn’t do anything she didn’t want him to do—and she was right. That it was for her was enough to stop him, to keep that beast at bay. And maybe that should worry him. But he’d driven up on her house, saw that truck, and he swore to God that if Jimmy had hurt a hair on her head…

  But he hadn’t. She was fine.

  And Luke was going to make damn sure it stayed that way. He was on the next street over. He’d be there in just a minute.

  And his phone rang.

  “Little sister, this is not the best time,” he said as he picked up the call.

  “It never is with you,” Rosie retorted.

  Luke grinned. “What’s up, cupcake?”

  “You know I hate that nickname. I’m not that sweet.”

  “Uh-huh. You know I love you, but you have two minutes.”

  “Oh good, I’ll just confirm your arrival date real quick,” Rosie said, not missing a beat. “When are you coming for the wedding? You can stay with me, obviously, just let me know if you’re bringing a plus-one.”

  Luke shook his head. Only his sister. He’d ignore that last bit, but the rest of it had to be dealt with.

  “Do you really think this is going to work, Rosie?” he said as gently as he could. Which wasn’t very gently, given what he was about to go do. “You can’t fix this, little sister. Mom’s not gonna want me there, and I can’t say I blame her.”

  “I do think this will work,” she said, “and I do think I can fix this, and you know I don’t like hearing you talk about yourself like that.”

  “That don’t change reality.”

  “Hey, if you hadn’t done what you did, she never would have met this new guy, right? How can she still be mad?”

  What he’d done was snapped and beaten back on his old man, right out in the yard, with his mother watching. It had chased the drunken son of a bitch off for good, which meant no more drunken violence. And his mother had never forgiven him for it.

  “Feelings aren’t about logic,” he said.

  “But maybe—”

  “I’ll think about it, Rosie,” he said. It was hard on her, always trying to fix something that couldn’t be fixed. “Ok?”

  “I’ll take it,” she said. “For now. But I’m not giving up, you hear me?”

  “Hug those kids for me,” he said, and hung up.

  Just in time. He pulled up across the street from a house that looked normal, if you ignored all the security cameras, the enlarged driveway, the extra cars parked along the street. If Jimmy was staying here, he wasn’t lonely.

  Charlene had finally told him what rumors Jimmy Walters had been out there peddling. Rumors that the club hurt Simone Delavi
gne somehow, rumors designed to mess up a wedding, rumors designed to just generally fuck with Club Volare people. And she’d told him Jimmy was after her house. Since Jimmy was staying here, at Alan Crennel’s rival BDSM club, Luke assumed there was a connection. None of it made much sense to Luke, but that’s because he wasn’t a slimy bastard. He’d figure it out, in time.

  But right now? Right now the bullshit was going to stop. Luke would not tolerate threats to anyone he cared about, and that went double for his sub. And for Charlene Bastien in particular? There was no goddamn limit to what he would do to protect her.

  Time to have a little chat with Jimmy.

  Charlene could not stop smiling. She kept looking out the side window of Simone’s car, kept covering her mouth with her hand, trying to hide it. It was a little ridiculous.

  “I can’t believe you,” Simone said.

  Charlene tried to look as innocent as possible. She hadn’t told anyone about her and Luke yet, and didn’t plan to until…well, until she knew what it meant, exactly.

  “What are you talking about?” she said a little warily.

  Simone gave her the side-eye.

  “Your head is in the clouds, you’re kind of glowing a little bit, and you haven’t asked me once where we’re going, even though I told you it’s something for the wedding,” Simone said.

  “I got a good night’s sleep, that’s all,” Charlene lied.

  “Uh-huh,” Simone said. “Who are you and what have you done with Charlene Bastien?”

  “Hush.”

  Simone laughed, stealing another glance as she drove them deeper into New Orleans. Charlene looked out the window again and tried not to think too hard about the fact that Simone was right. It was not like her to just leave the details to someone else, especially about this wedding. She was all together too relaxed. That was worrying.

  “Ok, but where are we going?” Charlene asked.

  “There she is!” Simone said, grinning. “Don’t be mad, but I thought I might have a solution to your dress situation, so I figured I’d just get you there before you had a chance to say no. Let me keep it a surprise?”

  “Wait, I know this neighborhood,” Charlene said.

  “Now you hush,” Simone said. “Surprise.”

  Charlene studied the passing trees and long houses with bright-painted sides and sharp, sloping roofs, and clapped her hands together.

  “Are you taking me to Belle Donna’s house?”

  “Damn it, I should have blindfolded you.”

  “But she’s booked until forever with actual department stores and business orders and she’s just getting off the ground and—”

  “And when I told her it was a favor for you, she literally shouted yes before I could finish my sentence, she was so happy.”

  Inwardly, Charlene winced a little.

  “You did tell her it was not actually a dress for me, right?” she said. The last thing she wanted was to be congratulated on her non-existent, probably-never-existent-again wedding. “It’s Olivia’s dress.”

  Simone smiled sneakily. “Yeah, that didn’t hurt either. Olivia might have retired, but she was still a movie star. Getting to make a famous actress’s wedding dress as a favor to her mentor? Not a hard sell.”

  Huh.

  Simone was right, obviously. Why hadn’t she just asked Belle Donna? Because you got anxious and didn’t trust anyone to want to help you.

  Just as obviously, she’d been crazy wrong. She could see that now. Thanks to one persistent and very skilled Dom.

  Charlene laughed and settled in, happy to see Simone so…well, happy. Happy-ish? Relaxed, definitely. Simone hadn’t smiled like this since she’d been with Holt, before she’d ended up in the hospital and then rehab, and before she’d truly gotten sober. Simone had come back to the club since getting sober, but she hadn’t been with any Doms.

  And Charlene had just found out that the rumors her own ex-husband was spreading were about Simone. The last thing she wanted to do was tell Simone and ruin her day, but she kept thinking about what Luke had said—protecting people from their own feelings was, to use his word, bullshit.

  “What?” Simone said. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Nothing,” Charlene said.

  For the first time, Simone looked annoyed. “I’m not a kid, Char,” she said. “I’m not some fragile china doll.”

  “I know, I—”

  “It just feels like ever since I got out of the hospital, everyone treats me like I’m about to break in two,” Simone went on. She didn’t seem to be talking about Charlene anymore. “I’m not about to break. I can handle it. Whatever it is.”

  Oh man. Simone wasn’t just annoyed with Charlene. Whatever else happened, Charlene was going to have to have a long talk with Holt eventually. For a second, she almost regretted ditching him the previous day.

  “You’re right,” Charlene said. “I’m sorry. Jimmy came by the house yesterday, and—”

  “Are you ok?”

  Charlene smiled at Simone’s concern. It was sweet, but Charlene had dealt with worse, and she’d gotten the world’s best Dom out of the situation.

  “I’m fine,” Charlene said. About a million miles past fine, all the way to amazing. “But…he did tell me what rumors they’ve been spreading. Sort of.”

  Simone exhaled, checked her rearview, and glanced sidelong at her friend.

  “They’re about me, aren’t they?” she said. “About why I was in the hospital.”

  “I think so,” Charlene said. “I don’t really know more than that. I am so sorry I married such a piece of shit, Simone.”

  “He fooled everyone, Char,” Simone said. “It’s not your fault.”

  Charlene blinked. No, it couldn’t be her fault.

  But it sure as hell still felt like it.

  “If it’s anyone’s fault,” Simone went on, “it’s mine. God, I feel fucking awful. Like, I screw up again, and this time it’s the people who’ve taken care of me who pay for it. I owe Club Volare so much, and I just…”

  “Hey!” Charlene said. “It’s not your fault either. It’s my scumbag ex-husband’s fault, and no one else’s.”

  Simone pulled onto Belle Donna’s street and smiled up at Charlene.

  “That sounded like something Luke would say,” she said.

  Charlene looked away and just sort of slyly nodded. She still didn’t plan to spill the beans about her brand new submission, but Simone had a point. Luke had gotten in her head.

  And she had to wonder: what was he up to right now?

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Luke had never been to Alan Crennel’s Sinsations BDSM club—damn, even the name was terrible—but he’d heard about it from the time Gavin Colson had to come down here to protect his sub. That was getting to be a pattern, Club Volare Doms having to come down here to protect their own. The kind of pattern that needed to be stopped.

  Luke was in a stopping kind of mood.

  The place looked full, but that was only because of its relatively small size. Where Club Volare was in a huge, re-purposed mansion, this was a regular house. It was the kind of place where you’d find a fetish party or what have you before Club Volare came to town. Nothing wrong with this one, except for the people who ran it.

  Hell of a lot wrong with them.

  There were a few people hanging around their cars, parked up on the front yard or in the street, smoking cigarettes or taking breaks while the hired bouncer watched over all of it from the front door. A few of the cigarette smokers looked drunk. First bad sign—impairment and BDSM did not mix. At all. Somebody wasn’t looking out for the subs in this place.

  The cameras everywhere were another bad sign. Especially since if nothing much had changed since Gavin had made his trip down here, most of the cameras were inside the club, recording, and not everybody knew about them.

  Truth be told, seemed like exactly the kind of place where Charlene’s ex would hole up.

  Luke got out of
his truck, his eye on the bouncer, and slowly made his way up the walk to the front door. He could feel eyes on him as he moved, so he knew he looked exactly how he felt.

  And he felt like he wanted to beat the ever-loving crap out of Jimmy Walters.

  Which was why he was going slow. Why he was breathing deep. He didn’t want to cross that line again. He’d spent his whole adult life making sure he didn’t become that kind of monster. It had always been his greatest struggle. His greatest fear.

  And now the only thing that scared him more than that was the thought of anything happening to Charlene.

  Monster vs. Dom.

  Luke didn’t know who would win.

  And by the looks of it, neither did the bouncer, who was eying him warily.

  “I have business with someone inside,” Luke said to him. “Jimmy Walters. It’s better if he comes out here.”

  The bouncer rubbed his hand over his buzzed head and looked up at Luke. He was uncertain. Young. Couldn’t have been more than twenty. Luke thought he recognized him from some construction crews.

  “I’m not supposed to let anyone in,” he finally said.

  “That’s why I’m telling you to go get him,” Luke said. “You a member here?”

  “What? Nah, it’s just a job.”

  “Then do your job,” Luke ordered. “Keep the trouble out of the club. And do it now.”

  The younger man swallowed heavily, then ducked his head. He opened the door and stuck his head inside the club to talk to someone, weird, trippy, bass-heavy music leaking out after him.

  Luke could take him if he needed to. He could take any and all of the Doms in this club, if he needed to. But he only wanted one.

  As if by magic, the door opened again, and out stepped Jimmy Walters.

  Luke had stepped back from the front door to give the bouncer space, but Jimmy came right at him, getting a little too close. Brave in front of his friends. Luke didn’t move, just watched. Charlene’s ex-husband was in leather pants, a mesh shirt, an angry gleam in his eye. The smell of whiskey everywhere.

  The smell got to Luke. Not just because it was the smell he remembered from his father. But because a drunk Dom was a dangerous Dom. And that meant there were subs in there in need of protection.