Insatiable

by HELEN HARDT

  “But I don’t take it into real life. I don’t even always do it in the bedroom. Most of the people at the club were like me. It was just a place where we could play out scenes with willing partners.”

  “You had partners?”

  “Duh, Bryce. You think you can dominate thin air?”

  “No. I mean, you were with that one woman. Karen, was it?”

  “Kerry. Kerry Ross. Yeah, she was my sub for a while, but she was never my slave outside the club, though she wanted to be.”

  “Slave?”

  “That’s a sub who’s submissive in all aspects of life, not just the bedroom. Not my thing. I never wanted a slave. I wanted an equal.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”

  “It’s all safe with me. You have to know that.”

  “Right. It’s still weird. This part of me has always been very private.”

  “If it helps, you don’t need to tell me about you at all. Just about Booker.”

  “You need to know about the other stuff to understand. Booker was a male switch, the only one at the club.”

  “And that’s unusual?”

  “Switches are unusual, yeah. Usually you’re one or the other, dominant or submissive. But a switch is a different kind of personality.”

  “Doesn’t seem that weird,” I said. “Okay, it’s all a little weird to me, but why wouldn’t you want to experience both sides of the coin?”

  “He wasn’t just a switch. He was a bisexual switch. He played with both men and women, and he topped and bottomed for both.”

  “Topped?”

  “Top means taking the dominant role. Bottom is submissive.”

  “Okay, not my cup of tea, or yours apparently. But surely being a bisexual switch isn’t altogether unusual.”

  “I suppose it isn’t, but he was the only one at our club.”

  “Anything else?”

  “That’s it. I’m not a voyeur, so I never watched him in action.”

  “You mean others…”

  “Yeah, every club has a certain number of voyeurs and exhibitionists. Those who go to watch and be watched. I didn’t fall into either category. No one watched me. I had a private suite.”

  Of course a Steel would have a private suite at an underground leather club. This was so much TMI.

  “That’s a shame.”

  “A shame I had a private suite?”

  “No, not that. A shame you never watched Booker. You might have some insight if you had.”

  “Dude, you just gave me a visual I didn’t want.”

  I couldn’t help a laugh. “Sorry.”

  That got a chuckle out of him.

  “Can you ask Melanie? About whether a switch has any psychological issues?”

  “I already have. She says like any other kink, it can be perfectly normal behavior. It’s not the preference that’s ever the issue. It’s the person.”

  “And doing it with both men and women?”

  “Also normal.”

  “Maybe his sexual behavior is normal, but Booker is anything but.”

  “Knowing what I know now,” Joe said, “I agree with you.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Marjorie

  Bertram Valente was dead.

  I’d scoured the obits and found several Bertram Valentes, but only one in Colorado. The ages matched up. He could easily have been Justin Valente’s father.

  So where was Justin’s mother?

  I had no idea, and nowhere to turn…other than to my best friend, who was also the City Attorney.

  I walked to the main house and found her relaxing in a recliner in the family room with a glass of juice.

  “Hey,” she said when she saw me.

  “Hey. I hate to ask you this, but are you still up to checking the city’s databases for Justin Valente?”

  “Yeah. Of course. I want to help. But Talon—”

  I stopped her with a gesture. “We’re all in this together. You have a resource, and we should be using it.”

  She nodded. “I wholeheartedly agree. Problem is, I can’t access the server from here. Only from the office. That’s part of the security stuff I had installed. We’ll have to go into town.”

  “What about Mary?”

  “I’m still the boss.”

  “I know, but if she sees us snooping around…”

  “She won’t. We’ll use my office.”

  “She’s not using it?”

  “No, she’s using the other office. The one I used when Larry was City Attorney.”

  An hour later, we were in Jade’s office. Mary had taken off for her lunch break, so we wouldn’t have any interruptions.

  “I just had a thought,” I said. “What if someone got into the databases and made changes again, like before?”

  “They shouldn’t be able to. Not after the safety upgrades I had installed.”

  “I know, but these people, Jade. They get away with everything. Someone walked into a mental health facility and took my disabled mother away…and no one seemed the wiser.”

  “Well,” Jade said, “we’ll soon find out. I’m going in.”

  She tapped on the computer and went through screen after screen. Wow. She really had put in top-notch security.

  “The city of Snow Creek really paid for all this?” I said, flabbergasted.

  “Oh, no. I didn’t even ask. Talon gave me the money to have this done.”

  I nodded. I should have known. Maybe this security would hold after all.

  “Bingo,” Jade said, coming to a screen. “Here he is. Justin C. Valente. Father Bertram Valente. Mother Cadence Russo Valente. Last known address just outside of town. He would have been bused to school.”

  “With your brothers?”

  “No. Looks like he lived east of town.”

  “So we check out the house?”

  “We can, but I’m sure they’ve been gone forever. I can check the property records.” She tapped furiously. “Looks like they rented a small place on someone’s farm.”

  “Did he have any brothers or sisters?”

  “No, not that it says. The school records don’t show any siblings. Looks like an only child.”

  “Okay. My research shows that Bertram Valente is dead. Died ten years ago, shot at a convenience store.”

  “Yeah.” She tapped. “Just substantiating that.”

  “Did they ever catch who did it?” I asked.

  “Doesn’t look like it. It’s an unsolved case in Denver.”

  “So Bertram Valente left Snow Creek, went to Denver.”

  “Looks like it. He bought a— Wow!”

  “What?”

  “He bought a freaking mansion nearly thirty years ago in Cherry Hills. That’s posh Denver.”

  “And his wife?”

  “Let me check. They divorced about a year later. It’s all here. Public records.”

  “What happened to her?” I asked.

  “Looks like she remarried… Let me get the name.” Then she swallowed and turned pale.

  “What? What is it?”

  “She married a man named Booker. Richard Booker.”

  Chills rattled my flesh. “Booker? As in Cade Booker? Dominic and Alessandra Booker?” Thoughts whirled in my head. “Justin C. Valente. Cade must be his middle name. Cade, Cadence. After his mother.”

  Jade typed frantically. “Here are the birth certificates. Dominic James Booker and Alessandra Cadence Booker. Father is Richard Booker, mother is Cadence Russo. Shit. The. Fucking. Bed.”

  “Dominic James. That’s the name he uses for training.”

  “Is he even a trainer?”

  “He claims he went to UCLA and studied… Oh, hell. I don’t even know. Does it matter? Is he really any better than his half brother? He claims he’s acting on orders to keep me safe, but he still drugged me and took me against my will.”

  Jade was still staring at her computer screen. “They can’t be the same person. Justin died, r
ight? He’s dead. Tom Simpson killed him.”

  “No,” I said quietly. “Tom Simpson drugged him, and then Tom Simpson bought him.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Bryce

  “Now we just have to find the bastard.” Joe shuffled through all the records Jade had printed out.

  We were at the main house, outside as usual. Marjorie had grilled burgers, but none of us were particularly hungry. The food sat uneaten on platters in the center of the table.

  I swallowed, trying to dislodge the apple-sized lump in my throat. Now we just have to find the bastard.

  I couldn’t fault Joe’s words, but if Cade Booker was indeed a bastard, Joe and I had something to do with it.

  We’d taken him camping. We’d given my father access to him.

  “Don’t do this to yourself.” Marjorie rubbed my forearm. “This isn’t your fault. You’re not the one who sold your son.”

  Just the thought made anger rage within me. I was a father, for God’s sake, and I’d do anything—anything—to protect my son. This motherfucker, this Bertram Valente.

  Still, if we hadn’t taken Justin camping…

  “Please. Stop,” Marjorie said softly.

  The others were talking, but the words jumbled in my head. Only the warmth of Marjorie’s hand helped keep me sane.

  Because I knew the truth.

  This was our fault. Joe’s and mine, and more mine, because my father had taken us camping. We’d had no intention to harm him, but that didn’t negate the fact that, but for us, my father would have never known Justin Valente.

  Justin hadn’t died after all, and his father had given him up and been quieted by my father’s money.

  Then what had happened? So far, we knew only that he’d “returned” after his mother had remarried Richard Booker and Dominic and Alessandra were in their teens. He changed his name to Cade and took the last name Booker. Had he truly trained with the FBI? That could have been totally fabricated. My father could have taught him to handle weapons as well or better than the FBI. Cade’s law degree could be fabricated, as well.

  Where had he been during those lost years? Dominic was twenty-four now and had been sixteen when Cade returned. That was only eight years ago.

  We knew absolutely nothing.

  “…probably trained as a slave,” Ruby was saying. “That’s what they did to the rest of the kids. Those who were trouble were killed, and some probably died from the training. Whatever happened to Cade, we know he didn’t die.”

  I eyed Joe. He shook his head at me slightly.

  I suppressed the bit of anger that threatened to emerge. I’d never spill the beans about the leather club. But Cade knew who Joe was. He’d clearly been watching Joe through the club, and the rest of us through… I didn’t know. Dominic had said his brother was obsessed with the Steels and with my father.

  My father was now dead, and I was the substitute. Or perhaps I’d never been the substitute. After all, I was the one who’d invited him camping.

  Marjorie’s hand never left my arm, though she did join in the conversation.

  “Alex was a lot more hotheaded than Dominic,” she said. “She didn’t have a lot of patience with Colin or me, didn’t seem to understand that we didn’t like being taken against our will, and if we didn’t want her protection, we could just leave. She even said she wanted to crush my skull at one point.”

  I’ll crush your damned skull.

  I moved my arm from her touch. “Say that again.”

  “What? Alex didn’t have any patience.”

  “No. The last thing. She said she wanted to crush your skull?”

  This time Joe took note as well, his brow rising.

  “Yeah. I think those are the words she used. Big deal. She thought she was tougher than she was.”

  “It is a big deal,” I said. “Joe and I used to use that phrase when we were kids, didn’t we?”

  Joe nodded. “And we must have heard it somewhere.”

  “Not from here,” Talon said. “I don’t remember Dad ever saying it, and I didn’t even hear that in the military—and believe me, I heard a lot of shit there I don’t want to repeat.”

  I cleared my throat. “I don’t remember”—true—“but we must have heard it from my father.”

  “And Alex probably heard it from Cade,” Joe said, “who probably heard it from…”

  “My father,” I mumbled.

  Marjorie lifted her hand to touch my forearm once more, but I moved it away from her. I didn’t want comfort at the moment.

  I didn’t deserve it.

  “Not your fault,” she mouthed.

  She was right.

  I’d been nine years old. Nine fucking years old.

  “You guys are missing something really important here,” Jade was saying. “Cade may have been abused, but he got away.”

  “He’s a mess, though,” Ryan said.

  “But he’s alive. He didn’t die there, wherever there was. He just needs help.”

  “He’s not the one who kidnapped Mom and me,” Marjorie said. “That was his half brother and sister.” She held up her hand. “I know. You’re going to say—if Dominic is to be believed—that he did it for our protection. Protection from Cade. But the reality of the situation is that Cade didn’t do anything to us.”

  “He did to Bryce and me,” Joe said. “My eyes still don’t feel quite right.”

  “We were holding him at gunpoint,” I interjected.

  “Assault with a deadly weapon,” Jade said.

  “We didn’t assault him,” Joe said.

  “Doesn’t matter. Assault doesn’t actually require anything physical. The legal definition is simply the threat of physical violence. Technically you both did assault him.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Joe said.

  “Easy,” Talon said.

  “Maybe we did,” I said. “He had it coming. I’m sorry for whatever he endured at the hands of my father or anyone else, but he’s been fucking with us for a long time now. We know that.”

  “What?” Ryan said. “A long time now?”

  Shit. Joe eyed me once more. The rest of them didn’t know about his association with Cade at the club, and I’d just shot off my mouth.

  “Seems like a long time, anyway,” I said.

  That seemed to appease them.

  “His mother died in a drive-by shooting,” Joe said. “In a tiny town in Iowa, right before Cade returned. Don’t tell me that doesn’t stink.”

  I nodded. Joe was right. “I’m guessing Cade was involved. Offing his mother for selling him—”

  “Wait,” Marj said. “How would Cade know what his father did? And do we even know his mother was in on it?”

  “Whether Cade knew or not,” Talon said, “he could easily have blamed his parents for everything. For letting him go camping. For not finding him. A million different reasons. You have to understand. When you’re in that situation…” He shook his head. “You’ll blame just about anyone or anything.”

  “He needs help,” Jade said. “We should get Melanie’s opinion.”

  “Leave Melanie out of this,” Joe said. “She has her hands full in the city with the baby. I’ve got bodyguards on them as it is. I don’t want her bothered with anything else.”

  “Do we know how Cade’s father died?” Ryan asked.

  “Shot in a convenience store nine years ago,” Marj said. “Jade and I found the records.”

  “Timing is just about right,” I said. “What do you bet Cade knocked off his old man and his mom both?”

  “If he did, who can blame him?” Marj said. “His father sold him like goods to be tortured and abused.”

  “We don’t actually know what he went through,” Joe said.

  “Joe, come on,” Marjorie said. “We know.”

  “Actually,” I said, “there’s a lot we don’t know. Where he was taken. What he went through. How he got out. Whether he was really trained by the FBI. Whether he actually went to law
school. And there’s only one way to find all this out. We have to find him.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Marjorie

  I looked to Talon. His gaze was glassy.

  I knew the look.

  He was remembering.

  My scar on my thigh began to tingle and itch.

  But for my conception…

  No. Can’t go there. Not now. Not when we have all this other stuff to figure out.

  Damn it!

  No more self-indulgence. How many times had I said that to myself? How many fucking times?

  My phone buzzed. A text.

  From Colin Morse.

  My cufflinks are gone.

  Shocking.

  When was the last time you saw them?

  I have no idea. Years. I never

  wore them. I just assumed they

  were in the bottom of my dresser

  drawer like they always were.

  I cleared my throat. “I just got a text from Colin. His cufflinks are indeed missing.”

  “Can he look at the one we found?” Ruby asked. “Tell if it’s a match?”

  “Plus the one we found at my father’s cabin,” Bryce said.

  “He’s in Denver right now,” I said. “We can send him a photo.”

  Ruby nodded. “The cufflink, the baseball card—”

  “Shit,” I said. “Why didn’t I think of this before? Dominic said he coaches baseball. That he had a scholarship to play but had to quit because of an injury.”

  “You’re thinking Dominic might be the bad guy here?” Ruby said.

  “Not necessarily. Not that drugging people isn’t a bad thing. But if he was interested in baseball and was talented at it, it’s possible his older brother was as well.”

  “They have different fathers,” Ryan said.

  “So? You’re a lot like Talon and Joe and you have diff—” I stopped abruptly. “I’m sorry, Ry.”

  “No, it’s okay. You’re right. You’re right.”

  Ruby laid her hand over Ryan’s.