Renegade (Phoenix Rising)

by Blake, Brynley

  A discreet cough makes me realize I’m still holding her, and I drop my hands like she’s a bomb about to detonate. In those skinny jeans that hug her ass, she might as well be. The source of the cough—a distinguished-looking man in his early forties, wearing an expensive suit—is standing in the doorway, looking at me with raised eyebrows. He nods toward me.

  “Who is this?” he asks Gemma.

  “Oh, right. This is Walker.”

  I’ve never heard Gemma sound flustered before, and I look at the guy more closely. He’s attractive enough, I guess, but he’s not right for Gemma. He’s too old, for one thing, and there’s something about him I don’t like. Maybe it’s the fact that Gemma looks at him like a love-struck teenager. Or maybe because it’s obvious he just had her pressed against the front door, kissing her until her lips are slightly swollen, a voice in my head says derisively. I mentally shake my head. I don’t give a shit who Gemma dates.

  Still, she’s like a little sister to me, and I want him to know if he fucks with her, he fucks with me. Pulling myself up to my full five feet and eleven inches, I take a step forward and hold out my hand. “Walker Kinkaid. And you are?” I fix him with my most intimidating stare.

  He doesn’t look away. “Declan Campbell,” he says, shaking my hand.

  We stare each other down, neither of us wanting to be the first to look away, until Gemma interrupts.

  “Walker is one of my oldest and best friends. He just got in last night from the Philippines.”

  Declan relaxes a bit, but he still regards me warily. “Well, I guess you two have a lot to catch up on then. I’ll say good night.” He turns to Gemma and says, “Think about what we talked about. I’ll call you when I get back.”

  “So much for being a cat lady,” I say after he’s left.

  She sighs and flops down on the couch. “I know. They say you always find someone when you’re not looking, but that was fast!”

  “You just met him,” I point out.

  “Yeah, but there’s something about him…” She trails off with a secret smile, and I inexplicably dislike the guy even more. Why have I never noticed Gemma’s lips before? They’re full and pink and perfectly shaped, and my traitorous imagination immediately conjures up an image of those lips wrapped around my cock while she stares up at me with her big green eyes.

  Her voice breaks through my completely inappropriate thoughts. “But enough about Declan. You wanted to know about me and Kenzie going to California to visit the guy Liam saved.”

  I’m as relieved as she seems to be to change the subject. “I do. Tell me about it.”

  Gemma slips off her fuck-me heels and stretches out on the sofa, propping her feet on my thighs. “It was just a couple of weeks after Liam died. As you know, everyone loved Liam, and McKenzie got hundreds of condolences in the mail, on Facebook and Twitter, and in email. So many that she almost missed his. His name was Steve Morris, and he sent her a message that said the usual—he was sorry for her loss, Liam was a hero, blah, blah, blah. But at the end, he told her who he was—the man Liam had died saving—and that Liam had given him something to give to her right before he died.

  “Kenzie was pretty raw emotionally at that time. This guy was one of the last people Liam had seen before he died, and he said he had something Liam wanted her to have. So of course, she wanted to see him. She wrote him back and asked if she could meet him in person as soon as possible. He agreed, and a few days later, she and I flew to San Francisco to see him. He even picked us up at the airport.”

  I frown. “That wasn’t safe. You didn’t even know him.” I lean forward. “When exactly did you guys go?”

  “Let’s see…” She picks up her phone and opens the calendar. After a couple of swipes, she says, “April first. It was a Saturday. Why?”

  “Did he drive you back to the airport?”

  “No. We stayed at his house for a few hours, and then he drove us back to the hotel. We stayed overnight in San Francisco and took an Uber to the airport the next day.” She sits up and crosses her arms over her chest. “Okay. Tell me why you have your serious, intense face on or I’m not going to tell you anything else.”

  I arch an eyebrow at her. “Is that right?”

  She tilts her head to the side cockily, determined to outwait me. A long silence passes before I relent. “He died that day in a freak car accident.”

  “What? He’s dead?”

  I nod. “He was on Highway 101. He must have just left your hotel.”

  “And?” she presses. “I can tell there’s more.” Gemma knows me well.

  “And I wonder if it wasn’t an accident at all. I wonder if someone killed him on purpose, and if so, was it because they wanted him dead or because they wanted Kenzie dead and thought she was with him?”

  “Why would someone want to kill McKenzie?”

  I absentmindedly rub her feet. She moans as her head rolls back, and my cock hardens immediately. What the fuck? I try to focus on our conversation. “That’s the million-dollar question. The necklace he gave Kenzie…she said it had a silver emblem on it that stood for valor. Did he say anything else about it?”

  “Not really. Just that it was rightfully McKenzie’s, since her brother had saved his life.”

  “Is that exactly what he said?”

  She rolls her eyes. “It was something like that!”

  “Think, Gem. What did he say exactly? This is important.”

  She closes her eyes for a minute, her long lashes sweeping over the curve of her cheek. Then she opens her eyes and shakes her head. “I can’t remember exactly. I’m sorry. Dr. Morris said that right before he died, Liam gave it to him and asked him to get it to his sister so she’d know what kind of man he was. Not that Kenzie needed a necklace to know Liam was a hero.”

  “Do you know where he got it?”

  She shakes her head. “That was really it. When he handed it to her, he said what I already told you. McKenzie said it was beautiful and asked him what the symbol stood for. He said, ‘Valor.’ Did Charlotte give you the necklace?”

  “No. She’s looking for it. She says she can’t find it.”

  Gemma frowns. “That’s not like Charlotte.”

  “True. I’m sure it will turn up—this is Charlotte, after all—but I can’t wait around for that. I’m headed to California the day after tomorrow. I’m going to talk to Dr. Morris’s family and see what they know about the necklace. I have a feeling it means something.”

  Gemma sits up abruptly. “I’m coming with you.”

  “Nope. Forget it! I already have enough to worry about, keeping McKenzie safe. I’m not putting you in danger too.”

  “Well, no one’s trying to kill me because my brother hid stolen weapons,” she rationalizes. “And even if they were, I can take care of myself. I know how to shoot a gun, and thanks to some extensive hand-to-hand combat training, I can take down a man twice my size. I was taught by the best.” She regards me coolly. “Unless you’re doubting your skills as an instructor.”

  I don’t try to hide my grin. “You manipulative little shit.” How dare she turn this back on me. But Gemma’s always had a quick mind and impressive reasoning skills. Not to mention straight, full-on ballsiness. It’s a lethal combination. In high school, she could talk her way out of just about anything. “Well played,” I concede. “But the answer’s still no.”

  “C’mon. Don’t be such a chauvinist. I could help. What makes you think his family’s going to tell anything to some badass, scary-looking guy they’ve never seen before?”

  “I’m not scary looking,” I say with a frown.

  “Yes, you are. You look imposing as hell with that intense stare thing you do and all those muscles. Well, at least, until you smile. But they’ve met me before, so I’m a shoo-in. Please!” She pouts adorably and stares up at me with those mesmerizing green eyes, and I’m a fucking goner. God help the man she marries.

  But she has a point. Dr. Morris’s family is more likely to talk to me i
f she sets up the meeting and goes with me. Besides, Gemma can take care of herself. I made damn sure of that nine years ago. But the thought of spending every second with her, of sharing a hotel room and, God forbid, maybe even a bed with her, sounds like more than I can handle right now. Because I can’t seem to stop thinking about my best friend as something more. And I know she has no interest in anything other than friendship. She made that crystal clear when we first met and she informed me, in no uncertain terms, that she would never be part of my “harem,” as she called it.

  “Don’t you have to work?” It’s my last hope.

  “Nope!” she crows. “It’s too hot and muggy here right now for outdoor engagement photos, and we don’t even have any weddings booked until the end of the month. I did all my outstanding photo edits while I was in New York and got caught up with paperwork today. I’ll wrap up everything else tomorrow, and Charlotte can hold down the fort this week.” She bats her lashes at me. “So, I can go?”

  “Fine,” I say with a slow grin.

  “Yay!” She throws her arms around me and plants a kiss on my lips. I have a feeling I might have just made the biggest mistake of my life.

  …

  The next day while Gemma’s at work, I make our flight arrangements, book a hotel room—one with two beds!—rent a car, and spend the rest of the afternoon analyzing Liam’s bucket list. Yesterday, I’d found the copy of the list in Kenzie’s dresser drawer, right where she said it would be, made a photocopy to keep for myself, and spent a solid two hours trying to figure out a geographical pattern to it. The items on the list span the globe, and I’d wondered if mapping the various locations would show anything of interest, maybe make a picture or show a pattern that might be a clue of some sort. Unfortunately, it just yielded a meaningless crisscross of lines, no matter how I tried to configure it. So I’m back to the drawing board today.

  I go over it again. McKenzie’s already tackled waterfall jumping in Costa Rica, an all-nighter in Vegas, sailing the islands of the Philippines, tweeting from the equator, and diving in Malaysia. A few other things, like swimming with sharks and seeing the Northern Lights, she and Noah will do over the next few weeks. Which leaves riding the Pacific Coast Highway, some places to visit, some odds and ends like getting a tattoo and a dog, and a handful of sexual things.

  Leave it to Liam, I think with a grin. His sexual escapades were legendary, and more often than not, I was right there with him—his wingman and partner in crime. But clearly, there were some things left he wanted to explore. I look at the list again. I’m kind of surprised he never joined the mile-high club, but to be fair, our airplane travel usually involved a bunch of dudes and a parachute exit. I’ll leave that one to Noah and McKenzie. When I was around them, the chemistry between those two was off the charts.

  As for the rest…I’m up for the challenge. If I have to have sex with beautiful women for the sake of a friend and a fellow SEAL, I’ll take one for the team. Besides, I need to get Gemma out of my head. “Thanks, bro,” I say to the sky. I’m sure Liam’s up there charming the robes off the angels and sending their halos rolling.

  I look at the list again. Visit the Dominion. I looked it up yesterday and found out it’s a BDSM club in San Francisco. It was one of the things Liam added right before he died, so it must have been a relatively new interest of his. Other than the basics, I don’t know a lot about BDSM, much less what goes on at a club. But I figure since I’m going to be in California anyway meeting with Dr. Morris’s family, I might as well knock this out while I’m there. Alone. There’s no way I’m taking Gemma there.

  I spend the next few hours trying to find out what I can about the Dominion. There’s not a lot of information on the internet about the club itself, which makes sense for privacy reasons, but there’s enough for me to realize I’ve got to get vetted to attend. And that means I’ve got to act like I know what I’m doing and make some contacts in the lifestyle in the area. That leads to another few hours of research, which involves reading a lot and looking at a shitload of porn. Hey, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.

  I find myself getting hard at the images of women bound and blindfolded, and the clear mutual pleasure enjoyed by both parties to the exchange of power. Who knew this shit was so fucking hot? I’m almost grateful when Charlotte calls to tell me her car broke down and asks if I can come pick her up. Any more “research” and my cock is going to explode.

  “Sorry to bother you,” she says apologetically. “I can call Gemma if you’re busy, but she’s at a meeting, and you know a lot more about cars than she does.”

  “Stop it. You’re not bothering me. And of course you should have called me. I’ll be right there. Tell me the cross streets.”

  I grab the keys to the rental car and rush out the door, not wanting to leave her standing by the side of the road any longer than necessary. Charleston might be relatively safe, but a stranded woman is always a target. An hour and a half later, I’ve rescued her and determined the problem—a bad battery—and we’ve jump-started her car, gone to the auto parts store to get her a new one, and then driven back to her place, where I put it in for her.

  “Have you found the necklace?” I ask her as I wash my hands at her kitchen sink.

  She’s at the stove, stirring something delicious smelling. “No. It’s the weirdest thing. I’m sure it’s here somewhere. I promise I will turn the place upside down tonight and find it. You want to stay for dinner?”

  “Nah. Gemma and I are headed to San Francisco tomorrow, and I have a lot to do tonight before we go. Thank you, though. It smells amazing. Can I have a rain check?”

  “Sure,” she says with a smile. “Thanks for being my knight in shining armor. I owe you one.”

  She follows me to the door. “I have no idea how Gemma talked you into taking her with you to California…” She stops, rolling her eyes. “Actually, I know exactly how Gemma talked you into taking her. She could talk a blind man out of a pair of glasses. But please, take care of her, and yourself. I can’t lose you guys.”

  There are tears shimmering in her eyes. Gemma told me Charlotte’s taken Liam’s death especially hard. I give her a hug. “I’ll keep everyone safe, I promise.”

  Thirty minutes later, I open the door to Gemma’s apartment and find her sitting at the kitchen table in front of my open laptop, her eyes glued to the screen, a pretty flush making her pale cheeks rosy. Oh, fuck! I left in such a rush to get Charlotte that I didn’t take the time to close my multiple screens of “research.”

  “Curiosity killed the cat,” I say casually.

  Most girls would blush or stammer excuses or pretend they were on Pinterest and hadn’t stumbled upon kinky porn, but Gemma’s not most girls. She returns my gaze boldly and says softly, “Damn. I had no idea.”

  I weigh my words carefully. It’s on the tip of my tongue to come clean with her and tell her she’s wrong, that it’s not what she thinks, that I’m not into that stuff and I was only doing research to get into the Dominion, when she adds, “Once again, Walker to the rescue.” She gets up from the table and flings her arms around my neck. “How did I get lucky enough to have you in my life?”

  Trying to follow any woman’s train of thought is challenging enough for the average guy, but trying to follow Gemma’s is like attempting to keep up with a squirrel at a nut convention.

  “Clean living?” I tease as I return her hug with an arm around her waist. “Although I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I rack my brain, trying to remember what I was doing before I went down the BDSM rabbit hole. Maybe I left another more innocent screen open, and that’s what she saw.

  “This is perfect.”

  I casually shift us around so I can peek over her shoulder at my open laptop. A blindfolded woman wearing a collar fills the screen.

  “O…kay,” I say slowly, turning my gaze back to her. “What’s this about?”

  “I need someone to teach me about…that.” She waves her hand at the compute
r. “About domination and submission and bondage and power play and everything. I’ve been trying to figure out what I was going to do, and how I was going to ever feel comfortable enough to even try it and see if I liked it. I think I need someone I trust to tie me up and blindfold me the first time, ya know?

  “And then I started thinking about dinner. I was going to see how late the pizza place around the corner delivers, and your laptop was right there and I thought you wouldn’t mind if I used it, and I saw your, um, pictures.” Her gaze darts back to the screen, and this time, she blushes. “And I realized the answer to all my problems is, as usual, you.”

  I’m still a little confused, or maybe my brain just stopped functioning when Gemma started talking about being tied up. “What is your problem, exactly?”

  She tilts her head back to look up at me. “Remember Declan, that guy I went out with last night?”

  I nod. That asshole again?

  “He’s a dominant, and he’s looking for a submissive, and he thinks, maybe, it could be me. But I don’t know. I’m kind of headstrong.”

  I can’t help but smile. “That’s an understatement.”

  She frowns at me. “You’re not helping. Yesterday morning after I met him for coffee, he gripped my throat lightly when he kissed me, and something happened. I don’t know, it just felt like someone had flipped the switch on what’s been missing with other guys I’ve dated. I think, maybe, he is exactly what I’ve been looking for. Maybe this is exactly what I’ve been looking for.”

  I don’t know much about the lifestyle other than what I’ve read today, but it seems like a prick move on the old guy’s part to try to convince a gorgeous, much younger girl like Gemma to buy into being his submissive after one dinner. I clench my hands into fists. The thought of him doing those things to her…

  Gemma’s soft voice draws me back to her. “I need to find out. All my life, I’ve looked for a guy like him, a guy who can tame me. The problem is, he thinks I might be too young and too inexperienced. So I need someone to help me, someone I trust to show me how it works and what to do so that when he comes back in a couple of weeks, I can prove to him I’m not.” She tilts her face up to mine. “I want you to teach me how to be submissive.”