Deliverance (NYC Doms Book 1)

by Jane Henry

  “Pink shoe,” I whisper. “That woman earlier who was talking to you…” my voice trails off as my eyes go to Tobias. “She was talking to you.”

  “The blonde?” he asks.

  “Yeah.”

  Tobias turns to Zack. “According to her friend, what were the girl’s specs?”

  “Blonde hair, red lipstick, tattooed collar,” Brax returns. “Claudia Bowen.”

  Tobias closes his eyes briefly. “That was her,” he says. “Saw her about an hour ago. Refused to scene, explained I was with someone, and she took it nicely, but she seemed upset, embarrassed. Second time I’ve refused to scene with her, and she didn’t take it well.”

  “Gonna go talk to her friend,” Zack says, “and call in backup.” He pulls out his phone, but before he speaks into it, he gestures to Beatrice. “Come with me. Need to get a read as to whether or not the girl is telling the truth. Need your opinion.” Beatrice trots to keep up with his pace, looking scared but exhilarated. “We’ll go to the dungeon,” he says.

  “What do you want me to do?” Tobias asks.

  “Make sure everyone here’s safe,” he says over his shoulder. But as he walks down the hall and Tobias turns to me, it’s like he just realized I’m standing there.

  “Go to my office,” he orders. “Wait in there until I come get you.”

  “What? No! Tobias, I can help you. This is ridiculous. You can’t just lock me up like—”

  He takes firm hold of my arm and marches me to the exit. “The fuck I can’t. You do not push me right now, Diana, or this shit gets very real. Do you understand me?”

  I turn to him, tears of frustration in my eyes. “But I can help,” I insist.

  “Diana.”

  “Tobias! Beatrice is with Zack. Let me help.”

  “For God’s sake,” he says, running his hand through his hair. “I will not argue with you. A serial rapist is at large, and preying on members of my fucking club and there’s no fucking way I’m going to let my woman be at risk again. I not only want you to leave the communal areas, I don’t want you set fucking foot in here again until we catch the bastard. Now either march your sweet ass to my office, or I carry you, and if I have to carry you, I swear to God you won’t sit for a week.”

  His nostrils flare, his eyes furious.

  “Okay, alright,” I finally say, holding my palms up, feeling like a child who’s been denied staying up past her bedtime. It isn’t fair Beatrice gets to help with Zack. My adrenaline surges, my energy levels frenetic, and now I have to go and sit my ass in his office for God-knows-how-long. Alrighty then. Great.

  I leave in a huff, conscious of the fact that he watches my every move, and head to his office with him right behind me. He guides me inside the door, then locks and shuts it without so much as a good-bye kiss.

  “Déjà vu,” I mutter to myself, picking up my phone and texting Mandy. I sit down, and my shoulders slump, suddenly exhausted.

  All okay at home? I might be a little late.

  All good, Mrs. McAdams.

  I shove my phone in my pocket, and lean on his desk, resting my head on my arms.

  So damn tired.

  It’s warm in the office. My whole body slumps against his desk, fatigued from the scene and my little spat with Tobias draining the last of my energy. My eyes begin to close after a while. I drift off to sleep.

  The door to the office opens with a sudden bang, and I bolt upright, heart slamming against my chest. But it’s just Tobias. His jaw is tight, his eyes clouds of thunder.

  “Did you find her?” I whisper.

  “Not yet,” he says with a sigh. “But we found more of her belongings. Looks like she was abducted, and we’re trying to get more information as we speak. We’ve got nothing.” He sighs. “May have to close the club down for a little while so we can investigate properly.”

  “But you can’t close your doors. This is your bread and butter! How will you survive?”

  “We might have to!” he thunders, then stops almost as quickly as he’s started. It’s the angriest I’ve ever seen him. I don’t like it. But he immediately apologizes. “I’m sorry, Diana. Listen, we have no choice. Financially, I’m fine. We have insurance that covers us in this type of event, and it’s enough that it’ll hold us through while we finish what we need to.” He gestures for me to come to him. “Let’s get you home.”

  I slide off his chair and go to him, taking him by the front of the shirt and pulling him close to me. “You listen to me, Tobias,” I whisper fiercely. “This will be over soon. We’ll find the man responsible. And once we do, this will all be put to rest.”

  He sighs, and the tortured look in his eyes pains me. “We’d better,” he says. “I’ll kill him with my own fucking hands.”

  We drive in silence back to my place, Tobias distant and distracted, responding to me with a mutter or grunt, but no real words. Finally, we arrive at home. He parks, comes around, and almost automatically opens the door for me. “C’mon, let’s get you in safely,” he says. He takes me to my apartment and does a walk through, which I feel is unnecessary, but I still appreciate it.

  “All clear,” he says. “Gotta get back to the club now.” He waves distractedly to Mandy, then turns and leaves, never really coming fully present at all.

  “Bye,” I whisper, just before the door shuts behind him. Though we’ve departed many times before, this time feels different. This time the good-bye seems so… final. I tell myself it’s only my imagination.

  When I go to bed, I text him my good-night text. My phone lays silent.

  Chapter 18

  “We found her, man. Dumped in the park. Homeless guy called in.”

  Zack’s voice is both tight from anger, and defeated.

  “She alright?”

  “Fuck no. In a coma. Trauma to the head. Severe blood loss, may not make it.”

  Fuck. I wait respectfully for Zack to continue. “Fucked her over bad. Broken bones. Evidence of major sexual assault. She’s bloodied, he obviously raped her, multiple times.”

  My fist clenches, gut tight with fury. “Christ.”

  I can hear Zack swallow on the other end of the phone. “Had to have been someone in your club, Tobias. Got to be. Three girls, now.” He pauses, and his next words slam like an anvil. “That’s three too many. We’re gonna have to close it down while we investigate.”

  Though I already know it, the finality of hearing Zack say it makes the truth that much harder to bear. “Yeah. I understand.”

  And as I disconnect the phone, the reality of it all hits me with the force of a Mack truck.

  She’d come to me.

  After she’d come to me, I denied her, and she’d run out of the club.

  I’d made her run.

  If I hadn’t—she might not have—I shake my head.

  It’s my damn fault. And fuck if I’ll ever let another woman get hurt like that on my watch.

  I watch as the moon outside my window grows fuller, then brighter. I shiver, but don’t move, thinking, mulling, as the dark of night turns to the dim light of day.

  No other women will get hurt on my watch. Never again.

  Chapter 19

  One day passes. Then two. He sends me quick texts to check in on me and make sure I’m safe, but he doesn’t come to see me. He doesn’t take me out.

  I try to talk some sense into myself. You’re not doing either of us any favors by putting off seeing each other, you know.

  I stare at the phone with something between bewilderment and anger, pinching my nose in a vain attempt to alleviate the throbbing pain in my head. It’s one week after the incident at Verge, and the club is still shut down, investigators combing it for any bit of evidence they can find, interviewing the nearby places of business as well, but no evidence is telling.

  But worse, I haven’t seen Tobias since that night.

  He’s texted, of course.

  I’m sorry, Diana. I can’t right now. I need to focus on what’s going on here. And I ha
ve to keep you safe. I don’t want you anywhere near here, and I’m here all day long.

  All day long? He doesn’t have time to come and see me for a cup of coffee?

  God!

  At first, I understood. It is dangerous for me to be there, and I know his priority rests with Verge. But after three days of not seeing him, I’ve grown wistful and sad. By day five, irritation grew, and now, day seven, my frustration has grown to full-blown anger.

  I’m falling in love with him.

  And if Chad asks me one more time if he’ll come and cook for us...

  A knock sounds on my door and I jump, startled.

  “Mom?”

  “Come in, honey.” I put my phone down angrily while the door swings open, and Chad walks in.

  As usual, Chad speaks without preamble. “Why haven’t you seen Mr. Creed, and why are you angry?”

  “I’m not angry,” I lie. Even though my son often misses social cues, he occasionally shows perception that surprises me.

  “That isn’t true, mom,” Chad says, plopping on my bed, his light brown hair flopping along with him. His hazel eyes come to mine. “I can tell when you’re angry. I know your look. You’ve been sad, too. I heard you crying last night.”

  Aw, shit.

  The night before, Chad asked if Tobias was coming to watch a movie with us, when I popped popcorn and bought pizza for an in-house movie night, trying to keep things special for him despite the ache in my heart. And I knew then that it was my fault for even bringing Tobias here. For letting Chad get to know him, and getting attached. I’d shot him another text, and he hadn’t responded. I’d cried myself to sleep.

  I reach for Chad’s hand and squeeze. “I’m sad that we haven’t been able to see Tobias, and I miss him. He has… a lot going on, and…” my voice trails off.

  Chad looks contemplative. “Maybe if we go to the donut shop he’ll come in and then I can ask him why he’s stood you up.”

  She laughs out loud. “Where’d you hear that expression?”

  He shrugs, and doesn’t laugh. He’s totally serious.

  I lean over and ruffle his hair. “Let’s get you ready for the day. Today you’ve got that field trip at the Aquarium, right?”

  Chad had been pushing himself to standing and now freezes. “No. I’m not going.”

  “Chad…”

  This past week at school has been better than the previous, but he needs structure and routine. His teachers know this and will accommodate to a certain degree. His desk at school is always in the same place, his classes rarely varied with time or length, but sometimes they push the comfort zone a bit and it helps him learn to adapt. But, it isn’t always fun when change is going down.

  “I don’t know where I’ll sit,” he says, panic rising in his voice as he stands in front of me with his fists clenched. “What if the driver doesn’t know where we’re going and gets lost?”

  “Chad, the driver won’t—”

  “You don’t know that!” He hates field trips, and for a brief moment, I consider just calling him in sick. I have work to do at home anyway. But then I think about what he’ll miss by staying home, and how he really does needs to be challenged once in a while if he’s going to learn to adapt. Constantly giving into his rigidity doesn’t help at all.

  He needs this from you.

  “Chad, you’re going on the field trip. You won’t be alone, but with people you know. And you get to have pizza with the kids for lunch instead of packing one.”

  “I’m not gonna go. No. You can’t make me,” he begins, his voice rising in pitch, when the buzzer sounds at the door.

  “I’ll get it,” I mutter, grateful for the momentary pause in hysteria. Great.

  As I walk through my living room, my heart flutters. Would Tobias stop by?

  “Hello?”

  “It’s me,” says Beatrice. “Lemme up, chickie.”

  I buzz Beatrice up and go to the kitchen to make coffee, remembering when Tobias had stood me between his legs and told me I was strong.

  Don’t think about it.

  “Chad, Aunt Beatrice is here,” I call out. He walks into the living room and opens the door when Beatrice comes in carrying a large white pastry box, then without greeting her, turns on his heel and stalks off. Beatrice’s brows rise.

  “He’s pissed he has to do a field trip today.”

  “Ahhh,” Beatrice says, nodding. “Chad, got blueberry muffins here!” she hollers into the other room. Blueberry muffins aren’t donuts, but they sometimes do the trick.

  Chad comes storming in and plunks down in a chair, pulls open the box, and grabs a muffin, scowling. I watch him do this, and quickly meet Beatrice’s eyes, sharing a look of concern.

  I walk over, gently tugging Chad’s plate away, and lean in, catching his attention. “I know you’re angry right now,” I say firmly. “But you are not going to be rude to your aunt and me because you don’t want to do something. Now, you say hello, and then you will remember your manners.”

  He glares at me, his eyes going from Beatrice to me, but Beatrice only shakes her head. “Don’t look at me, kiddo. Your mom is right. And frankly? Kinda hurts my feelings to pick up some blueberry muffins for you and you don’t even so much as acknowledge me.”

  Chad looks away, eyes downcast. “Sorry, Aunt Bea. And… thanks.”

  I exhale, not realizing I’ve been holding my breath. I was preparing for a meltdown but was also ready to stand my ground.

  “So where are you going today?” Beatrice asks, pouring herself a glass of water while I put cream in my coffee.

  “I’m not going,” Chad says stolidly.

  I exhale, then breathe in once more. “Actually, honey, you are,” I say. “And you’re gonna be fine. You’ll come home excited to tell me about the stingrays and sharks and penguin show.”

  “Penguin show? Sharks?” Chad begins to show mild curiosity. Chad has loved penguins since he was a baby, and is practically obsessed with sharks. “How do they make sure the sharks don’t attack the other fish and mammals?” He asks.

  I smile to myself but sober when I turn to him, needing him to know I’m not laughing at him, but amused that he has to make the very clear distinction. Not all animals that live at the aquarium are fish, and he’ll correct anyone who makes the blunder.

  “They keep them very well fed,” I say. “But they swim along with the other fish and mammals so they don’t attack. Scuba divers even go in and aren’t attacked.”

  “Fine, I’ll go,” Chad says, and Beatrice and I share a quick, victorious look.

  “Good, and you have money in your allowance to take to the gift shop after if you’d like.”

  I get him his bag and get ready to go.

  “Mom?” he asks, as we go downstairs to catch his bus.

  “Yeah?”

  “Can you call Tobias? Tell him I miss him?”

  My heart squeezes and I pull my son close to me, giving him a hug, just as his yellow bus turns the corner. Before he leaves he whispers, “You smile more when he’s here.” I stand, watching him, my throat clogged and tears blurring my vision, before I go up to Beatrice.

  Beatrice sits on the couch, her feet propped up on the coffee table.

  “So what’s going on with Zack?” I ask her, loading the dishwasher.

  Beatrice sighs. “Oh, he’s good. They’ve got some serious leads but he can’t talk to me about details. They’re closing in, and there have been no new victims, but considering the fact that the bastard responsible uses Verge as his main target pool for victims, we haven’t really given him much to feed on.”

  “Son of a bitch,” I whisper, lost in my own thoughts.

  “Heard from Tobias?”

  My heart twists and I look away, unable to meet Beatrice’s eyes. “No. Well,” I correct, “If you count evasive texts? Haven’t seen him. He won’t let me visit. He hasn’t stopped by.” My voice catches at the end, and I can’t look at Beatrice, not trusting myself to say more.

  �
��You know he blames himself.”

  “What?” My head spins around and I stare at Beatrice. “For what?”

  “For the victims. He’s barely left Verge. Zack finally made him go home and get some rest, says they’re doing everything they can, but Tobias is stubborn. Won’t listen. Thinks those girls got taken on his watch, and he’s… struggling.”

  Struggling? My big, strong, powerful dominant is struggling?

  “God,” I whisper. “I thought it was me.”

  “Course you did. You always do, and honey, it isn’t. He isn’t avoiding you because of you. He’s avoiding you because of him.”

  Whatever that means. Beatrice continues.

  “You should go to him.”

  “Go to him? He’ll spank my ass if I go to Verge right now. Doesn’t want me anywhere near there,” but even as I said it, my mind is reeling.

  Beatrice stands and shrugs her shoulders. “Got my ass spanked last night,” she says with an exaggerated wink. “Even have marks to show for it, which I never do, but woke up feeling pretty on my game and badass. Just sayin’, honey.” She turns and faces me, her voice softer now. “You’ve had a lot of shit happen to you. Shit people shouldn’t ever have to deal with, you know?”

  I swallow the lump in my throat.

  “And Tobias is…” her voice trails off before she inhales deeply and looks back at me. “He’s one of the good ones, babe. The real good ones. And you know, nowhere in this universe is there a guy who’s perfect. And when you find a good one, honey, you don’t let them go. Sometimes you fight for what you need. Sometimes, you have to chase it, wrestle it to the ground, and claim what belongs to you.”

  He blames himself.

  God!

  If anyone knows what it’s like to place the blame of something tragic on your own shoulders, it’s me. How many times have I blamed myself for Chad’s struggles? If I’d only eaten differently when pregnant, taken these supplements, given him the right foods when he was a newborn, been able to breastfeed like all the super moms I knew, or knew how to engage him at an early age and teach him to manage his frustrations, if I’d never stayed so long with his father, who’d only made a bad situation worse, or, or… whatever. The list goes on and on.