by Shelly Bell
Empty.
The panic was short-lived, as when she lowered her eyes, she saw that lying haphazardly upon the floor, seemingly undamaged, were her books—including her precious copy of A Tale of Two Cities. And thankfully, this time, there was no red paint on her walls, carpet, or books.
But splattered all over her desk was something much, much worse.
Something just as red as the paint.
Blood.
So much blood.
A dead animal lay in the middle, an arrow with a note attached sticking out from its furry dark body. She didn’t want to move any closer, but she had to know. Had to read the note.
Covering her nose and mouth with her hand, she somehow managed to shuffle her feet forward until she reached her desk. Bile rose in her throat, choking her, as she saw the damage done to the poor squirrel. She only prayed that whoever had done this had found the animal dead on the side of the road first before he butchered it. The alternative was too horrific to imagine.
She wasn’t surprised to see a trail of ants crawling all over the squirrel’s rotting corpse. Snatching the note off the arrow, she made certain not to come in contact with the desk and shook the paper to ensure there were no bugs on it. The message was short and clear.
Next time it will be Sawyer.
Her stomach rolled and cramped, giving her almost no warning to get to the wastepaper basket before she lost her breakfast in it.
Sweat dripping down her neck, she realized the person who had broken into her office had cranked up the heat to high, most likely to increase the rancid smell.
Sure enough, when she checked the thermostat, she wasn’t surprised to see it set to ninety degrees. She flicked on the air-conditioning and wiped her brow with the back of her hand.
What did they want?
There were no instructions. No demands.
The first note had taunted her with the knowledge that he’d found her. This one threatened Sawyer.
Was he the key to all of this?
Her life had been quiet until he’d shown up. And her photograph had appeared in the news weeks ago. Why had all of this only started after his arrival in Michigan?
Other than cutting the brakes on the car, whoever was behind all this hadn’t made a move to hurt her physically.
What if she wasn’t the target? What if Sawyer was? What if she wasn’t supposed to have been in that car with him?
Clearly, they wanted her husband out of her life. But to what end?
She had no doubt her past was connected in some way, but she was confused. Why didn’t they just call the police or kill her? Why toy with her like this?
So many questions with no answers in sight.
She folded the note and stuck it in her pocket, her eyes fixed on the books. The past refused to take its dirty hooks out of her. As much as she wanted to move on with her life, it still wasn’t time. She couldn’t turn over the black list to her brother until she figured out who wanted Sawyer out of the way. Not when there was even the slightest chance she might need it in the future.
She picked up her copy of A Tale of Two Cities and flipped through its pages, relieved to see the black list still intact. All these years, the cover had cloaked the journal from prying eyes and had kept it safe. But now, it wasn’t enough.
She scanned the room for another option to hide it, her gaze falling on the perfect spot. Book in hand, she pulled out the air vent cover from the floor and slipped the black list inside. Hopefully, no one would bother to look there.
As she left her office, she considered calling Sawyer. He’d be even more worried about her when he learned about what she’d found.
Except, she wasn’t supposed to have been there. How would she explain her detour?
Not to mention, she still needed to go see Asa.
She’d texted her brother this morning to let him know she was paying a visit to him later. He’d waited patiently for her these last few days, but he’d come all this way to see her, and she hadn’t spent any time with him.
Here she’d been fucking her husband at a sex club while Asa was probably wanting to get back to Thea and Annie. She’d acted selfishly by leaving four years ago without giving Asa a proper good-bye, and she was acting just as selfishly now.
He deserved more from her. Even though she couldn’t give him the black list yet, she could at least spend some time today reconnecting with him. Then he could return home to his family, instead of sitting around waiting to see his sister.
Remembering the name of the company Sawyer used to clean her condo, she called them as she drove to Asa’s hotel and asked that they take care of her office, using her credit card to pay this time.
By the time she arrived at Asa’s, her heart rate had returned to normal and she was certain the decision to keep the break-in at her office a secret from Sawyer was the right one. She’d barely knocked on Asa’s door before he opened it.
Wearing sweats and a T-shirt, her brother grinned widely. “Come on in. I was starting to think I wouldn’t hear from you. I’m glad you came.”
Guilt gnawed at her as she gave him a hug. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to make it sooner. It’s just the last couple of days have been . . . ” How could she explain it to him so he wouldn’t worry? She didn’t want or need another overprotective man watching over her. She’d go positively insane. “I was in a car accident,” she said, not elaborating.
Eyes wide with concern, he gripped her by the arms and turned her to him. “What? When? Are you okay?”
She patted him on the shoulder. “I got a mild concussion, but we were lucky since we weren’t going fast when we hit the tree.”
“We?”
“Sawyer and I.”
With an unmistakable frown on his face, he led her to the couch, where they both sat. “I know you were married to him, but I don’t like the guy, Annie.”
She crossed her legs and leaned into him. “He doesn’t have to like you, and you don’t have to like him. But I sure wish you would, because it would make my life a whole lot easier.”
His gaze narrowed on her as he gave her a curt nod of understanding. “You going to try again with him?”
Every time she got her hopes up, something would happen to rip them away. Someone wanted Sawyer gone, if not dead. When she’d walked out on him, she’d sacrificed her own happiness to keep him safe. If it came down to it, could she do it again?
“I don’t know if it’s possible,” she said, shaking her head.
“Why? Dad’s dead. He can’t hurt you guys anymore.”
No, her father couldn’t hurt him. But someone else could.
“I haven’t told him everything,” she explained, falling back into the couch cushions. “He knows that I was a con artist, but I’ve kept the family out of it.”
He angled his body, his knees brushing against hers. “Why? If he knew that Mom and Dad forced you into the life—that Dad threatened to kill him—he’d realize you leaving him was the best thing you could’ve done for him.”
Was it? He’d been miserable without her. Just as miserable as she’d been without him.
She wanted Sawyer to know everything about her. Every dream, every nightmare, every hope, every fear. But Asa needed to understand the risk. “If I tell him, he’ll know about you and Mitch. I’m worried he won’t be able to accept that I’ll never be able to stop looking over my shoulder, thinking the Feds or someone is going to find me. What if he decides to report you to the cops, thinking he could somehow get me a deal?”
His gaze burned into her. “If you’re asking that, you don’t trust him any more than I do.”
She’d thought she trusted him, but her brother was right. Something prevented her from handing over her trust completely to him. Was she too fucked up to get past it?
“Do you trust Thea?”
“With my life,” he said firmly.
“How? How did you realize that you could trust her and her family with your secrets?” Why had he been able to a
ccomplish what she hadn’t?
He lifted a shoulder and spread out his hands in front of him. “I don’t know. I guess I realized I’d rather take that risk than live with the fear that one day, she’d discover the truth from someone else. But . . . ” His lips pressed together in a straight line.
“But what?”
He paused, deep creases forming on his forehead. “That car accident. What happened?”
Her pulse kicked up a notch. She should’ve known her brother would ask. “Sawyer was driving us back to his hotel. The brakes didn’t work, and we ended up hitting a tree.”
He rubbed his hands on the knees of his sweats. “How do you know the brakes didn’t work?”
“He told me.”
His brow arched. “Did anyone confirm that? The police?”
“I don’t know,” she said, confused by his question. “He talked to them when the ambulance took me to the hospital. Why are you asking that?”
He placed his hand on her leg. “Because when you’ve lived the life of a con, you start to smell when one’s being played on someone else.”
Her body jolted at his accusation. “Me? You think Sawyer’s conning me?”
“Think about it. He shows up, and then your place is trashed. Maybe he did it himself or hired someone to do it to scare you.”
“Scare me? Why would he want to do that?” It didn’t make sense to her.
She was scared.
But for Sawyer.
He grimaced, his face growing pinched, as if it hurt him to have to say these things to her. “To get closer to you. You’re staying at his hotel, right?” At her nod, he continued. “I bet you wanted to stay somewhere else, but he insisted you stay with him. Am I right?” He shifted closer to her on the couch. “And then once you got there, he managed to charm you. Seduce you. Get you to rely on him and feel safe with him. And how do you know he didn’t lie about the brakes and hit the tree on purpose to keep you thinking your life was in danger?” He set both his hands on her thighs, his thumbs brushing the inside of them. “I know it’s been more than four years, Annie, but didn’t all that ring any warning bells for you?”
A sinking sensation wreaked havoc on her empty belly. Isn’t that what she’d originally thought at her condo? But she’d quickly dismissed the notion. “Yes, and I considered all that. You don’t know Sawyer. I do. He’s not like that. Besides, what would he have to gain from it?”
“Revenge. You fall back in love with him. Trust him. Tell him everything, including where that money you took from your joint account went and that there’s a journal of all the cons our family has ever pulled. Then he goes straight to the Feds with it. Just like you feared.”
Refusing to even consider it, she shot up from the couch. Sawyer wouldn’t manipulate her like that. Sure, she’d worried he’d go to the Feds, but not for revenge but to save her. “No. He wouldn’t do that to me. He loves me.”
“You sure about that?”
She ignored the churning in her gut. “Yes. I am.”
“I hope you’re right.” Her brother stood from the couch and gave her chin a little nudge. “Because if you’re not, it’s both our asses on the line.”
Chapter Twenty
HANGING UP WITH the cleaning service, Lisa removed the key to Sawyer’s suite from her purse, energized despite the late hour.
She’d spent the entire day with her brother chatting, eating pineapple pizza, and hanging out together like they used to when they were younger. He hadn’t brought up his theory about Sawyer again, and she’d been careful not to mention anything that would renew their conversation, including what she’d found in her office.
There were some things she and Asa would have to agree to disagree on, her husband being one of them. Maybe someday they’d learn to tolerate each other, but even if they didn’t, she refused to allow their petty behavior to bother her.
When she left Asa’s, she’d called Sawyer to let him know she was on her way home. He hadn’t mentioned finding anything more about the hit man, and she hadn’t had the lady balls to tell him he’d likely been barking up the wrong crazy tree. Chad Winters and his hired gun weren’t responsible for terrorizing her. She’d save that conversation for tomorrow, because tonight he had something planned for them, and she didn’t want to do a single thing to jeopardize it.
Standing outside the door to the suite, she moistened her lips with her tongue and brushed her fingers through her hair, preparing herself for him. Her nipples peaked, pressing against her blouse as she breathed heavily. Just the thought of what might be waiting for her sent arousal shooting through her body.
Inside, she was surprised to discover the suite was pitch black, not even a sliver of light to help her find the switch that would turn on the lamps. The door shut behind her, the sound of it loud in the otherwise silent room.
“Sawyer?” she called out. Her pulse slammed into overdrive as her neck prickled. She swore she felt someone else in the room, but if it was Sawyer, why wasn’t he answering?
She reached out her hand to flick on the lights, when someone came from behind her and shoved her face-front against the door. She cried out as the strong body pressed tightly against hers, a telltale bulge digging into her lower back, right above the crack of her ass. Panic assaulted her, and she was gripped with fear that something had happened to Sawyer.
Only a second or two passed before the familiar scent of him reached her nose. And although her heart continued to hammer wildly, this time it was from arousal. They’d played this game only once before, when, wearing a ski mask, he’d snuck into their home, pretending to be a stranger. It was a dance that stayed firmly behind the line of consent, but at the same time gave them the fantasy that it was otherwise.
“Don’t scream and I won’t hurt you,” he said in a gritty voice, a tone that told her this scene turned him on as much as it did her. “Say your safe word and it all stops. Otherwise, I’m in control. You do as I say, you’ll find it’ll go much easier on you.”
He wanted her to fight. To make him force her to submit. It was a wicked game and one she couldn’t wait to play.
“Please don’t hurt me. I’ll do anything you say.”
He flipped on the lights, his eyes stormy behind the mask he wore. He flipped her around and dragged a finger leisurely down her arm. “We’re gonna have lots of fun tonight, aren’t we?”
She nodded as if she was a good little girl who was going to let him have his way with her. The moment he took a step away from her, she shot off toward the guest bedroom, having no idea what she’d do when she got there but too excited to care. He chased her, his booming laugh bouncing on the walls as he dashed across the room in an effort to catch her.
She wanted it rough tonight, wanted him to stake his claim on her and tame her like a wild animal. It was a dark fantasy brought to life—with a set of parameters that would keep her safe.
Darting inside the bedroom, she slammed the door shut and turned the lock, trembling from the thrill and smiling to herself for getting away from him. By the time he figured out how to get inside, he’d be so angry he’d have to punish her severely for her actions. Her entire body quivered at the thought of all the ways he’d make it hurt.
“Hiding from someone?” asked a deep male voice from behind.
Her heart in her throat, she twirled around. Leaning against the wall as if he had every right to be there stood a man she knew immediately she’d never met before. Like Sawyer, he wore a black ski mask, but that’s where the similarity ended. Dreadlocks poked out from the bottom of the mask, and on his shirt were the words Byte me.
She froze, unable to move or speak, her limbs weighted down by the heavy arousal coursing through her and her mouth dry as the Mohave Desert. The stranger stalked toward her with a predatory gleam in his brown eyes. “Cat got your tongue?” He chuckled as he reached behind her and unlocked the door. “I sure hope not, because you’re going to need it tonight.”
The door opened wide to a looming
Sawyer, whose copper eyes had deepened to the color of a sunset. Right now, her Master exuded danger and wicked intent.
He wasn’t going to go easy on her.
And she wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Please,” she begged, the tremor in her voice as real as the man standing in front of her. “I’m sorry I ran. I promise, I’ll do whatever you say as long as you don’t hurt me.”
Sawyer took one threatening step forward and pulled off his mask. “Your promise is too late. You need to be punished.”
Sandwiched between the two men, she exhaled all the air in her lungs, their combined dominance making for a heady aphrodisiac. Sweat beaded on the nape of her neck as her body heated from the inside out.
Sawyer’s hands slid into her hair and tilted her head back until it rested on the stranger. “My men have been instructed on everything they need to know. Nothing happens without my direction.”
His words assuaged her fear, assuring her Sawyer had informed them of her limits and her safe word.
Then it hit her.
Men? As in plural?
Her silent question was answered by the entrance of two more men. As a result, her panties dampened to a ridiculous proportion. Her desire for Sawyer to share her with others and to watch him with other women was a kink that had confused her in the past. In addition to his inclination toward dominance and sadism, his fetishes also included ménage and group sex. She’d thought the idea should repulse her, but instead, it had aroused her. She and Sawyer had discussed it at length before inviting a third person into their bed for the first time—a female Dominant he knew from the BDSM community.
And it hadn’t been long before his kink had become her kink.
While Sawyer identified as 100 percent heterosexual, her sexual preferences had always been a bit more fluid. Sawyer had loved to explore this aspect of her, pushing her boundaries to their limits. No matter how many hands and mouths touched her, they were all an extension of her Master, and rather than the experience causing any jealousy among them, they’d become closer as lovers and partners. It was all a matter of communication and trust.
