Three Dirty Secrets (Blindfold Club #4)

by Nikki Sloane

  “Does Payton know?”

  He shook his head.

  “I’ll tell her. I’d rather she heard it from me.” She was going to be on the footage, so she’d be questioned. Fuck, it was a mess. “Can you bring me my phone?”

  He remained on the floor. I expected at any moment for him to tell me to fuck off. Instead, his eyes filled with concern. “That was some scary shit. He was gonna kill you.”

  “You saved me. God, Julius . . .” This time it really was tears, and I wiped them away. “And one punch. I wasn’t sure you had it in you. I mean, you’re always such a sweetheart—”

  It got abruptly hard to breathe. The whites of Julius’s eyes went enormous as I struggled for air.

  “Shit, hang on, girl.” He whipped out his phone, dialing what I had to assume was 911. What was happening? It felt like Bennett was strangling me all over again. All I could take were shallow breaths while he told the operator where we were and what had happened.

  No need to call Shane now, as the club’s address was flagged in our system. Not like I could call him anyway. I tipped my head back, and that seemed to help me breathe. My hand latched out, finding Julius’s arm.

  I whispered where I’d hidden the shadow hard drive between rasping breaths, even as he shushed me and told me not to talk. Things began to blur again, and I got lightheaded.

  “Regan, stay with me,” Julius ordered. It was the first time I’d heard him use the distinct voice of a Dom. It was silly. That wouldn’t work on me. Didn’t he know I wasn’t a submissive? I wanted to giggle. Instead, my stomach churned. Oh, shit. Was I going to throw up?

  His hand was on mine, squeezing. And he was yelling something at me, but it sounded like gibberish. Payton was beside him, her face twisting with fear. It was the last thing I saw before my eyes slammed shut.

  I felt like shit. When I swallowed, broken glass inched down my throat. I blinked against the overhead light and took in my surroundings. The hospital hallway was subdued. The bed I was in was on the move, heading back to my spot in the emergency room.

  I’d regained consciousness in the ambulance and been admitted to the ER. I’d gone through a mental assessment, and just before they’d whisked me off for a CT scan, Shane appeared. He looked fucking awful, unshaven and torn up with worry.

  Before he said anything, I asked him to call Silas.

  I could barely look Shane in the eye. Once again, I’d thought I could handle the situation, and I’d failed spectacularly. My hubris was literally going to be the death of me. I gave him the best rundown of the events I could, and by the time my CT scan was over, I was desperate with questions. What had happened with Victor Bennett? Where was Marquis? Had Shane gotten hold of Silas, and if so, what had he told him?

  I was carted back to the room where Shane sat perched on a chair, looking as worried as possible, his nose buried in his phone until he spotted me.

  “Did you get hold of Silas?” I asked.

  “I left a message. I said where you were and you’d asked me to call.”

  That was good, I guessed. When Silas got the message, he’d assume Shane was a cop. “And Bennett? What’s happening with him?”

  Shane hesitated. “He’s running, but don’t worry. We’ll get him.”

  “He’s running? What the fuck?” My voice cracked on the profanity.

  Shane stood and came to my bedside. “Everyone was so worried about you, they weren’t paying attention to the son of a bitch, and he got out of there before we got to the club. But I told you, we’ll get him. There’s a BOLO at all agencies. A guy like that? He’s not going to get far.”

  “Marquis?”

  “The same. How are you feeling?”

  I stared down at the hospital gown covering my body. “I feel like shit. And like I should never work undercover again. What about the club?”

  He was fixed on me. “That was interesting. Julius snatched up all the hard drives and won’t talk to us until there’s an immunity deal on the table. He found a lawyer awfully fast too, but turns out the guy’s Ms. McCreary’s brother.”

  Shane accused me with his eyes and I didn’t bother to deny it. “She took her husband’s last name. It’s Payton Ward now.”

  There was a sharp rap of knuckles on the glass of the sliding door just beyond the curtain on my room. “I’ve got a Silas Getty asking to come in,” the guard said.

  “Yes,” I croaked with my raw throat. God, yes.

  His enormous figure cleared the curtain, and I sighed with relief at the sight of him. But Silas froze in what appeared to be shock. He had to be taking in the bruises ringing my wrists and my bloodshot eyes.

  “Regan? What the fuck happened?”

  He crossed the room in two enormous strides, coming straight to me, but once he reached my bedside, it was clear he didn’t know if he should touch me or not. I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into a hug.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” I whispered. Truer words had never been spoken.

  “Jesus, what happened?”

  Shane cleared his throat. “I’ll be out in the hall if you need me.”

  Silas’s head snapped to Shane, as if unaware there’d been another man in the room, and watched my handler exit, curious. But his gaze returned to me and flooded with concern.

  “A client strangled me,” I said in my gravelly voice, “but I’m okay.”

  I saw the flash in those silver eyes. For the slimmest of moments, Silas thought about killing another person. “Where is he?”

  I wasn’t going to lie, but I wanted to have my voice back before having the full conversation with him. “He got away, but the cops are looking for him.”

  “Fuck, I was so worried about you. That message on my phone is brutal. You sure you’re okay?”

  “The swelling’s gone down so I can breathe again. We’re just waiting on a clear CT because I lost consciousness.”

  His hug was fierce, like he was worried he might lose me at any moment. “Oh my God.” He pulled back and looked at a loss for words. “There’s so many cops outside your room. They think this guy’s still a threat to you?”

  “No, I don’t think so.” I made a face as I tried to sort out the words. “The guy who strangled me is Congressman Bennett.”

  The room fell into silence except for the quiet hum of the pulse oximeter clipped to my finger.

  “He was at my gallery showing.”

  “Yeah. I gave my card to one of his aides.”

  Silas broke eye contact, turning down to look at my hand laying on the bed. He took it in his, encasing it. “I know you don’t like me telling you what to do, so I’m asking. Please don’t go back to the club.”

  I took a deep breath. “I won’t.”

  Startled relief rushed through his expression. He’d probably expected me to fight him on this. “Okay, good. Now tell me you’ll come stay with me or I can stay at your place until this blows over.”

  “Yes.” I didn’t even need to think about it.

  He leaned over, brushing his lips tentatively against mine. A sweet, disarming kiss. “What kind of drugs do they have you on? You’re so agreeable.”

  A tight laugh came from my chest. “Just some heavy ibuprofen. They didn’t even have to use a needle.”

  “Well, that’s something. Do you need anything?”

  I shook my head. “I’m okay.” I was so much better now that he was here.

  We had to wait a long time for the CT results. Silas took the chair that Shane had vacated and dragged it bedside. We flipped through the TV stations, settling on some mindless rerun of a sitcom. It was four a.m., so our options were limited.

  We both dozed off, and I woke before he did when the door slid open and a doctor rounded the curtain. Only this wasn’t my doctor.

  “God, are you all right?” Matt said. He stood with his hands on his hips, the medical coat pushed back, his ID badge clipped to his pale blue scrubs. Of course the guard outside had let the chief resident in.

  �
��I’m okay.” I was sure my face said otherwise. Although the bruising on my neck was surprisingly minimal, my bloodshot eyes were not.

  “I told you that place was dangerous.” He didn’t say it scolding, but it had my blood boiling anyway.

  “Spare me the lecture, I’m not in the mood.” My focus was on Matt, but I caught Silas stirring awake in my side vision. My voice was direct. “What do you need?”

  Matt’s face twisted into displeasure. “I needed to see if you were okay. You think I don’t still care about you after two years?” He moved closer and I sat up straighter. I didn’t like his proximity. He’d lost that privilege after what he’d done.

  “I told you,” I snapped. “I’m fine.”

  “After you’re cleared, let me take you home. You think you don’t need anyone, but I can stay with you, make sure you don’t have any respiratory distress.”

  I laughed sarcastically. “Can’t imagine the blonde you’re screwing would like that.”

  “Look, I know I made a huge mistake sleeping with her, and then an even bigger one when I let you go. Honestly, the girl meant nothing, and I’d take it back in a fucking heartbeat if I could.”

  Silas chose this moment to stand from his chair and cross his arms over his chest. It was clear his sizeable form was intimidating to Matt.

  His gaze swung back to me and his eyes pleaded. “Let me in. We were so good together.”

  Was he kidding?

  “Come on,” he insisted. “You shouldn’t be alone after what happened.”

  “Who the fuck says I’m alone?” I gestured to Silas.

  “You know what I mean. Not with some agent, but with someone who cares about you—”

  “Matt, this is Silas. He’s already asked to take me home, and seeing as how he’s my boyfriend, I’ve agreed.” I turned my gaze to Silas. “Silas, this is Matt, my douche canoe of a cheating ex who I mentioned once.”

  “I gathered as much. Get lost, Matt.”

  The verbal slap had Matt stumbling backward.

  “That,” I said, “is Silas’s subtle way of telling you to go fuck yourself.”

  Matt scowled, turned, and disappeared beyond the curtain.

  Silas exhaled and a lazy grin dragged across his lips. “Did I ever mention I like your mouth?”

  “It’s direct. We can’t all be as subtle as you.”

  Twenty minutes later, the doctor cleared me to go home. My clothes had been brought over from the blindfold club, and as I prepared to get dressed, there was yet another knock on my door. It slid open with no announcement, and the woman glided in. She paused when she locked eyes with Silas.

  “Caroline?” he asked. “What are you doing here?”

  Her gaze flew to mine, then back to his. Rather than lie, she redirected. “What are you doing here?”

  “This is my girlfriend, Regan.” His hand was on mine. “Regan, this is my sister, Caroline Getty.”

  “Chief Deputy Marshal Getty. Nice to meet you,” Caroline said automatically. She put a hand on her hip. “I need to speak to her privately.”

  “Is she in trouble?”

  “No.”

  He expected me to tell her it was okay if he stayed. As my boyfriend, there weren’t supposed to be secrets between us. I put my hand on my throat, trying to soothe the burn, even though it didn’t make any difference.

  “Can you give us a minute?” I said to him.

  Muted confusion tugged his eyebrows together, but he nodded. She waited until the door was shut before speaking.

  “What can you tell me about Marquis Jones?”

  I told her what info I had, which didn’t take long, and then added, “We steered clear of each other.”

  “I wanted to let you know I’ve authorized a task force to apprehend both of the men who did this to you. Our branches don’t always work well together, but we’re on the same side. They fuck with you, they’re fucking with my people. We’ll catch them, because my men are very good at what they do.”

  “Oh,” I said. Her determined look made me feel unexpectedly warm. How much of this was personal for her? Not just that I was her brother’s girlfriend, but as another woman in law enforcement? “Thank you.”

  She shifted on her feet, her attention wandering to the curtain. Was she wondering about Silas?

  My raw voice strained. “Just give me a few hours of sleep, and then I’ll tell him.”

  Her eyes widened a little. “You should rest your voice. I got throttled once by an officer in the Latin Kings, and my throat burned for a week afterward. Another day or two won’t make a difference. If anything, it’d probably be better.”

  I understood what she was saying. Both Silas’s emotions and my own were running high right now.

  She tugged the door open and gestured for Silas to come in, then glanced over her shoulder at me. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  Her phone chirped as Silas strode in. He scowled at his sister who had one foot out the doorway. “You’re not staying?”

  She dug out her phone as she shook her head. “Some of us have work. We can’t all get paid to play with finger paint.”

  The statement struck me as offensive until she flashed a huge smile up at her brother, busting his balls.

  “I only sold one piece in that series,” Silas said, “and I’m pretty sure the dude bought it as a joke.”

  Caroline’s gaze dropped down to her phone screen, and she latched a hand on Silas’s arm. “Bennett’s in custody. He tried to catch a flight out of Midway.” She scrolled through the message, then turned her stunned look to me. “He’s got a broken jaw. Was that you?”

  “I wish it had been, you look so impressed. It was my manager.”

  “Oh. I heard he lawyered up already. Your people have to be pissed—”

  The slip was bad, but her rigid body language was what really drew Silas’s attention. “Her people?”

  “I meant . . .” She visibly struggled with a way to backtrack, but it was pointless.

  “It’s okay, Caroline,” I said. “I’ll explain. Can you shut the door when you leave?”

  Her eyes were full of apology. She nodded, turned to her brother, and gave him a serious look. “I like this one. She’s better-looking than the last girl and hasn’t stolen any of your shit yet.”

  “What?” He couldn’t look more confused if he tried.

  Caroline’s only response was to walk out the door and slide it shut as I’d asked her to.

  He turned his gaze to me and suspicion crept in. “You have something to explain?”

  I drew in a deep breath, filling my body with air. “Yeah.” My vocal cords ached. “I’ve been keeping secrets.”

  He took a hesitant step toward my bed.

  “Some of them you already know. Like what really goes on at the club. Or how I’m . . .” I shouldn’t waste words because they were fire coming out of me. “Being a dominant turns me on.”

  It was freeing to confess it out loud. Hopefully my next dirty secret would be the same. It drew him closer, and I could sense the desire in him to support me. He liked my dominant streak.

  “What you don’t know,” I continued, “is that I work for the Federal Bureau of Investigation.”

  Chapter

  TWENTY-SIX

  Silas’s reaction was stoic. He blinked once, and then his gaze hardened. “You’re FBI.”

  “Yes.” I waited with bated breath. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but the quiet aftermath suddenly felt worse than when the bullet had torn through my shoulder.

  “Caroline knew.”

  I swallowed thickly. “I met with her last month and asked her not to blow my cover in case you wanted to introduce us.”

  “What you mean is you asked her to lie to me. What the fuck, Regan?” He took a step back, and the tiny distance was suddenly massive. “You should have told me.”

  “I couldn’t. I didn’t know how close you were with Joseph.”

  His face went blank. “Joseph. Oh, shit.”


  “He’s been legit for the last six months. Don’t worry about him.”

  My statement hung in the quiet, which I was sure we both hated now. Silas’s beautiful hands went to his hips, resting there. But then he abruptly went into motion, pacing the narrow space of the room as he tried to process.

  “I’m sorry,” I rasped. “I wanted to tell you, but I’d been undercover for more than a year when we met. There are a dozen other agents counting on me.”

  “Yeah,” he snapped. “I’m sorry, too. Sorry you felt you couldn’t trust me.”

  Christ, his truth stung. It slashed at my heart. “I do trust you.”

  He stopped pacing mid-stride, his back turned to me. “Not as much as your ex, though, apparently.”

  “What?”

  “He thought I was an agent, so you must have told him.” Silas turned and his hard expression sent my heart plummeting.

  “That was completely different. We met when I was rehabbing from the gunshot. Matt didn’t have any ties to the club.”

  Silas coursed a hand through his hair, leaving it disheveled. “You should have fucking told me.”

  “I couldn’t.”

  The fire of anger burned brighter in his eyes. “Yeah, you really could have.”

  Even though I was woozy and still hooked up to the monitoring machines, I swung my feet over the edge of the bed and stood upright. I wasn’t as tall as him, but this was as close to equal as I could get. “I’m telling you that I couldn’t, Silas. The last man I cared about, when I told him who I really was, he fucking shot himself in the head.” I steadied a hand on the bed rail. “So forgive me for having some anxiety about telling you the truth.”

  The fire subsided slightly and his expression softened. “Regan.”

  “I wanted to tell you so bad. It’s such a huge part of who I am, but, Christ. I had to finish my op first. So even if you left, at least I’d have . . . something.”

  Silas pressed his lips together and tore his gaze away from me, staring vacantly off. I was desperate to know what he was thinking.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “You’ve every right to be pissed.”