by Zoey Marcel
“Don’t leave me,” Jill begged. “It’ll be awkward.”
“It never used to be,” Claudia returned as she strutted toward the twenty-something man who’d commented on her breasts.
Jill sighed, unable to shake the out-of-place feeling. She was by no means shy, but this glitzy, glamorous, shallow existence just wasn’t her anymore. Had normal and mundane really become second nature to her now? Her life was simple, but hardly boring. She loved being with her men and her daughters. Life was sweet, fun, and at times pretty exciting.
The stocky man approached her with his stein of beer. “Hello, love.”
She smiled at his British accent. “I’m married.”
He looked disappointed before a friendly smile chased it away. “My intentions are entirely honorable…now.”
She smirked. “I like your accent.”
“And I love yours,” he said, extending his hand. “Callum Henry.”
She shook his hand. “Jill, and I’m not the one with the accent.”
He grinned. “You are to me. Tell me, if you’re not here to meet anyone, then what are you doing here?”
“I’m starting to wonder that myself,” she said quietly, feeling pain in her chest when she thought of how worried her men must be. “What about you?”
“I’m visiting America the Beautiful.”
She smiled. “Well, you picked a good state to tour. California has a lot to offer.”
“It does indeed, love. I might stop by Arizona, too, before I leave, but I haven’t decided yet.” Callum seemed a bit tipsy. “Last I heard my biological father lives in Winchester. I’d like to meet him, but I don’t know if I’ve got the stomach for it this trip or not. Harrison Dark is going to be thrilled when he finds out he knocked up a woman on vacation three decades ago and I show up on his doorstep to tell him about it.”
“That would be awkward.” Jill fingered the cell phone in her pocket. Should she check her messages? Should she call Ben and the others and let them know she was all right? He’d probably be pissed and it would ruin her night.
Oh crap, he’s going to kill me for leaving. They all are. I left a note. Oh god, I’m dead.
“Enough pleasantries,” Callum decided. “Dance with me, love?”
“I’m not your love. Call me Jill.”
“As you wish. Dance with me, Jill?”
Maybe Claudia was right. Dwelling on her family and the repercussions of flying to California spontaneously would only bring her down. Maybe she just needed to let loose and have some fun. She took Callum’s hand and followed him out onto the dance floor. Shaking it was fun, but the guilt lingered.
After a dance with him Jill headed into the bathroom and turned her cell phone on, gaping at the flood of messages. She ignored the texts and listened to the voice mails Ben had left for her. In some of them he sounded so ticked off it made her ass clench in apprehension.
There were others where he sounded choked up. “Christ, Jill, do you have any idea what I’m going through right now?” He paused and sighed heavily, sounding furious and hurt. “Just come back to me…please. If you don’t want me to run things, then we’ll talk, just don’t leave me again.” His voice cracked and he sounded miserable. “Please don’t fuck anyone.”
Her heart broke. Did he really think she would? He was everything to her and she deeply regretted her past mistakes with Judah, even though she loved him and Ben had neglected her back then.
She sent him a text, trying to keep the tears from falling. I wouldn’t betray you. I’m coming home.
A moment later he texted back Where the fuck are you?
She swallowed, shuddering at how angry he must be, but wrath was better than him being wounded. I’m in California.
No shit. I want to know where.
I’m in Hollywood.
Where at?
I’m coming home.
Goddamn it! Answer me!
She cringed and walked out of the bathroom, heading over to Claudia who was making out with “nice titties” guy in a corner. Jill tapped her on the shoulder. “I have to go.”
Claudia rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m not driving you. I’m busy right now. We’ll leave later.”
“I have to go to the airport now.”
“Then you’re going to have to walk.” Claudia devoured the man’s face again.
Jill blinked in astonishment. Maybe Ben had been right about her. “Some friend you are, Claudia.”
Jill got choked up when she heard “Grenade” by Bruno Mars playing and thought of Ben. He was so good to her. How could she have sneaked off without thinking of how much it would hurt and upset him?
She wandered outside into the alley, peeking at her cell phone again. Where in God’s name are you, Jill?
I’m in an alley.
Yep, he would kill her. Of course admitting she was in an alley at night was better than telling him she’d been in a club.
What? It’s dark out. You know I don’t like you walking out late alone at night. What the fuck is wrong with you?
Ben, I’m fine. I’m a grown woman. I can take care of myself.
It’s my job to protect you.
Her jaw tightened. I don’t need protection.
She put her cell phone in her pocket, feeling guilty and frustrated. He was understandably upset, but she didn’t need to be coddled like some defenseless child. She could take care of herself, damn it. Maybe most women would be scared shitless to walk down an alley alone in the dark, but she wasn’t.
“Hey, baby,” someone called to her.
She turned to see three men approaching her. Okay, courage was gone. One of them made a cat call, but she ignored it and kept walking.
“Playing hard to get, huh? Never can resist a sleazy bitch. Come here, hottie. Let me take care of you.”
Jill walked faster. “Leave me alone. I’m not in the mood.”
“Oo,” they said unison. “She’s not in the mood.”
She gasped when one of them stepped in front of her and halted her in her tracks. Best not to show any signs of fear. If she acted tough they might realize she could kick their asses and decide to back off. “Let me pass.”
“Damn, you are smoking, aren’t you?” The man in front of her reached out for her cleavage and she decked him in the face.
Someone grabbed her from behind and she screamed and struggled, panicking when a gag was stuffed into her mouth. The man she’d punched slapped her hard.
“Doesn’t feel good does it, bitch?”
* * * *
Judah felt sick to his stomach as he raced down the streets with Logan in their leopard forms. Judah might have laughed his ass off at the sound of tires screeching and cars piling up when people saw two wild cats on the rampage in Hollywood, but he sensed their mate was in danger.
Logan’s mind spoke to Jill through their bond, but Judah heard it, too. “Talk to us, Jill. Where are you?”
Her hysteria in their heads made Judah feel nauseated and powerless. There were three men trying to hurt her.
“Help me! One of them has a knife. I’m so scared!”
Judah roared in rage, scaring the shit out of a passing man, who dropped his grocery bag with a girlish scream and ran into a store for refuge.
“Think about your location, slave. Where are you?” Logan commanded.
Being called slave seemed to will her mind into a calmer state to please him. “I’m in an alley behind a club called—”
“Logan, I smell her! She’s down here!” Judah cut in.
Logan and Judah tore down the alley, leaving all traces of humanity and ethics behind as they sought to protect their mate.
* * * *
Jill was in shock when a black blur threw itself onto the man sitting on her.
“Shit!” The man holding her arms let go and jumped to his feet.
The guy at her side with the knife hopped up, too, and screamed like a girl. “Fuck! Where the fuck did they come from? Fuck!”
A lighter-
colored, spotted blur pounced on the asshole and knocked him to the ground with a savage growl. The other man took off as Jill scrambled to her feet and removed the gag. Logan and Judah had come for her. The light leopard, Judah, glanced at her and hissed in warning. She took off running like she knew he wanted her to.
A cop car blocked the alley, keeping the fleeing creep from leaving. She recognized her brother-in-law, Milan Easton, getting out of the car. He charged after the panicked criminal and tackled him to the ground.
“Jill, how are you? You picked a shitty neighborhood to walk in.” Milan gave her a sassy smile as he held down the struggling man. “Oh no you don’t.”
He rammed the guy’s head on the ground and handcuffed him.
She watched him stand and lug the bastard to his feet, feeling surreal when she saw the two leopards lope off and the two still bodies lying in the alley. The sight of them made her shiver.
Milan opened the car door for the dazed man. “You have the right to—oh just get your ass in the car.”
He shoved the man into the police car and shut the door. Ben was more by-the-book and Milan was more of a rebel.
“How did you get here so quickly?” she asked quietly.
“Ben called me when he got your note. I’ve been patrolling all over L.A. and Hollywood looking for you. Are you hurt?” Milan asked.
She shook her head.
Logan and Judah walked up just then in their human forms and in clothes.
“Oh sure, you boys show up after I’ve taken care of everything,” Milan teased.
Logan walked past him over to Jill. He grabbed her by the arm and yanked her into a lung-crushing hug that lasted several minutes. Judah came up from behind her and sandwiched her between them in an equally snug embrace.
Milan spoke into his walkie-talkie. “Call 911 and the zoo. We’ve got a situation. It looks like a couple of wild cats are running around loose in Hollywood.”
Logan pulled back, and Judah nudged him aside and held Jill tightly by the arms. “Don’t you ever do that again! Christ, Jill, do you know how worried we were about you? I’ve never felt so sick in my life. You could have been killed. Shit, you almost were.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Thank you for saving my life.”
Judah’s anger washed away and he looked distraught again as he pulled her into himself and squeezed the life out of her, kissing her head and face repeatedly. She held him tight thanking God she was okay and safe again.
But when Judah stepped back and Logan grabbed her by the arm and glared at her she knew she was in trouble. “Get your ass in the car. You’re in high protocol until we get home.”
Chapter Eighteen:
Punishment
High protocol was an interesting concept. When she was good and in that mode it was the biggest turn-on.
But they were mad at her and high protocol mocked her with its punishing silence. Jill wasn’t allowed to speak unless spoken to and she must refer to them as Master when she answered their questions during high protocol.
Logan wandered into the club to get Claudia Presley to drive home and let Jill in so she could pack her things. Jill didn’t know what Logan said to her ball-busting friend, but Claudia walked out of the club looking like she’d been served.
After Jill packed her things and said good-bye to Claudia, Logan drove the rental car to the airport. Jill sat between Logan and Judah on the plane. Eye contact with them was restricted in high protocol unless they permitted it. At times the flight was quiet, and other times one or both of the men quietly berated her for her foolishness and disobedience. The lonely silence and stern reprimands were eventually followed with handholding and fervent kisses on her head.
Logan and Judah asked the flight attendants for snacks and water for her. They seemed so concerned for her well-being she felt a bit like a bear devouring food in preparation for winter hibernation. It was sweet of them to insist she eat and drink, but good lord, a woman could only eat so much when she was this upset and ashamed of herself.
After landing in Wyoming, Logan drove his truck to Ben’s house, and Jill started to panic and wish she wasn’t dressed like such a tart.
“Can I speak, Master?”
“Go ahead,” Judah permitted.
“Do you mind stopping somewhere so I can change?”
He grinned. “You don’t want Ben to see what you’re wearing, huh?”
“No, Master.”
“We’re not stopping, Jill,” Logan told her. “Your husband has a right to know all the facts.”
She squirmed in her seat. Ben was going to be so pissed.
The three of them walked up to the house. The key sounded like a callous bastard digging in the keyhole as it stole her only barrier between herself and the angry man on the other side. He had every right to be mad, though.
Logan pushed her forward with a light nudge, and Judah shut and locked the door behind them.
“Are the girls here?” she squeaked, hoping they wouldn’t hear her getting yelled at.
“Nah, they’re over at your sister’s,” Judah answered.
Loud, ominous stomps clobbered their way down the stairs. “Is Jill with you?”
“Yeah,” Judah called out.
Ben appeared in the dining room, looking pissed off and worried. “Where the fuck have you been?”
Uh-oh, he said fuck rather than hell. He was really pissed.
Logan nudged her forward and her shaky legs joined the treacherous game in bringing her closer to not-so-happy-right-now Ben.
“I’m sorry, Ben. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“Why the hell are you dressed like a tramp and going to clubs with your bitchy friend and not wearing your wedding ring?” Ben demanded.
Jill cringed and tried to lower to her knees, but the black leather pants were so tight she had to sit with her legs to the side instead of in a kneeling position or the pants might rip. “I would have worn my wedding ring, but I was worried someone might try to take it since the club was in a bad neighborhood.”
Her mouth snapped shut when his eyes flashed with fury and fear for her safety.
“What? You know I don’t want you in shitty neighborhoods by yourself at night. What the hell were you thinking? You could have been raped. Christ, Jill, Logan said you almost were!”
Her head bowed. “I’m sorry.”
Ben dragged his hand down his face with a heavy sigh. “What were you doing in a dark alley by yourself dressed like that? Look at you. You can’t even sit right your pants are so damned tight, and your top is so low you might as well not even be wearing one.”
“I thought you liked it when I dress sexy,” she said meekly.
“Yeah, sexy, not sleazy. Are you even wearing a bra and underwear?”
“Not a bra, but that’s only because the top is so low in the back I couldn’t. But I’m wearing pasties.”
Ben crossed his arms, looking impatient. “What the hell are pasties?”
“They’re these hot little things women stick on their nipples like if they’re doing a striptease,” Judah explained.
Ben glared down at her. “Who the fuck are you stripping for?”
His lack of trust killed her. “No one. I just wanted my nipples covered. I’m not a complete whore.”
Lost memories of events that transpired when she’d bargained with Samael, the death angel, thirty-nine times tried to call her out, but she shoved them to the back of her mind to keep from crying. Ben must never know what she went through, what she did to get him back.
Ben rubbed his forehead with his fingers, looking weary and frustrated. “Jill, if your clothes can’t be worn without exposing undergarments or requiring you to go without them, then it’s probably not something you should be wearing in public. Don’t get up.”
Well, so much for that.
“I told you not to go to California by yourself and you didn’t listen. You nearly got yourself killed because of it.” Ben picked up a piece of mail. “A
nd what the hell is this?”
“I don’t know.” Did he really expect her to know when she’d just gotten home?
“I’ll tell you what it is.”
There’s a thought.
“It’s a fucking debit card for an account with your name on it. I saw the date on it. You kept back five grand for yourself when you transferred your money into our account and didn’t tell me about it?”
“It was my money.” She winced, knowing that wasn’t the thing to say.
“That’s not what bothers me. If you want a little shopping fund, fine. I’m just hurt that you kept five thousand bucks hidden and didn’t tell me about it. That’s not shopping money, Jill. That’s ‘in case our marriage doesn’t work out’ money.” Ben’s eyes were filled with pain despite the hard lines of anger in his face. “Is that why you did it?”
“Yes,” she whispered, closing her eyes.
At the time it had seemed smart to stash some cash in case their marriage crumbled. Now she realized how hurtful and callous it was to give their marriage anything less than her best.
“What happened to ‘I’m in this all the way’?” Ben asked.
“I’m sorry. I am, but—”
“Apparently not,” he growled, opening his palm and making come-hither motions with his fingers. “Give me your license and your debit card. I want them both and your credit cards.”
Jill gaped at him, feeling small and cornered. “You’re taking away my freedom?”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing!” he yelled. “You can get them back when you’ve earned my trust again. You’re to stick around the house for the next few days, and I want you in modest dresses for the next week at least.”
All dresses for a week? What horrid manner of chauvinistic hell was this?
Her hands shook as she got her cards out of her wallet and handed them to him. Relinquishing her plastic minions of freedom was humbling. She’d anticipated Ben yelling at her, but she hadn’t realized he’d punish her where it hurt.
“I want your e-mail password,” he told her.
