Mike ground his teeth and crushed the Styrofoam cup of Police Station coffee in his hand, and threw it into the nearest waste-paper bin. Time to speed this process up and get to the bottom of this.
Smithy smirked and nodded at Mike when he entered the room.
“Webster, say hello to my boss, Mike Anderson. Perhaps you’d like to explain to him how hot you’re finding his woman.”
Webster reared back in his chair and Mike put his hands on the table and leant down until his nose was inches away from the bastard’s face. He wanted nothing more than to smash the man’s nose in, but he clamped down on his fury and clenched his jaw.
“Spill, who took these pictures?”
“I don’t know. It wasn’t me. I barely have time to catch my breath these days. Angela keeps me busy at the shop.”
“Angela?” Mike asked.
“My fiancée. I manage her flower shop, and…”
Mike didn’t hear the rest of the hastily delivered words over the rushing in his ears. That itch turned into a case of hives and ice-cold dread froze the blood in is veins.
“What’s the name of this flower shop?”
“Blooming Break, why? What has that got to do with…?”
Mike was out of the door before Webster had even finished speaking. That van outside Scarlett’s flat had been from Blooming Break, and the woman driver had hidden her face as he’d walked past.
He yelled at Smithy to alert Luke and the rest of the team and yanked his phone out of his pocket to ring Scarlett, and got the unavailable tone.
Fuck it all to hell and back. He couldn’t be too late, he just couldn’t.
* * * *
Scarlett came to on her kitchen table. She blinked rapidly to get her eyes to focus and adrenaline flooded her system when she realized she couldn’t move. She couldn’t even raise her head, as a heavy strap had been pulled over her forehead.
“Don’t even try to move, bitch. How does it feel being trussed up like a turkey by your own restraints? I must say those loop holes under the table are most handy, but then you’d know that. How many men have you had on this table, eh? How much have you made them scream?”
Her tormentor’s face appeared in her vision. Huge brown eyes sat in a face too small for them. Cruel lips turned up in an evil snarl showed straight white teeth. She’d taken the baseball cap off and her blonde hair hung round her face. Scarlett guessed her to be mid-thirties and quite mad if the glazed look in her eyes was anything to go by.
Scarlett shut her eyes and willed her breathing to slow down. Nothing was to be gained by panicking here. If she kept her talking long enough for Mike to realize that the real perp was this woman, then he would make it back here. This didn’t have to end now. She wouldn’t give this crazed cunt the satisfaction. She fucking killed Eric.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Scarlett forced a smile on her face and opened her eyes to the sight of her largest kitchen knife being waved in front of her face.
“Oh, I know, bitch. He denied it of course, but why else would he carry your picture and card in his wallet. He doesn’t even have a picture of me in there.”
“Who? I have no idea what you’re talking about. I—”
The cold steel of the blade against her throat made the words freeze on her tongue.
“Yeah, he said that, too. Said he loved me, and I was talking nonsense. Angela, I love you. She means nothing to me. It was just a stupid fantasy.”
Sharp pain sliced through Scarlett’s sternum when Angela cut her blouse and bra off with the knife.
“Don’t you bleed nicely? Just like your stupid ass cat. God, how I hate cats. I’m allergic, don’t you know. Broke out in hives and ended up with a full blown asthma attack after I took care of him and left him as your little message. So, it took me a little while to get back to you.”
She dug the knife under the waistband of Scarlett’s jeans, and white hot pain sliced through her abdomen as the blade cut through her skin and then the jeans.
Scarlett bit her tongue to stop herself from screaming. Blood filled her mouth and she swallowed to get rid of the metallic taste that brought bile to the back of her throat. She would not give this demented woman the satisfaction of showing her pain.
“Besides you were always with that damn cop. So I knew I had to set up a distraction. Liam always drives too fast. It was only a matter of time before he got stopped by the police, and with all those pictures of you in the boot, I knew they’d pull him in, and your cop would go after him. I do hope he roughs him up a bit. That will teach him not to mess with me. How dare he even look at another woman, after all I did for him?”
Cool air hit Scarlett’s legs and spread pussy as Angela ripped her underwear away with the remnants of her jeans.
“There is that filthy cunt.”
She appeared back at the head of the table and held the bloodied blade up for her to see. Through her pain-filled haze, Scarlett could barely hear her.
“Do you know what I did to your cat, right here? I sliced him open from his balls right up to his throat. It’s only fitting to do the same to you, don’t you think. I’ll start at your cunt and open you up slowly until you scream and beg for me to stop, and when I’m slipping in your entrails then I’ll take your head. That should please lover boy, right.”
Scarlett yanked on her restraints with all of the energy she still had left, which wasn’t much. The scent of blood filled the air, heavy and oppressive, a testament to how much blood she’d lost already. The stupid amateur must have hit one of Scarlett’s arteries when she sliced her clothes off her. It would explain the wooziness invading her brain, and the heavy feeling setting over her.
Angela wouldn’t get the satisfaction of hearing her scream because Scarlett would be dead long before she managed to slice her open completely.
The woman’s manic laughter rang in her ears, seconds before an explosion rocked the flat and the air filled with shouts and screams. The pop of gunfire deafened her, and from far way she heard Mike’s beloved voice.
“Jesus, baby, hold on. Don’t you dare die on me, do you hear me?”
The most agonizing pain yet took her breath away, as someone applied pressure to the inside of her thigh, and tears filled her eyes.
I never got to tell him that I loved him.
“Scarlett, My Lady, don’t you fucking leave me.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Mike, sit down. You’re making Laura dizzy with your constant pacing and if you snarl at one more nurse, you’ll get us thrown out for sure.”
Slade stepped in his way and Pedro’s heavy hands settled on his shoulders from behind.
“We’re all worried about her, amigo.” The Spaniard’s accent was thicker than Mike had ever heard it and his fingers curled painfully into Mike’s shoulders. “Scarlett is a fighter. She’ll pull through this and she’ll need her toy by her side when she does, so behave.”
His voice had dropped to an angry whisper, but the waiting room was quiet and Smithy’s eyes widened. His deputy had made it into the hospital the minute he’d completed the required paperwork, and now stood leaning against the wall, hands shoved into his trousers.
Mike shook Pedro’s hands off and snarled at him.
“Don’t you think I know that? Take your fucking hands off me, before I grind your face into the wall.”
Laura gasped, Slade shook his head, and Pedro laughed. Laughed, for fuck’s sake.
“Easy there, boy.”
Mike growled at the hated moniker that he had no intention of accepting from anyone else but Scarlett. What the fuck was the Spaniard playing at? In front of Smithy to boot?
Slade murmured something to Pedro in Spanish that Mike didn’t catch, and he sidestepped both and stared out at the dismal view of the hospital car park. It was pouring down with rain, fitting weather for his foul mood.
“Fucking stupid question, I know, boss, but are you okay?” Smithy asked and Mike shook his head. “I’m here to ruffle up some ove
rbearing Doms a bit, if you need some help.”
That brought Mike’s head up and Smithy shrugged his shoulders and smirked. A look of quiet understanding passed between them, and Smithy pulled the neckline of his shirt away to expose a thin silver chain. Mike had seen it countess times, but he’d never made the obvious connection before and some of his tight insides unfurled. Smithy was owned.
“I get it, boss. Just thought you should know. Three years next week. Best thing I ever did. Not the sort of thing you admit to the guys, though, huh?”
Mike sucked in a shaky laugh and shook his head.
Smithy punched him in the shoulder and resumed his slouch against the wall.
“She’ll be okay, Mike.” Laura wrapped her arms around him and hugged him. “She’s got a lot to live for, bro.”
“She fucking better be, Laura. I can’t lose her now. I’ve only just found her, dammit, and I…I…” He crunched his teeth together and turned around and hugged his sister back.
“I know, Mike, I know. She loves you, too. It’s obvious to anyone who knows her. You two are good together, and you got to her in time.”
“God, I fucking hope so.” Mike blinked the moisture in his eyes away. Seeing his Lady tied spread-eagled, naked and bleeding out across that table, had to have been the worst image he’d ever come across. Her demented attacker had gone down like a sack of potatoes with the head and body shot Luke had gotten in, seconds before Mike’s shots had hit their target, too.
The youngster had taken his first kill hard, and Mike would be forever indebted to his quick thinking. The charge had blown the front door off its hinges, giving them enough time to enter and kill the bitch before she could do any more damage to Scarlett’s body. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on Mike. Scarlett was an expert in knife play, and it had fast become one of Mike’s favorite scenes. That blood bath he’d walked into was a poor imitation of Scarlett’s expertise and he swallowed down bile and shook his head to rid himself of those terrifying images.
“Don’t think any of us would think less of you if you cried. It helps, trust me.”
Mike grunted his denial.
“I’m not a fucking crybaby, sis.”
“I know that, just my dumbass brother.”
Laura’s voice wobbled with unshed tears and Slade stepped up and pulled her into a fierce hug. She clung to him, and Mike nodded at Slade.
Whatever happened, Laura was taken care of. He just had to sort out the fucking mess that was his own life.
The room tilted when the doctor finally walked in.
* * * *
Scarlett’s head throbbed as though she’d had the mother of all hangovers and every muscle in her body ached. Something plastic was stuffed up her nose and a shrill beep in her ear did nothing to alleviate that headache.
“Welcome back, My Lady.” The gravelly tones of Mike’s beloved voice brought a smile to Scarlett’s lips and she struggled to pry her heavy eyelids open.
When she did, Mike’s face slowly came into focus. Lord, he looked awful. Dark shadows under his eyes and days-old stubble spoke of the fact that he hadn’t had much sleep, and unless her memory played tricks on her he’d been wearing those clothes when he left her at her flat.
He leant down to place a lingering kiss on her forehead, and she wrinkled her nose.
“You don’t smell too good, brass.”
A strangled laugh escaped him and he pulled back to look at her. His expressive blue eyes scanned her face and she didn’t miss the frantic, if ever-so gentle way he ran his hands all over her body as though he needed the reassurance that she was indeed here, and alive. Well, wasn’t that something of a miracle?
She raised her hand and he grasped the lifeline and squeezed.
“Good, now that you’re finally awake, will you please order that stubborn sub of yours to go and take a shower?”
“Fuck off, Slade.” Mike’s grunted answer made Scarlett laugh, or at least attempt to laugh, but it hurt too much so she coughed and stopped.
Immediately Mike was there, propping her up more and looking so blessedly worried she instantly felt better. He held a glass of water to her lips and Scarlett swallowed a few sips of the cool liquid. It lubricated her parched throat and helped to get rid of some of the stale taste in her mouth. Argh, she needed to brush her teeth and have a shower herself.
“You heard the man, Mike. Go and shower.”
He looked all set to argue, but whatever he read in her face stopped any objections he was about to utter.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Scarlett said and Laura’s relieved laughter joined a Spanish curse. So Laura and Pedro were here, too, then. Great, just great. She no doubt looked like a cabbage patch doll all stitched together after what that bitch did to her, and half of Club Spectrum seemed to be in her hospital room.
“That’s not funny, My Lady.”
Scarlett focused her attention back on Mike and the heated passion and love that blazed back at her made her forget where they were.
“Humor is all I’ve got left right now. It’s that or cry and I reckon that would hurt too much.”
Mike made a strange sound at the back of his throat and pulled her into a careful hug. His hot breath skittered across her neck and Scarlett closed her eyes and let the tears fall.
“I’ve got you, My Lady. To quote a wise woman I know, none of us will blame you for crying. Sometimes it helps. You’ve been through a fucking ordeal, and I’m so sorry I didn’t get there sooner. I left the minute I realized the trap for what it was. The fucking bitch set up her fiancé to take the fall. She even faked the evidence by shucking his semen over Eric. Turns out they’ve got fertility problems, and the sick bitch used one of his samples.”
Scarlett nodded and let Mike’s strength sink into her weary body.
“She seemed to think he had some sort of an affair with me. I told her I had no idea what the fuck she was talking about. I tried to keep her talking, but she was…” Scarlett shuddered, remembering, and Mike pulled her closer still.
“A psychotic who fixated on you as the cause of their sexual problems, it seems. Liam Webster, that’s her fiancé, by the way, used to manage the small coffee shop you like on the corner. You might remember him. Thin, unassuming guy, with thick glasses?”
Scarlett pulled back and Mike settled her against the cushions and offered her some more water. She took a few more sips as her mind whirled and made the connection.
“Yes, Jesus, yes, I do remember him. But he left that place ages ago. He gave me the creeps. Never said anything, he just used to come out from the back and stare at me. In the end I walked up to him, handed him my business card, and told him to look me up if he wanted taking in hand. I laid it on quite thick, because he pissed me off. I never heard from him of course, and he left soon after. I know his type, all mouth and no trousers. They never follow through, so I didn’t even give it another thought. What a fucking mess. So, this Angela found my card and put two and two together and got fourteen, right?”
Mike nodded and Pedro swore again as a young woman walked into the room, holding a notebook. The perfectly made-up brunette positively bounced in excitement.
“How very interesting. My readers will be fascinated to hear your side of the story, Ms. Simpson. The human angle behind the S&M game gone wrong. I…Ouch…Let me go, you brute…You can’t do that.”
Pedro had picked the woman up and slung her over his shoulder. She screamed her indignation and pummeled his back until a few well-placed smacks to her shapely ass, covered by her pencil skirt, shut her up.
“I told you already, pequeño. There’s no story here, so do the good folks a favor and peddle your filth somewhere else.”
“I don’t write filth, damn you. Put me down, you overbearing…”
The rest of her renewed tirade was drowned out by Pedro’s laughter as he carried her down the corridor and out of ear shot.
“I should probably go after them and make sure that Spanish temper of his
does not get him into trouble again,” Slade said and held his hand out to Laura. She followed with a watery smile in Scarlett’s direction and then she was alone with Mike.
“You really do need a shower, you know,” she said and earned herself a weak smile. “You’re no good to me if you don’t look after yourself, brass.”
Mike grasped her hand and brought it to his lips. A tingle went up her arm as he dropped a kiss on it and then turned her hand over to trace the lines of her skin with his tongue. He nipped at the delicate skin of her wrist and then released her with a smile.
“So, does that mean My Lady has come to her senses and has agreed to keep me around?”
His tone was teasing, but the tight set of his broad shoulders gave him away as well as the lines of tension around his eyes.
“That depends,” she said.
“On what, My Lady?”
“On whether you still intend to put me over your knee?”
Some of the god-awful tension left his big body and he regarded her with the most sinful smile that made Scarlett want to jump his bones. Or at least she would, once she was recovered. The thought that she was truly free of the shit brought tears to her eyes and Mike leant in and kissed them away.
“I will do whatever pleases My Lady, and I have fantasized about reddening that ass of yours.”
Scarlett giggled and pulled his goatee. This too had grown too long for her liking.
“In that case, you will go home, shower and groom, and get a good night’s sleep, and only come back here when you’ve achieved that. Once I’m well, and you’ve been a good boy, then I might just give you that fantasy.”
Mike kissed her then, and Scarlett lost herself in that tender exploration of her mouth. By the time she finally pulled away they were both breathing heavily and Mike adjusted himself through his trousers with a rueful grin in her direction.
“Your wish is my command, My Lady.”
Scarlett smiled as happiness fizzed through her veins.
“And Mike?”
“Yes, My Lady?”
“The other thing you said before you left my flat. Did you mean that, too?”
Auctioned to Protect [The Spectrum Auctions 2] (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 11
