The Effing List

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The Effing List Page 8

by Cherise Sinclair


  After doing her business, she walked into the dressing area to unfasten her bustier, give her ribs a scratch, and let her skin breathe.

  Oh yes, much better.

  A few deep breaths later, she re-did the tiny hooks—what idiot invented this contraption anyway?—and adjusted her breasts.

  Checking herself out in the wall mirror, she had to laugh. Cleavage, I have it.

  On the other side of the divider, the music from the club grew louder for a moment as a door opened and closed.

  “Fuck. Just fuck,” a young voice whispered loudly. “This place is fucking scary. Did you hear the woman screaming?”

  “I know.” This voice was also young with a southern accent. “Should we sneak out? Maybe he wouldn’t notice?”

  “Dream on. His friend is waiting for us. And how would we get home anyway? Fuck, what if they want to—you know. Did you see the way his friend, like, drooled, when he saw us?”

  “We shouldn’t’ve done this, Alexis. I’m so stupid! I thought it’d be the ult, getting into a place like this. Like we’d be the stars of the class. I’m sorry.”

  An ugly feeling tightened Valerie’s stomach. The class? College students didn’t show off to their class—maybe to their sorority or dorm buddies.

  High schoolers did. But high schoolers couldn’t get into a BDSM club…could they?

  “I’m scared, Chloe. I don’t want to be here.”

  Valerie started around the divider—slowly—not wanting to frighten them away.

  The choice was taken away.

  The door to the restroom whooshed as it opened, and someone called, “Hey, Valerie. Are you in here?”

  “I’m here.” Valerie stepped out.

  Two young women stood by the sinks. A quick glance told her they certainly weren’t twenty-one. More like seventeen or eighteen.

  Seeing her, they edged toward the door, then stopped. Afraid to leave.

  “Hold on a minute, please, ladies,” Valerie said.

  Natalia waited just inside. “Hey, Valerie. Linda said—”

  “Can you bring Ghost here, please. Quickly,” Valerie interrupted.

  Wait, if the men waiting for the girls were outside this door, then having Ghost—a man—waltzing into the women’s room would be too obvious. “Bring him through the entry door, not this one.”

  “Oh.” Natalia obviously heard the grim note in Valerie’s tone. “I’ll get him right away.”

  Now what?

  Valerie smiled at the girls. “Hey, I’m Valerie, and I’m a professor at the university. Sounds like you have a problem. Maybe I can help?”

  As the lanky redhead stood petrified, the short blonde burst into tears. Pulling the crying one close, Valerie took the redhead’s hand and guided them around to the dressing area. She sat down with them on the long bench.

  “There, now, it’ll be all right. We’ll get this straightened out.” How many years had she spent offering the same reassurances to her two children?

  “Are we going to get in trouble?” the blonde asked.

  “Weeeell, I might have to lecture you a smidgen—I am a professor, after all.”

  The crying one gurgled a slightly hysterical laugh, and the redhead leaned in, letting Valerie wrap her free arm around her.

  The way the girls were trembling sent fury through Valerie’s veins. If the bastard who’d brought them here had been in reach, she’d kick him so hard, he’d curl up like a worm around his ruptured testicles.

  With a bit of persuasion, she established the girls’ names.

  Alexis was the slender, f-word-loving redhead.

  The crying blonde was Chloe, originally from Georgia.

  The sound of the door opening made them all freeze. Footsteps sounded on the marble floor.

  Ghost strode around the corner, bearing erect. Mouth stern.

  The girls relaxed, then Alexis frowned. “Can a guy come in the girls’ room?”

  * * *

  What the fuck?

  Ghost pulled in a slow breath. Natalia had said Valerie asked him to come quickly. He’d been expecting an upset professor, not two young women who clung to Valerie like toddlers who’d lost their mama.

  They looked so young.

  He frowned. Too young. He’d be damned if they were older than nineteen. If that.

  And he was scaring them. Bad colonel.

  Deliberately relaxing his muscles, he smiled. “Good evening, ladies. As it happens, I’m one of the Masters here, so I’m allowed to poke my nose into every room. Even in here when someone asks for me.” He lifted an eyebrow at Valerie.

  “Thank you for coming. We have a bit of a problem.” Her warm voice was so comforting the girls leaned in closer.

  He had to appreciate her wording. “We” showed she was standing with the girls. And they had only “a bit” of a problem. One he’d been summoned to fix. “Let’s hear it.”

  “Someone named Wrecker told Alexis and Chloe he could get them into the club since he’s the manager here. Now they’re here, he said they’d all go have a good time upstairs. Him and one or two of his friends. Privately.”

  Jesus. Ghost forced his voice to stay calm. “Can I assume they’re not twenty-one?”

  “No. Eighteen, barely, and seniors in high school. They’ve figured out this isn’t a good place for them, but they have no transportation. The manager drove them here.”

  Don’t blow your stack, Colonel. “I’m glad you realized the danger, ladies. Good job.”

  The compliment reassured them.

  With a shuddering breath, the petite blonde wiped her eyes.

  Now, what to do? Hadn’t he seen Max playing in the back dungeon with Alastair and Zuri? Sorry, Max.

  “First, I’d like you to talk to one of our members. He’s a cop—and no”—he held up his hand to forestall the protests—“you’re not in trouble with the law. We want to make sure this doesn’t happen to another girl, maybe even one of your classmates.”

  “But, but…” The blonde was shrinking back.

  The slender redhead was made of stronger stuff. “He’s right. We were fucking stupid, but we’re okay. Only, maybe someone even dumber, like your sister, wouldn’t be.”

  A flash of worry crossed the blonde’s face, and her chin went up. “Okay.”

  “You got this?” Ghost asked Valerie.

  “I do. However, if you could walk in here, can’t the manager? Apparently, he was called away to deal with a fight in the dungeon and left them with one of his friends—who might be getting antsy.”

  “I’ll handle it. Sit tight.” Leaving through the entry, walking quietly so as not to wake the snoozing guard, he entered the club, spotted Olivia, and motioned her over.

  She gave him an unreadable look. “What?”

  Whatever her problem with him was, he’d deal with it later. “I could use some help. Wrecker brought in a couple of high school girls to play with.”

  Olivia’s face darkened. “The bloody wanker.”

  “Exactly. They’re hiding in the restroom with Valerie—a friend of mine. I want them to talk with Max.”

  “Good plan. And me?”

  “While I find and brief him, will you take guard duty?” Ghost motioned to the restroom behind them. “If Wrecker or his conspirators poke their head in, can you tell them you’re the only person in there?”

  “I can and I will.” She smiled tightly. “It’ll be a pleasure.”

  Ghost left her to it. At the bar, he sent Cullen in search of Max and pulled Josie over to fill her in. Having a lookout might be wise.

  * * *

  On the way to the loo, Olivia spotted a man by the munchie section, who was keeping an eye on the door. Hmm. He was one of the new members who’d joined shortly after Wrecker had been hired.

  When he turned to assemble some food from the buffet, she slipped into the restroom. As the door closed behind her, she glanced around. The Masters and Mistresses had their own locker room, and she hadn’t been in here in years.


  No one in sight. She poked her head around the divider. Yes, there were two terrified girls tucked against a blonde about Ghost’s age. “Good evening. I’m Olivia, serving as your guard dog while you’re in here.”

  Ghost’s friend relaxed. “Thank you so much for helping out.”

  “It’s my pleasure. Sit tight and quiet, and I’ll fend off the bad guys.” On that note, Olivia headed back to take up position just inside the doors.

  Hmm. If Wrecker invaded the restroom in search of his missing girls, she should provide a reason for him to leave quickly.

  Smiling slightly, she unclipped the flogger from her waist, then undid her corset about halfway down.

  A thought made her stiffen. She’d seen Natalia earlier—and had crossed to the other side of the club to avoid her. What if the subbie came in here?

  Talk about awkward. She didn’t have a chance to worry, though.

  The door was shoved open. And there was the manager in his black vinyl pants and sleeveless shirt. Aren’t you all shiny, you dodgy git?

  He stopped dead, the door half open. “Olivia.”

  Hands on her hips, she gave him the haughty glare she’d learned from Anne, a warning that indicated the male’s balls would be in danger if he continued in his stupidity. “I believe you’re in the wrong room. This is the loo for the feminine oriented. Or was I mistaken about your gender identity?”

  The way red rolled into his beefy face was quite rewarding. “Yeah, no. Just searching for a couple of friends of mine. They in here?”

  She glanced at her flogger. It’d be so satisfying to whip him right out of the room.

  Instead, she rolled her eyes. “You have no friends in here, Wrecker. Now sod off—and close the door. I’m not putting on a strip-show for the club.”

  For a long moment, he stood there, his gaze on the toilets behind her. The doors were open; no feet showed in the stalls.

  Without another word, he turned and left.

  Her eyes narrowed.

  After Natalia moved out, Olivia had tried to erase her memory with meaningless play for a couple of weeks. Failing miserably, she’d given up and stayed away from the club. Until this evening after Holt called.

  Apparently, the other Masters and Anne hadn’t been here either. Hadn’t anyone been around to see what the bloody wanker was doing to their club?

  * * *

  At the bar, while filling Max and Cullen in, Ghost saw Wrecker enter the restroom—and exit rather quickly.

  Good job, Olivia.

  After Wrecker spoke with a Dom near the food tables, they both walked out the door.

  Leaving during the club’s busiest time? Hell of a manager. Despite his disgust, Ghost nodded in satisfaction. Now, Max would have time to talk to the girls.

  Cullen gathered some sodas and cookies, then joined Ghost and Max as they headed toward the restroom.

  “Thanks for helping,” Ghost said to Max. “Sorry about disrupting your scene.”

  The cop shrugged. “Interruptions come with the job. We were wrapping up the session anyway, and Alastair will enjoy giving Zuri aftercare. Hell, he’ll probably drag her upstairs and taunt me about it later.”

  Cullen grinned. “The doc has a mean side.”

  In the restroom, Olivia was hooking up her corset. “If you’re going to talk with the girls, I’ll continue to stand guard.”

  “Thanks, Olivia,” Ghost said.

  Her short nod made him wonder if she was angry at Wrecker—or at him?

  As the girls started on the food and drinks Cullen had brought, Max introduced himself and showed his badge. He took a knee on the hard floor, putting him at the level of the girls. He was a big man with the hard expression of someone who’d seen the worst of humanity, and Ghost was impressed at his ability to appear nonthreatening.

  Under his gentle questioning, the complete story came out.

  At the beach, the girls had been sighing over the Fifty Shades movie, and Wrecker heard them. He’d said he could show them all kinds of BDSM stuff, but they—smart girls—said no. So, he told them about the Shadowlands and said he could get them in, no problem.

  Fucking bastard. Z was going to… Hell, there were no words.

  Olivia stepped around the corner. “Josie sent word that Wrecker is back in the club and doing a search.”

  Ah, the asshole and his buddy must have been driving up and down the road, hunting for the girls…without success.

  At the news, Chloe and Alexis started clinging to Valerie again.

  “Right, then.” Max closed his notebook and turned off the recorder. “I’ll take you two home.”

  The girls jumped up. “That’s it?” Alexis asked.

  “That’s it. He’s our problem now.” Max handed them each his card. “Let’s go.”

  After giving Valerie long hugs—and smiling at Ghost—the girls followed the detective out the door to the entry. The guard might report their escape to Wrecker, but it would be too late.

  On the drive, Max intended to discuss the law, the dangers, and would probably manage to talk with their parents. He was a good cop.

  “Ghost, I’ll wait for you at the bar,” Cullen said.

  “I’ll be right there.” Ghost turned to Valerie, who was still sitting on the bench.

  Her brow was puckered with worry. Because she cared. Because she’d stepped in. Alexis and Chloe hadn’t asked her for help; she’d involved herself anyway.

  “Nice work with the girls, Professor. I’m glad you were here.” He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “Not the way you thought the evening would go, I bet.”

  Her laugh was a beautiful, husky contralto. “Not even close. Thank goodness you were here.”

  “I’d like to settle you at the bar to unwind while Cullen and I deal with Wrecker.”

  He saw the objections in her eyes, but then she showed him her trembling hands. “Unwinding might be wise.”

  “Good answer.” She’d handled everything with admirable calm. Not until after the crisis had she started to shake.

  He really did like this woman.

  As he led her into the dim interior of the club, the thrumming music washed over him. He tucked an arm around her soft waist and curled his fingers over one pleasingly round hip. She fit against him exactly right.

  She gazed up at him. “When Wrecker spoke to Olivia, his voice sounded familiar. Would his real name be Scott Hicks?”

  “It is.” Ghost eyed her. “Do you know him?”

  “He’s one of my ex-husband’s friends.” Her nose wrinkled. “I always thought he was a creep, but perving on high school girls is past disgusting.”

  “I’d have to agree with you there.” He studied her for a moment. “How long have you been divorced?”

  “Separated since last November, official in January.”

  Fairly recent then. “Children?”

  “Two and one grandson.” The way her voice softened told him her family hadn’t lacked for love. Lucky kids.

  At the far end of the bar, Cullen was talking with Saxon, one of the younger Masters. He and Jake, another Master, ran a veterinary practice.

  Hips swaying to the music, Josie was mixing drinks. “Colonel, what can I get you?”

  He shot her a look that made her laugh.

  “Hey, colonel isn’t so bad,” she said. “Jessica told me about a club in San Francisco where the submissives call the owner My Liege.”

  “God help me,” he muttered.

  Valerie had her hand over her mouth, but her eyes were laughing.

  “I am no longer,” he said with emphasis, “in the military.”

  “Right you are, Sir,” Josie said with a tiny salute.

  “I’m going to tell Holt to beat you more often.”

  Valerie stiffened. “No, you shouldn’t.”

  The professor was quite the defender of young women, wasn’t she? Ghost leaned down and whispered, “It’s an idle threat. Holt is a gentle Dom.”

  “Oh. Oh, that’s goo
d.”

  He tugged on her hair. “I, however, am not.”

  To his delight, she swallowed, and her body leaned against his.

  “So, you two. Orders?” Josie held up his bottle of Elijah Craig bourbon.

  He shook his head. “Nothing for me. Valerie?”

  “I’m fine. Really.”

  He eyed her. No purse. No wallet-sized bulges. “There isn’t a charge for drinks, lass. Why don’t you two figure it out while I deal with business?”

  She touched his arm. “Be careful.”

  “Of course.” He stroked his hand over her silky hair, then collected Cullen with a glance.

  Indicating that Cullen had filled him in, Saxon came too. The veterinarian was almost as big as Cullen and moved like a fighter. Good enough.

  Any one of them could toss Wrecker out, but the manager had friends here. If he called for help, a brawl might erupt. Hopefully, a show of overwhelming force would intimidate the bastard enough he’d leave quietly.

  “He’s over there, Ghost.” Cullen jerked his jaw toward the munchie corner where Wrecker was sitting and watching the restroom door like a cat at a mousehole.

  “Probably still hoping the girls will reappear.”

  Saxon grinned. “We’ll make a good substitute. I have really nice legs, after all.”

  “You do. I’ve noticed that myself.” Ghost coughed as Saxon’s elbow hit his ribs.

  As they approached, Wrecker scowled. “I don’t have time to deal with your problems. Come back later.”

  “You’re our problem,” Cullen said. “We’re going to show you to the door. Z will be in touch.”

  Face darkening with anger, the asshole jumped to his feet. “What the fuck. I’m the fucking manager here and—”

  “We spoke to the high schoolers,” Ghost said in a low voice. “You can leave quietly, or I’ll make a call, and you’ll be in handcuffs with a police escort.”

  Wrecker took a step back, then shook his head. “I don’t know any high—”

  The bastard. With a growl, Ghost took his arm, ready to dislocate it if he put up a fight.

  When Saxon slapped a big hand on the asshole’s shoulder, and Cullen stepped closer, Wrecker caved.

 

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