Double Entendre: (City of Steel 2) (The Vault)

by Katherine Rhodes

  I heard Vanessa swallow hard and sat in the chair. “I’m not your pet anymore, Baron. I left. We’re not here for this. I’m not coming back to the fold. We’re here for information and an invitation.”

  He laughed, sitting down in his own throne-like chair. “You want to invite me somewhere?”

  “We have—”

  Placing a hand on her shoulder, I stopped her. “I’ll explain.”

  Vanessa bit her lip and nodded.

  “There is someone going around and beating the shit out of subs in various clubs throughout the city.” He looked bored and yawned. I waited until he was done before I continued. “I sincerely hope we aren’t boring you. We are here for information. Vanity says you know most of the underground Doms, that you’ve even trained a few of them. I may not approve or even be able to stomach some of the shit I’ve seen in here, but this is not my jurisdiction, and this is not my place to judge. I wouldn’t even know where to start unless one of these people came to me and asked for my help. So. I am not here to deprive you of your depravations. We are here to ask for your help. Because I’ve so far made the stupid assumption that you have some kind of pride and scruples.”

  He leveled an icy cold gaze at me. I knew that gaze—it was one that Peter Billings had pointed out to me more than once. The empty, dark expression of a sociopath. Someone who didn’t have a motivation for anything beyond what they wanted, and the drive to get exactly what they wanted by any means necessary.

  I held his gaze. He was not the first sociopath I’d had a staring contest with and he wouldn’t be the last.

  He finally broke the stare. “Someone beating up subs?”

  “Crippling them.”

  “Really now. How tedious.”

  I stared at him. Flat affect—unless this direction affected him, he wasn’t interested. “They are getting into the club, disabling and tying up the Dom to take their place, and then beating the shit out of them. Artfully.”

  Steepling his fingers, Baron cocked his head. “Interesting. So no prior contact with them asking for such a thing?”

  “No, it’s pure sadism,” Vanity said.

  “There is no pattern of contact before the attack, or after. There’s no sense that this might happen to someone,” I added. “One of the attacked women has been left partially crippled from the caning. There was bone exposed when we found her and took her to the hospital.”

  Baron waved that off. “I’ve crippled people before. That’s not an uncommon occurrence when it comes to the level of pain we mete out. But the consent...” He tipped his head. “That delights me. No consent.”

  She twitched under his glare but said nothing.

  Flicking his gaze back to me, he drummed the fingers together. “We only inflict literal crippling pain with written consent. I will not be held responsible for someone changing their mind after I’ve taken their mobility, to whatever degree.”

  “That sounds like a crock of shit to me.”

  “Do you think anyone in this house hasn’t sought out this subspace—the painspace—I inflict on them? Do you think that I had to hold down Risa”—he gestured to the woman hanging from the ceiling—“to have her get those hooks installed? Do you think she doesn’t willingly let me lace up her back and tie her up there?”

  “I don’t know what you—”

  “Please,” Vanity snapped. “You push the idea of consent to its outermost limits. It wouldn’t shock me if you cajoled her somehow and she had no idea what she was getting into.” She snorted. “Office decoration.”

  “I don’t recall you complaining too loudly. Or at all.”

  “I was a kid. What the hell did I know about any of this? You had me call you Master and I trusted you. You offered me drugs, a place to take them, and a dry place to sleep. I wound up in the hospital two years later because you used me as a whipping post for Lance.”

  He leaned forward and folded his arms on the desk. “You love pain. You always have, you always will. Are you even anywhere close to how much pleasure you got here with your little safe and sane community? You know I could keep you nearly orgasmic for hours.”

  “With no life. No friends. No education, no future. Yes, I love pain, but it’s not the only thing I need. You know what, fuck this. Let’s go. This was a stupid idea—”

  I grabbed her shoulder before she could stand. “Wait. Just hold on.” She looked up at me, and she was furious. I just stared back for a moment. “You don’t have to say a thing. I’ll handle this.”

  Vanity huffed, but stayed in the chair.

  “Look, Baron, all we’re looking for is a lead. If anyone in the underground has one, we need their help. These women are being beaten without mercy and without consent—which I do believe is beyond even you and this house of perversion. If you or anyone you know has information, get it to Titus Salucci. He said he will have his front door open if they don’t want to call.”

  He leaned back again. “Have any men been injured?”

  “None. Just tied up and stuffed in closets or knocked out.”

  He ran his thumb over his lips, thinking. “You’re looking for a woman, then, aren’t you?”

  I almost said yes. “Do you have ideas?”

  Shaking his head, he looked thoughtful. “I know someone who might. I will get word. Titus’s house?”

  “You know where it is?”

  “Of course.” He waved us off. “Are you sure I can’t bring you back for just a little play time, Vanity? You were always so responsive. Such wonderful orgasms. You played in that swing more than once…”

  I stepped around the chair and stood in front of her, drawing Baron’s gaze up to mine. “You will never contact her or talk to her again. You will keep your hands off her, and if I find that you have in any way contacted my woman, I will find a way to bring you in and charge you with the worst crimes I can wring out of your smarmy, fucked-up little ass. Am I understood?”

  His eyebrows rose just slightly. “Your woman. Well.” He grabbed some papers and tapped them square. “Vanity, you know the way out. I can’t say it’s been a pleasure.”

  Vanity hooked her arm in mine and pulled me toward the door. I stared him down before she managed to get me to move. “Likewise.”

  The hall seemed longer than before and louder with the screams of people in the house. Vanity was practically running. She would have if I hadn’t held on to her hand on my arm.

  “Slow down, Vanessa,” I whispered. “If you run, he’s going to see that he’s gotten under your skin. Walk. Fast, but walk.”

  Without a word, she fell in step with me. We hiked up the stairs, back through the meat market in the living room, and back to the foyer. Once we were through the front door, I pulled it neatly closed behind me.

  Before she could sprint to the car, I wrapped her in my arms. “Deep breath, Nessa. You did perfect.”

  “Simon, I want that. I want the pain.”

  “I know, pretty girl. I know.”

  “I need to go see Laicy.”

  I lifted her chin so she could look at me. “I will help you, but you have to come home with me. Can you trust me?”

  She nodded.

  “Good. Let’s get in the car.”

  I pressed the fob in my pocket with her still tucked against me and the doors unlocked with a silent flash. I helped her in and headed to the driver’s side.

  I stopped dead just as I rounded the trunk.

  There was young girl, crouching there. She couldn’t have been nineteen, and she was caked in…filth. I guess from the ground. She watched me as I resumed my walk to the driver’s door.

  I opened the door and bent down as though I were fixing the car mat. “What’s your name?”

  “Lila,” she whispered.

  Vanity snapped her head down.

  Vanity

  The small voice startled me, and I couldn’t help my reaction. I was not in a good place to deal with being subtle. Nor was I in a place to be so shocked hearing someone there.
<
br />   Simon clued me in. “Don’t look away, Vanity. She’s hiding behind the tire. Lila, you want out of here?”

  “Yes. Please, please. This isn’t anything like I thought.”

  “Okay, don’t move yet. I’m going to stand up and take my jacket off. I have a hanger in the backseat, and when I open the door to hang it up, you’re going to quickly crawl in and lie on the floorboards. Got it?”

  “Yes, please, thank you.”

  He stood from the ruse in the front seat and walked to the door to pop it open. Swinging the jacket off, he reached in for the hanger. “Go on, now.”

  She quickly scrabbled in as he hung the jacket up. He closed the door right after that and climbed in the front seat, pulling that door closed.

  “Don’t move until I tell you it’s clear, Lila.”

  I stared resolutely at the radio dials, flipping through the onboard selection of music. Starting the car, Simon backed up a bit and swung around, heading back down the leaf-littered driveway.

  “Stay down for now,” I said, picking a softer song to fill the car. “Would you like a drink? I have some bottles of water.”

  “Please,” she whispered.

  I reached into the bag at my feet and retrieved one. I slid it back under my arm, minimizing the movements. Simon paused at the drive entrance and made a left instead of a right—which was the way we drove up.

  “We’ll be out of sight faster this way if the map didn’t lie to me,” he explained, pressing the gas a little harder. He didn’t like Baron at all. No one did. He was a means to an end. I knew that from the very beginning.

  “Simon…I’m sorry I dragged you here.”

  He glanced back at the girl on the floorboards. “I’m not.”

  This guy was too good to be true. Really.

  He kept checking mirrors. “How long do you think it will be until Baron realizes you’re gone?”

  “Probably about an hour. I was…” She choked and gagged.

  My eyes went wide as I looked at Simon, and then back at her. “Please stay on the floor. That’s okay?”

  “I wouldn’t dream of sitting on anything but the floor.”

  Looking over at the man behind the wheel—the man who just claimed me as his woman to a man who put the utmost belief in a claiming like that—and didn’t want to explain why I had just asked this poor woman to stay on the floor. “Simon, can we find a hotel? And somewhere to get some new clothes?”

  “Of course, there are a few towns up ahead. He glanced between us. “What’s going on?”

  “Humiliation is one of the tools of Baron’s trade,” I mumbled. “What’s the most humiliating thing you can possibly imagine?”

  He snapped his head back and then forward again. “That’s not mud.”

  “No, it’s not.” I shook my head.

  “There are some senior members of his clan that have a…bathroom fetish.”

  “Oh my God.” He looked at me sharply, and then back at the road. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes. Only the subs who catch the eye of one of those masters ever has to,” I explained. “What happened?”

  “Noran shot up with heroin and passed out as I heard Baron talking to you in his room. I ran upstairs and the door was open.” She glanced up at Simon’s head. “I did roll in the dirt and mud to cover myself.”

  “We’ll find a hotel and sort this out.”

  I was thankful that Simon kept his cool and found the nearest big town we could get lost in: Morgantown. There was a decent chain hotel just near a drug store and a big box store, and I could see them from the car as he checked us in. He pulled us around the corner, and we were up one floor at the back.

  Grabbing Simon’s arm before he got out, I held him in the car. “Please. Let me take care of her. Can you go to the stores and get what we need? Two pair of pants, shirts, undershirts and panties, ladies medium. Get shampoo, conditioner, brush, bar soap, liquid soap, toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, moisturizer, socks, and a pair of slippers. Grab activated charcoal and a laxative.”

  Her hand shot up from her place on the floor, and I looked back. She had a request on the tip of her tongue as well. “Please… I just started…”

  “And maxipads,” I added. “Long overnights. We’ll finesse that later.”

  “I’m also going to grab some pizza,” he said, pointing to a chain shop.

  “Thank you.” I nodded and climbed out.

  “Wait! In the trunk, I have a big garbage bag. Take that up with you and just get all the remains of those clothes in the bag. Wipe down before you turn on the shower, and throw the towels out. I’ll tell the front desk and pay for them.”

  I leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Lila crawled back out through the door she had entered—I’d have to pay for his detailing when we got back, but that was fine.

  Simon waited until the door was closed and I peeked out at him to finally back out of the spot.

  Lila had walked straight to the bathroom. In this light, as she was standing there, I could assess her better. She wasn’t as bad as I thought, but it was still terrible. I motioned her to stand in the tub.

  “Let’s get the clothes off first,” I said.

  She had her arms wrapped around her. “Thank you, for this. I didn’t know what to do, who to talk to.”

  “Simon is a detective in Pittsburgh.” I smiled. “He’s absolutely the right person to talk to. When he gets back and we get you all clean, if you know of anyone else who wants to leave, we can talk to the right people to help them out.”

  “There’s two other women and a guy…”

  “We’ll talk to Simon about them later. Strip. Put everything in the bag.” I held the bag open, and she peeled out of the shirt and shorts she was wearing, dropping each in the bag. We got to work scrubbing her down and dropped the towels in the bag.

  I started the water running and we were lucky enough to have a hand-held shower head. I popped it off and put it on hard massage, and started with her hair.

  The door opened just as I was finishing the second rinse and Simon walked into the room. He walked over and handed me the bag of toiletries.

  “I bought two kinds of shampoo, one stronger and one more gentle,” he said. “Found some detangler in the kids aisle too, since we didn’t know how bad it was.”

  “You are a knight in a trench coat, Joe Friday.” I smiled. “Scoot, we’ll get this done.”

  He closed the door and Lila looked exhausted.

  “We have to keep going. We can’t stop now.”

  “I know. I’m just tired.”

  “Well, we’ve hosed down the tub and scrubbed it out. Have a seat and we’ll get going on your hair.”

  She nodded and sank gratefully to the bottom of the tub. I looked at her hair and sighed. She had admitted that she hadn’t been able to take care of it properly. And from this angle? This was going to take a while.

  I hauled the bag of filth out to a dumpster I spotted behind the hotel and dropped it in. It felt good to be outside for a moment, but the chill was in the air.

  My hair was still damp from my own shower—which I had taken after I found the cleanser with bleach in the bag and scrubbed down the bathroom.

  Lila felt bad, but by the time I had come back out from the shower, she was asleep.

  And when I walked back in, Simon was sitting at the table, chewing slowly on a cold piece of pizza, up from his nap.

  “You need sleep, pretty girl. It’s been a hell of a long day for you.” He smiled at me.

  I didn’t need sleep at all. I walked over to him at the table and slid onto his lap, tucking my head into his shoulder. “This is what I need. This is what I’ve needed since we walked out the door of that hellhole.”

  He dropped a small, sweet kiss on my forehead. “You have been incredible all day, Nessa.” Glancing over at the girl sleeping quietly, he shrugged. “I would not have known what to do with her. Or for her.”

  “Yes, you would have. You would have fig
ured it out. You’re good that way.” I let out a long sigh.

  “That was probably the most kindness anyone has ever shown that woman. And you’re a good egg for it.”

  “Darien did that for me…not to that extent, but he cared for me when he found me. I’m just doing what’s right.”

  I could feel Simon take a soft sniff of my hair. “Can you tell me what happened? How you wound up in that hellhole and managed to get out?”

  “It’s boring.” I shrugged.

  “It’s a part of you I don’t know.” He picked me up and walked over to the other bed with me. He lay down next to me and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me into his chest. “Please tell me.”

  I sank into him. “I hate what I was. You don’t want to really know all this, do you?”

  He brought my hand up and kissed my knuckles. “In for a penny, in for a pound. We did just rescue a girl from being used as a human toilet, so…really? How much worse can your story be?”

  “You’re too perfect.” I let my breath rush out, and a moment later I started the story. “My parents were killed in a car accident in Arizona when I was four. I barely remember them anymore. They were junkies and they were high when they crashed. I remember the accident and I remember the officers trying to give my mother Narcan to revive her. It didn’t work.

  “When I looked up the reports years later they had given her six doses and she didn’t move. Coroner said that the primary cause of death was overdose. She only had a broken leg from the accident. Dad had a railing through his chest, so…that was that.

  “And from there, my sister and I bounced all over the foster system in Arizona. I wasn’t really a problem kid, I just didn’t belong in a lot of places. There were a few great families and there were a few terrible families. Mostly they were nice, but no one really took an interest in adopting me. I wasn’t Ms. Personality.

  “My sister bugged out at eighteen. She grabbed her backpack, said ‘see ya later’ and disappeared out the door. Haven’t seen her since.

  “Right about summer of junior year, I got in with a weird crowd. They were really into strange things and would try anything once. Sometimes we all tried it and sometimes just one of us would. My boyfriend, good guy, never treated me poorly, rolled with everything, heard about breath play. That’s not what he called it, but that’s what it was, I eventually learned. He wanted to try it. I was game. What the hell else did I have going on?