by Linzi Basset
“Stop drooling over the fucking thing and see if it contains―yes!” Ethan shouted when Max pressed the mainspring housing at the back of the grip to produce a mini flash drive.
“Good eye, Bruce. We all looked over the damn thing,” Keon rumbled as he glanced around. “Should we bother searching for anything else?”
“Max, you and Lance get to the chopper and see what you can find on that drive. The onboard computer is linked to our server, so you can download the information for Richard to scan through as well. We need to know where to start searching for them. Keon and I are going to search the room where he lived as Michael. Alex, you, and Ethan scour the barn and surroundings.” Rhone’s deep voice filtered back to them as he ascended the stairs. His sharp gaze homed in on the chopped off rope dangling from the rafters. He looked around and pointed to the floor. “Blood spatter. Someone was strung up here.”
“At a guess, they must’ve realized Michael Flores was onto them and came for him,” Bruce mused as he picked up a small round object he found against the wall. He held it up. “It’s Jack’s lucky charm. I gave each of you one when the two of you came to rescue us in Iraq, remember Rhone? A token of my appreciation for saving my life.”
Rhone dug his hand into his pants’ pocket and recovered a similar shining onyx stone. “Yeah, I still carry mine with me every day. He dropped it to tell us he’d been abducted. He wouldn’t have left it behind for any other reason.” He headed to the outside. “See if there’s any sign of where they disappeared to.”
Bruce, Alex, and Ethan tracked the blood spatter to the outside and from there the footsteps they found.
“Someone dragged him from the barn toward that open spot between the trees. From these marks, two of them forced someone in that direction too.” Alex pointed to the scuff marks on the loose gravel. He was an excellent tracker and read signs like a roadmap. “A lightweight person.”
“Like Jordan,” Ethan said. They followed the tracks until they reached the foliage covering the area between the trees. “Must’ve landed a chopper there.”
“I agree.” Alex looked around. “There’s nothing further here. Let’s get back.”
They met Keon and Rhone in front of the barn as they came back from the house, carrying a briefcase and a large folder.
“None of the workers noticed anything untoward when they arrived this morning. No one has been inside the barn as it’s not used for farming purposes. That old GMC truck is apparently the one Jack used to get around as Michael.” Rhone shook his head. “Fucking brilliant disguise.” He held up the folder. “We found this in a hidden panel in the room he used. “It’s more than enough to prove that Reece Talbot and Jaden Bower are the two top leaders of The Sixth Order.”
“What about the third one? According to what Emily Sanchez said, there was another person involved.” Bruce noticed the tightening of Rhone’s lips. It was so slight, if he hadn’t been looking for a sign, he would’ve missed it.
“I’m still working on that.”
“You do realize we can’t move on the other two until we have that one in custody as well. It would do no good if he goes into hiding and just continues where they left off once they’re out of the way.”
“I’m aware of that, Bruce. Let’s get back to Precision Secure. We need to put all the intel together and come up with an ironclad plan to ensure no one in that goddamned organization gets away. In the meantime, be your normal self toward Reece and Jaden. We can’t afford for them to know we’re on to them.”
“What guarantee do we have that Jack and Jordan are still alive?” Alex asked quietly.
“We don’t.” Rhone stroked his chin in thought. “But I sure as hell will continue to believe that Jack has found a way to keep the two of them alive until we get there.”
“And where is there?” Ethan asked darkly.
“They refer to it as the Sauna House, The Sixth Order’s new underground operation hub in the Michaux State Forest in Pennsylvania. It’s an old bomb shelter that was closed centuries ago.” Keon tapped the folder in Rhone’s hand. “It’s all in there. The blueprints of the shelter are on the flash drive.”
“I suppose Reece used his grandfather’s connections in the military to obtain permission to use it,” Bruce said as they began walking back to the chopper.
“Probably. Max can dig around to see if there has been a private sale of the property. Although as it’s in a State Forest, I can’t see the possibility of that,” Rhone said.
“Jack is a fucking genius!” Max gushed as they got into the chopper. “I don’t know where he found all the intel but he’s got everything on those fuckers.” Max glanced over his shoulder. “Sorry, Lance.”
“Nothing to apologize for, mate. They are fuckers … and soon to be dead ones,” Lance sneered through thin lips. No one disputed his statement. Everyone knew an altercation with the two leaders of The Sixth Order would end in death.
The soft whir of the blades sounded ominous in the background as Rhone said, “Time to strategize and set a plan in action. This is one time we can’t afford to slip up. It has to be airtight before we go in to rescue Jack and Jordan.”
“It’s Monday and time for the L.A. office’s feedback session with me. I’d be willing to bet they’ll be too eager to talk to me. If, for no other reason than to boast to themselves that they’ve got one of our own under their mercy while we’re oblivious to it.” Lance’s voice carried the anger and hatred that he made no effort to hide.
“I’ve asked Richard to pull all their big cases off the server. Be sure to hammer them for information on their progress. I’m willing to bet they haven’t done a stitch of fucking work since we left them behind in L.A.,” Max interjected.
“I’ll study all the stats I have of the past couple of months. It’ll offer me great pleasure to put them on the spot. They won’t be too boastful once I’m done with them.” Lance noticed Bruce’s sharp glance. “Don’t worry, mate. I won’t give anything away but I sure as hell will let them feel the sting of my power as Operation’s Director.”
“Good for you, Lance. Just remember, I’m here if you need to talk,” Bruce said in a gentle tone.
“Thanks, mate.”
The rest of the trip was spent in silence. Everyone was already strategizing. The shock of discovery was at the foremost in their minds. It was incomprehensible that someone they had known almost all their lives, who they loved and respected, had turned into a power-hungry monster.
Chapter Four
“Master Goliath, there’s a woman at reception demanding to see you.”
Bruce turned at the sound of the surly sub. His lips twitched as he noticed her pouting lips. Since he was the only remaining unattached Senior Master, the subs at the club had become rather possessive of him.
“She claims to be your submissive.”
The penny dropped. He couldn’t stay the smile that curved his lips upward.
“It seems you have a problem with that?” Bruce said in a lazy drawl. He leaned his elbows on the bar behind him and looked at her with raised eyebrows.
“Of course, I do.” Her hands fluttered in the air. “We all do. All the Senior Masters have been swiped up one by one. We had all hoped you … well, you know,” she lowered her eyes demurely.
“I’m afraid I don’t, my pet.”
“We hoped you would choose one of us as your sub. You’ve always paid such wonderful attention to us. Not just during a scene.” She smiled shyly. “I think most of us are halfway in love with you.”
Bruce straightened. He planted a brief kiss on her surprised lips. “You’re sweet, Candice, and I’m flattered.” His hands curled around her shoulders. “Never fear, my pet, I’m not in an exclusive relationship nor am I in love.” He winked as he turned away. “I’ll be sure to pay the same attention to all of you as before.”
His tread was confident as he strode toward reception. He’d had a full afternoon with one session after the other. That and the tense morning of str
ategizing since their return from Jack’s farm, enticed Bruce to drop in at the club. A willing sub was just what he needed to take off the edge. His footsteps slowed as he reached the wide arch leading into the vast entrance hall of the club.
The white light sconces on the walls offered a soft glow, encasing the large open space with an ethereal ambiance. His eyes trailed to the two wine-red leather sofas and a couple of chairs at the waiting area to his right. He smiled as he noticed how Morgan Adler, once again, sat perched on a chair with one foot tucked in under her and the other stiletto bearing toe tapping on the plush carpet to the tune of a Guns and Roses song playing in the background.
Alex’s favorite. He must be in charge of the sound system tonight.
Her eyes were trained on a beautiful oil painting of a naked couple entwined in a sensual embrace. She sat with her back ramrod straight and her bottom lip between her teeth. She was obviously tense and ill at ease.
But she looks like an angel dressed to seduce.
Try as he might, he couldn’t prevent the twitch of his cock as his eyes took in the seductive picture she presented. It unleashed burgeoning lust to wrap snugly around the nerve endings in his loins, resulting in ripples of heat to spike through his body. His eyes swept over her curvaceous form with male appreciation. The delicate silk of an emerald green mini dress that molded to her full breasts was held up by the frailest of spaghetti straps. Her long naked legs ended in a pair of strappy silver stilettos. His groin tightened as her rose-colored tongue brushed her lips with an unconscious sensuous lick, leaving it coated with an inviting, glistening film.
Down Junior. This woman needs to be treated gently and with patience.
Bruce heaved in a deep breath as he silently approached her. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this affected by a woman, especially one who had done nothing to seduce or entice him with feminine wiles. He was level headed enough to realize she had sought him out for a specific reason. She could’ve warned him about the contract hit and left. Offering to become his bodyguard was a guise. He aimed to find out what her true intentions were—something he was looking forward to with eager anticipation. He studied her as he stopped a few steps from the chair.
What are you up to, squirt? I hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for. No matter your reasons, this ain’t going to be an easy ride.
He aimed to use this opportunity to help heal her from the emotional demons he’d detected swirling deep inside her the previous night. A ripple of unease trailed over his spine. Forcing her into a Dom/sub relationship was a risk, especially with her history, but he aimed to use it to help her understand the difference between abuse and consent. Once she accepted she had the power to control what happened to her in their relationship, he was certain the true woman she’d buried during her ordeal would come to the surface once more.
He’d seen flashes of her during their sessions, even the night before at his house. She was spirited and had a strong personality. All she needed was a little guidance.
“You summoned?”
Morgan started. Her head snapped around to lock those crystal clear green eyes on him. Her lips were circled in an enticing, ‘Oh,” of surprise. Her shoulders squared as she detected the amused glimmer in his gaze.
“I don’t believe the person who’d dare to summon you had been born yet,” she said as she stood up.
Bruce was impressed with her spunk. She was tall, probably five feet eight but even with the ridiculous heels, the top of her head only reached his chin. She still managed to appear haughty as she gazed at him over her small straight nose with her head tilted back.
“Sometimes the mightiest beast can be controlled by a gentle hand and a loving heart,” he crooned. His gaze darkened as her cheeks flushed with a becoming rosy color. “So?”
Morgan shifted her weight. It was evident that his powerful presence unsettled her. He didn’t back down but continued to stare at her impassively. In here, he was the Dominant, not the gentle giant she believed she had managed to manipulate with half-truths and forced smiles during their sessions. The sooner she realized it, the better.
“Well,” she spread her hands, “I’m here. As per your command.”
“Hmm.” His gaze swiftly did a tour up and down her body to linger on her nipples that poked like pencil erasers against the silk dress—evidence of the effect his presence had on her. A polished silver gleam glowed in his eyes when he lifted them to pierce through her defenses. “Just to be clear, I expect you to willingly become my full-time, live-in submissive.” He lifted his hands and traced his finger softly around the tense line of her jaw. “Do you know what that entails?”
“I’m not daft, Doctor Rickett,” she snapped.
He breached the distance between them to invade her personal space. He could feel the pressure of her heaving breasts brush against his chest, left bare by the leather vest he wore.
“In here you’ll call me Master Goliath, Sir or … my Master.”
Morgan tipped back her head. “Goliath? Why am I not surprised?” Her nose tilted an inch higher. “Any specific preference?” she snipped.
Bruce felt the punch of her sassy reply in the tingle of heat filling his cock.
Brazen little squirt, isn’t she?
“Not particularly, but the day will come that you use the correct one without being coaxed,” he said with a knowing smile.
“Don’t hold your breath,” she mumbled. Her gasp was cut short as he wrapped his hand loosely around her throat, not threateningly, just gently reminding her who was in charge.
Bruce felt her body tremble against him but she didn’t lower her eyes. He traced her bottom lip with his thumb, impressed with her confident demeanor, no matter that trepidation swirled like shades of autumn on a clear lake in her eyes.
“Always remember, squirt, for every action of yours, there will be a reaction from me.” He leaned closer. “Don’t ask for punishment by being cheeky because believe me, you’d rather avoid it.”
“Nothing you do could be worse than …” Her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth. She whimpered when he pressed his finger deeper into its pulpy fullness to release the hold her pearly whites had on it.
“In here, you do what pleases me, my pet. Abusing this pretty pucker of yours is my pleasure. Remember that.” His fingers tightened ever so slightly around her throat. She went onto her toes. “The difference between this situation and before, is that here you have the control. You’ve been in this club before and Joanne told me you’d been to other BDSM clubs since, therefore I know you’re not a novice to the dynamic of a Dom/sub scene or relationship.”
“I didn’t go there to find … to have sex. I just needed … I thought I’d be able to connect with someone.”
“And did you?”
“No.” Morgan lowered her eyes. She’d be damned if she’d ever admit that she’d been unable to find anyone who could diminish the memory of his gorgeous physique, his broad boyish smile, or his piercing gray eyes from her mind. That was why she’d sought him out. She had to know if what she’d felt during their sessions in the past was real or a desperately hurting and lost woman latching onto a compassionate psychologist. She’d been fighting the listlessness inside her for too long. She missed painting but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t produce the same passion and feeling into her work as before. Her fiery nature needed an outlet and she instinctively knew Bruce Rickett was the conduit to spark to life what she’d been too scared or unable to do on her own. Her mind inadvertently drifted to the day when her then dreary fate had changed to a somewhat passable existence as a sex slave.
“You’re a feisty one but I will break you, slut, make no mistake about that.”
“You will never break me. You might tie me down and gorge your despicable lust on my body but know this, you motherfucking son of a bitch, my mind will always fight you.”
“I like a challenge and you just sealed your fate. I’m going to make you beg and th
en I’m going to laugh as I watch your cunt squirt from pleasure as my men take their turn.”
The other women had given in to the lure of drugs to cope with the daily sexual abuse but Morgan had refused. She needed her wits about her, always looking for an opportunity to escape. It was a month into her slavery when the Sheikh who had originally bought her had tied her to a bed on a raised dais in a barren room. To date, she’d been left alone because she continued to fight every man who showed interest in her. Now, she almost wished she’d indulged in the realm of narcotic unawareness. She didn’t fight the men who took their turns, rather she shut off and painted the view from her loft over the ocean in her mind. When the fourth man mounted her amid Sheikh Abdullah’s urging, a commotion at the door caused Morgan’s eyes to flutter open.
She stared in amazement as a lean figure dressed in a flowing white thwab, a black-and-white checkered keffiyeh on his head, and a pair of dark sunglasses burst through the door, aiming two pistols at a sputtering Sheikh Abdullah. He was surrounded by four burly men wearing similar outfits.
“Get your dirty ass off her, you fucker,” the man growled in a low voice. The man on top of Morgan fell over his own feet as he tried to shuffle around the men barring the doorway. “Don’t move, Sheikh. Not if you want to live to see the sunrise in the morning.”
“You have no right! She’s my property. I can do with her as I wish.”
“Ah, but she isn’t yours, is she?”
Morgan scrambled to her feet as soon as one of the men untied her. She hastily put on her discarded tunic before she moved to stand behind the armed man.
“What do you mean?” Abdullah sneered.
“This slave was meant for Sheikh Juhayman.” He snorted as Abdullah went pale. “You didn’t honestly think he’d allow you to get away with this, did you? Stealing this beauty with the red hair he’d been coveting for months and replacing her with another? The Sheikh is highly upset, Abdullah. I suggest you raid your coffers to compensate him for the loss over the past month and for how you abused his property.”