Edge of the Enforcer

Home > Romance > Edge of the Enforcer > Page 17
Edge of the Enforcer Page 17

by Cherise Sinclair

The authoritative demand of a Dom sent a shiver up her spine. She swallowed. Do it now. Here. If she left with him and tried to argue—face it, he could make her change her mind in a heartbeat. “Because I’m sad.”

  The words kept sticking in her throat. Get it out now. “Because I’m not going to see you again.”

  His fingers tightened on her face. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  DESPITE FEELING SCRAPED raw all day, deVries had looked forward to seeing his little Texan. Her sense of humor, her caring, her warmth—being around her was like stepping into springtime. But what was this shit? He let go of her. As short-tempered as he was today, he needed to be careful. Patient.

  Her face was pale, eyes haunted and wet with tears. She really was upset.

  Gentling his voice, he rested his hands palm-down on the desk. “Okay, babe. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “There are reasons why we’re…breaking up.” Actual grief shadowed her face. “Several, actually. Only there’s one difficulty we can’t get past. It’s impossible.”

  “Go on.” Impossible rarely was.

  “You’re a s-sadist,” she whispered.

  “You knew that when we met. I’d never go beyond what you wanted. Not if you’re honest with me.” Unlike the way she’d been last night. One more thing they’d talk about.

  “Yesterday, you stopped long before you were ready to. B-before you were satisfied.” Her raised chin defied him to deny her statement. Her quivering lower lip tugged at his heart.

  Hell…this he hadn’t been prepared for. Perceptive, wasn’t she? And…hurting. She must feel as if she’d failed him. He softened his voice. “Satisfaction isn’t everything.”

  “It is to me—when it comes to you. I’m not comfortable if you’re suffering. If you need something I can’t provide.” She reached out to touch him. Drew back.

  Fucking submissive who wanted to give him…everything. Dammit, this wasn’t her choice to make. “We’re good. I’m good.”

  “You’re not. I can see it.”

  He growled. Wasn’t as if he couldn’t function without handing out heavy pain. S/M was a craving, not an addiction. Wasn’t like going hungry… More like giving up pizza or steak. Sucked to cut back, but other things were more important. “I fucking care for you.” The words sounded ugly. Harsh. Not how he’d figured on telling her.

  The tears in her eyes overflowed. “And I care for you.”

  He saw her lips firm. His gut registered the loss even before she whispered, “I won’t let you live handicapped because of me. I can’t. We’re done, Zander. Please… If you care, honor that.”

  What the fuck? He straightened, staring at her. Just like that? It was fun. We’re done?

  If she’d really cared, she’d stick. She wouldn’t walk away for such a fucked-up reason. Anger flared, burning apart his shaky control. “Might have known. A relationship takes work. Aren’t many women willing to put out the effort.”

  “Zander…”

  “It’s deVries.” He leaned forward into her face, gritting out the words. “You got your honor, Tex. Hope it helps you sleep good in your empty bed.”

  The ashes inside him settled over everything, turning his world gray.

  “I’m so—”

  He moved toward the exit and stopped at the sight of fucking-richer-than-God Ethan Worthington. Had she arranged to meet the other Dom there?

  Even as he told himself he was being an ass, deVries glanced over his shoulder at Lindsey. Hand over her mouth, tears rolling down her cheeks. Right. His wife had done silent crying; hadn’t meant shit. Tamara had dumped him for a rich man who’d keep her in style without any effort on her part.

  He glanced at Worthington, then Lindsey. “Looks like you won’t have an empty bed for long.”

  He took little pleasure in slamming the door behind him.

  On the street, the cold air slapped him in the face. Brought him up short, playing over his asshole words. Fuck. He suppressed the need to head back in and apologize. Fix things. Lindsey wasn’t Tamara—she wouldn’t play him that way.

  She’d just dump him and cry. Would give up without even a fight. “We’re done.”

  Not fair. Not right.

  Now what? He stopped, feeling the frustration growing inside him, needing an outlet more than before.

  He couldn’t do a scene. His control was shot.

  A bar fight, though… He studied the rowdy tavern down the street. Full of city boys. No challenge there. But he could visit some of the places by the docks.

  He glanced back at Dark Haven—a haven no longer. Big brown eyes, trembling mouth, sweet words. She’d gutted him worse than a KA-BAR.

  Yeah, he’d make the rounds of the dock bars. See if he couldn’t get his outsides battered up enough to disguise the pain inside.

  * * * *

  The slamming of Dark Haven’s door shattered Lindsey’s control. He wasn’t supposed to be mad at her. He should have been relieved.

  “I can’t say I’ve seen deVries upset before,” Sir Ethan said. He walked around the desk and leaned his hip on the edge. Even with her vision blurry, she saw the concern in his clear blue eyes. He handed her a tissue from the box beside the computer. “What happened?”

  Tears flooded her eyes faster than she could wipe them away. “H-he… I-I…” She made herself stop. Zander—DeVries—wouldn’t want to be talked about.

  Why should she care? He’d been cruel…but only because she’d upset him. God, she’d really hurt him. Her lip trembled. He’d cared for her…more than she’d realized.

  I changed my mind—come back.

  No. She couldn’t waver. This was for the best. It was. She pulled in a shuddering breath, wanting to hit her hands on the desk, to throw things, to scream to heaven. Why—why is life so unfair? Sobs boiled up inside her, impossible to subdue.

  When Sir Ethan put his arm around her, she buried her face against his chest and cried.

  With a low rumble of approval, he wrapped her closer, holding her firmly. As he rubbed her shoulder, he murmured soft words she couldn’t hear. Zander had done the same before, his hands rougher, his voice harsher, and God, she wanted him.

  Can’t have him.

  After a minute, Lindsey regained control and struggled to pull away.

  Sir Ethan’s arms tightened for a moment before he let her go.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  His aristocratic expression was gentle as he used a tissue to clean her face. “You are very welcome, sweetheart. You can have my shoulder anytime. Or anything else you need.”

  The warmth in his gaze said he meant the invitation exactly as it sounded.

  The Dom was a walking, talking definition of gorgeous. Skilled, powerful, caring. She should want him.

  And yet, her heart was set on Zander. Why had she ever wanted to be in love? It hurt—hurt far more than any whip a sadist could wield.

  * * * *

  Sitting at her small patio table the next day, Lindsey heard a knock on the duplex’s front door. A salesman? Probably not on a Sunday. Likely Rona and Abby. She didn’t care. Talking wasn’t what she had in mind.

  Silence.

  Good. She dumped more light rum from the bottle into her glass and studied the color. Paler than it was dark meant more alcohol than Coke. Excellent proportions.

  Something rattled, and Lindsey jerked around to see the wooden side gate swing open.

  Abby and Rona walked through as if they owned the place.

  Jeez. “I thought this state had rules about rentals. Like giving twenty-four hours’ notice before using a key.” She glared at her landlady.

  Abby smiled. “Oh, it does. Sadly there aren’t any laws governing the behavior of BFFs. Sorry.”

  Shit, that was hard to answer. She scowled at Rona. “What’s your excuse for trespassing?”

  “Same one. BFF—only I’m BFF number one since I’m older.” Rona sank down into a chair. “God. Joint Commission was here for the hospital survey. I
think my feet are three sizes bigger.”

  “Poor baby.” Abby checked the label on the bottle. “Rum sounds good. Have you got more Coke, and are you going to share?”

  “Y’all are damn stubborn.” Lindsey considered getting up. Unhappily the door looked awfully far away. “Glasses are in the kitchen.”

  Abby grinned. “I know where they are.”

  “So you’re here because…” Lindsey prompted.

  Abby reappeared with the glasses as Rona answered, “Because we were worried about you.”

  “But…” She hadn’t called them, and Zander—deVries—sure wouldn’t. “How…”

  “Sir Ethan talked with Xavier last night. Xavier talked with Simon,” Abby said. “Afterward, Simon talked with Zander.”

  Uh-oh.

  “Zander was…less than polite, I gathered. So Simon shipped him to Montana this morning to work on a security system.” Rona chortled under her breath as she poured a strong drink. “A blizzard is supposed to hit Montana tonight.”

  “Serves him right.” Abby mixed herself a drink and topped off Lindsey’s with Coke. “Maybe his penis will freeze off and drop into the snow alongside his testicles.”

  Oh God, they were blaming deVries for everything. Guilt pushed the alcohol aside. “He didn’t do anything. I…I was the one who broke up with him.”

  “Because of what we’d talked about? Him being a sadist?” Rona asked softly.

  Lindsey nodded miserably and gulped more of her drink.

  “Sir Ethan said Zander was rude.” Abby set her glass down with a thump.

  “Zander was furious with me.” A sob hitched Lindsey’s voice as she remembered his shocked expression. “God, I hurt him so bad. He didn’t w-want to break up. Acted as if it was something we could fix. But it wouldn’t work.” She looked at her friends. “It wouldn’t.”

  “A relationship doesn’t change your basic personality,” Rona remarked carefully. “Did he think it would?”

  “He only said he could handle it.” Lindsey pulled in a breath. “Except when he was relaxed, his face was all tight. He wasn’t the same. He looked like he was being rubbed raw from the inside out.”

  Abby leaned back in her chair. “So he was angry and blasted you verbally.”

  “Kind of.” She bit her lip. “First he said I wasn’t willing to put any effort into a relationship. And that—I could see his point. But when he saw Sir Ethan, he made a crack about me not having an empty bed. As if we broke up because I wanted Ethan. I don’t get it.”

  “Huh.” Abby glanced at Rona. “Does Zander have a money hang-up or something?”

  “Money?” Lindsey asked. “His ex left him for a rich guy. Still, what’s that got to do with Ethan?”

  Rona blinked. “Zander was married before? I hadn’t heard that.”

  “Yes. And Xavier told me Ethan’s really wealthy,” Abby said. “He doesn’t act like a snob, so most people don’t even know.”

  “DeVries thinks I dumped him to get Sir Ethan’s money?” Insult set up an acid burn in her chest. “Did I tell you that was why he was so mean after the first night? He figured I’d divorced my ex and taken him for all he had.” Oh Zander.

  She’d bet he didn’t really think that—had spewed something out in the heat of the moment.

  “He’s got a skewed idea of women, sounds like,” Rona said. “No wonder he never gets serious. But he treated you differently.”

  “I thought he did.” Lindsey frowned and blurted out, “I heard he was using me to make his boyfriend jealous.”

  Rona and Abby stared and broke into laughter.

  Lindsey glared. “Thanks, y’all.” With an effort, she shoved back from the table, walked into the kitchen—with only an occasional misstep—and fetched her second cure for heartsickness—a plateful of brownies with extra fudge frosting.

  “Oh hey, let me help you with that.” Abby rose to take the goodies. “Look at all that chocolate. You really are feeling crappy, aren’t you?” She helped herself to one and moaned.

  Rona motioned with a brownie at Lindsey. “Nice attempt at a diversion, sweetie. Now tell us why you’d think Zander has a boyfriend?”

  “I’m kinda thinking it’s not my secret. And actually, I don’t believe it.” Last night, she’d decided HurtMe hadn’t been totally honest. Zander had wanted a relationship with her—he hadn’t even had a hissy fit when she’d called it going steady.

  Regrettably HurtMe was right about one thing—he could offer Zander more than Lindsey. HurtMe loved pain.

  Abby’s gaze had unfocused, and Lindsey could almost hear the professor’s mind buzzing. “Zander wouldn’t have told you that. Someone else did. Maybe someone who wasn’t being totally truthful.”

  Lindsey straightened. “I—”

  Rona clinked her glass against Abby’s. “You’re such a sociologist. Good call.”

  “Hey, I’ve got a degree in psychology, you know. However, I didn’t figure it out until about 4:00 a.m.” Lindsey stared at the table.

  Rona laid her hand over Lindsey’s. “That’s because you’re involved with him. We look at our lovers with our hearts, not our minds.”

  “However, Lindsey, the man is going to return—if he doesn’t freeze. Maybe you should talk with him. Try to work something out.”

  “I was fixin’ to do that, only I think it would hurt us both. Nothing gets past the fact that his need and my tolerance don’t match. And never will.”

  The two women stayed silent, visibly upset and feeling for her. Lindsey gave them a twisted smile. They’d come to take care of her despite her attempt to ignore them. So wonderfully caring. As she picked up her drink, her shirtsleeve inched back to reveal the white scar running up her forearm. The one she’d gotten when she’d escaped from Ricks.

  As Abby poured more rum into Rona’s glass, Lindsey had to wonder. Would her friends be here if they knew she was wanted by the law?

  A second later, she realized they were both looking at her in concern. She blinked hard, realizing…yes, they’d be here. “I love you guys.”

  Rona patted her shoulder. “And we love you too. Which is why we’re going to go in, watch some schmaltzy movie, eat popcorn, and talk trash about asshole men.”

  When Lindsey burst into tears, Abby just snickered and hauled her out of the chair.

  Chapter Fourteen

  On Saturday, DeVries stalked into Dark Haven in a pisser of a mood. Knowing how much he hated cold weather, Simon had deliberately sent him to install a security system in the iciest fucking part of the country. It had taken an entire week to finish the job. Even the daytime temperatures had been below zero.

  “You need some time to cool off,” Simon had said.

  DeVries growled. He was gonna gut his boss.

  In the entry, he saw Dixon, not Lindsey, behind the desk. Probably for the best. DeVries held out his membership card. Behind him, several other members entered, forming a quiet line.

  Dixon took the card by the corner in a blatant show of reluctance, swiped it through the machine, and shoved it back.

  Ignoring the insolence, deVries pocketed the card and walked away.

  “Have a nice night,” Dixon said and added under his breath, “You bastard.”

  Hell. He couldn’t ignore the deliberate rudeness. He grabbed the young man’s chain harness and yanked him over the desk.

  The submissive yelped.

  With one hand, deVries lifted him by the harness, holding him up like a puppy being punished. “You get to wear a gag in your insolent mouth until your time at reception is done.”

  He dropped the white-faced submissive to the ground hard enough to hear his bones rattle. “Am I clear?”

  Dixon went to his knees. “Yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir.”

  DeVries took a ball-gag from his toy bag and tossed it at the sub. Still pissed off, he glanced at the line of members waiting to enter. Three submissives hit their knees. Two Doms nodded approval. One guffawed.

  From behind deVries, Xav
ier said, “Is there a problem here?”

  DeVries turned.

  In his usual black jeans, vest, boots, and white shirt, Xavier studied Dixon, who made an I’m-screwed-so-bad whimper.

  Mood lightened slightly, deVries answered Xavier. “Nah, no problem.” He nudged Dixon with his boot. “Get back to work, boy. You have people waiting.”

  The submissive scrambled up. Fastening the gag straps behind his head, he hurried behind the desk.

  Xavier watched him for a moment and motioned toward the main clubroom. As deVries fell into step, Xavier said, “You look a bit battered.”

  DeVries shrugged. The bar fight last week had been fairly satisfying, well worth the bruises, which were mostly healed now. “I’m good.”

  “How was Montana?”

  “Fucking cold.” His irritation returned. “I’m going to murder Demakis and toss his body in the gutter.”

  “Simon overreacted.” Xavier’s smile faded, and he gave deVries a level look. “As did you. The girl only did what she thought was right.” Lindsey must have shared with Abby. The Dark Haven community gossiped worse than people on a naval base.

  Stopping at a table, DeVries put a foot on a chair and rested his forearms on his thigh. “I know. Took a while to realize it, though.” Maybe he wouldn’t kill Simon after all. Being halfway across the country had kept deVries from showing up on Lindsey’s doorstep and yelling at her…more than he already had. Fuck, he was a dumbass sometimes. “Given she lied about her identity, I figured she’d lied about our relationship too. But—she’s a crap liar.”

  “She is.” Xavier leaned a hip against the table. “She’s hurting, Zander.”

  Lindsey hurting. At the sudden stab deep in his chest, deVries looked down, half expecting to see a blade jammed between his ribs. He drew in a measured breath. “She has some righteous concerns. I am a sadist; she’s not a masochist.”

  Ever since returning from the merc job, his sleep had been filled with gory, violent nightmares. Sure, he could cope, but he also knew a good S/M session would relieve the feeling. It was why he’d come to Dark Haven this evening. “I can live without, but—”

  “But Lindsey sees your need. A submissive’s greatest desire is to fulfill your wants. If she can’t, she’ll feel like a failure.”

 

‹ Prev