Reading His Submissive

by Brandi Evans

  To the right of the captain’s desk was a black bookshelf filled from top to bottom with binders. Straight ahead was a cork board with pertinent, day-to-day information like schedules, shift changes, and case assignments. Beneath the cork board sat a squat filing cabinet. Pictures of the captain’s family and other keepsakes were aligned neatly across the surface. The mahogany desk where the captain sat, however, was best described as ‘there seems to have been a struggle’.

  “Keep me apprised,” the captain said and set the phone back in its cradle. He scrubbed a palm over his bearded cheek. He appeared shaken but not angry. One point in Carter’s favor. The captain had a short fuse, so if he had learned what Carter had done, he’d likely be half a degree shy of livid. Which begged an important question, what was going on?

  “Sir?” Carter said, pouring an entire question into one word, leaning onto the edge of his seat.

  “It’s bad.” Anguish reflected on the captain’s face as clearly as the reflection in a freshly polished mirror.

  Carter and Maddox exchanged worried glances.

  Carter held his breath.

  “What is it, sir?” Maddox asked after what felt like a lifetime had passed.

  “Katlyn Harris went missing last night, and the Warrior for Women team member assigned to watch her was found beaten to death.”

  The color drained from Maddox’s face. “Is she—” But the end of his sentence cracked and didn’t come out.

  “We don’t know,” the captain said. “The locals are still processing the crime scene, but as of this moment, they haven’t found her body. But given the sheer amount of blood at the scene…” The captain shook his head. “I’m still hoping for the best.”

  But prepping for the worst.

  “I’m assisting in the investigation,” Maddox said, his voice a ghost of its usual snarky self. His words weren’t a request; they were a statement.

  “I’ve already made arrangements with the lead detective,” the captain said. “She’s expecting you. Your plane leaves in an hour.”

  Raven sat in the employee restroom at Restrained Fantasies, her heart hammering against her sternum, and stared at the crinkled paper bag in her hands. The entire sordid trip into her mother’s fleabag apartment was a heart-stumbling blur. She’d never be able to cut it as a criminal.

  Breathe, she repeated to herself for the millionth time. Just breathe.

  Carter hadn’t explicitly told her to avoid detection at her mom’s place, but since she had a sinking suspicion him telling her where the money was hidden wasn’t strictly above board, she decided to play it safe. For his sake more than hers.

  She’d snuck in the back door of the apartment complex, taking care to avoid anyone who might be in the hallways, and when she’d had the bag of cash in hand, she’d all but sprinted from the building. No stopping to count the money. Nothing. Hell, she hadn’t opened the bag to make sure there was money in it. For all she knew, this could be nothing but her mom’s coupon clippings.

  Fingers trembling, she eased the wrinkled edges of the bag open and was greeted to a crumpled wad of hundreds. Not coupons. She dug deeper, trying to keep up with the growing number of digits expanding in her mind. Two stacks of hundreds. Five. Holy shit!

  Raven pressed the bag to her heart. This had to be well over half what her mom had stolen. Combine that with what she’d managed to scrounge up, and Raven had more than enough to get her house. She’d still have to finance more than she’d intended, but she’d have her house!

  So, why’d she feel so hollow?

  She closed her eyes. She’d woken in Carter’s bed practically every morning for nearly two weeks, and no, she wasn’t ready for them to move in together. She meant that—completely—but Carter’s house was the first place she’d ever truly felt at home.

  Fuck.

  She was epically screwed.

  She dug her phone from her pocket and rang him, but the call went straight to voicemail. Where was he? And why wasn’t he calling her back? She prayed he wasn’t in trouble after what he’d done.

  She composed a quick text. Thank you, Carter. I can’t even… Dinner tonight? I’d like the chance to thank you properly. And yes, there will be kinkery involved.

  She hit send and made her way to the locker room. She stored the bag back in her purse and locked everything away in her locker. She’d drop the money in the bank tomorrow. Well, some of it anyway. She wasn’t sure of the best way to explain a deposit of this magnitude, but it was okay. She’d ask Carter when she saw him.

  Blood.

  Everywhere.

  Carter pressed the back of a gloved hand over his mouth and fought down the nausea clawing its way up his esophagus. The captain hadn’t been kidding when he’d said there’d been a lot of blood. It looked as if a demented artist had gone off the deep end and decided the room’s motif needed to be Study in Red. Or was Study in Blood a better descriptor? Study in the Shades of Death? But none of them quite captured the sense of dread saturating the air or the heavy feeling of despair in the pit of his stomach.

  This was more blood than a single body could produce. More than one person had died in this room. It was only a matter of time before they found Katlyn’s—

  No. He couldn’t think like this. It was too soon to jump to conclusions.

  The Grant County Sheriff’s Department CSI team was still processing the scene. Men and women in white coveralls, identical to the ones he and Maddox wore, swarmed about the room like a hive of efficient bees. At least he didn’t have to worry about whether this tiny Oregon town was up to the challenge of a murder investigation.

  Carter crouched and studied a quasi-circular pattern next to a yellow A-frame evidence marker with the number 63. Could be a partial boot print, but the outline was a bit unclear. He hovered a gloved finger over the tiny voids in the marbled linoleum, careful not to touch or smear anything. Longer lines around the edges, smaller triangular shapes along the inside. But where the heel would be was little more than a smeared mess, but this could be a hunting boot, the kind Katlyn’s asshole husband wore.

  The kind he’d had on the last time he’d been hauled into the precinct.

  Carter turned to his partner, about to call the other man over when one of the CSI team members they’d met earlier waved them over. “Gentlemen, the lead detective’s back.”

  He and Maddox followed the younger man. The lead detective had been called away before he and Maddox had arrived, and Maddox hadn’t taken the news well. He’d nearly lit into the bearer of the bad news, and he’d been chomping at the bit for her return.

  His partner still looked about one shade whiter than albino, but Carter was counting it as a win. He’d never seen his partner so out of sorts. Was this what burnout looked like on Detective Westbrook? A lot of detectives didn’t last long working violent cases like theirs. Or was losing Genny the reason Maddox was so out of sorts? Carter didn’t like either possibility.

  After discarding their coveralls, gloves, and booties into an evidence bag, they stepped outside and were greeted by a woman in a pair of Converse high tops, worn jeans, and a Harry Potter T-shirt. Dangling from a chain around her neck was the shield of the Grant County Sheriff’s Department. Despite her unorthodox outfit, she held herself with an authority which dared anyone to say something about her choice of work attire. He liked her already.

  “Sorry for my delay in meeting you, gentleman. My daughter was supposed to be having a birthday sleepover tonight, and I had to get everything squared away.” The woman held her hand toward Carter. “I’m Detective Emily Palmer.”

  Emily.

  Hearing his former love’s name while standing next to a house bathed in blood, another battered woman missing and likely dead, was a sucker-punch to the gut, and his knees buckled. Carter didn’t have time to prepare himself for the onslaught of memories. They were on him before he could force them back into the locked box in the back of his mind where he kept them, and their impact almost doubled him over.
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  Maddox clamped a hand on Carter’s shoulder, an offer of support between brothers. Had Carter gone as pale as his partner?

  While Carter fought to regain his composure, Maddox introduced them before launching into a series of questions which revealed the sheriff’s office had very little information at this point. Not much more than a rough timeline and the fact they’d set up a tip line and a temporary command center at the local police department. They were about as on top of things as a department could be so early in an investigation, not that the information was much of a comfort.

  “The coroner’s already taken possession of the body,” the female detective said, “and so far, cause of death is consistent with blunt-force trauma. Judging by the wound patterns, he’d say it was something long and slender and narrower than a baseball bat.”

  “Like a metal pipe?” Maddox supplied. “The kind used in plumbing.”

  “Possible,” Emily answered. “I’m guessing your person of interest has easy access to pipes?”

  “You could say that,” Maddox said. “He’s a plumber. And he’s hit her with one more than once. The fucker’s broken several of her ribs over the years.”

  Another pang of guilt sliced through Carter’s stomach. If only he’d have convinced Katlyn to leave her asshole husband sooner. If only he’d been able to convince her to testify against him sooner. If only he’d been able to get her away from him sooner. If only he’d been able to assure her safety after he had convinced her.

  So many ifs…

  He’d failed Katlyn like he’d failed Emily. Like he’d failed Genny.

  Guilt made his stomach churn, and he swayed to the left. Through sheer will, he kept his legs locked and his body upright. He was cancer to every woman he’d ever cared for, but he couldn’t allow his failures to let him lose focus. He’d destroyed Emily’s life, and he was well on his way to destroying Genny’s life. But Katlyn was still out there, and if she was still alive, she needed him more than ever. If she were already dead, he’d stop at nothing to bring her justice.

  Nothing.

  One way or the other, he and Maddox would see this through. Nothing else mattered until then. Until they found a body, Katlyn would be his only priority. Everything, everyone else was secondary.

  Even Genny.

  Chapter 11

  Raven stood in the middle of Carter’s home, but the space was as empty as it had been for the past two weeks. She hadn’t spoken a word to her lover since the frantic phone call about the money.

  Since he’d said he loved her.

  On their first official date, he’d told her he didn’t say things he didn’t mean. But if he indeed loved her, where was he?

  Where!

  It was enough to drive her insane.

  Buddy’s excited, pet-me-pet-me-pet-me dance drew no smile. No emotion at all. She was far too numb. For one shining moment, she’d thought her life had been coming together, but now, she didn’t know what to believe or what to feel. She knew Carter had been called away on a case, but she’d only learned that after calling Maddox, fearful Carter’s helping her had gotten him arrested.

  Poor Maddox had sounded about as hollow as a man could, but over their handful of thirty-second conversations, she’d, at least, learned they were out west somewhere on a case—a battered woman they’d helped relocate had gone missing—and he and Carter were okay. But he couldn’t answer her most pressing question.

  Why hadn’t Carter gotten in touch with her?

  She headed toward the bedroom, running her fingertips along the walls, the kitchen counter, the door frames, as if touching Carter’s house could help her touch him, but drywall and granite were poor replacements for the man himself.

  What had happened between them?

  The night Carter had flogged her, everything had seemed so stable and wonderful. She’d offered him her unconditional trust, and he’d held her, safe and sound, in his strong arms. He’d given her a sense of peace she’d never known, and just when she’d thought not everyone in her life was destined to fuck her over—

  Her cell rang. She fumbled as she pulled the device from her back pocket, almost dropping it twice. It wasn’t Carter’s ringtone, so she almost let it be. But maybe, just maybe, he was calling from another number.

  Please be Carter. She repeated as she turned the face up to read the caller ID—and was instantly deflated. Shit. Would he ever call her back?

  Still, she clicked on. Talking to Maddox was about as close as she got to talking to Carter. “Hey,” she said, collapsing on the bed. “How goes the case?”

  “No news.”

  Which was his way of telling her they hadn’t found a body, which meant the woman was still officially considered missing. She couldn’t imagine what this was like for them or for the woman.

  “How is he?” she asked.

  “About as fucked up as I’ve ever seen him.”

  “What?” Every muscle in her body tightened. “Did something happen to him? Did he get hurt?”

  “Not physically, no.”

  “Oh.” Did that mean he was hurting the same way she was? If so, why the fuck wasn’t he making contact?

  Was something she’d done keeping him away?

  The not knowing was enough to make her scream.

  “He’s been camped out on my couch for the past two days, and his moping is driving me nuts. For the life of me, I don’t know why he hasn’t gone home to you.”

  Maddox might as well have stabbed her in the heart. “Y’all are back in Dallas?”

  “For nearly three days.”

  Tears burned down her cheeks. Until this moment, she could almost convince herself he hadn’t been able to call her, that work had kept him too busy. The life of a cop and all. But if they’d been back in town, and he hadn’t contacted her, he was avoiding her. And given the fact she’d spent much of her time away from the club at his place, he was trying hard to avoid her.

  “Raven?” Concern saturated Maddox’s voice.

  “I’m here.” Her voice no longer sounded like her own.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I wish I could…” He sighed. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Punching some sense into your partner would be a good first step.”

  “Consider it done.”

  She paused for a moment before continuing. “How are you?” she asked.

  “Miserable.”

  He sounded it.

  “Would you like to talk about it?” she asked.

  “What I’d really like to do is drink an entire liquor store to make the pain stop for a few hours, but since that’s not really an option, I’d settle for seeing you tomorrow. At the club.”

  He wanted to see her at the club? The request was oddly out of character, but this was Maddox. And he was hurting, too. Misery did love company, after all.

  “I’m on shift tomorrow, but you know I can always make time for you, Maddox.”

  “How about right after your shift’s over? Will that be okay?”

  “Yeah. That’ll work.”

  “Great. I’ll see ya then.”

  Carter was still staring at the ceiling of Maddox’s apartment when his partner returned from the balcony. Carter didn’t bother to sit up or turn toward the other man. He also didn’t bother to ask the identity of the caller or the reason Maddox had made the call outside when he’d taken and made dozens of other calls in Carter’s presence. Carter wasn’t an idiot. He knew precisely who Maddox had called, and he hated how much it pissed him off.

  “How’s Genny?” Carter asked.

  “How about you try calling her and asking her yourself. Or better yet, how about you get your ass off my couch and go to her.”

  Carter screwed his eyes closed. “I can’t.”

  “Bullshit.” The clank of something hitting the countertop accented Maddox’s words. “You can’t leave her hanging like this. If you’re going to break things off, then do it like a fucking man and tell her to her face. She deserves better t
han you just disappearing on her.”

  Break things off.

  The words were a million razor blades slashing through his chest. He didn’t want to break things off with Genny any more than he wanted to cut off his own dick. Hell, it was taking every ounce of willpower he possessed not to go to her and beg her, on hands and knees if he had to, to take him back, but Maddox was right about one thing. She did deserve someone better than him. She deserved a man who didn’t have a track record of fucking up the lives of every woman he’d loved.

  She deserved a man like Maddox.

  A throw pillow slammed him square in the face. “Get off my damn couch, Burkes, and go to her. She’s the best goddamn thing that’s ever happened to you, and you fucking know it. Grovel if you have to, just get her back before it’s too late.”

  “I can’t.” As responses went, it was lame, but it was the only excuse he could come up with.

  He’d broken the law for Genny. Their relationship had barely begun, and he’d fucking violated the law for her. How much further would he go for her?

  The question terrified him. The last time he’d sidestepped regulations had been for Emily, and she’d died. He’d almost died. The rules were there for a reason, and if he was willing to push them aside for a lover, it was time to push his lover aside. He just wished it didn’t hurt so goddamn much.

  “You can’t.” Maddox shot the words at him with venom. “You are such a fucking coward. You know that? Just a few weeks ago, you were all, I can’t get her out of my head. She’s front and center in my mind. I feel like I’m about to lose my mind. And today, you’re what? Over her?”

  Carter kicked his legs over the side of the couch and pushed to his feet, readying for the inevitable fight. “That’s not fair, Maddox. I—”

  “Don’t fucking talk to me about fair. You have the woman you love right here. All you have to do is go to her, but you’re too much of a coward. I’d give anything to be able to hold the woman I love.”