Rogue

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Rogue Page 9

by Julia Sykes


  I had left it somewhere in Decadence. Derek had possession of it now.

  I couldn’t even muster up hatred towards him for that. All I felt was disappointment in myself.

  “This isn’t right,” Reed ground out. I had never seen him so tense. It was jarringly different from his usual easygoing nature. “You’re a submissive. You shouldn’t be getting introduced to the lifestyle like this.”

  I could see where this was going. I was in the car with a pissed-off Dom, not my laidback partner.

  “Don’t you dare go all Smith James on me and try to tell me what I should and shouldn’t do,” I hissed. “Just because you’re a Dom and you think I’m a sub, that doesn’t mean you can boss me around.”

  “You are a sub. And I’m not going to boss you around. But that doesn’t mean this situation doesn’t make me mad as hell. I want to protect you, Sharon. And yes,” he cut me off before I could snap at him, “I want to protect you as a submissive, not just as my partner. It’s how I live my life. It’s how I’m wired. That doesn’t mean I’ll interfere with your work, but it does mean I’m going to keep a closer eye on you. I don’t like you being alone with Carter. Especially if he makes you cry.”

  “He didn’t make me cry, god damn it!” I almost shouted at Reed in my frustration. I didn’t want to talk about this. I didn’t want to admit it. “He tried to help me, and I pushed him away. Apparently, I’m ‘dropping’ or some shit. It’s not his fault.”

  I wasn’t sure if I was defending him because I truly believed he wasn’t at fault or because I didn’t want Reed getting involved in my interactions with Derek.

  Reed glanced over at me, appraising. “Fuck,” he muttered.

  Without any reason, he flipped on our warning lights and began cutting through traffic.

  “What the hell are you doing, Miller? Do you want the Kings to know we’re Feds?”

  “We’re far enough away from Decadence that they’re not watching. I’m getting you home.”

  “This is ridiculous! Slow the fuck down!”

  “Not a chance,” he said evenly. “You are dropping.”

  “No. I’m not. Carter was wrong, okay? I’m-”

  “Don’t you dare tell me you’re fine, Sharon.” His tone was soft, threatening. “If you’re fine, then why are you crying?”

  “I’m not-” I stopped short. Something warm and wet was trailing down my cheeks. “Shit.” I hastily wiped the tears away.

  I’m fine, I told myself.

  But if that was true, then why did it feel like a chasm was opening in the center of my chest? It didn’t make any sense. There was no reason for me to be upset. My logic didn’t stop the sob that heaved from my lungs. If anything, the conscious knowledge that this grief was completely irrational made it worse.

  What is happening to me? Calm down, calm down.

  But my inability to stop the tears only made me more upset. I didn’t understand why misery had a tight grip on my heart.

  Reed’s warm hand covered my fist. “We’ll be there soon, Sharon,” he reassured me, but his voice was taut with strain.

  He pulled right up to the curb in front of my building. Before I could even open my door all the way, he was there, offering me his hand for support. I took it without a thought. I did need support. I was so confused, and the damn tears just wouldn’t stop flowing.

  “You can’t park there!” The doorman told Reed as he led me toward the entrance.

  “Yes, I can.” Reed flashed his Federal credentials with the attitude he might have afforded the man if he was shooting him the finger.

  “Reed.” His name was a firm admonishment. There was no need for him to be so rude, and there was certainly no need for him to hustle me to the elevator like my life depended on getting to my apartment as quickly as possible.

  “Sharon.” He mimicked my reprimand, but somehow it was much more menacing coming from him. It dared me to defy him.

  Within minutes, I had unlocked my apartment and Reed had guided me to the threadbare brown corduroy couch. He retrieved my favorite soft blanket from the recliner by the TV and draped it over me.

  I almost told him I was fine again, but one sharp glance from him warned me that wouldn’t be wise.

  Reed headed to the open plan kitchen like he owned the place and opened the fridge to retrieve a bottle of water.

  “What are you doing?” I demanded.

  His black eyes were hard as onyx when he turned back to me. “Getting you hydrated.” His long fingers deftly twisted the cap off the bottle as he sat down beside me. The bastard had the audacity to lift it to my lips, as though I was incapable of doing so myself. “Drink,” he ordered before I could refuse him.

  In truth, my hands were shaking so badly that I would have sloshed water all over myself. That didn’t stop all my muscles from tensing with frustration at my own inexplicable weakness as I accepted what Reed offered. He only allowed me a few small sips before taking the bottle away.

  “Go slowly,” he told me.

  He set the water down on the battered second-hand coffee table and took my hand in his. Pride made me try to jerk away from him, but he held me fast.

  “No.” His voice was gentle, but firm. “You’re going to accept this. It’s called aftercare, and it’s coming far too late. You should have come to me immediately. It was Carter’s responsibility, but if you don’t want him touching you, he should honor that.”

  I sighed heavily. “He did. As soon as I… got over whatever that was, I used a safe word to make him let me go. He wasn’t happy about it, but he did it.”

  Reed’s eyes widened a fraction. “You hit subspace.”

  I shrugged. “That’s what Derek said. It was weird.”

  It was wonderful.

  “He said something about Topspace, too. I don’t really get it.”

  Reed studied my face so intently that I felt as though his gaze penetrated more than skin-deep. “You’re lying again, Sharon. You understand what happened. I know you think you’re protecting yourself somehow by denying this part of yourself. You think you’ll mess up the op if you’re submissive. I can tell you right now, denial is the quickest way you can mess this up. If Carter hit Topspace and you got to subspace during your first impact play experience, you have chemistry. If you fight that, it’ll just frustrate him and drive him away. If you’re serious about getting close to him, you have to accept this part of yourself.”

  “What if I don’t want to?” My voice was barely above a whisper.

  His hand squeezed mine. “Then that’s your choice. You can take point on Reyes and Ortiz, and I can try to befriend Carter. It’s dangerous for you to be alone and vulnerable with him.” His lips thinned. “And I don’t like that your introduction to BDSM is based on deception. It sounds like Carter is a good Dom, even if he is a criminal, but that doesn’t mean he won’t push you. If he is a good Dom, that’s exactly what he’ll do.”

  “I’m going to push you. And you’ll accept what I give you, because you trust me.”

  The echo of his words made me shiver, and not out of fear.

  “You’re so desperate to stay in control, Sharon, but you can’t have that and sub for Carter. If you acknowledge that, you might be able to pull this off. If not, you’re going to destroy any chance you might have of getting close to him.”

  I raked a frustrated hand through my hair. I didn’t want to shift my focus to Reyes and Ortiz. It felt like I was giving up if I handed Carter over to Reed. And I wasn’t a quitter.

  “I can handle myself,” I insisted. Reed fixed me with that hard stare of his, and something inside me gave a little. “And I’ll think about what you said. I won’t freak out on Derek again. I won’t use a safe word.”

  Reed growled. “That’s not what I want to hear, Sharon. If you won’t protect yourself, I’m not going to take my eyes off the two of you.”

  “Damn it, Miller! Someone has to watch the Kings. Carter is my mark.”

  His frown was fierce. “Then pro
mise me you’ll use your safe words if he hurts you or touches you in a way you’re not comfortable with.”

  “Fine!” I tugged out of his grip, and this time he let me. “I promise I’ll be a good girl and do as you say, Sir.” The words dripped with sarcastic venom, but Reed nodded in satisfaction.

  “Good.”

  I let out an exasperated huff. I was coming to like Reed, but right now he was driving me crazy. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” It was a clear dismissal.

  “I’m not leaving until you’ve calmed down,” he told me evenly. “How are you feeling?”

  Despite my annoyance, I couldn’t help being appreciative of his concern. Looking inside myself, I took inventory of my emotions. Yes, there was anger. Anger at Reed, at Derek, and – most of all – at myself. But my heart didn’t feel like it was crumbling anymore.

  “I think I’m okay.” I remembered how terrifying it had been to realize that I couldn’t understand my irrational grief. “What was that?”

  “You dropped.” Reed’s words were soft, his eyes kind.

  “But why was I so upset? I knew it didn’t make any sense, but I couldn’t help it.”

  “You hit the high of subspace, which means you allowed yourself to become completely vulnerable. You put your trust in Carter. When you came out of it, you realized you didn’t trust him at all. That would have been very traumatic for you, Sharon.”

  Yes, I had made the conscious decision to trust him. In the beginning, I had told myself it was for the op, but then Derek’s will had surrounded me. It was heady, and I had forgotten about my mission. All I had been able to think about was him and the sweet sensations he was giving me.

  But why had I trusted him? Had I simply been overcome by lust?

  I think he’s innocent, a traitorous little voice whispered in my head. I had nothing to go on but a gut feeling. And the last few times I had trusted my gut, people had almost ended up dead.

  “What do we know about Carter?” I shifted the subject abruptly. I needed to analyze the intel, to comb through the information we had on him and come to a logical conclusion.

  Reed blinked, but he rolled with my new line of questioning. “I pulled his financials, and they don’t look good.”

  “He has debts?” It would make sense if Derek had been coerced into working with the Kings if they had exploited that. That wouldn’t make him innocent, but at least it would make him more sympathetic to a jury.

  “No.” Reed shook his head. “He’s loaded. The thing is, we have no idea where that money came from. He opened a bank account as soon as he turned eighteen, and he immediately began making large cash deposits. In the first six months, he deposited almost fifteen thousand dollars. We don’t have any records of him holding a job.”

  “What about his family? Do they have money? They might have given it to him.”

  “We couldn’t get a warrant to pull their financials. But Carter started investing almost as soon as he opened his account. And he kept making cash deposits until he joined the Marines in 2003. He seems to have saved and invested almost every penny of his salary. By the time he was honorably discharged, he had more than enough for the down payment for the space to open Decadence and to run the place.”

  “So he works hard and made some good investments,” I allowed. “That doesn’t necessarily suggest criminal activity.”

  “The cash deposits, Sharon. Where did he get that money?”

  “Maye he worked somewhere that paid him under the table. That’s an investigation for the IRS, not the FBI.”

  Reed looked at me almost pityingly. He knew I was searching for excuses.

  Something pricked at the back of my mind. The truth clicked into place with cruel precision.

  “Carpentry. He said carpentry was the family business.” We had found out from Sean Reynolds that the Westies ran the carpenters’ union before we took them down four months ago. “What do we know about Carter’s family, other than financials?”

  Reed’s expression turned considering. “His father spent a short stint in Rikers for dealing heroin in the late eighties, but other than that there aren’t any signs of criminal activity.”

  Heroin. Shit.

  “What are you thinking, Sharon?” Reed prompted.

  I bit my lip. “The Westies controlled the carpenters’ union. And they dealt primarily in heroin.”

  Carter was a fucking Westie. He was a member of the Irish Mob. At least, he had been before joining the Marines. Those cash deposits were drug money. We must have missed him when we rounded up what was left of the gang. And now he had gone over to the Latin Kings.

  “Has he made any cash deposits recently?” I asked, almost desperately.

  “No. But you’re probably right, Sharon. Carter was affiliated with the Westies, and now he’s working with the Kings.” Reed came to the same conclusion I had.

  Reed pulled out his phone. “We should let Kennedy know. He’ll want to move in on Carter. This might be enough to get a warrant for his arrest.”

  I grabbed his wrist before he could finish entering his unlock passcode. “Don’t. We don’t have enough on the Kings yet. If Kennedy ends the op now, they might slip through our fingers. They’ll pull out of Decadence as soon as we arrest Carter.”

  And Derek won’t last one night in prison before they silence him.

  I had to be sure. I couldn’t sacrifice Derek’s life on a hunch, no matter how solid it was.

  “You still think he’s innocent.” Reed was too damn perceptive.

  “No. I don’t.”

  He fixed me with that level black stare of his. “Then you want him to be innocent. You wouldn’t have hit subspace if you didn’t trust him.”

  “I just don’t think one remark about carpentry and getting paid in cash is enough evidence to gamble with Derek’s life. You know the Kings will kill him if we lock him up.” I turned beseeching. “I care enough about his innocence to stop Kennedy from throwing his life away. Please, Reed. Just give me more time. There’s more going on at Decadence than the fact that it’s owned by a man who was probably affiliated with the Westies. The whole point of this op is to take a blow at the Kings, not round up one of the last members of the broken Irish Mob.”

  Reed regarded me in silence for a long moment, and I held my breath. “Okay, Sharon,” he finally allowed. “We’ll wait to tell Kennedy. I’ll put my ass on the line for you because we’re partners. But that means you have to let me have your back when it comes to Carter. You have to let me in.”

  A few days ago, I would have thought Reed was trying to steal the op from me. I would have snapped at him to back off and let me do my job. Now I knew better. He really did care about protecting me. His domineering behavior tonight confirmed that. He refused to allow me to tear myself apart emotionally, and he didn’t let my outer bitch keep him from helping the vulnerable woman inside.

  And that part of me needed him. It needed someone who understood what I was going through. I wasn’t sure if I could make it through this with anyone else at my side. This time, I was the one to reach out for Reed’s hand.

  “Thanks,” I said, almost shyly.

  “Any time.”

  Reed’s pleased smile made me light up inside. I didn’t have to do this alone.

  Chapter 8

  Derek’s hands played through my curls in sure, practiced movements. The occasional sharp tugs as he tightened the braid made my scalp tingle, and by the time he tied it off with the end of the rope that was twined through it, my eyes were closed and my lips were parted.

  “That’s beautiful.” Reed’s casual remark made my eyes snap open.

  When Derek had begun braiding the jute through my hair, we had been alone in the private room. How long had Reed been watching us? He was supposed to be keeping an eye on Reyes and Ortiz, damn it. My glare let him know he wasn’t welcome.

  He ignored my disapproval and moved toward us from where he leaned casually against the wall.

  No. He didn’t just
move. He prowled. I had seen this side of him directed at other women, but he had never turned it on me. Not full force. This wasn’t the Dom who cut through my bullshit to help me when I needed it; this was the arrogant, sensual side of that persona.

  I shrank back against the wooden slats of the severe chair Derek had placed me in while he worked on my hair. Despite my uncomfortable seat, the experience had been incredibly soothing, and I had found myself floating off to a quiet, happy place in my mind.

  Now I snapped back to reality as my discomfort at Reed’s presence ate into that peace.

  “What are you doing in here?” I meant for my voice to come out hard, but it was more than a little breathy.

  Derek’s fist wrapped around my braid, tugging my head back so that I was staring up at him where he stood behind me. The position made it more difficult to draw breath, and my throat was exposed and vulnerable. His forefinger traced the column of my neck, and all my focus honed in on him. I shuddered at the sensation, but I made no move to fight him.

  “I know Reed is your friend. He told me you came here together so he could introduce you to the lifestyle. He asked me about our progress, and we agreed that some rope work is in order. We’re going to do a suspension, and I’ll need his help for that.”

  I tried to slant my eyes to glare at Reed again. Damn him! He had warned me that he wasn’t going to leave me alone with Carter again, and he was making good on his promise. I couldn’t believe he had gone behind my back and introduced himself to Derek. I couldn’t believe he had asked about my progress.

  Derek tugged on my braid again, and my eyes snapped back to his.

  “While we’re in here, Reed is a Dom and you’re a sub. You will not disrespect him.”

  My cheeks burned as my nipples hardened, and I pursed my lips.

  “Tell me you understand that,” Derek demanded.

  “Yes,” I bit out, knowing I didn’t have any other option but to agree. If I wanted to remain with Derek, I had to put up with Reed’s ploy.

  His fingers suddenly curled around my throat. “Is that how you address me, sub?” He didn’t squeeze, but the threat was clear.

 

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