by Jane Henry
"I said… I'm done," she said shrilly. "It's over between us!"
Matteo inhaled sharply.
"Fine," he bit off. "Then you can get your own fucking way home."
He stalked out of the room towards the employee area, and the crowd of people that had gathered parted in the face of his fury.
God.
"Don't stop now, Hillary," Master Blake whispered in her ear. "Finish it!"
Hillary swallowed and turned towards Slay.
"Hey, um, Slay, do you want to…" she offered, laying a hand on his shoulder.
Slay stood up, dislodging her hand.
"You know, Hillary, I suddenly remembered why I don't do relationships. Take care, honey," he said. And then he patted her awkwardly on the shoulder and walked away, in the opposite direction from the way Matteo had gone.
Hillary stood there for a moment, biting her lip. She knew her cheeks were flaming. Wow. The whole point was to make her seem defenseless, friendless, and ripe for whatever plot Marauder had in mind. She just hadn't expected the humiliation to feel quite so real.
"Jesus, he left!" someone whispered. "Matteo actually left her. I just saw him drive off!"
Furious whispers erupted.
"I can't believe he actually left!"
"Shit, have you ever seen him so pissed?"
"I would die if my dom ever looked at me that way!"
And finally…
"I guess the blonde is fair game now, huh?"
Hillary took a deep breath. Mission accomplished.
She turned and pretended to flee in the direction of the ladies' room.
* * *
A moment later, Inspector Mantle was holding open the door to Master Blake's back room for her.
"You did really well, honey," he said, guiding her to a chair behind Blake's desk.
"And Dom just called to say his Matteo impersonation is as slick as ever," Blake interjected from the other side of the room, as he slid his cell phone back into his pocket. "Matteo went into the basement, Dom took his keys, left out the back door, and got in Matt's car. He's on his way to get your sister from her friend's house."
"Great," Hillary said softly. "I heard a bunch of people talking about it before I even left the bar. That identical-twin thing comes in handy, I guess."
Blake nodded, then looked at her sympathetically. "Hell of a scene, huh?"
"Yeah," Hillary agreed. "Hit me harder than I expected. I think Slay and I are going to have words about his little improvisation back there!"
"Pretty sure Matt did the talking with his fists," Inspector Mantle told her. He rested his hip on the desk and shook his head admiringly. "Alex Slater is one crazy son of a bitch. I don't know whether I want to shake his hand or hit him again."
"Um, that's because you weren't the one getting kissed, sir," Hillary told him. "I definitely wanna hit him."
Blake chuckled and nodded. "True. If it had been my wife getting kissed, I would've laid him out flat. But shit, the way Matteo decked him sold it. The crowd bought it, hook, line, and sinker. I almost believed it was real, and I knew better!"
Hillary smiled politely, but she didn't find it funny. As far as she was concerned, it had all been a little too real.
"All right, honey," Blake said, as Mantle stood up and brushed his hands on the legs of his pants. "We're gonna go and do our part now, and see if we can't nail that crazy mother—uh… that crazy stalker to the wall. Matt should be up here in a few minutes. In the meantime, you stay here and keep this door locked. You gonna be okay?"
Hillary gave them both a sincere smile this time. "Yeah, I'll be okay."
Mantle lifted his chin, Blake winked, and they both slid out the door, taking care to lock it behind them.
Hillary sat back in the chair, exhausted. She took the comm device out of her ear and tossed it on the desk.
She was so not cut out for the spy business.
Yeah, the whole thing had been staged, but it had hit a little too close to home. She needed to talk to Matteo and demand some answers.
She snorted, imagining how Matteo would react to that. Okay, scratch that. She'd state her needs in a respectful way.
She smiled to herself.
Movement on one of the video feeds caught her attention. Matteo and Slay, entering what looked like a storage room, where heavy-duty shelving held stacks of boxes and storage bins. Without thinking, Hillary reached out, snagged Master Blake's mouse and clicked on the feed, engaging the audio.
"What the fuck was that about, Slay?" Matteo demanded, leaning back against a shelf, his arms folded across his chest.
"Oh, come on, Matt," Slay said. He stood across from Matt, so that only his profile was visible, but from the congested sound of his voice, it was clear Matteo's fists had done a number on his nose. "I was just messing with you! I'll apologize to her, okay?"
Hillary nodded. Darn right, he would.
"Damn right you will," Matteo muttered. "But I wanna know what the hell made you do it in the first place! You were supposed to flirt with her, dickhead. You weren't supposed to get all up in her face, and you sure as fuck weren't supposed to kiss her!"
Slay snorted. "Well, you weren't supposed to set me up with a chick and end up taking her home yourself! Pretty shitty thing for a friend to do. So I figured I'd get my own back. Didn't expect you to lay into me! Shit. You being outraged on her behalf is cute and all, but since when do you care if someone gives a chick you've been banging a one-second, no-tongue kiss?"
Some chick you've been banging…
Hillary's blood ran cold.
"Shut the fuck up," Matteo growled. "It's not like that."
"I mean, Christ," Slay continued, as though Matt hadn't spoken. "A month ago, you were setting me up with this girl. 'Slay, I've got a girl who's like a sister, she needs a dom.' Then all of a sudden…"
"I. Said. Shut. The. Fuck. Up," Matteo said, taking a step away from the shelf, his voice flat and cold. "You don't fucking talk about Hillary that way."
"What do you mean I can't… Oh. Oh, shit, man!" Slay's voice held dawning wonder, and he stood straighter. "You're gone for her! You're in love! Jesus! Why didn't you say so, fucker? I never would've touched her if you'd told me she was yours!"
Hillary held her breath, then let it out with a shudder when she saw Matteo's face. He looked utterly horrified.
"That's not it, asshole! She's not mine. I mean, yeah, she's my sub, okay? But she's not… we're not… I haven't even had sex with her. I can't!"
"You… can't?" Slay repeated. "Bro, you talking about a physical problem?"
Under any other circumstances, Hillary would've giggled at the outrage on Matt's face.
"Fuck you! Hell, no! I can barely fucking control myself when she's around!" Matteo said.
Hillary felt a momentary burst of pleasure. I knew it! But that pleasure fled as soon as Matteo opened his mouth again.
"It's just… Hillary is young. She's sweet. She's got this misplaced gratitude thing going on because I helped her out at Black Box last spring. So, I promised Heidi I'd help keep an eye on Hillary, and… I'm not gonna take advantage, okay?"
Slay blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair.
"Yeah, man, I get that. Better than you know."
Unfortunately, so did Hillary.
"But," Slay continued. "I still say…"
Hillary couldn't listen anymore. With a trembling hand, she reached out and clicked the 'minimize' icon.
So… that was what it meant when he said he wouldn't sleep with her because he cared about her. God, what an idiot she'd been. He cared about her, as a friend. He loved her, but like a sister. And yeah, he was attracted to her, but he was fighting it because, for Heidi's sake, he didn't want to treat her like all the… how had he put it last night? Like all the pieces of tail he'd slept with over the years.
Well. That's something, anyway.
Suddenly the room was too close, the air too hot. Her stomach clenched and rolled in humiliation
, and tears burned behind her eyes. Blake had said Matt would be on his way upstairs to wait with her until they'd secured the dance floor for the next part of their plan, but she could not see him right now. She needed time alone to steel herself against the hurt, to put on a brave face… to figure out how to end things with Matteo, for once and for all.
She grabbed her purse from the corner where she and Matteo had thrown their stuff when they'd arrived a few hours ago. She wanted nothing more than to go home and crawl into bed, and to hell with the guys and their precious plan… But she couldn't. She remembered the way Slay had hurt Alice, the determination on Inspector Mantle's face… They'd all risked something to make this happen tonight, and she couldn't just duck out. She'd never be able to live with herself.
She took a deep breath and thought quickly.
Okay, so she'd make her way down to the dance floor now, before anyone could stop her. She'd stand there and have a drink, in full view of the cameras, and not talk to anyone. How dangerous could that be, really?
But first she had to get downstairs.
Steeling her spine, she eased the door to Blake's office open. The coast was clear. She walked carefully down the center of the carpeted hallway, pausing in front of each open doorway, until she was almost at the back staircase that led to the rear exit.
Almost there!
Voices from the stairway startled her. Crap! Matteo would be coming up those very stairs! Without thinking, she scuttled back down the hallway and ducked into one of the empty employee changing rooms, closing the door softly behind her.
God, but that had been close.
"Well, well, what have we here?"
The mocking voice behind her had her spinning around and falling back against the door with a squeak, but it was only Deb, the bartender. She was leaning over the Formica vanity in the back of the room, reapplying a coat of bright red lipstick, and she regarded Hillary's reflection with a raised eyebrow.
Hillary closed her eyes and let her heartbeat settle. "Sorry! You startled me!" Hillary said.
Deb smirked. "Uh… Last I checked this was the employee change room, and you don't work here, so…"
Hillary nodded. "Okay, right. Fair point. I guess I startled you first. I, uh…" Hillary glanced back at the closed door, and then at Deb. "I… was heading downstairs, but I have someone I don't want to run into out there."
Deb fluffed her brown hair. "Uh huh. Running from the masses because you pissed off two of the most popular dominants in the club tonight?"
"Uh… kinda, yeah," Hillary agreed. She was almost tempted to spill the whole sorry story to Deb, but she had to find a way out of here first.
Deb smiled. "Well, no judgment here, sister. In fact, I was looking for you a couple of minutes ago! Wanted to give you a high-five and buy you a drink!"
"Uh… you did?" Hillary asked, distractedly. "I thought you had a thing for Matteo."
Deb shrugged. "Meh. He's hot, but he's kind of a pussy from what I've heard. Nothing too rough, doesn't like to get his hands dirty. Hard to respect a guy with too many rules, you know?"
Hillary frowned, but before she could refute this, Deb spoke again.
"Besides, you know Matteo's not the kind of guy who'd ever be satisfied with just one woman, right? Some guys are just like that. Heck, my own dominant is like that. And it's fine if you're cool with it, but I'm sensing that you're not."
Hillary's heart sank and she bit her lip. "That would be… accurate."
Deb spun around.
"Figured. So, you need to escape? Just so happens, I know a way. A secret way," she said, fluttering her fingertips excitedly.
Hillary looked at her skeptically. "You do? I thought you'd only worked here a few months?"
Deb waved this away with a laugh. "Yeah, but I'm motivated. Blake has this stupid policy about employees staying out of the private rooms during shift, you know? 'We don't want to encourage fraternization with the members,'" she said, in pitch-perfect imitation of Blake's deep voice. She rolled her eyes. "So he sits there behind his millions of cameras and thinks he's got it all covered."
Something about this struck Hillary as odd, but Deb grabbed her arm and gave her a wink.
"He should never underestimate the willpower of a girl who wants to meet her dominant when she's supposed to be on break," Deb told her.
Hillary smiled.
Deb opened the door to a narrow closet on one side of the vanity, and Hillary stepped closer to peer inside.
"Um… Are we going to Narnia?" Hillary asked.
"Ha! Better!" Deb replied. "The attic." Deb moved aside a couple of garment bags to expose… a hidden staircase leading upstairs.
"Follow me," she said, and she led the way up the narrow stairs.
Hillary hesitated. Maybe the hallway was clear by now, and she could get down the stairs on her own…
Then she remembered the stupid cameras. If Matt or Blake or anyone saw her heading downstairs before the place was secured, they'd be after her in a heartbeat, full of worry and indignation, forcing her to explain herself.
And was pretty sure she would rather do anything than humiliate herself that way.
"Come on, Hillary," Deb called. "Are you coming?"
Hillary squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and followed Deb up the dark stairs.
"See, in the olden days, this staircase led to the servants' rooms on the upper floor. There are a dozen rooms up here now that members can rent out when they need privacy, but there's also a staircase that leads directly to the basement! So, as long as Blake hasn't rented out the room to a member, we can… yes!"
Deb pushed the door at the top of the stairs open and stepped out into the room. "No members up here!" she giggled, holding the door open for Hillary to squeeze past her.
The room was hot and dimly lit, the curtains closed so that only the faintest hint of streetlight shone through to illuminate the room. Hillary groped blindly along the wall to her right, trying to find a light switch, when a sudden noise from the bed in center of the room made her jump.
"Deb, I thought you said the room was empty!" Hillary whispered furiously, her heart pounding.
"No, Hillary. I said there were no members up here," Deb said, not troubling to keep her voice low. "My Master isn't a member of The Club 'cause he doesn't like to play by their stupid rules."
In the weak light, Hillary saw a figure stand up from the bed and turn on a lamp.
"Hillary knows all about the rules I follow. Don't you Hillary?" Marauder asked.
Hillary screamed, and the world went black.
Chapter Ten
Matteo had so much adrenaline pumping through him he would've been disappointed if Marauder didn't show up for the party. Between Slay's fucking antics kissing Hillary, words with Slay, and the whole fake break-up scene which left him feeling like shit, he was ready to knock some heads together. But he didn't want Hillary to read his fury and frustration. He took a deep breath and calmed himself before he entered the room where she was supposed to be waiting for him. He pushed open the door, ready to be 'on' for her, to calm her and remind her how things would go down next. Ready to take down the asshole Marauder.
But she was not in the room. He looked wildly around for a minute and he almost knocked into Slay as he froze at the entrance of the room.
"Where the fuck is she?" Slay ground out. "She's supposed to be here first and then we're supposed to get a read on her on the dance floor."
No shit.
Her ear piece was on the table. Matteo knew it was hers as each was marked with a tiny color on the inside to identify them, and hers was pink. He'd even joked with her as he placed it in her ear earlier that evening, 'pink for Tink'. No one else had a pink mark.
And no one else had left their ear piece on the fucking table in the middle of the fucking sting. He looked quickly to where he and Hillary had put their belongings earlier and noticed her bag was gone. He breathed a bit easier. If she'd been abducted, likely her pursuer wou
ldn't have thought to take her bag.
So she'd left.
Matteo was pissed at her. He already told her she was getting the spanking of her life tonight and so help him, would she ever. She wouldn't sit for a week when he was done with her. How could she leave at a time like this?
He stepped into the room with Slay and shut the door.
"Her ear piece," he said to Slay. "And her bag is gone." He touched his ear and waited until he heard the responding clicks from Mantle and Blake.
"Where the hell is Hillary?" Matteo said. "Her ear piece is in the room, her bag gone, and she's not fucking here."
"Did she go to the dance floor already?" Blake asked, and Matteo spun to look at the cameras. "Third row center," Blake said.
But as Matteo's eyes went to the screen that showed the dance floor, it caught the image just to the right of the dance floor—the monitor showcasing the storage room where he and Slay had just been. Matteo groaned as he turned to Slay.
"The fucking camera! Damn it. She was in here. All she had to do was click on the audio and she'd have heard the whole fucking conversation we just had."
"Yeah? What does that have to do with anything?"
Matteo wanted to shake him, but instead he just shook his head as Blake's voice came back on his ear piece.
"You see her?"
He was scanning the camera feeds but he knew, with a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach, he would not see her. No sign of the little dress, her blonde hair, or her figure on the screen. Where the fuck was she? Snagging his phone out of his pocket, he jabbed at the screen and called her, but wasn't at all surprised when it went to her voice mail.
"No," he said. "I think she left."
"You think she left! What the fuck! Well, go after her. Damn it, Matteo!"
"No shit, but I don't know where she went!"
Footsteps pounded in the hallway and Slay and Matteo met each other's eyes for one quick second before the door to the room burst open and Alice came running in.
"Matteo! Slay!" she said, her eyes wide and panicked. Matteo felt cold fear creep along his limbs as he turned to face her. In her hand she held Hillary's phone.
"She was in the employees' changing room," Alice whispered. "I saw her go in, with Deb. And she dropped her phone. I didn't want to intrude so I gave them a few minutes and then followed behind them to give it to her. Knocked on the door and there was no answer, which was weird, so I went in, and… they were gone. Just like they vanished. It was… I don't even know. She's gone, Matteo."