Captive Heart (Club Risque Book 6)

by Poppy Flynn

She nodded again. This was shaping up to be as difficult as pulling teeth.

  "Were you upstairs or downstairs?"

  "Downstairs."

  Micah sighed. "Did you find it was all just too much for you?"

  A shake this time, but her denial had Micah straightening in his seat and pulling back to look at her properly. "Did something happen down there?" he asked with a sharpness that made him wince internally. He didn't want to unnerve her even more.

  "Yes." It was the tiniest whisper of sound and, at first, Micah wasn't sure he'd heard her properly.

  "Melody?" he urged insistently. "If there was an incident, it's imperative that you give me the details, sweetheart. I need you to tell me what happened."

  For the first time, Micah was getting the sense that there was more to this than Melody freaking out because of an anxiety attack.

  "I had come out of the locker rooms with Laurel," she began haltingly. "And I stopped to take a look around. The platforms caught my attention and I ended up getting separated from Laurel."

  "You're doing great, hon, just tell me the rest in your own time," Micah encouraged.

  "I realised I'd lost sight of Laurel and I suddenly felt a little overwhelmed."

  Micah breathed a sigh of relief, maybe that's all there was to it after all. He didn't want to search his own feelings too deeply about why this incident with Melody had unnerved him so much, but it had affected him on a far deeper level than he'd expected. His relief didn't last long, though, and his blood ran cold at Melody next words.

  "I felt like someone was staring at me and, at first, I thought I was being paranoid, but then I turned around just as this guy was about to grab me."

  What—"

  He didn't get to finish. Now that Melody had warmed up, she was on a roll, and the rest of the story tumbled out in a rapid tangle of words, "I turned, and I ran for the door, so I could get up here. When I dared to look, he was following me, and I was desperate for the locks to disengage so I could get to safety, but he put his hand in the door before I could shut it and I had to slam it against his fingers to make him move them."

  "Melody," Micah began reasonably. "Are you sure it wasn't just another member following you upstairs to the club?"

  Melody turned and stared at him as if he'd grown two heads, then suddenly, she sprang to her feet, fighting to get out from the folds of the blanket as panic sent flustered fingers to ice her blood and steal her calm.

  "He's a member?" she shrieked. "Oh my God! I've got to get out of here. He'll come. He'll find me! I need to run before he tries to take me back."

  Her distinctive hair whirled around her face as she twisted agitatedly from side to side, checking the room as if he might already be there, checking the door as if he might come through it. She clutched the blanket to her chest like it was some sort of lifeline and balanced on the balls of her feet, ready to take flight, her breathing already coming in short, anxious pants.

  Micah jumped up in alarm, taking her face in both of his hands. "Melody, calm down!" he ordered. "There's no one here. The door is locked. Nobody can get to you. You know that!"

  Her eyes clung to his, and he watched as rational comprehension overcame the spike of irrational fear. He wanted to wait for her to calm a little before he pushed her any more. He'd been halfway to believing that Melody had let her nightmares get the better of her, that she'd just panicked at the sight of another member following her through the security door to the upstairs section of the club, but something she had said had shards of icy fear slithering through his own veins.

  "What did you mean when you said he'd try to take you back?"

  "That man!" Melody insisted, grabbing his shirt once again. "He's a friend of V's. He is one of the people he used to invite around to…" she trailed off, unable to say the words, but Micah knew she meant one of the fucktards who had abused her and colluded in her incarceration.

  "He recognised me, and he tried to grab me, and then he chased me," she persisted adamantly, before realisation dawned, her face losing what little colour it had.

  She whispered starkly, "He knows where I am!"

  The next two hours whirled by in a blur of activity. Micah called Trinity and instructed her to bring Master X, Master Storer, and Fluff back to his office. In her befuddled state, Melody couldn't even work out who he was referring to until Dr. Xavier, Laurel, and the detective in the wheelchair, whom she'd spoken to a few weeks ago, all dutifully trooped through the door.

  Micah insisted that she get checked out by the doctor, even though she protested the necessity, while he filled in Detective Storer, and the pair of them spoke to Laurel. Not that the other girl was able to shed much light on the situation. She'd reached the bar and realised Melody was no longer with her, so she had backtracked to try to find her. She had been aware of the commotion but had been too far away to realise that it even involved Melody, never mind whoever else.

  Micah was obviously annoyed with both Laurel and Trinity, although he stopped short of saying anything outright, but it was clear in his clipped manner and stiff bearing as he spoke to them.

  In the end, Melody felt obliged to step in. At the end of the day, the other two girls had only been doing what she had asked of them, and she was an adult, responsible and accountable for her own actions.

  "Micah, this was all my fault. I'm sorry," she apologised, approaching him after Xavier had given her the all clear.

  "Damn right it was!" he retorted. "But you didn't manage to get down there without help!"

  He swung his eyes to Trinity. "What were you thinking? The pair of you." He encompassed Laurel in that last query.

  Laurel glowered back at him, all rebellious defiance. "We didn't do anything wrong, Micah!" she defended all three of them. "So cool your beans!"

  "Technically, maybe not, but—" He gave them both a hard look.

  "No buts!" Melody interrupted. "No one pushed me into this; it's what I wanted. If anything, it was the other way around and Trinity made me wait, in case I changed my mind."

  "Well, since none of you saw fit to mention it to me, I'm guessing you knew I wouldn't approve."

  "This wasn't about whether or not you approved, Micah," she argued, standing right in front of him, frowning, flanked on either side by Trinity and Fluff, just as he was flanked by Master X and Master Storer, all three of the men oozing their dominance. Melody refused to be overawed, despite the protective levels of testosterone pouring off all of them. "It was about me, my wants and my needs. I know you're concerned about my emotional wellbeing, and Dr. Xavier about my health, and Detective Storer about my protection, but you can't keep me wrapped up in cotton wool. There are physical things I need more than that!"

  Xavier laughed and patted Micah on the shoulder. "Well, I think that proves she's just fine as far as her health is concerned." He chuckled. "She's obviously over the shock, so I'm off back to the dungeon. I've left my new sub cooling for far too long." He winked at Fluff, and Melody was aware of a distinct bond between the two. Though not together, they clearly shared some kind of history.

  "I'll come with you," said Fluff, glancing at the time. "Connor will be here, and I don't want him worrying about where I am." All the recent antagonism seeped from her as she acknowledged her Dom and Master.

  Xavier crooked his elbow toward Fluff, in a gentlemanly gesture, and she immediately took his arm. You coming, Andy?" Xavier enquired of the detective as they turned to leave.

  "Nah, I'm going to sit here and watch the show," Detective Storer said with a leer. "Want to put a bet on who wins?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows while Micah glowered at him. "And on a more serious note, I still need to ask Melody a few questions."

  Xavier laughed and shook his head, raising a hand in salute as he opened the door for Laurel then gestured her through with a courtly flourish.

  "What needs?" Micah asked bluntly, refusing to be distracted by what was going on around them.

  Melody huffed out a breath and folded her arms in fro
nt of her protectively.

  "I needed a spanking," she mumbled, staring down at the sturdy industrial grade carpet as her face flushed.

  "And why couldn't you come to me about that?" Micah asked broodingly, his shoulders hunched, and his lips pressed together in a thin line.

  "Because I maybe wanted something more as well, and you made it quite clear that you were opposed." No way she was admitting to anything more than that. He could put two and two together himself.

  "I never said any such thing!" He scowled, folding his powerful arms over his muscled chest and stretching the fabric of his shirt across his broad shoulders in a way that made Melody's mouth water. The involuntary reaction made her feel cranky.

  "You didn't have to!" she exclaimed. "It was obvious by the way you kept your distance after the last time." She didn't mean it to sound accusatory, but Melody knew it had come out that way. God, she wished they didn't have an audience for this conversation. It was embarrassing enough as it was!

  "What? So, you thought you'd just swan off into the club and pick up some stranger who has no idea what you've been through?" Micah retorted, obviously having no such problem with anyone else listening.

  Melody flinched at the criticism but gave back as good as she got. "Of course not. Trinity gave me some names and told Laurel to introduce me," she retorted with a huff.

  "Who?" Micah demanded, swinging his angry gaze toward Trinity, who was eyeing his overly protective stance with a keen interest.

  "Master Flynn and Master Cameron," Trinity told him with deceptive innocence.

  Micah's face darkened, and he pursed his lips as he looked back at her. "And what 'more' did you want from them?" he asked, raking over Melody's appearance with flinty eyes.

  "I'm not discussing that right now," Melody retorted balling her hands into fists at her sides. "It isn't relevant."

  "I'll decide if it's relevant or not," Micah countered, but Melody pressed her lips tight together and the two of them came to a standoff.

  "Ahem!" Andy Storer cleared his throat deliberately from next to them. "As entertaining as all of this is, what is relevant are the details of what happened downstairs and what we are going to do about it," he declared, taking the wind out of each of their sails.

  Melody spent Lord knows how long going over everything she could remember with the detective, any little thing she could think of, while Trinity went back out to oversee the club and make some discrete enquiries, and Micah hovered around her like a brooding, over protective guardian.

  What did he look like? Could she provide an accurate description? How tall was he? Were there any distinctive markings, scars or tattoos that might be used to distinguish him by? What was he wearing, did she notice anyone who might have been accompanying him, either male or female? Did he appear familiar with the surroundings? Did she get the impression he had been there before? Where, exactly, in the club had the incident taken place? The questions seemed to go on forever.

  She got a brief reprieve when Detective Storer turned his attention on Micah, wanting to know if there was any possibility of the perp being caught on one of the security cameras. But as soon as Micah agreed to have all the feeds checked, his concentration settled back on Melody and he resumed his questioning again.

  It went on and on until her head hurt, and she could no longer think straight. It was only then that the detective let up, albeit with the promise to return the following day to see if anything else had shaken down in her memory, although she didn't believe anything could possibly have been overlooked.

  Melody was feeling wrung out and antsy when he finally took his leave. This evening had not panned out at all how she had imagined, and now she was carrying even more guilt at going to the club behind Micah's back. Not that she needed his permission for anything, but that was still the way she felt, and it irritated her all the more, because he could not have been clearer, in his withdrawal, that he didn't want the responsibility of spanking her.

  By the time Micah and Trinity had finished closing the club up for the night, Melody had showered in the tiny staff washroom and changed into a pair of comfortable, fuzzy pyjamas which were about as alluring as a tea cosy. She was done with trying to look sexy; that had gotten her precisely nowhere, and now she just felt like a fool for even bothering, the memory of Micah's critical gaze, when he'd thought she wasn't aware, adding to her feelings of utter deflation. What the hell was she doing with her life?

  Jesus Christ, that was a laugh, wasn't it? What damn life? She didn't have one. She never had. Not one she could call her own, where she followed her own path and made her own decisions. Good or bad, it didn't matter. It only mattered that they were hers. Well, just look where that had gotten her, Melody thought dejectedly.

  Micah had ordered her to stay put in the staff room, and that was fine with her. She had no desire to go looking for any more trouble, and that seemed to be the only thing she was capable of attracting.

  When she curled up on the couch, Melody gave in to the heaviness of her eyes. She'd just rest them a minute. She was so tempted to fold out the sofa bed that Micah used in here and climb into it, but no doubt he'd take that entirely the wrong way.

  Everything between them suddenly seemed to be out of sorts. She was lusting after him, and he was avoiding her. Cause and effect, she supposed that said it all.

  The only thing left for her to do was keep her distance until she could find a place of her own and a way of supporting herself, and so allow Micah the opportunity to regain his privacy and his comfort. They were strangers forced to practically live in each other's pockets after all, and he had somehow become responsible for her.

  Everything had finally caught up with her and it was suddenly all too much, and now she was feeling despondent and deflated.

  And what the heck was with that? Luck had brought her to a place of safety where decent people had helped and supported her out of the goodness of their hearts and she, a complete stranger, who could have brought all manner of problems to their door, was sitting here feeling sorry for herself.

  Jeez, she needed to get a grip. There was literally no comparison in the way she lived now—as basic and transitory as it was—with what she had managed to escape from, so where the hell did she get off feeling sorry for herself, just because some dude didn't find her attractive enough to want to be intimate with her.

  Well, you know what, I just need to grow a pair and get over myself!

  Micah was an absolute diamond of a man and Melody didn't want anything she did to cause him regret. He'd been too damn good to her for that and he deserved better in return. Perhaps she could talk to Trinity about flat sitting while she was out of town, although she didn't know how that would work when Trinity was back, and the thought of being on her own didn't exactly appeal after what had happened tonight. But she couldn't get over the fact that she needed to give Micah his life back. He deserved better than being her begrudging babysitter.

  Melody wiped away the tears she realised she was crying with the pad of her palm, angry with herself for being so damn pitiful. What the hell was wrong with her? She'd been forced to endure things a hundred times worse than getting her feelings a little dented, for crying out loud. She needed to start counting her blessings instead of being so damned pathetic!

  Of course, it was just her luck that Micah chose the exact moment when she was wallowing in her own self-pity to retire for the night. Yeah, sod's flippin' law!

  Melody tried to extract herself as unobtrusively as she could without drawing any attention to herself, but she should have known better. Micah was far too astute to let anything go.

  "Hey, are you all right, sweetheart?" he asked, noticing her red rimmed eyes and blotchy cheeks. "The events of the day have finally caught up with you, I guess? Why don't I make you a nice relaxing cup of herbal tea, to settle you for the night?"

  Melody was feeling unaccountably contrary and, somehow, his sympathy and consideration just made her feel even more pissy. "I'm just
dandy, thanks, and I don't want any damn tea!" she snapped, jumping up from the sofa and flicking the blanket that she'd been wrapped in sharply before she started folding it with abrupt, jerky movements.

  Micah eyed her with endless patience, which only served to ratchet up her already strung out nerves even tighter.

  "How about some hot milk instead?" he asked kindly. Except 'kind' wasn't what she wanted from him.

  "No!" she bit out sharply. "I do not want any hot flippin' milk, either!" She punctuated her words by throwing down the folded blanket onto the sofa and only just stopped short of stamping her foot.

  Micah just gazed at her quietly with those gorgeous, melted chocolate eyes with one eyebrow cocked.

  Jesus, what was wrong with her? After everything he'd done for her, she was behaving like a spoiled child having a tantrum.

  "It sounds like someone's cruising for a spanking," he said with deceptive calm, standing there all relaxed with his thumbs hooked casually through his belt loops.

  "Yeah? Well, there's no one here to give me one, is there?" Melody retorted shortly, whirling around and flouncing toward the door, cringing on the inside even as the catty words kept pouring out of her mouth. Her self-preservation instinct was intact, at least, and it was telling her to get out of there before she ruined things between them completely.

  Chapter 12

  She was halfway to the boudoir where she was still sleeping, when Micah caught her from behind, swung her around, hefted his shoulder against her midriff, and sauntered the rest of the way to her room, with Melody dangling none too elegantly over his shoulder. He paused only briefly to flip on the lights which were recessed into the top frame of the four-poster bed and then deftly flipped her across his knee, holding her securely with one hand while he shoved her baggy, elasticated pyjama pants down with the other.

  "Luckily, I know damn well when a naughty little girl is begging for a spanking," he growled as he peppered her ass with a swift flurry of warm up taps before he got down to the serious business of applying the swats she so desperately needed.