by Julia Sykes
A horrible burning sensation took root deep in my chest. I tried to pretend it didn’t exist, but it persisted over the next four days, growing hotter as I watched them together.
A sense of impotent rage took hold of me as Miller neatly inserted himself into Katie’s life. Every time I tried to get close to her, she pushed me away. But she let him in, allowed him to protect her. I didn’t understand how everything was going so terribly wrong. I shared a bond with my Sparrow that had been built on well over a year of trust and friendship.
So why was she looking to Miller for comfort instead of me? Was it because he was Topping her in the way I hadn’t? I’d been afraid to push her, but it seemed she’d been ready for me to dominate her. If I’d trusted my instincts from the very beginning, I would be the one watching over her now, not him.
As I contemplated their growing closeness, the pencil I was holding snapped in my fist. I shook my head hard to clear it and tried to focus on my work. I was supposed to be tracking down the Mentor, and—more importantly—take out the fucker who was leaving the sick notes for Katie.
We’d identified that it was Claude Parnell; the same man who’d terrorized her on her first day with the Bureau. She’d finally managed to arrest him less than a month ago, but the CPD had lost the evidence they needed to prosecute him. Now, he was free to terrorize Katie, and I couldn’t tie him to the notes in any concrete way. The bastard was still out there, watching her.
My fist tightened, and the splintered pencil dug into my palm. But the tiny flare of pain barely registered before a high, feminine scream cut through the office. I instantly recognized that the sound wasn’t simply one of pain; it held a decidedly erotic edge, roughened by lust. I’d heard that kind of cry often enough when frequenting Dusk.
But it had no place in the FBI field office.
What the fuck?
I pushed out of my chair and hurried toward the sound. A distorted, masculine rumbling reached my ears as I approached, but I couldn’t make out the words. The voice was coming from the direction of Katie’s desk. I quickened my pace, jogging to close the last of the distance between us.
Katie stood by her desk with her eyes closed tightly, her pale face pinched with fear. Miller’s fingers flew across her keyboard, but the computer screen was black.
“What’s going on?” I demanded.
Katie’s full lips pressed to a thin line, and her eyes remained closed. I recognized the signs: she was trying to compartmentalize whatever was happening. I’d seen it before, but never like this. Her muscles were so tense that she practically vibrated with the effort of repressing whatever was frightening her.
“There are cameras in Katie’s apartment,” Miller snarled, distracting me from her. “Parnell just sent a clip of her in her bedroom, and now the fucking computer’s crashed.”
Cameras in her apartment? But that would mean the sound of pleasure/pain that had resounded through the field office came from her…
“I heard screaming,” I insisted, trying to avoid my dawning realization.
“There was a voiceover,” Reed misdirected. “The same as before: ‘Come and find me.’ We have to go back to her apartment and—”
“Go back?” I asked sharply, putting the pieces together. “As in, you were just there?”
“I drove Katie to work this morning.” Miller tried to pretend he didn’t know what I was implying.
My stomach twisted as it all clicked into place. He’d been at her apartment. He’d made her scream like that. And that meant he’d introduced her to BDSM. He’d stolen her from me.
Had he fucked her? I couldn’t bear the thought.
He dared to touch her, settling his dirty hand on her shoulder. “Katie?”
She jolted away from him with a little yelp, her eyes flying wide. He reached for her again with a frown, and she backed away.
Her soft body bumped up against mine as she put distance between them. She whirled to face me, her muscles coiled to address a threat. I caught her upper arms to steady her.
She jerked free of my hold. I allowed her to pull away, even though my instincts told me to wrap my arms around her and hold her close. I wouldn’t make the same mistake Miller had. I wouldn’t impose myself on her when she was so skittish.
“I need some air,” she choked out. Miller extended a hand toward her again. She fixed him with a glare. “Alone.”
She doesn’t want him. Not really.
At least he had the decency to let her stride away from him.
She might want distance between them, but she needed me right now. This was my chance. She was realizing that he couldn’t protect her. He wasn’t right for her. I’d remind her that I’d always been there for her, that I always would be.
I hurried after her, sliding between the closing elevator doors just in time.
She glowered at me as we began our slow descent in the cramped space. “What part of alone don’t you understand?”
So she didn’t want me near her, either? Couldn’t she see that I was nothing like him? That I was better for her?
Jealous anger flared, and I forgot all the soothing words I’d meant to say. “You slept with him.”
She paled further and pressed a hand to her forehead as though to drive off a headache. “I can’t do this right now, Dex.”
Her refusal to talk about it was tantamount to a confession. He had fucked her. He’d dominated her and taken her in the way I’d fantasized about for years.
“All this time, I resisted,” the pained words tumbled out of me. “I thought you wouldn’t understand.”
“What are you talking about?” she snapped, her fiery temper rising to protect her from her fear.
The reminder of her vulnerability helped center me. She didn’t need my jealousy right now. If I calmly explained the situation, she would finally understand. It wasn’t her fault that Miller had seduced her. I’d never confessed my feelings. I’d waited too long, and now I’d paid dearly for that error in judgment.
That ended now.
I reached out and gently grasped her wrist, pulling her hand away from her forehead. She blinked up at me, surprised by my sudden turn in mood.
“I’m talking about you, Katie,” my fervor roughened my tone. “I’m talking about the fucked up shit we see every day. You’re always so disgusted by sexual violence. I thought you would never understand what I wanted from you.”
She started to shake her head, her coppery hair swaying around her face. “No. Dex—”
But the time for allowing her to evade me was over. I boldly gripped her chin between my thumb and forefinger, stilling her sign of denial. “Yes,” I cut over her steadily. “You’re going to listen to me, Sparrow. All this time, I haven’t touched you because I thought you couldn’t handle it. I thought if I went slow enough, you would realize you’re submissive. And now he’s come in and—”
“Dex!” she gasped out. “Stop. Please, stop.”
“No,” I refused. I couldn’t wait another second, or the chance might pass me by again. “I fucking love you, Katie. I’ve always loved you. You can’t—”
Before I could say that she couldn’t deny what was between us any longer, she cut me off in the last way I expected: her hand slapped my face with a resounding crack. The sting went so much deeper than the flare of pain on my cheek. My mouth dropped open, and I stared down at her in stunned silence.
Her eyes widened with horror, and she drew her hand back to her side as though our contact had burned her. “I’m sorry,” she gasped out. “God, Dex. I’m so sorry.”
The elevator doors slid open, and she darted out into the parking garage. I simply stared after her, frozen by shock. The silver doors closed again, cutting her off from view. I began to move upward, but I barely noticed. There was no thought, no coherent emotion. There was only the horrible, gaping chasm at my core. It expanded, the black void consuming everything in me.
But my love for her remained. What had once been a soft glow in my heart beca
me a sharp, white-hot pain knifing through the center of my chest. It was so intense that it made my gut roil with nausea.
Then one thought rang through my mind with cruel clarity: She doesn’t love me.
5
“Rally to me,” I growled at my team members as they clusterfucked around the DOTA playing field. “We’re all going to die, damn it.”
“Calm your shit, Dex,” Sam’s voice sounded through my headset. “We’re doing the best we—”
“Fuck!” I shouted as I watched my character get killed by an enemy. “I told you to rally to me. Now we fucking lost.”
“Dex,” Sam snapped as her own character bit the dust. “Don’t be a dick. We can play again. It’s not a big deal.”
“I’m going AFK,” I snarled and ripped off my headset, flinging it away before I could crush it in my fist.
My phone instantly dinged with a text alert.
Are you okay?
I heaved in a deep breath. Of course Sam wouldn’t just leave me the fuck alone. All I wanted to do was lose myself in the game, to spend a few blissfully blank hours ordering my teammates around. I hadn’t even wanted to play with Sam, but she saw that I was live on STEAM and I couldn’t think of a good excuse to avoid her.
My phone chimed again.
Dex? I’m worried about you. What’s going on?
I considered ignoring her, but quickly decided against it. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. I picked up my phone with a sigh and typed out a hasty reply.
I’m fine. Just had a bad day. Sorry I was a dick.
Relief swept through me when she didn’t respond. I just wanted to zone out through gaming. Even the thought of moving away from my twenty-seven inch iMac made my gut twist. I was comfortable in my ergonomic chair with the familiar feel of my controls under my fingertips. Here, I could take charge. I could enjoy my quiet solitude without really being alone; other gamers would keep me company without prying into my private life.
So far, I’d managed to attain a sort of numbness in the hours following Katie’s rejection.
Just the thought of her made my cheek tingle with the memory of where she’d slapped me when I confessed my feelings.
Grimacing, I grabbed my headset and got back online. Luckily, Sam seemed to have logged off. Now I could play with strangers without risking any difficult personal questions. If they didn’t like the way I took control of the team, they could find another teammate. I didn’t really care.
Time passed. I shouted at the other faceless, nameless players when they failed me. It felt good.
My buzzer sounded, wrenching me out of the game. I glanced at the time on my computer screen.
Who the hell was at my apartment? It was nearly midnight, and I hadn’t invited anyone over.
The buzzer sounded again. Reluctantly, I left the comfort of my game to answer.
“What?” I snapped into the receiver.
“Hello, sunshine.” I instantly recognized Sam’s cheery voice. “Let me in.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you. I mean, I thought you might need a friend. You sounded really upset. But, I mean, I can leave. Sorry. I shouldn’t have come. It’s late, and—”
“Sam,” I said her name in a familiar firm tone. She tended to get a little frenetic, especially if she felt uncomfortable. “It’s okay. Come on up.”
“Okay, cool. Thanks.”
A couple minutes later, she knocked on my door. I opened it to find her smiling hesitantly, her light blue eyes cautious. She smoothed a pale hand over her short, violently orange hair; the gesture was a sure sign of nervousness.
“I brought booze,” she said, hefting a six-pack of my favorite craft beer, holding it out like an offering.
I took the beer with a tight smile. My fingers brushed against hers, and she quickly withdrew from me as though I’d burned her. She didn’t seem to like direct contact with me. I’d often wondered if she was simply uncomfortable with men in general. I’d certainly never done anything to intimidate her. We were friends.
Her freckled cheeks colored, and her eyes cut away from mine. “Um, well, I just wanted to drop that off. I guess I’ll just go now. I mean, I didn’t mean—”
“Sam,” I said again, grounding her. “Thanks for the beer. You want to play a game?” I stepped back, inviting her in.
She ducked her head in a brief nod, heaving a sigh as she darted past me into my apartment. Despite having come to my place to play games innumerable times in the last two years, she still glanced around as though something dangerous might be lurking in my darkened bedroom.
Well, to be fair, I did have rope, whips, and gags stored in my closet. But Sam didn’t know anything about that.
“Have a seat,” I waved her over to the couch. I didn’t like when she was tense like this. I preferred to see her smiling and laughing. It usually took a few minutes for her to relax around me. “You want one of these?” I lifted the six-pack.
She dropped down onto the couch with a grin, her smile broad and genuine rather than shy and hesitant. “Yeah. Thanks.”
I retrieved my bottle opener from the kitchen and popped open two beers. When I handed her one frosty bottle, I was careful not to touch her. She sighed again.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
She blinked. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”
My mouth firmed at the reminder of Katie’s rejection.
“I mean, I guess it’s none of my business,” she said quickly. “We can just play. We don’t have to talk about it. Not that there is an it. I mean, I can tell something’s wrong, but I don’t want to pressure you. You probably want to be alone. I shouldn’t have bothered you. I’ll just go.”
She started to push herself up off the couch. I caught her wrist and tugged her back down. She gasped at the firm contact, and I withdrew carefully.
“Stay.” When she was like this, she responded better to direct orders. Although she was the best analyst with the Bureau, she needed direction outside of a work setting. I suspected she had submissive tendencies, but I didn’t really think of her in a sexual context. She was just my friend Sam.
I blew out a breath, trying to release some of my tension that seemed to be upsetting her. “I just had a bad day,” I explained. “Sorry if I’m being rude. It was really nice of you to come over.”
She sagged back into the cushions with obvious relief. “I’m glad. I mean, I’m not glad you had a bad day, but I don’t want to leave. I—” She sucked in a deep breath, visibly collecting herself. She fixed me with an uncharacteristically intense stare. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
“Okay, cool. I mean…” She trailed off, then squared her shoulders. “No. It’s not cool. You need to talk about it. I can tell you’re all tense and upset. It’s not like you to be mean.”
I opened my mouth to deny that I’d been mean, but she was right, damn it. I’d been a dick.
“It’s Katie, isn’t it?” she asked quietly before I could answer. “I’ve seen her at the office. With Reed. I know you… Well, I know. What that’s like, I mean. What it feels like to love someone who doesn’t feel the same way.” Her eyes were huge in her freckled face, and her pink lips parted slightly. She seemed to have stopped breathing.
I looked away and swallowed hard. My chest burned, my emotions tangling in an ugly mess of pain and rage.
“She’s an idiot, Dex,” Sam said with soft fervor. “Any girl would be lucky to be with you.” Her small hand closed around mine, squeezing gently.
I blinked and met her blue gaze again, surprised at her bold contact. She must really care that I was hurting to touch me like this when she was usually so skittish.
“Thanks, Sam,” I said, my voice thick. “You’re a good friend.”
Her eyes tightened, and she withdrew her hand from mine. She blinked rapidly, no longer looking directly at me. A flicker of emotion I didn’t understand passed across her face, but it was
gone as quickly as it had come.
She shrugged and reached for the X-box controls. “Are we playing, or what?”
Sam really was too good to me. She’d come over to comfort me, and she backed off when she recognized that I wasn’t ready to talk. What I needed was easy companionship, and that’s what she was offering.
“Yeah,” I replied. “Thanks,” I said again, hoping the one word could communicate the depth of my gratitude for her understanding.
She took a long swallow of her beer, then turned to me with a smile, her eyes over-bright. “Anytime, buddy. Now, prepare to get your ass kicked.”
Her attention riveted to the controller, her fingers flying over the buttons.
Some of the tension in my chest eased. “I’d like to see you try,” I teased, feeling more at ease than I had since the awful encounter in the elevator.
I tore my mind from the horrific memory and focused on the game.
6
Three long days passed after what I was simply coming to think of as the elevator incident. Katie barely looked at me, much less stayed near me for more than a few minutes at a time.
But she stayed close to Miller. He touched her causally, placing his body protectively close to hers. He was clearly growing possessive, and the way she softened when he Topped her told me everything I didn’t want to know: he was fucking her, and she was falling for him. The two of them were inseparable. I never saw her without him hovering close at her side. He spent his days with her—and his nights, as well.
Even worse, we’d discovered that her stalker—Parnell—was the Mentor. He’d attacked her and left clues that linked him to the evidence we had on the serial killer. It was a miracle that he hadn’t taken her when he had the chance.
No. Not a miracle. It was his choice. He reveled in toying with her. The arrogant fucker wanted her to try to catch him.
And I hadn’t been able to take him out yet. If I could just rescue her, maybe she would see how much I cared. Maybe she would finally understand that all I wanted was to protect her, cherish her.