Keeping Karly (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Rachel Clark

  Keeping Karly

  Karly James is determined to protect her sister from the BDSM community that almost got her killed. Anger fuels every word. The newspaper articles are just the beginning of her war against Doms and fetish clubs.

  But Karly is a woman with a terrible secret. Everyone else sees a happy, loving marriage. Only she knows what it costs to maintain the illusion.

  When Bryce and Grant Anderson stumble upon the truth, they move to protect her, vowing to keep her safe, forcing her to face reality, and giving her a chance at a new beginning. But when love starts to blossom, all three find themselves facing a difficult choice.

  Can Karly truly set aside the hurts of the past and learn to trust again? Can Bryce and Grant deny their dominant tendencies even when it’s for a woman they love?

  Perhaps, for some people, love never was meant to conquer all…

  Note: There is no sexual relationship or touching for titillation between or among siblings.

  Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre

  Length: 32,834 words

  KEEPING KARLY

  Rachel Clark

  MENAGE AMOUR

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  ABOUT THE E-BOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED: Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer.

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Ménage Amour

  KEEPING KARLY

  Copyright © 2013 by Rachel Clark

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-62242-487-0

  First E-book Publication: March 2013

  Cover design by Harris Channing

  All cover art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

  If you have purchased this copy of Keeping Karly by Rachel Clark from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

  Regarding E-book Piracy

  This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.

  The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.

  This is Rachel Clark’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Clark’s right to earn a living from her work.

  Amanda Hilton, Publisher

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  www.BookStrand.com

  DEDICATION

  For Jackie. Thanks, hun.

  KEEPING KARLY

  RACHEL CLARK

  Copyright © 2013

  Prologue

  Bryce Anderson watched the scene in front of him and tried to be pleased for Lachlan, Doug, and their soon-to-be-collared sub, Alicia. It was obvious that the three of them were happy together, despite the unusualness of their arrangement. It was actually the type of relationship Bryce and his brother, Grant, had one day hoped to find with that one special woman.

  But today Bryce was no longer sure that he knew what he wanted. He used to enjoy spending time at the club, watching scenes, occasionally playing with one of the experienced subs, but not today. Today he felt hollow, gutted. Today he was questioning everything he thought he knew.

  And it was all because of the behavior of a man he’d considered a friend.

  If he’d misread Robert so badly, could he trust his own instincts when it came to other Doms? Was it possible that inside this club there lurked even more like Robert, men ready to explode, willing to risk a sub’s life just for their own enjoyment?

  After all the training he’d done, Bryce had always felt confident that he was in control of his actions, and had assumed it was that way for the other Doms as well. Obviously it wasn’t that way for Robert.

  “How’s Casey?” Lachlan asked as Bryce came to stand beside him. He was watching Doug flog the sub that they shared. His question wasn’t surprising. They were a close-knit community, and nearly every Dom and all of the subs had dropped by the hospital to visit Casey as she slowly recovered.

  “The doctors are planning to release her in a few days. She’s decided to stay with her sister and her sister’s husband until she’s well enough to cope on her own.”

  Lachlan watched Alicia and Doug together for a moment then turned his attention back to Bryce. “I suppose that’s good news,” he said quietly. It was clear that Casey’s heart attack had affected the way he viewed the lifestyle they all led as well. In fact it had been the catalyst for Lachlan to finally reveal his needs to the woman he loved. Lachlan stood beside him for a moment, watching the scene, perhaps also trying to process some of the emotional fallout from Robert’s behavior. Finally, with a smile for his lovely wife, he moved back onto the stage.

  Bryce hadn’t needed to add that Casey had been given a list of restrictions as long as his arm. Predictably, the doctors had advised her to avoid any and all BDSM activities. Considering how badly bruised she’d been, Bryce could understand why someone not in the lifestyle would say that.

  He’d gone to the hospital a few hours ago to check on her progress and make certain Casey had someone to take care of her when she was released. It was the first time he’d seen her out of bed since her heart attack and he’d struggled to hide his rage. Even after nearly three weeks in hospital, Casey’s legs were still covered in fading bruises. Not only had Robert caused her heart attack, but he’d beaten the hell out of her with a cane beforehand.

  When Bryce had demanded to know how high the bruises went, Casey had burst into tears. He’d known the woman for years, had spoken to the little sub in the same tone many times, so her reaction had shaken him to the core.

  He’d held her carefully, rocking her slightly in the same way he would with a sub after an intense scene, and silently promised the woman this would never happen again. Not in this club. Not by his friends. He’d never seen a sub so poorly treated by someone she should have been able to trust.

  It didn’t lessen his annoyance, though, at being tarred with the same brush.

  Thanks to o
ne out-of-control, sadistic asshole who deserved whatever punishment the law could provide, the small amount of acceptance their lifestyle had been gaining in the wider community had been completely obliterated by a single news article.

  The members of this club, both Doms and subs, people he and Grant considered their closest friends, had figuratively circled the wagons to protect the club and each other, but it hadn’t stopped the newspaper article from speculating on the mindset of men who would enslave women.

  Enslave?

  Hell. The writer had literally made them sound like the spawn of the devil, beating and raping brainwashed women. He’d ground his teeth so hard as he read the unfair, badly researched, biased writing that he’d cracked a damn tooth.

  But it wasn’t until he’d run into Casey’s sister in the hallway of the hospital that he’d realized who’d written it.

  Karly James.

  It hadn’t even occurred to him that the woman would write under her maiden name until she’d launched a scathing verbal attack right there in the hallway. Some of the accusations she’d flung his way had been downright hateful. He understood her concern for her sister, but surely she’d seen how the BDSM community had gathered around Casey, supporting her, protecting her, risking their own privacy by suggesting she press charges against Robert.

  The sub on stage screamed as her orgasm hit, drawing his attention back to the woman who’d once been Lachlan’s best friend and was about to be collared by both of her Doms. Doug pressed a kiss to her mouth, smoothing the hair away from her eyes as Lachlan released her from the Shibari rope. She collapsed into Doug’s arms, her smile tired but beautifully content as he wrapped her in a warm blanket and then moved to take a seat at the back of the room. Lachlan quickly joined them, and the three sat together talking quietly, obviously very happy with the way their lives had worked out.

  Their relationship was a perfect example of what Bryce had wanted, but over the past few years he’d lost faith that he’d ever find it. He was nearly thirty-five and he wanted kids while he was still young enough to enjoy them. Maybe he should consider an ordinary life.

  And maybe he should reconsider the offer he’d gotten to work in Hong Kong. It was only six months. Perhaps that would give him enough time away from everything to reconsider the direction of his life.

  He glanced at the three people at the back of the room, their happiness clear in every touch.

  Love. True, honest, perfect.

  It was what Bryce wanted, but maybe he just wasn’t supposed to get it.

  Chapter One

  I miss my sister.

  After five months of having her live under my roof, arguing almost every day, the house feels too quiet now that she’s moved out. Talking on the phone just doesn’t seem enough. Even though the circumstances that brought her to my door were terrifying, it has been wonderful to spend time with my younger sister again. It doesn’t mean we understand each other any better than we had when we were kids, but at least we’ve had the chance to bond again as adults.

  I hadn’t even realized how far we’d grown apart until she’d almost died at the hands of a madman. Casey called him a Dom—an expression she learned from a sex club she visited. It’s a label that, in my opinion, is just a euphemism for woman-bashing asshole.

  After what happened to Casey, there should be no way she could deny it.

  But deny it, she does.

  In fact, now that the doctor has cleared her for her usual activities she’s on the phone, excitedly filling me in on her plans for tonight.

  “You can’t be serious!” I exclaim in shocked horror. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”

  “Karly,” my younger sister says with an exasperated sigh, “Robert was one man. We’ve been through this. What he did was wrong, but it wasn’t an example of what happens at the club. The people there care about each other. Surely you saw the way they supported me while I was ill.”

  Support? Yeah, right. More like trying to cover their asses so they didn’t get sued. And just like those assholes planned, Casey had refused to press charges against the man who’d done this to her. He’d damn near killed her, yet Casey had been brainwashed into believing she was protecting her “friends” by keeping quiet.

  I hate them for it. Hell, I’ve written a number of articles for the local paper that expose the dangers of such a lifestyle. I even made certain that every impressionable woman in the area knows how deadly this club and the so-called Doms can be. I thought I’d managed to convince my sister to stay away from them.

  But apparently I was wrong.

  “Casey, please don’t do this,” I say, hoping that my fear for her might sway her decision.

  “Why don’t you come with me?” she asks in a hopeful tone. “You can see that it’s not what you think it is.”

  A part of me is tempted to go to the club in an effort to protect her, but considering some of the things I’ve written for all to see, I doubt I’ll be welcome. I might even be the one in need of protection. Who knows how men like that might react to me exposing their sordid, violent behavior?

  I’m almost startled to hear my husband’s car pull into the garage. Hell, time really flies some days. Between writing my column for the paper, the exposé series I’ve been researching on fetish clubs, and the myriad of other little things that need to be done each day I really don’t have time to argue with my sister on the phone. I glance at the half chopped vegetables on the cutting board. Damn, dinner is going to be late.

  “Casey, I have to go, but please promise me you’ll rethink about going tonight.”

  “Karly, I’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry.”

  I laugh humorlessly, annoyed at my sister, partially blaming her for the fact that dinner isn’t on the table and my husband just got home.

  “Fine, just remember that the next heart attack will probably kill you.”

  I hang up before she can respond. It was a horrible thing to say, but I’m not sure how long I can fret over the self-destructive behavior of my little sister. She’s an adult who can make her own choices. I have my own problems to worry about.

  My husband walks in just as I turn back to the vegetables.

  “Don’t tell me,” he says, sounding tired and annoyed. “Dinner is going to be late, again.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say, still trying to rein my temper in. Shit, my sister has always been able to push my buttons. How did we manage to keep a truce for the past five months? I suppose life-threatening illness will do that to families.

  “Sorry?” my husband asks in a tone of voice I haven’t heard in a very long while.

  My hands shake as I surreptitiously slide the dirty chef’s knife back into the drawer and grab my smallest, bluntest vegetable knife.

  “I really am sorry, John,” I say, trying to keep the quiver from my voice. “I had a meeting at the paper this morning, and the afternoon was really hectic, and then my sis—” I stop talking midsentence as his hand curls into a fist in my hair. I try not to react. I know that crying out or responding in any way will only make this worse.

  Hell. I thought this part of our life was over.

  It’s been nearly two years. Two years of peace. Well, sort of.

  “I don’t give a flying fuck what you do during the day. You’re my wife. Your one and only job is to take care of me.” He twists his hand, pulling my hair painfully, forcing me to react even though I try not to.

  The moment I reach above me, instinctively grabbing for his hands, trying to loosen his grip, he punches me in the ribcage. The sharp jab steals my breath, takes my ability to control my reaction. I twist, fighting him, screaming as he begins hitting me over and over.

  Fuck. Nothing like this happened when my sister was here.

  I really miss my sister.

  * * * *

  Bryce climbed the steps to Karly James’s beautiful home and couldn’t help but hope time had lessened the woman’s vehement hatred of all things Dominant. It didn’t really mat
ter if it hadn’t. He was only here to say a quick hello to Casey before driving home to surprise his brother with his early return from Hong Kong, but it would be nice to get through this without having unfair accusations thrown his way.

  He was about to knock on the stylish and rather expensive-looking front door when he heard a woman’s scream. His first thought was that Casey was playing—and he was actually a little relieved to think that she might be recovered enough to enjoy her previous lifestyle—but when something crashed to the ground rather loudly, his only thought was to get inside.

  What he found horrified him.

  Chapter Two

  It hasn’t been this bad in a very long while.

  In fact, judging by my current state—disorientated, nearly blinded by blood, and curled in the fetal position—I’d say it’s never been this bad. Was the peace while my sister was here just the calm before the storm?

  I don’t react to the loud crashing noises as my husband smashes my souvenir plate collection. How could I have let him know they meant something to me? Hadn’t I learned two years ago what not to do? Hadn’t I been listening when we’d found the secret to a happy marriage? I’d learned how to avoid John’s temper. I knew the way to keep him calm. I just had to do everything his way and our marriage was happy. How could I have forgotten that rule?

  “Karly?” a man’s voice says close to my ear. I whimper, expecting another blow, flinching away from the soft touch on my shoulder. “Is Casey here, too?”