by Vonna Harper
Barely aware of what was happening, she let a still-tense Joe guide her through the room she prayed would never again be put to the use it had been tonight. They didn’t speak.
As she waited for him to unlock his vehicle, she risked touching her cheeks. They hurt, straight out hurt. She wouldn’t be surprised if she wound up with black eyes. The collar was tight around her throat. With far from steady fingers, she unhooked it. She considered throwing it as far as she could, but didn’t.
“Why did you do that?” Joe asked when she tossed it in the back seat.
“It’s over,” she croaked. “No more.”
“You’re in no position to make decisions.” He pointed to remind her to fasten her seat belt. “You don’t know how you’ll feel in a few days.”
“That’s my decision. Just—stay out of it.”
Instead of arguing, which she absolutely could not and would not put up with, she stared out the front window. Police cars were parked randomly in what had been empty spaces not long ago. She didn’t think law enforcement would detain everyone. Most of the officers were probably there to ensure that Ethan’s guards wouldn’t cause trouble.
“I’m going to take you to the hospital.”
“What? No. I can’t face—”
“You’re proof of what Ethan’s capable of.”
He was right, damn him. “How much did you see?”
“Enough. Too much. It got recorded.”
“The sounds—I didn’t think about that.” Looking at Joe would have to wait until she fully understood herself and that might not happen for years. “You made the decision to record things from the beginning, but you didn’t tell me because you were afraid I’d tip Ethan off. Not act natural or something.”
“I couldn’t take the chance.”
She would always be associated with what had taken place here tonight. As long as she was alive people would associate her with Ethan Crowl. Maybe suspect she’d approved of his plan to capitalize on certain men’s desire to control unwilling women.
Why wouldn’t they come to that conclusion? After all, she’d flaunted a slave collar in public.
“Talk to me.” He kept his attention on the road. “Curse.”
“Not now. Talking hurts too much.”
“All right, but once you’ve healed.”
He stretched a hand toward her. She slapped it away.
“Leave me alone. Just leave me the hell alone.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t. This is bigger than the two of us. The stakes are huge.”
Beyond caring about the consequences, she turned her hand into a fist and slammed it against his thigh. Let him experience some of what she had!
He didn’t try to stop her from striking him a second and then a third time. The enraged creature who’d torn Ethan off her had been replaced by someone she didn’t understand and didn’t want to.
Chapter 11
When Joe looked out the peephole in his apartment’s door, he wasn’t surprised to see Caleb staring back. The detective held up a six pack of beer.
A near smile lifted the corners of his mouth as he welcomed Caleb in. He’d spent too much time in his own company. Besides, Caleb had been so busy making sure the charges against Ethan held that he wouldn’t be there if he didn’t have something important to tell him.
“We’re celebrating,” Caleb announced. “As many times as the legal system fucks things up, for once they got it right.”
“I take it Ethan’s request for bail was rejected,” he asked as they headed for the small kitchen.
He grabbed a couple of bottles, opened them, handed one to Caleb, and planted himself on a stool. Caleb took the other stool.
“I thought Ethan’s expensive lawyer was going to have a stroke. He’d barely gotten started about how Ethan couldn’t be considered a flight risk because he had all that property when the judge interrupted to say he knew his client was mafia. Unless a lot changes, said client’s going to be stuck in jail for months and that’s before the trial.”
“He can still run his operation.”
“He’ll try, but he’s already lost clout there. It’ll become even more of a headache for him as time passes and others push to take control.”
“There’s going to be a lot of upheaval.”
“Yes.”
And law enforcement will have its hands full keeping track of what was going on where and by whom. The power plays would result in violence. Blood would be shed. Alliances would shift and change. Occasionally fall apart.
“That’s the downside to bringing someone like Ethan Crowl down.” Caleb took a healthy swig. “The playground bullies are going to be out in force.”
“I figure they already are. You’ll have your hands full.”
“That’s an understatement. I’ve been working undercover so long I have a pretty good idea what to expect from whom. Wears me out just thinking about it. Some of those bastards are flat out crazy.”
“Take some time off.”
“Yeah, right. And lose my edge. No thanks. I’m hoping I get assigned to go after that guy in Mexico.”
“Hugo.”
“Hugo from Sierra Mojada. As small as the place is I’m thinking he won’t be hard to find. He isn’t going to want to testify, but if we can get him up here, he’ll do whatever he has to to minimize his involvement. He’ll give us names that hopefully lead to other names.”
“Names you already know about.”
Caleb grunted. “I can be a sneaky bastard when it’s called for. I also have a good memory.”
“You told me you’re single. Does that mean you’re going to devote all your waking hours to crippling the mafia?”
“I already am.”
Something about Caleb’s tone told Joe that this was no simple comment on his part. Instead of pushing, he stared at the tiny kitchen.
“You aren’t the only person who lost someone they love to the organization. Justice can be a powerful motive.”
Joe rubbed the tattoo of his brother. “Yes, it can.”
Caleb signed. “Maybe I’ll tell you sometime unless—when are you going back home?”
“Maybe never.”
“What are you talking about?”
A mental image stirred, the same that had been stalking him since the night he’d stopped Ethan Crowl from strangling his stepdaughter. “I’m thinking about applying here. In fact, I’d like to get your opinion about which agency you’d recommend I contact.”
“Why? Not enough crime up north?”
“Maybe I need a change of scenery. More sunshine and less rain.”
“Whatever. Yeah, I can help you. You won’t have any trouble getting hired anywhere. Any preferences regarding what you want to focus on? Anti-gang, maybe?”
“I don’t understand local gangs like you do.”
“Yeah, that’s a great skill to have. I’ll give you a cram course. You can pick up the details on the job. A question. Does she have anything to do with why you made this decision?”
He could see his reflection in the microwave. Looking back at him was a man in need of a shave and haircut. One who’d long believed he knew who he was. That core person still existed, but had become more complex and complicated which wasn’t the same thing.
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
Lainey walked out of the huge South Bay District Attorney’s building and into heat. This had been her second visit there, and she had no idea how many more times she’d have to return. Until it no longer brought tears to her eyes to talk, she hadn’t known how she’d summon the guts to do what she needed to in order to put and keep Ethan behind bars, but she’d done what she needed to. Last night she’d slept for five nightmare-less hours which she considered a victory.
She waited until she was in her vehicle with the air conditioning going before she called her mother.
“I’m done,” she told her. “At least for today. How are you doing?”
“I got the script, but haven’t looked at it.”
“Then things are moving forward? No backlash because of what’s going on in your personal life?”
“No. Honey, it’s crazy but I think all this stuff with Ethan will help my career. My agent has gotten two more calls about my availability, and he’s working out the details of that TV interview. I need you to help me decide what to wear.”
Stuff with Ethan. That’s as close to reality as her mother had come to discussing the details of why her estranged husband was behind bars facing numerous charges. Megara had seen the photographs taken of her at the hospital, but mother and daughter hadn’t talked about them. They’d hugged and cried a little. For now Lainey was content.
“I’m sorry,” Megara said. “Here I am talking about me when you matter. How did it go?”
You don’t really want to know. “We covered a lot of the same territory as the first time. The attorney I’ve been working with says the prosecution has a solid case. I hope they’re right.”
“Of—did he say how long it’ll be before the trial?”
“Months. Maybe a year. There’s so much—by the way, it’s official. I’m going back to work on Monday. It’ll be tight financially until I get caught up on my bills, but I’ll make it.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I’m not sure when, or if, I’ll have access to Ethan’s accounts. Thank goodness I’ll be getting paid before much longer. What about Korbin?”
“He wanted to hand me a blank check, but you know how I am, stubborn.”
“I’m glad you are. Otherwise…”
“I know.” I might not have survived. “How about we get together Friday night? Come over. We’ll order something so we don’t have to show our faces in public.”
“I’ve arranged to have my food delivered. I’ll supply the wine.”
“Perfect. If you get tipsy, you can spend the night.” Maybe talk about how you feel about Ethan.
“I might take you up on it. I need a drink. Honey, I love you.”
“No more than I love you.”
Her mother had moved out of the place she’d shared with Ethan and was staying at a studio apartment Korbin had rented for her until her finances were more settled. Mother and daughter had contemplated living together, but if their relationship was going to heal there needed to be space between them. Separate places in which to think.
Obviously, Joe had come to the same decision.
He no longer needed her. She’d outlived her worth to him.
And she didn’t want him.
Pushing away thoughts that insisted on lurking in the corners of her mind, she joined the traffic and battled her way home. She probably could catch up with her classes, but considering what was ahead over the next few months, taking a break might be better. Unfortunately, she didn’t have anyone to help her make the decision.
She slid into her parking space and got out. A prickling at the base of her skull stopped her. So far, the media hadn’t picked up on her involvement with what had turned into a major news event, but she knew better than to take her privacy for granted. Just thinking about having her story splashed all over made her shudder.
Then she spotted him.
Much as she wanted to hide behind her closed and locked door, she stared at Joe. He was different from the last time she’d seen him, his eyes no longer blazing with hatred for Ethan. There’d been something else back then that she’d unsuccessfully tried to ignore—concern for her.
“Hello,” she made herself say. “I—what are you doing here?”
“To tell you what you have a right to know.”
“Such as?”
He was so still she wondered if he was a figment of her imagination. Casually dressed in a blue T-shirt and shorts, he looked like countless southern California men, but he still would have caught her attention. He hadn’t shaved for at least a day. Between his darkened cheeks and jaw and the damage the stiff breeze had done to his dark hair, he would stand out. His gaze was intense, his expression leaving her with no doubt his full attention was on her.
“I’d prefer to tell you in private,” he said. “The neighbors don’t need to know.”
He was assuming she’d let him into her place because he still had control over her? She could shake that nonsense out of him or…
“All right.”
If her place interested him, he gave no indication. He looked around, but unless she didn’t know him as well as she believed she did, he was perusing her small living room with a cop’s eye. He wouldn’t care that one wall held a huge picture of the redwoods while a collage of bird photographs adorned another. Instead, he took note of her deadbolt and the locks on the two windows. His head jerked in approval when he spotted the baseball bat near the front door. She kept her largest knife in the cupboard closest to her refrigerator in the adjacent kitchen. For the first time in her life, she owned a gun which was in her nightstand. She was no expert when it came to firing it, but she’d had a couple of lessons and was scheduled for more. She could grab it without having to get out of bed.
“I’ve been in Mexico,” he said as she engaged the deadbolt. “Otherwise I would have been in touch before this.”
“Sierra Mojada?”
“Yes. And so you don’t have to ask, we found him.”
“We?”
“Caleb Roth and me. He’s the cop who—”
“I remember.” She waited until a too-familiar wave of dread settled inside her. She might not be alive if it hadn’t been for Caleb—and Joe. “What was he doing there?”
“He was integral to the plan. I can give you the details now if you’re interested, but I’d rather focus on what I can share about what’s been happening since that night.”
That night. The one that could have resulted in her death. “All right.”
He took up too much room, seemed to steal the air as well as the space. Despite her efforts to the contrary, memories snapped through her. She saw him standing on the other side of the cage’s bars where she couldn’t reach him, felt his hands on her defenseless ass, heard him command her to do as he ordered. Minute details of when and how he’d fastened a leash to the collar—what had happened to it?—insisted on replaying. No matter how hard she fought her reaction, heat consumed her.
His fingers had been in her.
So had his cock.
Mostly that.
“Sit.” Her voice was sharp, but damn it, her time to be in charge had come. She no longer belonged to him.
No, she didn’t.
The sight of him dominating her chair did nothing to negate the power she had no doubt was an innate part of him. She might never see him again, but she wouldn’t forget this moment. She’d be linked to him for as long as she lived.
Against all reason, it felt right.
“Hugo provided us with some of the pieces we need,” he said once she was sitting across from him. “We didn’t have enough time to go over everything, and I won’t be surprised if we have to subpoena him to get him up here to testify.”
“We? So—you’re officially involved? I thought, considering how personal this is for you, you wouldn’t be allowed to participate.”
“You’ve been thinking about that?”
“Of course.”
“Why?”
“What are you getting at?”
As his mouth tightened, the tension in the room kicked up. Something was going on inside him, but she’d be a fool to try to plaster a label on it.
“I thought you’d do everything possible not to have me on your mind,” he said.
“No.” She needed to be honest. “I tried, but I knew it wouldn’t work. Nothing like what we went through has ever happened to me.”
“Went through? That’s all it was?”
Strangely, she wanted to laugh. To explain how long she’d searched for the redwood photograph after she’d seen the massive trees on the northern California coast. “I needed—I wanted our experience to marinate before I came to a conclusion about my emotions. My feelings.”
“Do
you want me to give it a shot?”
He cocked his head to the side, a man sending a message to a woman who carried a lifetime worth of burdens, a man who wore his murdered brother’s likeness on his shoulder.
“Go ahead,” she said. “I can’t promise I’ll agree.”
Eyes narrowing, he settled his attention on her throat where bruises lingered. “I don’t want you to. You admitted to Ethan how you were handling your PTSD. That was exactly what you needed to do.”
This big man with the start of a beard and a shirt ill-equipped to house his muscular form was wise beyond measure.
“My mind’s messed up,” she admitted. “One thing I’m hoping to get straight. How does Korbin factor in?”
“Ask him.”
“You have a pretty good idea, right?”
“Not as much as I want. When you talk to him, bring up Judge and Jury.”
“Judge—all right.”
“What else are you confused about?”
Everything. Mostly you. “I can’t decide whether to continue with my classes or wait until next term.”
He leaned forward. “Can you concentrate? Are you dreading tests or approaching them as a way to validate what you’ve learned?”
She hadn’t expected that. Hell, she hadn’t expected to be in the same space with him. “I’m not prepared for midterms. I attended my psychology class night before last, even took notes, but I don’t remember a word of what the prof said.”
“Did that happen before I took you?”
Took was a soft word. It didn’t come close to reality. “I’ve always been a sponge. I enjoy learning for the sake of learning, but my mind kept wandering.”
“What did you think about?”
You. Trying to figure out who I am. “Everything. Nothing. Darn it, Joe. You haven’t been locked up. No one has ever spanked you or—or forced you to climax.”
“Forced or helped?”
“I’m not going to play word games. I know what happened.”
“So do I.”
“Fine. Whatever.” Why had she let him in and what would it take to get rid of him? Their relationship was a complicated mess, more than she could handle. She had to stop staring at his hands and remembering how they’d felt on her.