Forbidden Fires

by Jodie Griffin

“Williamsburg,” Jonah replied. “You?”

  Well, that made more sense. Williamsburg was a few hours away, so a fire in Baltimore probably wouldn’t have made the news there.

  “We’re from just outside Baltimore,” Colin answered for them. “Also a bit of a hike for us, but completely worth it.”

  “A friend originally recommended this place, and even though the retreat didn’t turn out to be what we expected, I was impressed with McConnell.” Jonah laid his hand over his wife’s bound ones, fiddled with a bracelet that hung just below the restraints. “We’re both really interested in this, but Charlotte has a heart condition so we need to be extra careful in how we go about it.” Charlotte let out a small sound of distress, then buried her face in his shirt.

  Ah, looked like a medic alert bracelet. That was the undercurrent she’d felt. “That’s smart, really. Yesterday we talked about limits and safe words, and every step of the way with what we did, Master Gabriel checked to make sure I was okay.”

  Colin chimed in. “I know, it seems insane to take a class on something like this. Shouldn’t I just know what to do? But I love Delia more than my own life, and the last thing I want to do is hurt her.” He grinned. “Well, hurt her in a bad way.”

  She knew he was acting, but God, the words she’d never thought she’d hear from him again brought tears to her eyes. She blinked them back, but she must’ve made some sound, because he turned her so she was facing him only, away from their eyes. He didn’t say the words, just mouthed them.

  “I still love you. I never stopped.” He wound his fingers into her hair and kissed her, so sweetly she thought her heart would burst.

  When he pulled back and wiped the tear from her cheek, she locked eyes with him. “I love you too.” Heat flared in them, and possession so strong, it would’ve knocked her over if she hadn’t been sitting on his lap.

  The timing wasn’t great, not in the middle of a case, but she couldn’t have held it back any longer. She still didn’t know what it meant for them, long-term. After all, she’d loved him a year ago, and look what had happened. But they knew so much more about each other now, such private things. Hope flared but she tempered it. They had to get through this first.

  Gabe McConnell came back into the room. “Sorry for the wait. Lunch is ready in the dining room. Jonah, Charlotte, could you give us a minute? I need to speak with Colin and Delia briefly.”

  “Sure thing,” Jonah said, helping Charlotte up. “Come on, sweetness.”

  Delia smiled at the endearment and the obvious love between the two. When they’d left the room, she turned her gaze to Gabe McConnell, who looked suddenly grim. Her stomach dropped. “What?”

  “I don’t know if it’s anything to worry about, but I just got a strange call on my cell while I was up dropping the Smithsons’ bags in their room. It was a woman or a young girl. I couldn’t tell, because her voice was low. My first thought was prank call, but then she called me Master Gabriel.” His brow furrowed in concern. “All she said was he’s not taking no for an answer this time.”

  Without a word, Colin drew out his phone and pressed a button. “Hey, Butler here. Can you get a trace on any calls that came in to McConnell’s cell phone in the past fifteen minutes? I need to know who called.” He listened for a few moments, his face hardening. “Thanks. Call me when you get it.”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “Things are heating up. Two odd prints came back from the Wests’ house. One belongs to Hank Whitcomb. When they were shown his picture, they identified him as the man you turned away. Other than that, they say they’ve never met him. The trooper on our task force went to his apartment and his job. No one’s seen him since Thursday. What they did find in his apartment was a hacker’s dream. They’re looking at his computer now, but he had stuff tacked to the walls.” He flicked his finger across his phone and turned it toward them.

  “Shit,” she said. The walls were covered with copies of driver’s license photos, and pictures of the houses that had been targeted. Big red X through each of them. She squinted. “Let me see that.”

  Colin handed her the phone and she enlarged the picture, sucking in a breath. She turned it back around, showing both men. “That’s this house. And he’s marked it with an X.”

  “Jesus,” McConnell muttered. “You think he’s on his way here?”

  She looked at Colin, and his answer was written on his face. Well, that’s just great.

  “I do,” he said grimly. “Which means we need to get the Smithsons out of here, somewhere safe. You too,” he said to McConnell.

  Colin saw the denial on McConnell’s face before the words even left his lips. “Fuck that. My house, my business. I’m staying. I also have state-of-the-art fire protection here. I was on the line for fifteen years. I was careful how I set this all up.”

  “I wasn’t expecting anything different,” Colin admitted. “But the Smithsons have to go. We need to get local law enforcement here to take them somewhere safe. I’d like to send Delia off with them, but—”

  “Just try it.” She glared at him with mutiny in her eyes, a look that said he’d just declared war. “Not in this lifetime.”

  Not that he was surprised by her vehemence. His newly discovered inner caveman wanted one thing, but he wasn’t going to get it. He tried to smile but it came out more a grimace. “Jesus, I didn’t say I would, I said I’d like to. The truth is, that dominant, possessive guy inside me you made me acknowledge wants you the hell out of here. The reality is we’re both cops and you need to be here. So sue me for wanting you somewhere safe, but give me some fucking credit for not ordering you to go.”

  “As if you could,” she muttered, winding his gut tighter. “I’ll go call the locals and get someone over here, then I’ll talk to the Smithsons and let them know what’s going on.” She started to walk away, but she turned and stopped in front of him, practically toe-to-toe.

  Her look and her body language was in no way submissive as she stared him right in the eye, breaking the flimsy connection between the two restraints still binding her wrists. She cupped a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down to her level, dropping a searing hot kiss on his mouth, all tongue and teeth and pent-up emotion. He was so stunned he stood there for a long moment before opening to her. As he fell into the kiss, he clasped her hips tightly, not caring if he left a mark there, the caveman inside him hoping he did.

  She groaned, he groaned and then she stepped back, breathing harshly. “Be careful. I need you safe too.” She fisted his shirt, tugged for emphasis. “Need, Colin. Not just want. Need.”

  Her hand dropped, and as she started to walk away, she made a brief stop in front of Gabe McConnell, standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “You be careful too, Master Gabriel.”

  “If you don’t marry her, you’re a fucking idiot,” McConnell said, staring bemusedly after her as she left the room. “And you won’t get a second chance, because I know at least ten Doms who’d love to give her what she needs and keep her so busy she won’t have time to think about you.”

  Still stunned by Dee’s fervent declaration, it took Colin a second to catch up. “Yeah, they could try. But I’d kill them myself.”

  McConnell barked a laugh and then frowned, all levity gone. “So what now?”

  “I call my team, and they get things organized on their end. It’s possible he’s not headed here, and I don’t want to take the chance of him targeting somewhere else. And it’s possible it’s not him, either. They need to keep looking for other connections, other suspects. They’ll also get in contact with the right agencies to get coverage out here. In the meantime, make sure your security is up and running.”

  McConnell nodded. “It’s in my office.”

  Colin followed him down the hall and around the corner into the small room.

  McConnell opened an antique cabinet near his desk, revealing a security monitoring system, including cameras at the front and back doors, at the bottom of the driveway and along the wa
lkway to a restaurant next door. No cameras in any of the rooms, but he supposed with the nature of Bondage and Breakfast that wasn’t a surprise. If people realized they were being viewed, would they be as comfortable here? He almost snorted. Probably some of them. Hell, having McConnell watch him with Delia hadn’t been a turn off. In fact, it had been just the opposite. Either way, though, the privacy of the rooms was good business.

  “I have the alarms turned off since I’m expecting guests, but I have the cameras running.” McConnell tapped a few keys and enlarged the one focused on the turnoff into his driveway. “I keep a continuous eight-hour loop, but I’ll expand it to twelve hours. This is the spot I’m most concerned about,” he said, pointing to a copse of trees that obscured the line of sight. “I’m not worried about cars, because it’s too thick. But someone on foot could—”

  A sudden crash from the dining room choked off his words midsentence.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Colin bolted from the office with McConnell hot on his heels. He reached for his weapon but came up empty, slapping the spot where his holster usually sat. Shit. It was still in their room, along with Delia’s. He halted just outside the door to the dining room, hand up to keep McConnell back, listening. Without a weapon, he needed to be smart.

  Delia’s voice came from inside, cool, calm, collected, and he drew a small breath and said a fervent prayer.

  “Are you Kayla? Why don’t you put that down so we can talk?”

  “I can’t.” The girl’s voice was thin and reedy, almost singsong. “I always follow my Master’s orders. I’m his good little slave. He told me so.”

  Colin’s eyes widened, and he chanced a glance at McConnell. The guy’s face was grim, anger rolling from him in waves. Colin held up his hand, narrowing his eyes until the guy finally nodded. Not happy, but he did it. Colin wasn’t happy either. He wished he knew what Kayla was holding so he knew what to do next. He had no idea if Delia had been able to contact the local sheriff’s department, or if they were on their own.

  Delia continued talking in that soothing voice. “Who’s your Master, Kayla?”

  “Master Hank.” Kayla giggled, and the sound scraped against his nerves. Fuck, she sounded completely unbalanced, or on something.

  He heard movement in the room, light footsteps pacing back and forth. Then a soft sob from someone. Charlotte Smithson, probably.

  “Where’s Master Hank now?” Delia’s voice was still soothing but now there was an edge to it. A stressed edge. The eerie similarity between this and the bomb blast that had broken his arm last year, the one that had signaled the end of their relationship, wasn’t lost on him. The only difference was that it was Delia in harm’s way now, not him, and he didn’t like it one fucking bit.

  “I don’t know,” the girl wailed, her voice rising. “Master Hank said I was his slave and good Masters always beat their slaves. He said I liked it but I didn’t know it and if I went with that cop to the shelter, he didn’t want me as his slave anymore, and then he left.”

  Heavier footsteps now. Delia’s?

  “Why don’t you give me that? You don’t need it here. And if you really like being a slave, Master Gabriel can help you find a Master who knows how to treat one.”

  “Nooooo!” The vicious scream curdled his stomach. “It’s all Master Gabriel’s fault. He should’ve let us in. This is his fault!”

  Colin flicked a glance at McConnell, who’d gone dead white and looked about to vomit. He didn’t have time to coddle, just shoved his hand against McConnell’s chest to keep him from charging forward. “Go back to your office and call for help,” he said quietly but quickly. “Tell them Maryland Deputy Fire Marshal Colin Butler, badge number twenty sixty-five, says no lights and sirens, and we need fire equipment too.” McConnell looked as if he was going to argue, but Colin was having none of it. He shoved his chest again. “Go.”

  With one glance over his shoulder, McConnell disappeared around the corner, and Colin’s breath eased. One crisis averted. Next?

  Delia was still talking, her voice low and confiding. “What’d he do?”

  “He made us leave, and he called the cops. Master Hank got so mad. And all those people staring at us in the hallway. I didn’t like that. They don’t know Master Hank like I do. He loves me.”

  “It sounds like he does love you,” Delia said softly. “Why don’t you put down the gas can and give me the lighter and we can go find Master Gabriel and tell him he has to apologize to Master Hank and you?”

  Colin’s heart seized. Gas can? Lighter? Fuck, fuck, fuck. He hadn’t known what Delia kept asking Kayla to put down, but he’d figured knife or even gun. But this?

  No.

  “I don’t think so,” Kayla said, her voice a little firmer now, on the other side of manic. The calm side, which scared the shit out of him. They didn’t call it the calm before the storm for nothing.

  He heard footsteps again, and they sounded further away, so he risked a quick glance into the open door.

  Delia’s hand twitched against her thigh, and the small movement caught his attention. He took one more step and her hand moved quicker. Hand signals from last year’s op, rusty but obvious. Under control. Stay back.

  The same fucking signals he’d given her right before the blast had knocked him off his feet and thrown him into a wall, giving him a concussion and a broken arm.

  He took a quick scan but didn’t see Kayla. The Smithsons were on the sofa together, Jonah holding his wife protectively, her face buried against his shirt. He caught Jonah’s eyes and pointed at the restraints around Charlotte’s wrists, motioning to the clasp between them. The man blinked, looked over to the right and quietly unhooked them. He murmured into his wife’s ear, and pulled her closer. Good. Now at least they all had hands free if they needed to move.

  Delia made the signals again, then added one more. The last one wasn’t a hand signal from the op, it was a private one they’d used so no one would figure out what they were up to a year ago. American Sign Language letters I, L, Y.

  I love you.

  Footsteps moved closer, and he ducked back behind the door opening, but not before he got a whiff of gasoline. Jesus Christ, Kayla was pouring it out on the floor. He pictured the layout of the room, and with a sinking stomach, he realized she was making a circuit, trapping them inside the ring.

  The next move would be to set the whole thing on fire. Black spots danced in front of his eyes but he blinked them away. Not fucking now. He wasn’t going to lose it, and he wasn’t going to lose Delia. Not when he’d just found her again.

  “You don’t need to do this, Kayla,” Delia said, her voice still mostly calm with just that slight edge of stress. He was a goddamn mess, cold sweat slicking his skin, and she was handling the negotiating like a pro. He’d never been prouder of her or more in love with her, and she could die. Right here, while he did nothing.

  Air moved behind him and he looked over his shoulder to glare at Gabe McConnell, who handed him his weapon and holster. It had been in their locked room, but he wasn’t going to get all bent out of shape that McConnell had entered and gotten it. “Get out of here. She’s doused the room with gasoline and she’s got a lighter,” he hissed.

  Even though he was glad to have it, his weapon wouldn’t help. If Kayla held a lighter, he couldn’t take the chance she had it lit. If he shot her, she could drop it.

  Their best bet was Delia’s calm.

  With a barely imperceptible nod, McConnell stepped back out of the hallway, but before Colin could breathe a sigh of relief, he was back, two fire extinguishers in tow. “I have sprinklers in every room, but just in case,” he murmured.

  It was good thinking, because in all the other fires except for the club, the sprinklers and the security systems had been disabled. He didn’t know if she’d done it alone, or if Hank Whitcomb had helped. He hadn’t quite gotten a handle on the way this whole thing shook out, but it looked as though both of them were involved.

  Right no
w, though, his focus was all about Kayla and getting that lighter out of her hands.

  “I should go in there,” McConnell whispered. “See if I can calm her down.”

  “Bad idea. She blames you, and you could set her off.” A loose thought dropped into his brain. They still didn’t know where Hank Whitcomb was. “Do you have a weapon? I can’t go look for Whitcomb and take care of this at the same time. I need you outside.”

  McConnell’s face tightened and he looked as if he was about to argue, but finally, he nodded.

  “Watch your back. Keep your eyes open, but see if he’s lurking around the house. Keep him the fuck away from here.” He didn’t wait to see if McConnell followed his order or not, because Kayla was talking again.

  “Are you Master Gabriel’s slave?” the girl asked, and he assumed she was asking Delia. Christ, that was a loaded question. If Dee said yes, then she’d be an immediate target. If she said no, she was expendable.

  Dee played the middle of the road. “Master Gabriel doesn’t have a slave. I’m his friend. If you give him a chance, he can be yours too.”

  “I don’t have any friends of my own. Master Hank said that’s not allowed.” Her voice rose, slightly manic now. “Stay back! Don’t come any closer or I’ll drop this.”

  Shit, shit, shit. She was violently unstable, liable to be set off by any words, no matter what they were.

  “Okay,” Delia said, soothingly. “I’ll wait over here. Are you hungry? The food looks so good.”

  Food? She was talking about food? Delia was up to something. Light footsteps sounded, and his brain kicked into gear. The food. The buffet was on the far side of the room. She was creating an opening.

  Not even twenty seconds later, Jonah and Charlotte Smithson were hurrying out into the hallway. He urged them back toward the front of the house, out the door. “Go!” he ordered softly. “Down the driveway. Master Gabriel is out there, and there should be police there now. Hurry!”

  “Delia’s still—” Jonah murmured, but Colin cut him off.