Oak, Sophie - Siren Reborn [Texas Sirens 8] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Sophie Oak

  The car was upside down, its wheels in the air like a turtle trapped on its back. It appeared that the top of the car had partially caved in. Mason had been in that car. He’d been driving one moment and the next he’d nearly died.

  “Holy shit.” Cole leaned forward. “How did you survive?”

  “He had his seat belt on,” Darin commented. “If he hadn’t, he almost certainly would be dead. He was hit on his right side as he went over one of the steepest embankments in the city. Normally the car in front causes a sideswipe like this because the driver’s sight line has been impaired. You see, there’s a blind spot….”

  Mason nodded. “Yeah, I think every kid who ever went to driver’s ed knows about that, but I wasn’t switching lanes. I actually needed the exit ahead of me, the one for 75. It’s a left exit so I wasn’t even thinking about moving to the right.”

  “The witness said as much. There was a truck driver behind you. He was the one who called the ambulance. Several people stopped to help. He saw the car that hit you move into your lane. Unless the driver was blind, there’s no way they could have missed seeing your car. Several of the witnesses described the driver of the car in question as aggressive,” Darin explained. “The driver didn’t even try to stop.”

  “The driver could have been texting,” Cole pointed out.

  Darin frowned. “I don’t like it. Something doesn’t feel right. The witness only got the plate number, but it was a fake. The vehicle that hit you was an SUV, but the plate is registered to a minivan. We found the van along with the mom and three kids who drive around in it all day.”

  “That tells us next to nothing,” Mason said. “Fake plates are easy enough to buy off certain sites. Especially if you know where to look. Fuck.”

  Mason went pale, as if he’d figured something out.

  Kitten looked at him, taking in the hard lines of his face. “A criminal hit your car?”

  “What kind of cases have you been taking on, Mason?” Cole asked soberly.

  Kitten didn’t like the sound of that. “You think one of his clients is angry with him?”

  “Oh, sweetheart, I have any number of people who could be angry with me. In the last couple of years, I’ve been defending some, well, some unsavory clients,” Mason admitted. “I’m actually a little surprised that Darin’s here. I kind of thought you wouldn’t give a crap if someone wants to kill me.”

  Darin’s eyes hardened slightly, looking more like the Dom she knew him to be. “Lawyers like you are a necessary evil, Mason. Everyone deserves a defense. Our justice system doesn’t work without it. I won’t let my distaste for your clientele stop me from doing my job. But this is as far as I can go. This isn’t my department and the cops working the case think it was just an accident and the driver fled because they had something to hide. They’re going to poke around a little and move on. I disagree with them. Something about this gets my back up. Call it instinct, but I’ve been on the job for ten years. My instincts are pretty damn good. I thought I would let you know so if you want to put the Dawson brothers on it, you can.”

  The snort that came from Mason could only be described as snarky. “Yes, I’ll get right on hiring a set of private detectives who make more on a single case than I make in a year.”

  Cole stood up, reaching his hand out. “Thank you, Darin. If you hear anything else, we would love to know about it. We’ll get someone looking in on it as soon as possible.”

  Darin stood as well, shaking Cole’s hand, his eyes moving warily to Mason. “All right. Just be careful. If he was gunning for you, he might take another shot.”

  She didn’t like the way it felt either. There was something about Mason that called to her. She understood him. She might not know his whole story, but she certainly understood what it meant to feel alone in the world. He could put on a good front, but that was what he seemed to be—alone.

  She trusted her instincts and she certainly trusted Darin’s. And it wasn’t like the Dawson brothers didn’t owe her. She’d been instrumental in their wife accepting them. Ben was the weak link. She needed to get Ben on her side because while he was the weak link, he was also not anywhere near the investigator his brother was. Chase was Sherlock Holmes, but with several undiagnosed personality disorders.

  Ooooh, Leo and Wolf owed her as well. Wolf was a former Navy SEAL who worked security for Julian. She’d saved their wife by forcing her to swallow a GPS locator that was attached to Kitten’s collar. It had been hidden in a pretty charm that they hadn’t even given back. Surely that was worth some investigating time.

  “Has she zoned out again?” Mason was asking.

  “I don’t think so. I think she’s plotting. I always thought she was just a little spacey, but there’s a glimmer in her eyes. It kind of scares me.” Cole was watching her intently.

  She smiled. It was silly but she liked how they were looking at her. There was a deep trepidation in Master Cole’s eyes and a sort of breathless anticipation in Master Mason’s, as though he would deeply enjoy any chaos she wrought. It sparked her inner brat and made her want to play. “I’m just thinking. I want to call Master Ben.”

  Cole snorted a little. “Brat. You think he’s the weak link.”

  Well, at least they thought along the same lines. “He is. Master Chase is very difficult. I believe Master Chase often has his mansies, and he’s terribly irrational during his time.”

  Mason coughed and covered his mouth.

  Cole’s eyebrows rose. “What is she saying?”

  Mason coughed again, obviously trying to regain his composure. “I believe she’s talking about male menses. I think she’s accusing that big bastard of having his monthly.”

  Cole stopped, his face shutting down for a second. Oh, she’d been right to hide that bratty part of herself. She shouldn’t have said something bad about a Master. Certainly not her former Master. She should have been respectful. Polite. It was how to get on in the world.

  And then a booming laugh seemed to reverberate through the room. Master Cole threw his head back and laughed and laughed. His face went the tiniest bit red as he let go. It was quite a lovely thing to see.

  Master Mason was laughing, too, though he grimaced and held his head. “Don’t do that again, sweetheart. At least not until I’m healed.”

  Cole leaned over and the sweetest kiss brushed her forehead. Precious. It made her feel beloved. “You are so right about Chase Dawson. That is a man with manstruel issues. But he’s also the one we need to hire to look into this.”

  Mason stopped. “I can’t afford him.”

  “You’re not paying for him, Mason.” Cole slung an arm around her shoulder. “I am. And you’re not leaving here until a doctor okays it. So relax. Do we have dinner coming, baby?”

  He’d never called her baby before. He’d never called her anything but Kitten or pet. She fought back tears because being someone’s baby was meaningful. It meant she belonged. Like being someone’s sweetheart. Mason called her that.

  She knew it was dumb. She knew it was too soon. And it didn’t matter. So many things had been bad that she kept clinging to the good things. Even when they let her down, she just looked for the next one. She might die someday still hoping for something good to happen, but she would hope.

  It was funny when she thought about it. Her parents had taken her to church after church. Some good. Those were the ones they ran the fastest from. Some bad. But she figured that wasn’t God’s fault. When she’d been held and tortured and raped, that hadn’t been God’s fault either. God had sent her Nat and Finn and maybe, just maybe God had sent her Cole and Mason, too. All those years and all that pain and she still believed. She still had faith.

  Cole reached out, his hand on her cheek. “Sweetheart, you’re crying. Are you all right?”

  He didn’t understand that sometimes it was so good to cry. She could do it now without a spanking, without pain. She could let herself feel and she owed Julian and Finn and Leo and Ben and Chase and Logan for
that great gift. She gave Cole a smile. “I’m fine, Mast…Sir. I’m actually quite happy.”

  His eyes softened. “I want you to know that makes me happy, baby. I will do a lot to keep it that way.”

  She felt Mason’s hand on her shoulder. Surrounded by Masters. Yes, that was a nice place to be.

  Chapter Six

  Mason couldn’t quite shake the feeling of déjà vu as he sat down in the dining room an hour later. There were three place settings, and the food from the Chinese place had naturally been removed from the takeout boxes and placed in good China serving bowls. Heaven forbid they eat like animals.

  That had been Mrs. Hamilton’s doing. She’d brought the dishes with her nose in the air as though the food stank to high heaven when it smelled like pure pleasure to him.

  “I had a perfectly good roast,” she muttered under her breath. “I suppose this is your doing.”

  Mrs. Hamilton had never liked him. She hadn’t liked him as a kid and she seemed to have kept her prejudice.

  “I believe you will find it’s Mr. Chow’s doing,” he said with a smirk because he’d never once been able to simply deflect. When someone nudged him, he nudged back. He couldn’t stand a bully. “Really, you should take up all your complaints with him.”

  She turned to him, her rheumy eyes narrowed. “You have no right walking back into this house. You should be in jail.”

  Ah, there it was. The lovely dulcet tones of guilt. “And you should be in an asylum because you’re a crazy old bitch.”

  “Mason!”

  Just the sound of Cole’s voice sent a shiver down Mason’s spine and not a spooky one. Nope. That shiver went straight to his dick because it was the tone Cole used right before he dealt out the punishment.

  “I’m sorry, Mas…” Habit was a bitch. “She started it.”

  Cole shook his head, but there was no way to miss the little uptick of his lips before he turned all Dommy and cold again. “Very mature, Mason. Mrs. Hamilton, that will be all for the evening.”

  “He can’t stay here. He has to leave.” Mrs. Hamilton pointed a bony finger Mason’s way.

  Cole turned those cold eyes on his housekeeper. “Mrs. Hamilton, I was not aware that the ownership of this house had transferred to you.”

  She seemed to shrink a bit as though she understood she’d pushed the Master too far. Her steel gray head shook. “I didn’t mean it that way, Master Cole. I only meant that there is no possible way you could want him here. You loved Emily. You couldn’t want him here.”

  A shadow passed across Cole’s face, the past playing out again in guilt Cole obviously still felt. “I said that will be all, Mrs. Hamilton.”

  She strode from the room, muttering under her breath.

  “I’m sorry about that. You know how she felt about Emily,” Cole said, shaking it off.

  “Yes.” He watched her go. “I certainly do.”

  Being back in this place was doing odd things to his emotions. He’d kind of thought he’d left emotions back in the dust a long time ago. He’d gone through all those stages of grief. At first he hadn’t been able to believe that Cole was gone. He’d called daily and begged for forgiveness. He hadn’t even understood why he’d really needed forgiveness, but he’d been so lost that he was willing to offer Cole anything so he would just talk.

  Then they had talked and Mason had moved right to rage. That had been the good part. He’d enjoyed that. He was a little ashamed of the bargaining he’d done. One phone call in the middle of the night when he was drunk off his ass, he’d begged Cole to take him back. Of course, he’d had to leave that rambling mess on his voice mail. He’d woken up the next morning and there had been no call back. A year’s worth of depression had led to finally accepting that this was his life now.

  Or maybe he hadn’t moved on because he felt like he was right back to rage as Cole took his place at the head of the table.

  Smug bastard. He still had everything. He had the money, the company, the girl. He’d just moved on as though Mason had never mattered.

  There was an oppressive silence that filled the elegant dining room. Kitten wasn’t here yet to mediate, to bring her unique sunshine into their gloom.

  “Is your head feeling any better?” Cole asked solicitously.

  Oh, they were going to be polite now, were they? He could do polite. He would very politely steal Cole’s girl right out from under him. “It aches a bit, but I’m fine. I always land on my feet.”

  Cole’s jaw tightened. “So where are you living now? I’m surprised you didn’t stay in that apartment I found for you.”

  Of course. Cole had hired a real estate agent to find Mason an apartment when he kicked him out. “Shockingly enough, I couldn’t afford it.”

  “Because you lost your job.” Cole seemed to be trying to wrap his big brain around that one. “Why didn’t you find a new one?”

  “Are you serious? If there was one thing I always admired about you, it was that you owned up to the things you did, Cole.” There had been a time when he admired everything about his Master. From his strong good looks to his solid morals, Cole Roberts had been everything to him. Like most things in Mason’s life, Cole had turned out to be an illusion. Mason had learned a few very valuable truths about life. People put up with him for a while. They liked to fuck him, to use him, to show him off, but in the end he always proved unworthy of lifetime affection.

  “What exactly is it you think I’ve done?” So calm. Cole was so calm, as though this was merely an academic discussion.

  “You blackballed me. I interviewed with every firm in the city and three in Houston.” He remembered sitting in the beautiful apartment that overlooked downtown and realizing the trap he’d been caught in. He’d packed up and walked out that day. It was better to start living the way he would be forced to than to hold on. He’d found a one bedroom on the outskirts of the city and a year later, he couldn’t even afford that.

  “I certainly did not. Mason, I never even received a call about a reference. I would have been unbiased had I been asked. I would merely have talked about your proficiencies as a lawyer.”

  “You weren’t taking my calls. I didn’t put you down as a reference.”

  Cole sighed a bit and drew his napkin across his lap. “Then you should have used Julian. Come to think of it, why didn’t you call Finn? His firm would surely have hired you.”

  “Your friends, Cole. Yours. I doubt they would give me the time of day. Julian tried to call me, but I wasn’t about to sit and listen to him kick me out of The Club.” He’d called back and left a nasty message with Julian’s secretary explaining that he wouldn’t be returning. Sometimes it was better to torch a bridge before it burned him.

  Pride. He had to maintain some small piece of his pride. It had become necessary for his survival.

  It was why he was sitting here, looking at Cole and telling himself that it was all for revenge. He didn’t feel at home again. He didn’t enjoy looking at Cole. He was simply going to have his revenge on the man and then they could be done.

  It didn’t matter that every inch of this house held some memory for him, from the front door where he would kiss Cole good-bye every morning because the bastard always went in earlier than the sun, to the pool house where they’d first made love in the bed he was supposed to sleep in tonight.

  No. Instead he held on to that moment in Colorado when he’d reached out, begging his love to help him, and he’d been turned away.

  Revenge was all that mattered now.

  “They were your friends, too,” Cole replied. “It was why I never explained myself to them. I didn’t want to poison your relationships. It didn’t seem fair.”

  Mason wasn’t going to buy that one. “But it was all right to tell every firm in town that if they hired me, you wouldn’t work with them?”

  “Mason, I never did that. I would never have done that. I have spent the last two years certain that you were working away at your office and living in the apartment t
he realtor found.” He cleared his throat a little, his eyes sliding away. “Or that you had found another Dom and were living under his roof.”

  “You mean sugar daddy, don’t you, Cole?” He couldn’t stop himself. He needed to be calm and cool. He needed to flirt with the fucker, to pretend that all was forgiven between them, but he couldn’t seem to stop needling him.

  The fire was back in Cole’s eyes and the ice in his tone. The Dom had stepped back in the room. “No. That is not what I meant.”

  “But that’s what you were. That’s what you like to be.”

  “Mason, if you don’t…” Cole’s eyes went wide, his stare going to someplace behind Mason’s head.

  Mason turned and realized why Cole had stopped in his tracks. Holy fuck. Kitten was standing in the doorway and she wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing apart from the collar around her neck. In the low light from the overhead chandelier, her skin was glowing and luminous. She was slender, but womanly. No way that gorgeous girl got mistaken for a guy. Her hair flowed over her shoulders, just reaching her breasts. Firm and tipped with perky pink nipples, they peeked through her glossy tresses like treasures waiting to be found and devoured.

  Her stomach was gently curved and those hips flowed into graceful legs.

  His mouth watered at the sight of her perfectly groomed pussy. It probably tasted as sweet as she looked. It had been forever, for fucking ever, since he’d licked and sucked and loved a pussy. He liked sucking Cole’s cock, but damn he loved to dive into a sweet cunt.

  His head started to hurt again, likely because all his blood seemed to have rushed straight to his cock.

  “Kitten?” Cole’s face had flushed, his eyes wide.

  Kitten grinned, the smile lighting up the room. She was one of those girls who glowed, her sweet nature shining through. Mason loved those girls, tended to worship the ground they walked on. Would she still glow when she realized he’d used her to get back at her Master?

  Mason shoved the thought away. When they were done here, he would take care of her in a way Cole couldn’t. He would never shove her away for some perceived weakness. No. He would be her kind and loving Master. He would be better for her than Cole.