by Avery Gale
Closing her eyes, she tried to visualize the scene in her mind, letting the sounds and smells flood her senses. Her mind had blocked some details, but watching it play out on the monitor had helped pull those bits and pieces back to the forefront.
“The motor was so loud, I could barely hear him, but I know he said something about brother and council.” Frowning she strained to pull it all back, but there was something just out of her reach. “Could you run it back, frame by frame?”
“Absolutely.” They restarted the video, and she leaned so far forward, she almost scooted herself off Juan’s knees.
“When is the last time you had your eyes checked, Cariña?” Waving him off, she wasn’t about to tell him how badly she needed the contacts they hadn’t given her time to put in before leaving the cabin. Yeah, you wouldn’t want to ride in a car with me driving right now, that’s for sure. A snort of laughter from her side made Lakyn turn in that direction. When the man stepped close enough for her to see him, she wanted to sink into the floor.
“How long have you been here?” She hadn’t intended for the question to sound so harsh, but she hated the thought he’d been listening in on her unmonitored thoughts.
“I’ve been standing here the entire time—something you would know if you were wearing your contacts. It’s not safe for you to go without them, you know, and I noted you didn’t have on a hat or sunglasses when you were tubing.”
What the hell? Does this guy work for the Wests or the Surgeon General? When he laughed, she felt her face flush.
“I work for the Wests although I’m sure the Surgeon General would agree that you should be wearing eye protection and sunscreen.”
I swear on my mother’s grave I’d slap him silly, but he’d know it was coming.
Trac cleared his throat, and when Lakyn looked at him, she was surprised to see him glaring at her. “I’m tired of hearing half of this conversation.” Pointing at Luke, he frowned, “Being a part of the team means you share the information.”
“What he really means is the Doms stick together and rat out the subs at every opportunity.” Lakyn didn’t even need to turn around to recognize Jen McCall’s voice.
“Rat out? Really, Jennifer?” Cam gave her a reproving look. “For a former diplomat, your vocabulary is seriously lacking.”
“Damn, you’re right. Snitch? Tattle? Narc? Help me out here, I’m out of my element.”
“You’re going to be out of your element if you don’t knock it off.” This time Lakyn did turn to the trio sitting directly behind her, just in time to see Sam McCall give his pretty wife a glacial look. Jen’s other husband was shaking his head as if he’d given up trying to keep her out of trouble.
“Lakyn,” Kyle West stepped forward and nodded to the monitor, “if you’ll try to ignore the troublemakers in the peanut gallery and re-focus your attention on the screen. I’d suggest you wear your contacts or glasses in the future as a safety precaution. Not only do you need to be able to protect yourself from abduction, it will probably help you avoid a paddling or two.” She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the laughter she heard all around her. Kyle shook his head and glared over her head. “Don’t let them bait you, Lakyn.”
“That’s it.” She felt her eyes widen as the piece of the puzzle she’d been trying to grasp popped into her head. “He said something about a council and called me bait. That was the word I heard just as I cut the rope.”
*
Juan escorted Lakyn into the kitchen where several of the other submissives were gathered around an elaborate spread that looked like they planned to feed an army.
“I don’t know who is responsible for the buffet, but I hope you take time to enjoy it while I drive down to the cabin and get your contacts.” He gave her a reprimanding look he hoped kept her from arguing. Juan might not be the strictest Dom at the club, but he wouldn’t let a challenge go unmet, especially one issued in front of other club members.
“Thank you. Everything I’ll need is in my purse.” A flash of unease reflected in her amazing eyes, but she shuttered it quickly, reminding him why her acting skills had made her a world-recognized celebrity.
“When is the last time you checked in with your manager, Cariña?” Even though he wasn’t anxious for her to return to work, he doubted she would be happy sitting back on her laurels for long.
“The day before I left. It seems odd he hasn’t been blowing up my phone. I know he isn’t a great manager, but he usually checks in regularly to update me on offers he’s screening or contracts he’s forwarding to my attorney. He also updates my calendar online, but ordinarily, calls to confirm I’ve seen his additions and changes.” When he cocked a brow at her in questions, she shrugged. “I had planned to take a month off, but after that short hiatus, I’m stacked for the next two years. After that I want to see where things lead.”
“Stacked?” Juan agreed that she was stacked, but he doubted her meaning was the same as his.
“Seven days a week. I won’t have more than a half day off for a little over two years.” He heard several of the women around them gasp, and he was equally surprised.
“Damn, girl, have you signed all those contracts already? Because I have to tell you, that’s just not healthy.” Tobi leaned on the counter beside Juan, and he appreciated the little fireball calling her friend out.
“Most of them are just verbal commitments at this point, so I may be able to pare it down some so I can work on my fashion line.”
“I thought the new fashion line was your passion? Why are you putting off your dream? Life’s too short to spend it doing something your heart isn’t in.” Damn, Juan needed to remember to send Tobi a huge bouquet of her favorite flowers for all her help. “I’ll bet you have a kazillion dollars stashed just in case, don’t you? You’re one of those people who plans themselves into a deep rut because something disrupted their life as a kid.” Tobi’s words brought a sheen of tears to Lakyn’s eyes, but she didn’t deny the assessment. Juan’s sisters had trained him well, and he recognized a good exit point when he saw one.
“I’ll be right back, Cariña. Listen to what your friends have to say, it’s always good to get the perspective of people who don’t stand to gain financially from your decisions. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Pressing a quick kiss to her lips, Juan sent Trac a quick text, letting him know he was heading back to the cabin. The terse note he received in return told him how close his friend was teetering to the edge of his control.
*
Trac was convinced his blood pressure was going to cause him to have a stroke any minute. Not only had someone tried to pull Lakyn off the street in New York, there had been another attempt today—this one intent on sending her brother a message, and it happened right under their noses. As a SEAL, Trac had always understood, at the end of the day, his job was to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves, and he couldn’t remember a time he felt like more of a failure.
The biggest draw for him as a sexual Dominant wasn’t the sex, it was the intense connection between him and the submissive who gifted him with her trust. His desire to protect Lakyn was exponentially greater than anything he’d ever felt before, and seeing that damned video play over and over, highlighting how close they’d come to losing her had been a test he wasn’t prepared for.
The driver had been a pro—he’d known exactly what he was doing, and his calculations for the timing and arc it would take to throw Lakyn into the jagged rockface wall had been dead on. The only mistake he’d made was underestimating the woman. Thank God Sam McCall had insisted each of the women had a way to cut herself free should her lifejacket become entangled in hooks on the tube or in the brush both above and below the surface of the fast-moving water.
Kyle West leaned back in his enormous leather office chair and frowned. “It pisses me off we allowed these fuckers to bring this bullshit to our door.” Every man in the room froze. While Kyle wasn’t above cursing, it was unusual to hear him lace a single senten
ce with so much colorful language. Even his brother seemed surprised. Rolling his eyes, Kyle chuckled, “Christ, have I become such a pansy-ass you’re all speechless when I cuss?”
“Yeah, pretty much, extra emphasis on the pansy part.” Kent’s grin was contagious, and Trac felt the tension in his muscles begin to ebb away. Leaning close to him, Kent grasped his shoulder. “We’ll keep her safe, brother. They overplayed their hand, and we’ve already got a lead on the driver.” Trac looked over at his friend and boss, waiting for more information, but Kent nodded toward Kyle.
“Our groundwork is paying off in spades, we’ve got a solid lead on the prick behind the wheel. It seems he’s a merc and isn’t choosy about who he works for. The guy at the boat rental company is a friend of ours, and he was more than happy to provide us with their security footage. Between Micah and Phoenix, we had a name within minutes. James Cox is his real name, but his list of aliases is as long as your damned arm.” Trac knew Phoenix Morgan and Micah Drake had developed a kick-ass facial recognition program and was thrilled they were using it to help identify Lakyn’s assailant. Maybe with a little luck, they could place the guy in New York as well.
“The alias list is a prereq for a mercenary.” Kent’s nonchalant shrug earned him a glare from Kyle.
“I’m waiting to talk to Cooper—hopefully, he’ll have some idea who is targeting Lakyn. Cam arranged Coop’s travel home, and he’s due to arrive late tonight. We’re hoping to get him onsite before his handler knows he is no longer in London.” What Kyle wasn’t saying was almost as clear as what he’d said.
Jen McCall pushed away from the window where she’d been standing and asked, “Am I the only one who thinks we might be dealing with two factions?” She seemed torn about whether she should continue, but a quick nod from Sam was all the encouragement she’d needed. “We’ve all worked for Uncle Sam, and I think we’ll all agree the government often does things we don’t necessarily agree with. But intentionally kidnapping a U.S. citizen or slinging a woman into a rock wall seems like a stretch even for the C.I.A.” Trac agreed, but the look on Cam’s face wasn’t encouraging. Fucking hell.
Chapter Twelve
Lakyn listened as Tobi, Gracie, and Mia all encouraged her to rethink her two-year plan. Their arguments were solid, but it was going to take a while for her heart to catch up with their logic. Tobi set her tablet on the counter between them and quickly brought up the sketches Lakyn had sent during their conversations.
“Look at these, Gracie. Our friend is damned talented, and I’d love to see what she could come up with for club wear because these are already edgy.”
The women fussed over the designs, and Lakyn felt herself being drawn into their enthusiasm for the breadth of possibilities if she expanded her portfolio. Knowing Tobi and Gracie would help her get the exposure she’d need in the specialty market of fet-wear was a huge plus. Gracie grabbed Lakyn’s forearm and gave it a reassuring squeeze. The pretty Latino woman took a sip of her wine and turned to Lakyn, a question dancing in her eyes.
“What will your brother say if you start designing dresses with cutouts that allow a woman’s nipples to show? Is he a prude? Prudes don’t usually appreciate much about the lifestyle.” The pretty woman’s eyes were beginning to glaze over, and Lakyn laughed when Gracie’s loud hiccup seemed to surprise her.
“Great, my business partner is toasted. Real nice, Gracie. Way to be compassionate to those of us who can’t,” Tobi’s eyes darted around the room, and she quickly amended, “I mean, those of us who don’t actually like wine.” Winking at Lakyn, she turned her attention to the bottle of water in her hand and frowned.
“I’m glad Cooper wasn’t badly hurt. Have you heard from him, Lakyn?” Mia’s words were slightly slurred, and Lakyn might have found it amusing if she hadn’t been so shocked by what her friend had said. When she didn’t respond, Mia looked at Tobi and flinched. “Shit. I’m really no good at all this spy stuff. I need to stick with pictures. Despite that damned saying about pictures being worth a thousand words, they really don’t talk. Pickle fudge, I’m going to be in so much trouble.”
Lakyn didn’t say a word and didn’t want to put her friends in the unenviable position of being forced to lie to her, so she simply turned on her heel and headed back to the Wests’ office. It wasn’t far, but her transformation from recovering victim and target to pissed off celebrity had taken place between one heartbeat and the next. Knocking once, she didn’t wait for an invitation before walking into the room with her head held high, shoulders back, and steam rolling out her ears.
All eyes turned to her as she marched through the room, but the only person who said anything was Luke Grayson. His quickly whispered, “Oh shit” was the only thing she heard until she let Trac see how betrayed she felt, then turned her frosty glare on Kyle West.
“Where is my brother, and what’s happened to him?” Kyle stood and started to move around his desk, but she put up her hand, stilling his movement. “Let me be crystal clear here, Mr. West, you are no longer dealing with the shaken woman who slid ashore on Mr. Barnes property. You’re dealing with a very pissed off sister who has the patience of a provoked rattlesnake when she’s being yanked around. I deal with people trying to blow smoke up my ass all the time, so don’t even try to placate me.” When Trac stood and moved closer, she used the same hand to halt his advance as well.
“Don’t. Just don’t.” She was so angry, she was practically vibrating with it and could feel tears beginning to pool in her eyes. She cursed under her breath at the wave of emotion building so fast, it was threatening to break her into a thousand pieces.
The room was deathly quiet, and no one appeared to be prepared to answer her question until Jen McCall looked around the room and shook her head.
“I tried to tell you this was going to happen. You can’t play it like this with intelligent women. Damn.” Shifting her attention to Lakyn, Jen met her gaze without flinching. “Your brother is fine, Lakyn. He got worked over, night before last, but he was checked out before hopping a plane and heading here. He’ll be here later tonight.”
Lakyn fell back into a chair, feeling like a puppet whose strings had been cut. The flood of relief knowing Cooper was all right had been more than her trembling knees could stand. It took her a few seconds to pull in enough oxygen to push back the black dots dancing in her vision. She stood again before anyone could move to her side and once again, faced the men she felt had misled her.
“Tobi told me several times how important honesty was at the Prairie Winds Club… how critical communication… honest communication was to a successful D/s relationship.” She took a couple steadying breaths before continuing. When she looked up, Juan was standing in the doorway. The stricken look on his face almost stole her resolve, but she turned her attention back to the Wests and Cameron Barnes.
“Respect is a two-way street, gentlemen, and trust is earned. Don’t ask for something you aren’t willing to give. I have to wonder if you really are friends with Cooper because I’ve never known him to spend time with anyone whose integrity I believed could be called into question.” She saw them flinch, but none of them voiced an argument.
Turning to Jen, she asked, “Can you please give me a ride into Austin? I’ll find a motel room there until I can see my brother. Then I’ll catch a flight back to New York. At least there, I know I’m dealing with deception, so I’m prepared for it.”
Chapter Thirteen
Juan felt like he’d been kicked in the gut. He’d tried to warn the team they were making a mistake, but he’d been overruled, and now, she wanted to leave. When he started forward, Sage McCall caught his shirt sleeve in his beefy hand and gave a quick shake of his head.
“Wait. Let Jen help. She may be a wild child at heart, but it’s a heart of pure fucking gold—watch and learn.” Juan didn’t like having his fate in someone else’s hands, but the emptiness he’d seen in Lakyn’s eyes when she’d looked his way told him he didn’t have anything to lose.<
br />
“Before you make a decision, let’s go down to the gym. When I’m pissed off at the world, I like to vent… sometimes it keeps me from digging myself into a hole I have to ask for help to escape. And damn it all to hell, it frosts my cookies to have to ask the people responsible for my snit for help.”
Juan saw Lakyn’s shoulders relax marginally as Jen led her from the room. He watched as the two women strolled down the long path toward the onsite training facility, noting Jen had walked right past several motorized carts—smart girl, she was using the distance to buy time. God love her compassionate soul.
“Don’t forget, our hot wife worked for the State Department, once a diplomat, always a diplomat. One of the great things about being the second-in-command to a boss who didn’t do diddly squat, she learned to negotiate. Hell, by this time tomorrow, she’ll have talked her way into renegotiating Lakyn’s contracts and the lease on her apartment.”
“Sage is right. Tobi loves to take Jen in as a ringer when she is sealing a deal with a new club. Don’t get me wrong, Tobi and Gracie built a phenomenally successful business from the ground up, but Jen has helped them refine their skills to the point I expect Wall Street to show up any day, asking the three of them to conduct training seminars.” Kyle’s smile reflected his pride in his wife’s success and his respect for the fact they’d done it on their own. Juan remembered hearing his bosses bragging that Tobi and Gracie had been adamant in their refusal to take any financial help from their husbands.
Turning his attention to Trac, Juan glared at his best friend. “I told you. I fucking told you it was a mistake to leave her out of the loop. You can’t play those games with smart women.” Looking around the room with pointed looks, Juan waved his arm sweeping them all up in his frustration. “You all have wives who would take you apart if you pulled this shit with them, and yet you set us up for a fall without blinking. Why? Because you wanted to bring Cooper Hicks in without any interference from the one person who cares more about him than anyone else? Fucking hell.”