by Henry, Jane
“Right.” She rolls her eyes. “It sure feels like the right fucking thing, doesn’t it? Maybe I should have let him rape me. Maybe then I’d still have a job.”
I draw in a deep breath. I’m trying to be patient. I’m trying to be understanding. This cost her a lot more than it cost me in so many ways. She didn’t just lose her job. She lost some of that precious innocence which is so hard to hold onto as an adult.
“You’ll find another job.”
“I want to be an FBI agent! It’s all I’ve ever wanted!” She snaps at me. “You don’t get it. They didn’t fire you, because you’ve got a dick.”
“They didn’t fire me, because I’m not a rookie who pushed my way into a dangerous job, got myself kidnapped, and shot the suspect.”
“Sure,” she shouts. “Throw that in my face, why don’t you. Real nice, O’Connell. Really fucking nice.”
She gets up and slams the chair into the table. She’s on the verge of throwing a very grown up, very little girl temper tantrum.
I grab her by the arm before she can find something to throw. I can see the anger building in her, the rageful red of her cheeks, the narrow set of her eyes.
“You’ve got to stop this,” I say as calmly as possible. “I know you’re angry and upset. I know you don’t think this is fair, but it’s what’s happening.”
“My life is fucking over,” she swears, her eyes welling with frustrated tears.
“It isn’t. It’s only beginning.”
“Right. Maybe the CIA will have me. Or fuck it, the military will take me, probably.”
“You are not going into the field,” I remind her.
“You can’t stop me.”
“I can, and I will.”
She looks me up and down with bitter eyes. “Everything is so easy for you, isn’t it, Colt. You just snap your fingers and the world falls into place. You think you own me…”
“I do own you.” I interrupt her tirade with the calm sentence. She needs to hear it. She needs to know nothing has changed between us.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“What happened in that basement was real. What happened between us hasn’t gone away,” I tell her. “You’re mine. And if you don’t stop swearing, I’ll wash your mouth out again, young lady.”
“Fuck you!”
I know she’s not really angry at me. She’s angry at herself. At what was taken from her. Her career. Her innocence. She sacrificed everything she valued to get Brava.
And now I’m going to wash her mouth out, because she needs it.
I take her by the hand and lead her to the sink. She curses and struggles and acts the brat, but she needs this. Order has to be established. I have been keeping a bar of soap next to the sink, knowing this would come up sooner or later.
“No!” She storms and stomps, writhing in my grasp.
“Yes,” I say firmly, wrangling her into place.
“No! You’re not the boss of me!”
But I am. And we both know it. She’s testing me because she’s scared, because the rest of the order in her life has evaporated. She doesn’t know what to do with herself, but I’ll show her. I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her back against my body. She’s wriggling and squirming as I pick up the soap. This is going to be messy, but necessary.
In the midst of her struggles she kicks out, the back of her heel catching my left shin. Ordinarily it wouldn’t do anything to me, but with a healing burn there, I wince and let out a hiss, my grip loosening enough for her to turn around and stare in horror.
“Oh shit! Colt! I’m sorry!” She’s immediately apologetic. “Fuck, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
“Keep both your feet on the ground and open your mouth,” I say. The pain coursing through me doesn’t matter. I have to be strong for her. I have to show her she still has a boss, even if she doesn’t have a job.
She opens her mouth obediently, probably more out of guilt than any desire to please me, but I’ll take what I can get. I slip the soap in, make sure it lathers over her tongue before pulling it out again. It’s quick, but it will leave a bitter taste in her mouth and I have no intention of letting her spit. She can foam, and she can drool, but she’ll keep that taste until I say otherwise.
And I am far from done with her yet.
There are tears in her eyes as I sit down in the chair she vacated to start tantruming at me, pull her over my knee and start spanking her butt. I don’t pull her pants down. I don’t bare her ass. I spank her like the little brat she is, with firm, but not hard swats designed to tell her she’s safe with me. I’m still here, and I’m looking after her.
“Ow! Goddamnit, Colt! This hurts!”
It doesn’t hurt anywhere near as much as it could. It probably doesn’t hurt anywhere near as much as it should. Her whining is just another attempt to get control she doesn’t really want.
I grasp the dark skeins of hair and pull her head back so I can lean down to lecture her in her ear, my palm firmly splayed across her warm bottom.
“You’re mine,” I growl. “How far do you need me to go to prove that, little girl?”
I feel a shiver run through her body, a tremor which is followed by a soft sigh of something like relaxation. The muscles of her body which were so hard a moment ago loosen up and she drapes elegantly over my thighs, rather than being a stiff little brat.
“I’m scared,” she whimpers. “Even more now than I was when he had me…”
“I know,” I murmur, rubbing her bottom. I’ve given her pain and I’ve given her pleasure. Now it’s time to give her what makes both of those things mean something—my care and my commitment.
“What if I never…” she makes a little hiccupping sound. “What if they send me to jail?”
“That’s not going to happen,” I say. “You acted in self-defense. You did nothing wrong.”
“Then why did they fire me?”
My chest tightens as she wails the question. The answer isn’t palatable. She was fired because life isn’t fair, and because following the rules is preferable to doing the right thing. She’s a little maverick. She broke every protocol we have. Of course they fired her.
“Because they couldn’t handle you,” I say, honest as I can be. “Because you stepped so far outside the boundaries that there wasn’t any coming back. You did a good thing, Sonya. But sometimes good people pay big prices for doing the right thing.”
She lets out another sob. I release her hair and sweep her up into my lap, cuddling her close as she cries foamy tears. I don’t know if she’s even noticing the soap anymore. She’s a dribbly little mess, and she deserves a medal for what she went through. Instead she got a letter of termination.
“It’s going to be alright, sweetheart,” I reassure her. “You still have me. You’re always going to have me.”
She nuzzles into my neck, sobbing her heart out. All I can do is hold her. Let her know that she’ll always have me here. An uncomfortable feeling is starting to sink through my body—in addition to the searing ache in my shin where she kicked me. Sonya’s a little firecracker. She’s smart. She’s brave. She’s all the things an agent should be.
I want her to be my sweet little housewife. I want to marry her. I want to have a family with her. I want to grow old with her. I want a house with a white picket fence. I want us both to look at our lawn and say how nice it is. I want all the things people scoff at as being too boring before they realize how brutal life can be without the little moments of domesticity. But I’m not sure that’s going to be enough for her.
As she nuzzles and cries, I take out my phone and send a text message.
C: Rico. Can we talk?
R: What is it?
C: Sonya. Is there any possible way back for her?
There’s a long pause, and I’m half worried he’s not going to reply.
R: No.
Fuck. Maybe it would have been better if he didn’t.
“Can I rinse my mouf out?
”
The question is too adorable not to say yes to. I take her by the hand and I ease her off my lap and walk her back to the sink where she rinses and splutters and then cuts her eyes at me.
“You’ve got to stop doing that.”
“You’ve got to stop swearing at me to see if I will.”
She glowers at me for another thirty seconds, then I see an impish smirk coming up through the sadness. “Yeah. I guess you’re right,” she admits. “But some things are swear-worthy. This situation is swear-worthy for sure.”
I pull her back into a hug. “I know.”
“I just… I know I did wrong,” she mumbles against my chest. “We both did. Everyone in that situation did wrong. But I’m the only one who seems to be in trouble.”
“It’s going to work out,” I say, stroking her hair back from her head. “I promise. You’re going to be happy again. You’re going to have a career you love. This is a temporary setback. That’s all it is.”
“Except you won’t let me back in the field again, like ever.”
“You were almost tortured, raped, and murdered.” The words are harsh, but they have to be said. Because what happened to her was bad, and what might happen in the future could be worse. “Do you really want to go back into the field after that?”
“I don’t know. I just. I’ve been fucking cut out…”
I raise a brow.
“I mean, I’ve been cut out,” she corrects herself. “And I don’t think I would have been if I had a dick. I think I’d be down at a bar right now and everyone would be telling me what a madman I was and how fucking cool I am. I’d get my ass chewed out in the office, but the boss would buy the first round at the bar.”
I let that last bit of cursing slide. She’s passionate, and she’s right. I’ve turned down three invitations to go out for drinks because I want to be here for her. A lot of people are already attributing Brava’s death to me, not Sonya. She’s not getting any of the credit she deserves, and she’s taking the heat for both of us. They fire her. They keep me. I’ve been trying to rationalize it, but hell, she’s right. This isn’t fair at all.
“Hey,” I say, giving her a quick cuddle. “Why don’t you go grab a shower and get dressed. I’ll take you out. We’ll get lunch.”
“Yeah,” she says semi-miserably. “Alright.”
She goes to the shower. I send another text message.
C: If she’s not coming back, neither am I. Thanks for everything, Rico. Will send my formal letter in later today.
I don’t get a response. Fair enough. Maybe there’s nothing else to say.
A thump at my door about two minutes later makes me think I might have been wrong. I open it to find Rico standing there, glaring at me. For a second, I halfway feel like the rookie I used to be all those years ago. Rico’s eyes have a way of cutting through you, and when he clenches his jaw, it has an imposing effect.
“What the hell are you playing at, O’Connell?”
“Hi, Rico,” I say calmly. “Come on in.”
He strides into my place and stands there making everything else look small.
“What the hell was that text you just sent?”
“You were in the area I guess,” I say with a smile. Rico hates tech. Likes to do everything in person. I have a feeling he’s been on his way here since I sent the first messages.
“I can tell when you’re about to do something stupid, O’Connell,” he says. “And this is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. What do you mean, you quit?”
“Listen,” I say, keeping my voice calm and reasonable, so he knows I’m not pitching some kind of fit. “I understand why you made the decision you did with Sonya. I’d make the same decision myself. But she has the makings of a hell of an agent if she has someone to rein her in.”
“And that would be you, would it? The same guy who stole a car to go get her?”
He makes it sound like I was picking her up from the mall, not rescuing her from a dangerous, murderous sadist.
“Agents don’t steal cars, they commandeer them.”
He snorts at me. “I know why you like her, O’Connell. It’s because she’s you, but in a female package.”
“Package is a good word,” I agree. “Think of us like a package deal.”
He grunts. I know he doesn’t like this. It’s a risk pushing Rico. He’s not the sort to be pushed around or bullied. But that’s not what I’m trying to do. I’m serious. If Sonya goes, I’ll go too. And not out of petulant spite. I’ll go because she’s going to need me to be there for her as she sorts herself out. I can’t leave her here in my apartment and go to work all day and expect there not to be chaos when I get back.
“You’re asking a hell of a lot from me, O’Connell,” he says. “You’re still in the shit too.”
“Put us both on desk duty,” I say. “Do whatever you have to do. Bury us under half a ton of old cold cases. But give me as much shit as she’s getting and bring her back.”
“You know you’re too valuable a field agent,” Rico growls. “This is blackmail.”
“No, it isn’t. This is me standing up for my partner.”
“She’s not your partner. She’s some rookie who didn’t listen to a damn thing and…” he goes off on a tirade. The same tirade I would have gone on if I was on his side of things.
“That won’t ever happen again,” I interrupt when he takes a breath.
“And how can you promise me that?”
“Uhm… hi?” Sonya appears in the doorway. The raised voice must have carried. She must have heard everything he just said about her. Irresponsible. Uncontrollable. Danger to herself and others. All of which are, in some ways, absolutely true.
She’s fresh out of the shower, wearing a pristine white, what do they call those things she’s wearing? Like overalls but without long legs. A white romper. I’ll never quite understand how they became women’s fashion, but her legs do look great in it. Her hair has been dried and brushed into a side ponytail. She looks the perfect mix of sexy and adorable—and maybe a little confused and sheepish.
“It won’t happen again,” I say, giving her a look. “Because if she ever steps out of line, even puts one toe out of place, she’s going to feel my belt across her ass.”
Sonya blushes profusely. “Oh my God,” she gasps, clearly shocked by how honest I’m being. Rico is a very old friend and a mentor. He’s the closest thing I have to family. That’s why he came around. He’s been looking out for me since I was a snotty rookie—and he did me a few favors back in the day too. Now we’ll see if he’ll extend them to Sonya.
Rico’s stony expression softens a touch. He’s an old-fashioned guy in every sense of the word. He believes in old-fashioned ways of dealing with problems.
“I’ve been working with her, Rico,” I say. “You’re right. She was out of control. She’s not out of control anymore. She can be a very good girl when she needs to be.” I lower my tone suggestively and watch as her pretty face turns bright red.
Rico folds his arms over his chest and gives her a stern look. “Is that right, Miss Lee? Have you learned your lesson?”
Her response to this question is going to determine everything. Still blushing, she drops her eyes to the floor. I don’t blame her. She’s being faced with two very dominant men, both of whom have control over what happens to her next personally and professionally. She’s being asked, gently and somewhat indirectly, if she can submit. I know she can. It’s Rico who has to see that she’s able to be handled.
“Yes, sir,” she says, her voice not quite a whisper, but not far off it.
“This is the problem with the world today,” he rumbles to me. “You can’t solve anything the way it needs to be solved. We end up firing guys who could be brought into line with enough ass kicking, and we fire women who need their butts lit up. These kids we’re recruiting are smart but spoiled as hell.”
“Mhm,” I agree. “Used to be different back in the day. There’s no reason it can’t
be different now. I know for a fact this young lady would rather be spanked every day of the year than not be able to work at the agency.”
Sonya is squirming where she stands, but she’s not arguing either. It’s the truth.
“Miss Lee,” Rico says. “Is what O’Connell telling me true?”
“Which part, sir?” She lifts her head but doesn’t quite meet his eyes. She’s strawberry red and she can barely stand still. It’s cute as hell, and I can see Rico thinks so too.
“The part about you being disciplined, young lady.”
“Oh, uhm, yes, sir.”
Rico looks back at me. “Well then,” he says. “Let’s see it.”
“See it?” Sonya squeaks.
“If you can be spanked for disciplinary reasons, you can be spanked in front of me,” he says. “If I’m going to have you back, I want to know he really has you in hand. Anybody can be sorry they got fired. Not everybody can take their licks to show they’ve learned their lesson.”
“Uhm?” Sonya looks at me. There’s embarrassment in her eyes, but more than that, there’s hope. She’s seeing a way back, and I know she’ll do what she has to.
I had to publicly fuck her to prove to Brava that she was mine. Now I’m going to spank her little bottom to show Rico that she’s not the wildcard he thinks she is.
Chapter Fifteen
Sonya
My heart slams against my ribcage and I’m frozen in place. Who am I? I’m not the wide-eyed, impulsive agent I was before this whole thing happened. She would have reported these two Neanderthals for their unabashed sexist beliefs and held her pride in check. But no. I’m standing here in front of these two men that ooze testosterone from their pores feeling heat flare between my legs at the very thought of what Colt’s about to do.
He plays by no one’s rules but his own, and I fucking love it.
I took my life in my hands by putting myself at Colt’s mercy. He could have been a monster. He could have raped me. Killed me. And I walked right into his lair and told myself I was brave. But now? Now, this is a choice I make. I could tell them no, that they’re not going to humiliate me like this. I can retain my pride, walk away from this job and do something… normal. I could play by the rules.