Beneath the Scars

by Cherise Sinclair

  “And I thought two Doms were trouble. Adding a child into a squabble?” Zuri wrinkled her brow. “You need someone with kid experience. Let’s go to your place and dig out some wine. I need to make a couple of calls.”

  * * * * *

  A while later, Josie watched the scenery as Zuri whipped her small car through an open farm gate and up a long drive to a white, two-story farmhouse.

  “Here we are,” Zuri announced and parked the car beside the house.

  Linda’s ranch was lovely. The circular drive enclosed a pretty fountain and garden. Farther out were orange groves, the trees heavy with fruit. Barns sat off to one side, and horses grazed in white-fenced pastures. She caught a glimpse of a small pond with ducks on the grassy bank.

  A woof-woof-woof came from a dog dashing toward them, followed by a man.

  Josie froze. Wasn’t that Master Sam? She turned a narrow gaze on Uzuri. “This isn’t Linda’s place, is it?”

  “Well, technically, it’s Master Sam’s. But Linda lives with him, and she said to come here.”

  Master Sam looked even meaner in the full light of day. Lean rancher’s muscles, weathered face, silvery hair, and pale, pale blue eyes that could freeze a person with one look.

  Forcing herself to look away from him, Josie bent to greet the dog. It had reddish short hair, a stocky body, and cute ears that drooped at the tip. “Hey, guy.”

  After a glance back at his master to ascertain if she was a serial puppy killer, the dog wagged his tail, and she got a friendly sniff.

  “Girls.” Sam’s rough voice could probably be used to sandpaper hardwood. “Go on up. Linda’s inside.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Uzuri said. “Come on, Josie.”

  Josie nodded politely to Sam and followed close after her friend.

  Linda was coming out as they crossed the wide front porch. “Josie, Zuri.” They each received a warm hug. “Gabi’s already here and inside.”

  Gabi and Linda. Zuri hadn’t said why she’d chosen them, and Josie felt at a loss. Really, if she was going to keep working at the Shadowlands, she needed to learn more about the members. She could start with the Masters and their women. Masters who liked whips should probably be at the top of the list.

  But if Holt hated her, she might not be at the club long enough to bother. The hollow feeling in her chest increased.

  Inside the house, the big living room was decorated in warm browns and creams with a faded Oriental carpet on the dark flooring. A small fire in the stone fireplace crackled pleasantly.

  “Hey, you two.” Gabi handed out hugs and settled back into a chair. “I’m a glass of wine ahead of you, so you’ll have to catch up.”

  The coffee table held a bottle of wine and glasses, along with a cheese and cracker platter.

  “This is lovely.” Josie took the chair beside Gabi. “Thank you, Linda.”

  “You’re welcome, honey.” Settling on the couch beside Zuri, Linda started talking about the weather.

  A while later, when the second bottle of wine had been opened, Zuri decided everyone was warmed up. She told the others that Josie was having Dom problems all made worse by her son. She talked a bit about Carson. Linda and Gabi already knew Holt lived next door.

  “Tell the rest, Josie,” Zuri said.

  Sharing was…hard, but if Josie wanted advice, she needed to explain. She told them how Everett had rejected Carson, about Holt’s arson accusations, and how her son said he hated Holt. And how she’d told Holt their relationship was over.

  When she finished, there was silence.

  Josie shook her head. “I know there’s nothing you can do, but just sharing everything actually helped.” She hesitated. “Speaking of sharing, you won’t…” She glanced out the window toward the barn where Sam had gone.

  Gabi smiled. “It’s tough to keep things from our men, but Shadowkitten business is kept private. We need to be able to talk freely with our friends; it’s part of being a woman. The Masters might not indulge in heart-to-hearts, but they understand we do.”

  When Josie relaxed, Gabi motioned to Linda.

  Linda nodded. “Uzuri called me, because she knows I survived raising two children. They’re in college now.”

  Josie grinned at the wry way she’d said “survived.”

  “When Sam and I first got together, my kids discovered I was seeing a sadist…because they showed up early one morning at my house. And then they threw one huge shouting tantrum in front of Sam.”

  Josie’s mouth dropped open. “Oh. My. God. What did you do?”

  “I was so mad that I kicked them all out. Including Sam since he really shouldn’t have taken it upon himself to answer my door.” Linda smiled. “And yet he went on to straighten everything out, although I’m not sure my children have ever recovered from his blunt honesty.”

  Josie almost cringed. Holt could be awfully direct, too.

  “Now, let’s look at your problems.” Linda held up one finger. “First, you have your son’s possible involvement in arson.”

  Josie stiffened for a second before she slumped. “I know what you’re going to say. Yes, he’s an honest kid and has always owned up to his mistakes, but saying ‘I didn’t do it’ isn’t the same as ‘I wasn’t there” or ‘I don’t know anything about it.’”

  Linda smiled in sympathy. “The thought of our babies doing something sketchy is painful, isn’t it? But if you were positive he wasn’t involved at all, you wouldn’t be stewing.”

  “He was involved in some way or another,” Josie said grimly. “He was too angry—and defensive. He’s hiding something.”

  “Which means you have to pin him down and get answers. If you start with the fact that you know he’s involved…sometimes that works.” Linda huffed a laugh. “I’m pretty sure children never outgrow the belief that Mom is all-knowing.”

  Gabi’s mouth twisted. “I think only good mothers know everything. Mine never had a clue.”

  Josie reached over to squeeze the redhead’s hand. If she ever met the woman who put that sad expression on Gabi’s face, she’d rip her apart.

  Gabi squeezed back.

  Turning back to Linda, Josie straightened her shoulders. “Okay. One long, undoubtedly unhappy discussion with Carson coming up.”

  “Two discussions, I’m afraid. Not at the same time, of course.” Linda gave her a wry smile. “Sometime soon, he needs to hear that you need other grownups in your life, including men. If you didn’t date anyone until Holt, Carson’s acceptance might take a while.”

  “I actually did try to have that talk with him. He totally shut down.” Her heart ached. Her poor baby was so unhappy. “His father didn’t want him—ever—and I don’t want Carson to worry he could lose my love. But I guess I went overboard in tiptoeing around his sensibilities. He’s old enough to understand I might want a male companion.”

  Zuri nodded. “Carson has a good heart. It’ll take him a while, but he’ll get it.”

  “That’s it from me.” Linda glanced at Gabi. “Your turn.”

  “You did good.” Gabi grinned and turned to Josie. “My credentials don’t include parenting, but I’m a social worker, and I do a lot of family counseling.”

  Josie bit her lip. “Okay.”

  “To begin, I’m rather surprised Holt hasn’t tried to corner you again for a discussion.”

  “He hasn’t.” She’d told him they were done, and he wouldn’t fight it. She’d sure proven to be more of a problem than an asset. At the chill emanating from deep inside her, Josie wrapped her arms around herself. “I’m sure he has better things to do.”

  “I didn’t see his car at the duplex,” Zuri said. “Isn’t this his day to work at the hospital?”

  Josie nodded. “7 am to 7 pm. He’d normally have returned before we left. He’s staying away.” Because he doesn’t want to see me. Knowing that…hurt.

  “Maybe or maybe not,” Gabi said gently. “There are some questions I want you to think about before you two talk.”

  �
��He won’t want to talk with me.” Why didn’t the woman get it?

  “You two looked pretty tight at the pet adoption.”

  “And at the Saturnalia, too,” Zuri said. “I’d say the man seemed to be heading straight into love.”

  The word, the dreadful four-letter “L” word slammed into Josie, stealing her breath.

  “There it is,” Linda murmured. “You love him. Does he love you?”

  Josie’s throat hurt as she fought back tears. “He said he did, but—”

  “He did! I’m so stoked!” Zuri bounced on the couch.

  “It was just in the heat of the moment.” And a few other times, but—

  “Oh, no, girlfriend.” Zuri shook her head. “Holt’s really careful about communicating with the women he dates. He tells them up front he only dates casually and isn’t interested in a relationship. He wouldn’t say he loved you if he didn’t mean it.”

  Oh. There was no way she should be feeling joy. Not now. They weren’t together. But to hear Uzuri say that Holt meant it? Yes, she totally felt joy.

  And despair. Her shoulders slumped.

  “Do you still think he won’t show up at your door?” Gabi asked softly.

  “I told him we were done.”

  “I bet you told him you didn’t date, either.” Zuri tilted her head. “Did he listen?”

  “That’s…different. Love sounds nice, but face it; I’m not a stress-free girlfriend. I have old baggage. My son might be involved with arson and says he hates Holt. I kicked the man out of my house and said we’re done. Of course, he’s going to cut his losses.”

  “Ah.” Gabi reached over to rub Josie’s shoulder. “Let’s say Holt has a daughter, a handicapped one, who is annoying. Would you kick him to the curb?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Okay.” Gabi continued, “When you and Carson have a fight and he yells at you, do you boot him out?”

  Josie glared. “No.”

  “I see. So…why do you feel Holt has less relationship stamina and loyalty than you do?”

  Josie blinked. Because…because…he was male? Only that was totally sexist. She did know men who’d been married for decades, ones who were faithful. Loyal.

  “Sooner or later, every relationship ends up stormy, but the good ones weather it.” Gabi tilted her head. “Do you think you’re not worthy of the effort to maintain a relationship?”

  “I…” Josie pulled in a breath. Maybe? She…was worthy, wasn’t she? Did she really have such poor self-esteem? No, sheesh, she liked herself. Was worthy of love. “Boy, you’re really straightforward, aren’t you?”

  Gabi grinned. “Only with people who value honesty. I can tiptoe if I need to, but you’re not fragile, Josie. You just have a blind spot, because you were hurt in the past. You need to think about it.” She dusted her hands together. “Ladies, my work here is done, and it’s getting late.”

  Josie glanced at the clock and nodded. “I need to fetch my son. Zuri, we should be getting back.”

  “Let’s go.” Zuri jumped to her feet.

  On the way out, Josie gave Linda and Gabi hugs. “Thank you for the”—she smiled—“the intervention. And the advice and hand holding.”

  She bumped shoulders with Zuri on the way to the car. “Thank you, too. I needed this.”

  Zuri put an arm around her waist. “One of the nicest things I learned over the last year was that I could—and should—ask for help and that I would receive it.”

  “That’s nice.” If Josie went over to Holt’s and asked for help and forgiveness, what would he do? Her heart gave a stutter of hope.

  However, as they turned into Josie’s drive, her fragile hope sank into a black abyss.

  Holt’s side of the duplex was dark and silent.

  * * * * *

  Carson closed the door behind him with a breath of relief. Homework and soccer practice had saved him.

  Tryouts were coming up, and all the guys—the ones who really wanted to make the team—were practicing after school together. After soccer, he’d gone to Yukio’s to work on their English project. When Mom’d picked him up, she’d wanted to talk, but he still had stuff to finish tonight. First time he’d ever been glad to have homework.

  When Carson sat down at his desk, Poe jumped into his lap, pushy-pawing and purring. “I’m so glad you’re here, cat,” Carson whispered.

  Mom’d said tomorrow they’d talk about the fire in Mr. Jorgeson’s classroom…because she knew he’d been involved. She knew. And she looked disappointed…and sad.

  His stomach ached, and his eyes burned. He didn’t need his mother—it wasn’t like he was a baby—but still…she was his mom and compared to other moms, she was really cool. She let him do a lot, because she trusted him not to screw up.

  It felt shitty that he had.

  He kinda hadn’t realized how bad he’d messed up, not right away. If Brandon had told him first, he’d never have agreed to start a fire but, after it was too late, he’d figured it served Jorgeson right. Wasn’t all that bad.

  But when Holt’d asked Carson about the arson stuff, he’d been…not happy. At all. The way Holt’d talked, starting a fire really was bad.

  If Carson’d broke the law by being there, what if they made him and Mom pay for what got burned?

  He stared out his window at Holt’s side of the duplex. All dark. At least, he wasn’t here butting in and getting Mom upset.

  Poe’s tail started to lash, and Carson realized he was petting the cat awful hard and fast. “Sorry, Poe.”

  Poe was right—it wasn’t Holt’s fault. The guy was a firefighter. Guess that made fires his business.

  “It’s just…I liked him,” Carson whispered to Poe. The times watching football and playing soccer had been awesome. And if not for Holt, Carson wouldn’t have Poe. He was cool to talk with and didn’t act like Carson was a stupid kid. And—Carson felt the ache in his belly increase—when those two muggers had attacked, Holt’d saved him.

  Poe stared up at him, yellow-green eyes unblinking. Well?

  “I messed up. Should’ve told him and Mom I was there. And I will.” He didn’t have to tell them who else had been at the school. Mom’d figure it out. She knew he’d gone to Brandon’s that day.

  The cat dug claws into his thighs, reminding him he had more to answer for.

  “He’s an asshole, Mom. I hate him!” The words he’d yelled made his stomach twist. He’d acted like…like the five-year-old brat across the street. Anytime she didn’t get her own way, she’d be all I hate you.

  Poe stared at him.

  “I don’t hate Holt. It’s just…” Mom liked him. And knowing it made Carson feel weird.

  Other kids’ parents got divorced, and the moms sometimes got boyfriends. A couple of his classmates even got new fathers. Stepfathers.

  Was Holt Mom’s boyfriend now? He really liked Mom. Or he had. Only now…Mom’d been mad at Holt and kicked him out.

  Carson’s eyes started to burn. He woke up last night…and heard her crying. Because he’d been such a loser an’ maybe because he’d screwed everything up with Holt, too.

  Over at the duplex, Holt’s side was still dark. The Harley was gone.

  Maybe Holt hated both of them now.

  And Mom had cried.

  Tomorrow. Somehow, he’d make it all right tomorrow.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Holt rolled over in bed and yawned. He’d finished his usual twelve-hour ICU shift yesterday, and then, since the flu had left the unit short-staffed, he’d agreed to stay on and work the night shift, too. Because if he’d been home, he would’ve gone next door to have it out with Josie.

  A glance at the clock said it was afternoon, so he’d gotten a few hours of sleep once he’d unwound enough to sack out. It’d been an ugly night. A head-on car crash had filled the last two ICU beds. With luck, the toddlers would stabilize. Thank fuck children were so resilient.

  Damn vehicular accidents. Whoever’d invented cars should’ve been s
hot. Made a guy want to return to primitive times.

  Rolling out of bed, Holt headed for the shower, even though he’d taken one last night. As he stepped under the hot water, he snorted. Primitive times would mean giving up hot water. No nurse in the world would go for that concept.

  And four-legged transportation wasn’t safer than cars. He smiled, remembering a western clothing ad he’d done as a kid. They’d tossed him onto a horse, and he’d been terrified. Eventually, he’d had fun…after getting past how far away the ground was.

  Would Josie enjoy a western vacation? Maybe he could take her and Carson to a working ranch. It’d give him a chance to have some guy time with Carson.

  Assuming the boy ever stopped hating him.

  With a sigh, Holt finished his shower, pulled on a pair of jeans, and headed for the living room. His pretty redhead’s time was up. They needed to talk. She’d overreacted…but he’d screwed up, too.

  He picked up the package on his coffee table and headed to Josie’s house. Using the bright gold ribbons, he hung the box on her front door handle. “Okay, subbie. The ball’s in your court.”

  What would she do?

  Fuck knew. She’d always admitted if she’d screwed up. But this time, it’d been Carson’s screw-up.

  Back in his duplex, Holt downed a quick sandwich, then grabbed a Dew and went out to his comfortable chair on the patio. Feet up, he drank the ice-cold liquid and tried to relax.

  Josie’s car was under the carport, but there was no noise from her house. No one in her backyard. He sighed, breathing in the sweet fragrance of Stella’s blooming frangipani tree.

  His Josie was sweet, too. And fucking stubborn. Was she still angry? Had she talked with Carson about the classroom fire?

  His mouth tightened. His captain had agreed to give Josie time to get through to her son. After all, they had no real evidence aside from a vague description of reflective tape.

  But Holt knew—and Josie knew—the boy was involved. Somehow. Dammit. He could help if she’d let him. If she’d trust him.