“Fine. I woke up, and Sean was on top of me choking me, only he wasn’t himself. He’s recently come out of the army—he was in the special forces—like my husband was over ten years ago now, and I guess he has PTSD. Zane did, not that it ever manifested itself like that, but how can they not, you know? The things they see and have to do. Zane has only told me what he can, the unclassified stuff, and that’s bad enough.” Sandy shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself.
This time WPC Adderly’s smile did reach her eyes. She put down her notebook and nodded.
“My brother came out last year, so I know what you mean. Go on, what happened then?” she asked.
Sandy swiped at her eyes and sighed.
“Zane woke up, saw what was happening, and tried to get Sean off of me. When that didn’t work he must have gripped the light and hit Sean with it. He wouldn’t have meant to cause that injury. He was just worried about me and … oh hell. I need to see him, please.”
Chapter Five
“I know my rights. You can’t keep me here any longer. I’ve told you everything.” Zane ran a hand over his face and took a deep breath in to calm his rising temper. He needed to be at the hospital with his wife and Sean, not sitting across this table in an interrogation room, going over the same things over and over. And where the hell was his lawyer? Who cared about it being the crack of freaking dawn. He paid the guy enough to be at his beck and call.
“We just want to make sure we got all of our facts straight and—”
A commotion outside the door interrupted the police officer conducting the interview, and he sighed.
“Interview suspended at 05:03.”
The door flung open to reveal Zane’s disheveled looking lawyer. Clutching a coffee and looking as though he’d dragged himself out of bed mere moments ago, he nodded at Zane and then addressed the officer.
“You have no right to keep my client here, let alone interrogate him in this fashion without his legal representation present. I demand you stop this charade this instant and let my client go.”
He took a sip of his coffee and turned his attention toward Zane.
“Sorry, I got here as soon as I could. The missus wasn’t happy with me, I tell you. What’s going on?”
Zane shrugged.
“Beats me, they won’t tell me anything, other than some nonsense about me being up for a GBH charge.” Zane kept his face as neutral as he could, grateful for his years of army training to fall back on.
“It’s hardly nonsense. Your actions have put a man into hospital, Mr. McLeod, and your explanation as to why this happened is full of holes. Consensual, my ass.”
Zane would have shot out of his chair, had his lawyer’s heavy hand on his shoulder not stopped him. He consoled himself with mentally adding up all the various ways he could end this miserable fucker’s life, if he chose to. Not that it would achieve anything, but it was tempting in moments like this.
“You don’t have to answer that, Zane.”
Officer Plod—had there ever been a more fitting name for a copper?—rolled his eyes and leaned across the table in an effort to no doubt intimidate Zane.
“I put it to you, that you changed your mind about this whole threesome thing, and in a fit of jealous rage decided to attack Sean Manson causing his head injury, and it was you who choked your wife. Admit it already.”
Oh yes, that pen would look good lodged in that asshole’s windpipe.
Zane leaned back and clapped his hands together in a slow clap designed to infuriate the cop. Sure enough, his already ruddy color worsened.
“You should be on stage. On second thoughts, don’t. The critics would have a field day. For the last time. I told you what happened, and if that’s all, and unless you actually have real grounds to keep me here, I’m going, right, Jack?” He looked up at his lawyer for confirmation, and the man sprang into action.
“Yes, quite right. I assume you have Mrs. McLeod’s statement confirming the course of the evening’s events?”
PC Plod shuffled his notes around, and the veins on his temple throbbed in his agitation. If he kept this up he would pop his clogs of a heart attack.
“That’s not relevant here. A battered wife would say any—”
This time Zane did shoot up. His chair crashed to the floor, Jack sighed, and the clueless ass of a police officer grinned in triumph. A grin that rapidly faded when Zane put his hands on the table and got right in the fucker’s face. If he thought he could intimidate Zane and throw this nonsense around he had another fucking think coming.
“How dare you?” Zane’s growled words made the weasel swallow repeatedly, and back away as far as his still seated position would allow.
“Zane, don’t.”
Jack’s warning rang in his ears, even as he shrugged off the man’s hand on his shoulder, too intent to get his point across. No one insulted his wife like this, let alone reduce their D/s relationship to abuse.
“I could have you up for slander. I am not a wife beater.” Zane took a deep breath in, straightened up and scrubbed a hand over his face. Fuck this shit. He was too fucking tired and worried about the two people he loved to deal with morons like this one.
Clearly sensing to how close Zane was to losing his temper, Jack stepped in.
“Don’t worry, Zane. I will be lodging an official complaint about Officer Plod and the way you’ve been treated over this.” Jack nodded at him when Zane slowly straightened back up, a silent warning in his eyes.
“Now unless you’re actually charging my client, in which case I want to see the evidence you have for this, we are leaving now.”
A strained silence fell in the room, only interspersed by Plod’s heavy breaths, before he got up and opened the door.
“You’re free to go for now.” The man looked as though he was sucking a lemon, as he stared up at Zane. “Don’t leave town. This isn’t over yet, McLeod. I got your number.”
Zane gave a short laugh and turned his back on the asshole.
“And I have yours, officer.” Jack’s voice could have cut glass. “I suggest you get a good solicitor. This is indeed not over yet.” He slapped Zane on the back and led the way out of there. It still took far too long for Zane’s liking before the doors of the police station spewed them out into the breaking dawn of what promised to be a beautiful day.
“Okay, what the fuck was that all about? Why did you put a man into hospital, and where is Sandy?” Jack asked, as he threw his now empty coffee cup into the nearest bin. “My car is that way. Talk while we walk, man.”
Instead of answering him Zane smiled.
“You’re not really going to press charges against that idiot, are you?” he asked.
Jack bibbed his car open with his keys and slid behind the steering wheel as Zane got in the other side.
“Fuck no, but he doesn’t know that. Let him sweat for a bit. I will, however, lodge a complaint with his superior. They need to update their fucking training. There’s no excuse for ignorance. The lifestyle might not be his thing, but he has no right to pre-judge you like this.”
Jack started the engine and frowned at Zane.
“He’d have a fit, if he knew my missus was My Lady and the cock and balls torture that’ll wait for me at home. Thanks for that, by the way, mate. You owe me big time.”
Zane laughed, as had no doubt been Jack’s intention.
“Pain slut like you ought to thank me. You know you love that shit. Now shut up and drive. Sandy will be going spare, and I need to find out what happened to Sean. She’ll never forgive…” He screwed his eyes shut and shook his head as ice cold fear gripped his spine at the thought of losing her.
Jack sighed, but he did put his foot down.
“Sandy loves you, and whatever you did, you would have done to protect her, right? Not that I know exactly would you did, but if Manson is involved I can guess. You two back on, I assume?”
Zane forced his eyes open and nodded.
“I … fuck, this is a
ll messed up.”
Jack gave a short laugh.
“Poly stuff usually is, but if anyone can make it work, it’ll be you and Sandy. Now talk. What happened.”
It took the rest of the journey to fill Jack in. Give the man his due, he didn’t interrupt Zane, even though he could tell that he was dying to. There was a reason Jack was his lawyer. Not only had he known the man since he was knee high, he was also a shark, as well as one of Zane’s oldest friends. Back in the day, before Zane had joined the army, they’d both discovered kink at the same time. In Jack’s case he was strictly hetero and a sexual submissive through and through. Not that you’d ever guess that unless you saw him with His Lady. Rhonda was a renowned psychologist, and the two of them had met over a case, three years ago now, and never looked back. So, if anyone would get this thing among Sandy, Sean, and Zane it would be Jack.
“Man, I’ve got to tell you, that sucks,” Jack eventually said as they pulled up outside the hospital. “Sandy won’t have meant that, you know that. She’ll know you did what you had to, and Manson has a hard head. He’ll be okay, I’m sure. Now go in there and make that right and give Manson Rhonda’s number. He needs help for sure, and you know she specializes in PTSD.”
Sean nodded and sighed.
“He does, I just didn’t realize how much. Had I known I never would have insisted he stay with us. He did want to sleep in the spare room.”
Jack’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“Yeah, maybe that’s where he needs to stay until he has a handle on things. Just don’t let him run off or refuse the help. I know how stubborn you damn Doms can be. Good luck, man.”
Jack’s words rang in his ears as Zane negotiated the red tape that stopped him from seeing both Sean and Sandy. Clever girl that she was she’d had Sean moved into a private room, so that she could stay with him. Trying to get through the stern-faced nurse in charge of the ward, however, was another matter. It took all of Zane’s charms to get her to relent to let him in, and then she kept wittering on about protocols and visiting hours.
“Look, I appreciate all that, but these are hardly normal circumstances. My wife needs me, and I need to make sure Sean is okay. By your own admission she hasn’t left his side. At least let me in briefly so that I can ensure I get a list of things they both might need. I won’t stay long.” He mentally crossed his fingers at the lie. It didn’t sit right with him, but he needed to get in there, before he lost his shit.
“Hmm, I doubt you’ll leave once you get in there.” The pint-sized woman looked him up and down, and Zane had to fight to keep his amusement under control. “However, your wife has repeatedly asked after you, so I suppose I can make an exception. I warn you though.” She rose on her tiptoes and stabbed her index finger repeatedly into his chest. “I’m aware of the circumstances surrounding Mr. Manson’s injury, and at the first sign of any trouble, I’ll have security escort you off of the premises. Are we clear?”
Sean nodded.
“Crystal, and there won’t be any trouble, I assure you.”
A long stare through narrowed eyes later, he was finally granted admission, only to freeze at the entrance to Sean’s room.
His old buddy looked deathly pale under his tan, and the bandage around his head made him want to puke. At least, he’d been given the all clear by Neuro. Zane had found that much out from questioning Nurse Noreen. A CT-scan had showed there to be no brain damage or swelling, despite his hairline skull fracture, and while he had yet to wake up—and would no doubt have a motherfucking headache for days—he’d been lucky. Or maybe that should be Zane had been lucky. He sure as fuck hadn’t intended to inflict permanent damage on the man he’d always been madly in love with. His fear for the other, equally as important, part of his life had spurred him on to act, and he’d grabbed the light in desperation.
Seeing Sandy fast asleep in a chair pulled up next to his buddy’s bed, her hand wrapped around Sean’s, made that ache in his soul deepen. While it was good to see how much she cared about Sean already, her angry words haunted him.
“What did you do?”
He cleared his throat, and Sandy startled awake. When she saw him, she let go of Sean and literally threw herself into Zane’s arms. Never had it felt so good to hold his sweet baby girl in his arms, as he staggered back a step under her frantic onslaught.
“You’re here. Oh my God, I was so worried. I—”
Zane slanted his lips over hers, effectively stopping her mid speech and kicked the door shut behind them, as Sandy climbed him like a tree, clung, and kissed him back with all the passion that’d had always existed between them.
By the time they came up for air, and he gently set his precious cargo back on her feet, his world had righted itself, and he smiled down on her while he kissed her nose.
“It’s okay, I’m here now. Some asshole policeman at the station wouldn’t let me go on a so-called GBH charge, but Jack sorted it out.”
“He did?” Her voice sounded so small and lost, Zane wanted to wrap her up and take her away from all this, but she would never leave Sean’s side, so that would have to wait.
“Yeah, baby girl, he did. I dare say they’ll want to interview Sean when he comes ‘round, but he won’t press charges.” He glanced across at his still sleeping buddy and sighed. “He might want to punch my lights out, but I’ll deal with that. Might even let him.”
Sandy pushed against his chest, and he reluctantly let her go.
“That’s not funny. Don’t you think there’s been enough knocking people around for one day, if not ever?”
Zane’s lips twitched seeing his little Sandy with her arms crossed under her impressive rack, giving him a stare that wouldn’t have looked amiss on Jack’s Rhonda, before his gaze dropped to the ugly bruising around her throat, and his amusement fled. He gently probed the area, and his gut churned at her wince of pain.
“He’ll hate himself for having done that to you, baby, and I hate what I had to do to get him off of you. This is all my fault. I should never have insisted that he stay with us. He did try and tell me he’d be better off not to, but all I could think of was how hurt you would be if you woke up and he wasn’t there.” He dropped his hand and ran a hand through his hair. Anything to stop him from crushing her back to him and never letting her go. “I didn’t want you to think this was just sex, because it wasn’t. At least it wasn’t for me.”
“Nor me.” Sean’s cracked voice drew both their attention to the man in the bed. Sandy gasped and rushed to Sean’s side. His eyes widened as he no doubt saw the evidence of his actions on her throat and filled with tears, when Sandy grasped his hand, lifted it to her lips and dropped a tender kiss on the back of it.
“Thank God, you’re awake. I was so worried.”
Zane chose to keep quiet, and rounding the bed took Sean’s other hand and squeezed. His buddy’s gaze briefly connected with his, and then swung back round to Sandy. The way she looked at Sean. Fuck him six ways ‘til next Sunday, he knew that look. If it hadn’t been utterly inappropriate in the circumstances he’d have fist pumped the air and shouted hallelujah. Instead, he breathed a little easier, and the vise squeezing his chest loosened. They could make this work, if only Sean cooperated. His buddy yanked his hand out of Zane’s and lifted it toward Sandy’s throat. The amount of effort that took manifested itself in the trembling digits. Sandy took hold of that hand, too, and shook her head when Sean opened to his mouth to speak.
“Don’t speak. It’s okay really. I know you didn’t mean to do that. Just like I know Zane didn’t mean to put you into a hospital bed.” She offered Zane a wobbly smile, and he nodded his confirmation. When had he gotten so lucky to have such an amazing wife and sub, he would never know. “I’m sorry for what I said back then. I didn’t mean that either.”
“I know, baby girl. There’s nothing to forgive. Like I said earlier, if anyone is to blame here it’s me. I was so fucking worried about you, I just reacted. I never meant to put him into the h
ospital.”
Sean struggled to get into more upright position, but Zane pushed him back down, as his monitors kicked off.
“No, you stay right there, buddy, and rest. You’ll send the nurses running in otherwise, and that will get me evicted faster than you can say numb-nuts.” He smiled at Sean and breathed a sigh of relief when the other man didn’t argue. He really had to feel like shit warmed up to acquiesce so easily. “It took all of my charms to get in here in the first place. I’m a supposed danger to both of you according to the cops.”
Sean attempted to speak, shook his head, and promptly paled.
“Fucking bull.” That croak made them all smile, seconds before the door opened and Nurse Noreen appeared.
“Oh, good, you’re awake. You two really need to leave now. Mr. Manson needs his rest. Here.” She pushed an oxygen mask on his face and shook her head at Sean. “No, don’t try to speak or move.” She turned her head to address Zane. “Take your wife home now and come back at visiting time. I’ll take good care of him, I promise you, and what he needs more than anything right now is rest, not declarations of whatever. That can wait until he’s better and discharged.”
Sandy looked all set to argue with the older woman, but Zane knew she was right.
“You heard her, baby, let’s get you home. We’ll come back in the afternoon, mate.”
Sean blinked once to show that he’d heard him, and Zane nodded.
“But, I can’t, I—”
“Are you arguing with me, girl?” Zane dropped his voice on purpose. It made Sandy jump and raised Noreen’s eyebrows, but it had the desired effect on his wife’s submissive side.
“No, Sir, of course not.”
Noreen’s eyebrows disappeared into her hairline, and the tiniest of smiles softened her stern expression at Sandy’s whispered answer.
“Good girl. Let’s get you home.”
Chapter Six
Sean shut his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief as the door shut on the police officer sent to take his statement. What a fucking asshole. The wanker was lucky he still couldn't lift his head without feeling as though it was going to explode, or he'd have shoved that self-righteous dick's assumptions down his fat throat and made him choke on them.
Her Husband's Army Buddy (McLeod Security Book 1) Page 5