Entertaining Distraction: Doms of The Covenant Book Two

by Samantha Cole

  Coughing, she caught Jake’s attention. Unfortunately, she had to wait a moment because the ringleader glared at her as if her cough had annoyed the hell out of him. Once he began pacing again, Charlotte nodded once at Jake, then tilted her head to her right, his left, to indicate Reggie who was sitting next to him. When Jake signaled for her to continue, she put her hand to her chest and took several deep breaths. Glancing at the ringleader to make sure he wasn’t watching—he was grabbing a bottle of whiskey from behind the bar—Charlotte mimed using an inhaler, then made a gun with her fingers, hoping Jake would figure out the rest.

  Without taking his gaze off of her, he mouthed the word “asthma” and Charlotte realized he’d actually whispered it only loud enough for Reggie to hear him. The lawyer narrowed his eyes at Jake who then clarified. “Fake an asthma attack.”

  Reggie’s gaze shot to Charlotte and then his wife who gestured using an inhaler. He finally got it and nodded. Pushing his chair back loudly, he took several deep breaths and brought his hand to his chest. The ringleader came from around the bar, his weapon in one hand, a bottle of Jack Daniels in the other, and glared at him. “What the fuck are you doing?”

  Gasping and pulling at the collar of his shirt, Reggie could’ve been an actor as he rasped, “I-I can’t breathe.”

  The men sitting at the table gave appropriate looks of concern, and Jake asked, “Where’s your inhaler, Reggie?”

  “C-Colleen’s . . . got it . . . need it.”

  His wife stood, and the ringleader turned his gun toward her. “Where do you think you’re going, bitch?”

  She took a brave step forward. “Please, he needs his inhaler. I have it in my purse.” Colleen pointed where her bag hung from the back of a bar stool and took a few more steps until she was standing in the doorway between the two rooms. “Please, let me get it. H-He just needs to take a few puffs and he’ll be fine.”

  The perp glanced from her to the stool to Reggie, who was doing a fine job of pretending he couldn’t breathe—at least Charlotte hoped it was still an act. The lawyer looked awfully pale. Finally, the gang leader looked at Colleen again. “Fine. Anything to shut him up. But don’t try anything stupid.”

  “I-I won’t.” Without hesitation, Colleen hurried over to the bar and snatched her purse from the back of the stool. Shuffling through it, she found the inhaler and pulled it out. Hanging her purse from her shoulder and tucking it close to her side, in a move natural for most women, Colleen proceeded to the table where the men were sitting. She handed the inhaler to her husband under the watchful eye of the two perps in that room. “Here, Reggie. Take a few puffs.”

  A loud noise from the other side of the wall behind Charlotte had everyone turning in that direction. Grabbing Colleen’s upper arm, the ringleader dragged her back to the party room and shoved her toward the chair she’d been sitting in. He yelled over his shoulder to the punk at the front of the bar. “Watch them!”

  He continued over to the ladder, pushed Jose out of the way, and climbed up to the top. “What the fuck are you doing over there?”

  His accomplice cursed. “What do you fucking think I’m trying to do? I’m trying to get the damn . . . arrgghhh . . . cabinet open.”

  “Well, hurry the fuck up!”

  Charlotte used the distraction to take the Sig Sauer P320 Subcompact Colleen had furtively removed from its holster in her purse. The small, 9mm held twelve bullets and fit neatly in the parole officer’s hand. She expertly flipped the safety off, then tucked the weapon into the waistband of her jeans, under her shirt. Against her bare skin, the cold, sharp metal was uncomfortable, and risky with the safety off, but she could draw it easily and fire if needed.

  The grinding of metal against metal was followed by another loud bang over in the pharmacy. “Got it!”

  The ringleader snorted. “’Bout fucking time! Get the shit and let’s get out of here!” Stepping down from the ladder, he sauntered back to the table the women were sitting at as if he didn’t have a care in the world now that they’d gained access to the drugs. His demeanor had changed again—he was definitely on something. He smirked at Jenn. Using the hand that was still holding the bottle of Jack, he ran a finger down her cheek, ignoring her flinch and hard eyes. “Whatta ya say, sweet thing? Want to come party with us?”

  “Not on your fucking life, jackass,” the pretty blonde growled. Channeling her Uncle Ian, she smacked his hand away.

  The prick slammed the bottle onto the table and grabbed Jenn by the hair, yanking her head back. “Bitch!”

  In the next few moments, so much happened at once. Jenn screeched in pain. In the other room, Doug leaped from his seat, sending the chair flying backward, his face red with rage. “Get your fucking hands off her!”

  The suspect who’d been watching the men swung his weapon around to shoot Doug, but Nick was faster, snatching an unlit candle in a heavy, round holder from the table and throwing it at the guy’s head. Simultaneously, Jake kicked out from where he sat and smashed the bastard’s knee with the heel of his boot-covered foot. When the gun went off, the bullet slammed into the ceiling, as the shooter screamed in agony and dropped to the floor. The two former SEALs had him disarmed and restrained within seconds.

  Meanwhile, at the same time, Charlotte also stood quickly, reaching for the gun at her lower back, but the ringleader hauled Jenn out of her chair and sent her crashing into the table. The table knocked into Charlotte, and the chair she’d stood from tipped over and got tangled in her legs, making her lose her balance and stumble. Twisting, she fell on her ass, causing pain to explode in her tailbone. Fury flared in the ringleader’s eyes through the cutouts in the mask as he shoved Jenn aside and raised his gun.

  “No!” Jose yelled, lunging forward and pulling out the gun he’d stuck in his front waistband.

  Instead of shooting Charlotte, the leader spun on the new threat and pulled the trigger. The bullet slammed into Jose’s chest. Stunned, he froze before falling to his knees. Screams and shouts filled the air. Before the drugged-up bastard could bring his gun back around completely, Charlotte fired. His head snapped back as the slug hit him between the eyes. He was dead before he hit the ground.

  The next thing Charlotte knew, Mike was lifting her to her feet. “Are you okay? Shit, Charlotte, tell me you’re okay.” His shaking hands and panicked gaze roamed her body, looking for any sign she was injured.

  “I-I’m fine. Jenn? Daniella? Colleen?” She looked at each one of them, making sure none had been shot. Doug already had his arms around Jenn, holding the trembling young woman as she buried her face in his chest. Embracing, Colleen and Reggie assured each other they were okay. Jake was checking on Daniella, while in the other room, Nick held the other suspect at gunpoint.

  The guy in the pharmacy yelled, “What the hell’s going on? Ace? Jose?” But no one answered him.

  Charlotte’s ears were ringing from the loud gun reports. Scanning the room, she finally realized Jose was lying on the ground, covered in blood. “Damn it.”

  She pulled from Mike’s arms, set the gun on the table, and rushed over to where the young man was gasping for air. Mike was right behind her, telling Jake to call 9-1-1 and grabbing a clean tablecloth from one of the empty tables. Charlotte took it from him and put pressure on the wound, but it was clear Jose was fading fast. He stared up at her with pain- and tear-filled eyes. “I-I’m so-sorry, Ms. Roth. Th-They have Dina and . . . and Tomas. Ma-Made me do it . . . said they’d k-kill them.”

  Shit. “Where are they, Jose?”

  “D-Don’t know . . . Ace has som-someone watching . . . them.” He swallowed hard, his breath becoming more labored. “Pl-Please save th-them . . . tell them I-I’m s-sorry.”

  Behind her, Charlotte heard Jake giving out orders. He took over the watch of the one suspect and sent Nick and Doug out to the alleyway to see if they could grab the other. The guy was still shouting from the pharmacy, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. They’d have to wait until he came out t
he rear exit, which was locked from the inside, but it wouldn’t take long. A getaway vehicle was probably parked back there. Once he realized his buddies weren’t going to be able to help him, he’d want to get the hell out of there. There was no honor among thieves.

  “We’ll find them, Jose, I promise. Just stay with me. Help is on the way.”

  “Not—Not gonna make . . . it. Tell them . . . I love them and I’m so—” Jose went still as his last breath left him. His lifeless eyes open, seeing nothing.

  Unexpected tears rolled down Charlotte’s cheek. She wished she could have done something to save him, but from the amount of blood that’d poured out of the entrance and exit wounds on his chest and back, it had been hopeless from the start. The bullet had probably hit a major artery—he’d bled out in under two minutes.

  Charlotte rested back on her heels. Hands cupped her shoulders from behind, and she glanced back. She hadn’t realized Mike had stood. He tightened his grip and pulled her up. Ignoring the blood now covering both their hands, he wrapped his arms around her. A sob escaped her, followed by another as Charlotte buried her face into his chest.

  Mike kissed the top of her head. “It’s my turn to take care of you, baby. I’ve got you . . . I’ve got you.”

  16

  “How are you doing, Michael?” Charlotte purred as she led her sub around the pit. It was his first night in the club with play privileges, and his third visit to The Covenant during open hours. However, he was still like a kid in a candy store, his wide-eyed gaze was all over the place as he gaped at one scene after another, still trying to wrap his brain around the different types of play. She chuckled to herself. Pretty much everyone new to the lifestyle reacted the same way during their first few visits to a club.

  “I’m good, Mistress Charlotte.” He frowned as he looked down at her. “Am I doing anything wrong?”

  “Not at all.” Giving him a saucy smile, she ran her fingers down his bare chest. He’d dressed in a faded pair of snug jeans and nothing else, as per her orders. She knew it would take him a while to get used to being in public with fewer clothes on, however, for now, that was fine with her. She liked knowing she was the only one who got to see him completely naked. “But don’t worry—I’ll look forward to punishing you if you do.”

  “Thank you, Ma’am. I’m sure I’ll look forward to it, too.” The corners of his mouth ticked upward, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes and her gut clenched. Something had been bothering him for the last few days—he’d been quieter than normal— and although she’d asked him several times if something was wrong, he’d only stated he had a lot on his mind. She’d debated whether or not to push him further, but had held off until now—wanting to see if he’d spill his guts without her persuasion. It was her responsibility to ensure the emotional well-being of her sub was taken care of. His evasive behavior would cease tonight. Once they got into the playroom all bets were off. They weren’t going to leave there until she knew what was wrong—only then would she know how to resolve it.

  She strode past several more scenes, and he respectfully stayed on her heels. She’d gone through the club protocols extensively before his first trip to the club. She knew some things would take him out of his comfort zone and would be awkward for him at first, but she’d also agreed to no public humiliation in their contract. Many of the subs she’d been in contracts with before had wanted that, so she’d complied—it hadn’t mattered to her one way or the other. It’d been all about giving them what they needed. But with Michael, his needs were different than the masochists in the club, and she’d gladly modified for him. That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to push his limits.

  It had been a little over two weeks since Jenn’s party had ended in bloodshed. After the police had arrived and taken the two remaining suspects into custody, it hadn’t taken Detective Isaac Webb and his partner long to find out where Jose’s fiancée and child were being held. The local SWAT team had been dispatched, and the hostages were rescued without further violence.

  After Jake had called 9-1-1 that night, his next calls had been to Ian and the rest of his teammates. They’d all shown up at the pub as fast as they could. Kat had been the lone significant other to come along. Boomer had allowed his wife to accompany him only after being assured the danger was all over. All the other Trident women, either pregnant or with little ones, had stayed home, impatiently waiting for word that everyone really was okay. While the hostages had all seemingly recovered from their ordeal, Charlotte knew Jenn was feeling more frustrated than ever about Doug Henderson. The man had comforted Ian’s goddaughter and held her tightly in those minutes following the gunshots, but after the rest of her uncles had arrived on the scene, the bodyguard put distance between them again. Jenn’s disappointment had been evident—at least to Charlotte—but she also hadn’t seen what the Domme had noticed. There had been a silent war raging in the man’s eyes. He felt more for Jenn than the young woman realized, and for some unknown reason, he was fighting it. Was it the age difference between them or the fact she was his boss’s goddaughter? If Charlotte had to guess, it was a little of both.

  The pub had been closed for three days—two for the police investigation, and one more for a crime scene cleanup company to expunge all evidence of the incident from public scrutiny. Brody Evans had retrieved the video and audio recordings from the pub’s security system he’d designed and handed them over to the detectives. The footage had told the whole story and satisfied the district attorney that no one other than the two remaining suspects would be charged in the events leading to the deaths of their comrades.

  Mike had made sure all his employees were compensated for their unexpected time off. He was once again looking for a new sous chef and had surprised Charlotte by saying he’d still consider another ex-con. His reasoning was, if it hadn’t been for the threat against his family, Jose probably would have been with him for a long time. He’d been a hard worker, looking to better his lot in life, and had gotten caught up in a situation where most people would have responded the same way, by doing what they thought best to save their loved ones.

  As for the young widow, there was no family she was close to, and Jake had been worried she might be subjected to a vengeful retaliation from the rest of Ace’s gang. Calling in a favor, Jake had arranged for her and her son to be relocated to another state through an organization called Friends of Patty. While they usually helped victims of domestic violence to disappear for their own safety, the local chapter had agreed it would be best to help Jose’s fiancée and child start over somewhere else.

  Stopping at an occupied spanking bench where Devon Sawyer had his wife strapped down, Charlotte snatched a pillow from a nearby chair and dropped it at her feet. “Kneel and watch, my sweet.”

  Pride and satisfaction welled within her as Mike didn’t hesitate to do her bidding. She’d upped his training, and it appeared the difference between private and public play hadn’t bothered him when it came to certain commands. After his initial unease on the first night they’d walked around the crowded club, he’d relaxed. It’d helped when he’d realized no one there thought less of him for submitting to a Domme. In fact, there’d been appreciative looks sent his way from several women and men, who were either Dominants or submissives. He’d stepped up his workouts with Jake, Nick, and some of the other Trident Security men on most mornings, and his abs were more noticeably cut. Charlotte loved them but had made sure he’d been doing it for himself and not just to impress her. Since he’d been working out for months before they’d entered into their relationship, she’d believed him when he’d said it was 75% for himself and 25% for her. Had the numbers been different, she may have thought he was lying.

  The club was in full swing tonight. Between the people in the pit, bar area, and garden, there had to be over 200 members present, and that didn’t include whoever was already playing in the two dozen private play rooms. Charlotte had reserved one of them for her and Mike. They had another fifteen minu
tes or so for the room to be free and cleaned—enough time to watch the scene before them.

  As they watched Master Devon spank his pretty wife’s bare ass with a paddle, Charlotte moved closer to Mike so her leg brushed against his arm. When he glanced up at her, she nodded once, and he wrapped his arm around her calf, gently stroking her skin. She’d found out he enjoyed touching her as much as possible. With some subs, she would have deduced they were “clingy,” but not so with Mike. It just pleased him to have that physical connection between them, especially after their ordeal. Many nights they’d just cuddled on the couch at her house or his condo, binging on some Netflix shows and Häagen-Dazs. It turned out Mike was just as comfortable being a homebody as Charlotte was. On nights when he’d worked late at the pub, they’d talk on the phone for a bit before she started to feel sleep pulling her under. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d spent so much time talking and hanging out with her submissive outside of play, but Mike had become much more than just her submissive. He’d wormed his way into her heart. Her entertaining distraction had become a permanent one. With her other subs, it had been easy to dismiss them in her mind while she’d been at work, however, thoughts of Mike were constantly popping into her brain throughout the day. She found her heart rate spiking any time her cell phone pinged with a text, or the screen announced an incoming call from him. Sometimes it was to ask a question, other times it was just him wanting to say hello and hear her voice.

  Placing her hand on Mike’s head, Charlotte stroked his hair as Master Devon reddened Kristen’s ass. Charlotte knew why the Dom was subjecting his sub to a public spanking tonight, even though it was on her yellow limit list and he didn’t do it often. He’d been frustrated to find out she was overstressed and not sleeping well, and had been hiding those facts from him. With caring for their infant son, a deadline for her latest book coming up, signing events, Devon’s busy work schedule, and their lack of playtime lately, she hadn’t wanted to tell him she was nearing a meltdown. When Devon had overheard her crying to Angie and Fancy, he’d been angry but more concerned than anything. As her Dom, he should have been the first person she’d told—it was his responsibility to take care of her, and he couldn’t do that properly if she hid things from him. So, tonight, she was paying for it and being reminded that lying to her Dom by omission was still lying. The punishment would also give her the release she needed to destress.