Masters of the Shadowlands 8 - If only

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Masters of the Shadowlands 8 - If only Page 42

by Sinclair Cherise


  Vance stared. “You—”

  Seeing the Feds’ surprise, Sally hid her grin against Vance’s shoulder. Her poor Doms had no idea what happened when a Shadowlands Master—or submissive—needed help.

  “Gabi and I swung by and managed to coax Glock into a carrier,” Marcus said.

  “Boy, I use insults…but nothing like a cat in a foul mood.” Gabi rolled her eyes. “It’s a good thing Marcus doesn’t speak feline, since your cat started with, ‘Rat-turd human, if I throw a stick, will you leave?’ and descended to, ‘Chicken-butt human, you’re so ugly, Hello Kitty said good-bye to you.’”

  Sally could just see Glock with his tail twitching and hissing out insults. As she giggled, laughter swept around the room.

  Galen’s deep laugh turned into a groan, and he pressed his hand over his ribs where that bastard Somerfeld had kicked him. Horribly hard.

  Sally glared at Gabi.

  “Sorry, Galen,” Gabi said, grinning unrepentantly.

  “We took Glock to the pet boarding place we use during vacations.” Marcus handed Galen a card. He glanced at Vance and tapped the hospital bed rail. “Happens I like having you on that side of the bed railing rather than me.”

  Vance grinned. “I’ll be out tomorrow. And thank you for finding Glock.” He held his hand out to shake and winced.

  “Don’t move,” Sally snapped at him before turning a frown on Marcus.

  The lawyer chuckled. “Easy, li’l spitfire. I know how much bullet holes hurt. At least, I was smart enough to take pain meds.”

  Yeah, he’d been shot last year—and Gabi had been crazed. As Sally put her head back down on Vance’s shoulder, she remembered how Raoul had been shot as well. How upset Kim had been. But at least her friends’ Doms weren’t in law enforcement.

  Hers were. So this might not be a one-time deal, not for them. Her Feds might have gotten rid of the Harvest Association, but there were always more criminals.

  Criminals had guns. And knives. And gasoline.

  * * * *

  Sally’s unnatural stillness on the drive to Dan’s house had given Galen an uneasy feeling. And when she’d disappeared into the nursery with Kari, with barely a smile for him, he was downright worried.

  “Problem?” Carrying a couple of beers, Dan motioned him out the back door.

  “Not sure.” Ignoring the patio swing, Galen settled into a dark wicker chair with a grunt of relief. In the future, he’d avoid kneeing a perp in the jaw. After leaning his cane against the chair, he stretched his leg out. “She’s upset about something.”

  Dan sat down across from him and handed over a beer. “All three of you almost died. The house could have blown up. She watched a man almost burn to death. You seriously expect her to be cheerful?”

  “No. But there are different kinds of upset. This one feels different.” Galen took a long pull of icy-cold liquid.

  From the window above came Kari’s soft laughter. But Sally’s infectious giggle was absent, and Galen felt the loss deep inside.

  “You’re a good enough Dom to know if something is off.” Dan’s eyes narrowed. “Thinking back, seems like she changed after she switched positions, from your arms to curling up against Vance. But I didn’t get the feeling she has a problem with having two men. And you’ve been sharing her all along.”

  “No, this isn’t related to threesome problems. I think it might be when Marcus reminded her that he’d been shot.” Galen frowned. If she’d remembered that, she’d also remember Raoul’s time in the hospital. And Vance had been shot twice now. And my chest looks like I went headfirst through a paper shredder. Far too much violence for a young woman who’d grown up on a farm rather than in a city. “She might have realized how dangerous our work can be.”

  “She knows. Hell, she works in my station.”

  “And she’s not doing well with it. The sight of blood bothers her, even more than violence. I’m going to try to talk her out of taking a position in a law-enforcement area.”

  “You fucking asshole. I just got the brass talked into offering her a job.”

  “Now there’s a pity.” Galen grinned briefly, then sobered. “Did Kari have trouble with your job?”

  “Oh yeah, for a few months. Now she’s okay. But from what you said, Sally has suffered more loss than Kari. And has less family.” He rose and looked down at Galen. “If she takes you on, she’ll have two lovers at risk every day. You going to ask that of her?”

  “Fuck.”

  “Yeah. You think about it. Better yet, talk about it. Fuck, I’ve learned recently that sometimes—Dom or not—there’s no understanding what’s in a woman’s head.” Dan tipped his bottle in a salute. “I’m going to see what Kari has planned for tomorrow. It’s Father’s Day—my first.”

  As Dan walked into the house, Galen repositioned his injured leg and tamped down his feeling of envy for the lucky bastard. Yeah, time to start looking toward the future.

  In the west, the sunset slowly faded, leaving behind pink streamers like the sad remnants of a party.

  * * * *

  Sally held Zane in her arms, swaying back and forth, nuzzling his neck. He smelled like soap and baby powder—and love. Something about holding him settled her. With an adorable grin, he hit her nose with the rattle he held.

  “Sheesh. I guess guys are just born violent,” she muttered.

  Kari finished putting away the stack of baby clothes and laughed. “Nah. My cousin’s daughter pulled her hair so often that she started wearing it on top of her head.” She pointed to the rocking chair in the corner. “Sit. He gets heavier with every minute you hold him.”

  Sally grinned and bounced Zane, making him squeal with laughter. “Yep, he’s definitely getting heavier.” After settling into the chair, she looked over at her friend. “Kari?”

  “Mmmhmm.” Another stack of clothing got tucked away.

  “Doesn’t Dan’s job ever bother you? That he could get hurt?”

  Kari turned, saw Sally’s expression, and sank down onto the ottoman. “Oh, you got the cop’s wife syndrome. No wonder, after today.”

  “Yeah.” She kissed Zane’s soft cheek, trying to keep the memories at bay.

  “Yes, it bothered me. A lot. Still kinda does.” She gave Sally a wry smile. “Although we talked about it, he could only promise that he’d be careful. The thing is, being a cop is who he is. Right down to the bone. And I can’t love him and ask him to be someone different.”

  “I guess.” Sally rocked a little faster, thrilling Zane, who decided to stand on her lap and bounce along. Didn’t sound as if there was a good answer. But she was sure she now knew how Galen had felt when he was worried about her safety. God, how did he stand it? She gave Kari a bright smile. “You and Dan look…happier.”

  “Last night was…” Kari sighed with a happy smile. “Like we were before Zane.” She rubbed a finger over her lips. “Maybe even lovelier.”

  “How’s that?”

  “We know each other better. I trust him even more because I’ve seen him with Zane. Dan really is as protective and caring and strong as I thought in the beginning. And when he cuddles our son, I just melt”—she gave Sally a mischievous look—“in a whole different way than seeing him in black leathers.”

  “You are too much.” Sally lifted Zane and blew a raspberry on his belly.

  “Sally, I owe you thanks for pushing me into talking with Dan,” Kari said softly. “And so I’m going to do you the same favor. Talk with your guys. It’s truly easy to decide someone is thinking about one thing, when really, you’ve got a whole different problem.”

  Hmm. And what had that discussion between Dan and Kari been about? Sally wondered. But she’d probably never know. Some women shared all. Others didn’t. Sally nodded. “I will. In fact, can I sit up here and sing lullabies to Zane while I think?”

  “Of course.”

  * * * *

  Galen rubbed his face. Exhaustion, aching bones, lacerations—God, he felt old. And frustrated. He’
d worried and worked to keep Sally safe, and instead she’d ended up front and center in a bloodbath. Insisted on being there. God, she was brave.

  The door to the house creaked; Sally stepped out on the patio. With just the sight of her, his muscles and bones and soul seemed to inhale contentment. She was alive. No longer in danger.

  She gave him an uncertain look, something he never wanted to see from her. “Can I join you or—”

  “I can’t think of anything I’d like better.” He reached out.

  She took his hand with cold fingers. Resisting his attempt to pull her onto his lap, she edged his legs apart and knelt between them.

  Seeing her unhappy expression, he wasn’t tempted by her provocative position. Instead he ran his hand down her silky hair. “Tell me.”

  She lowered her gaze…and he permitted it…for the moment. “Um,” she said and paused briefly. “I knew your job was dangerous, but I didn’t know—imagine—how dangerous. But you told me how you and Vance got shot up. I watched Tillman’s funeral. Saw his children.”

  Look at her, launching herself right at the heart of the matter. Before he’d known her—back when he’d just watched her in the club, she’d been a bossy little sub. Finding out that she’d hidden her emotions had come as a surprise. But now she was still a bossy little sub, and even better, she was hiding no longer. He was wicked proud of her. “Go on.”

  “I…I just wanted you to know that I’m struggling with it. I know I can’t ask you to give up your careers for safer ones, but…”

  He chuckled. “Seems we’ve been having the same arguments with ourselves. You see, Vance and I planned to ask you to not take a job in a police station because they stress you out.”

  “You’d choose my job for me?” A sparkle of anger lit in her eyes.

  Galen shook her head. No, she wouldn’t want to give up her dream of working in law enforcement. She wanted to be a hero.

  “Not because of the danger.” At the slight lift of her chin, he admitted, “Not entirely. But face it, pet, you don’t sleep well if you have to visit crime scenes.”

  “I haven’t noticed you sleeping all that well either, Mr. Big Shot Special Agent.”

  “I don’t have a pro—” He stopped his automatic…idiotic…response, because she was right. How many years had it been since he slept without worrying about problems? Or having nightmares?

  Each new case dragged him further toward—he stroked her hair and smiled—toward what the imp would call the dark side. If he continued, would he be able to fight his way free?

  Earlier, Z had stated the Association was finished, and Galen had been happy, feeling as if he’d stepped into the sunlight.

  Slowly but surely, his life had grown…narrower. Less balanced. Even with Sally to love, he didn’t see that changing.

  So, what was he planning to bring to a relationship? To Sally?

  As he looked down at the submissive at his feet, at his sweet imp, he knew he didn’t want to spend his life in darkness. Didn’t want to drag her down either, because, being Sally, she’d dive in to help.

  And she’d worry when he got pulled back into another case. She’d be right. He wasn’t able to distance himself from the cases he took. He never had been.

  Apparently, she wasn’t the only person who wanted to be a hero.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Several days later, Vance followed Galen onto their dock. Although his partner was using his cane more, his limp had returned to “normal.”

  In contrast, Vance could feel pain stab into his leg with each step. Fuck, he was getting old.

  But it was fucking nice to get out of the house. To be outside. And alive. Under his bare feet, the wood was damp and rough. A thunderstorm had passed through earlier, leaving the night air cool, almost crisp. Reflections of the house lights danced on the dark water.

  Turning to face Vance, Galen set one hip against a post, shook his head, and pointed at a chair. “Sit before you fall on your ass.”

  Ignoring the urge to remain standing to prove him wrong, Vance gingerly settled into a chair. “You wanted me out here—away from Sally. What’s up?”

  “I’m quitting the FBI.”

  Disbelief kept Vance silent as Galen talked. He’d break up their partnership? After everything they’d been through? The years together?

  When Galen fell silent, Vance realized he hadn’t heard a word. “Go through it again; I missed some.” All, actually.

  After a frown, Galen simply nodded and started over.

  This time, Vance managed to listen. To process. Mostly.

  Galen was talking about Sally’s worries for their safety. About his need to protect her—and not see her upset in her job. That fair was fair. That he was tired. That he got too involved with cases—although Vance figured obsessed would be more accurate. That it was time for a change.

  Galen stopped, looked at Vance for a minute, and turned to watch the water. Giving him space and time.

  Vance realized he was rubbing the itching wound on his leg and forced himself to stop. Another scar for Sally to play with, to add to the others he’d collected. Some agents retired without their bodies looking like a battleground. Sally had good reason to fear for her Doms.

  And if they died, she’d mourn them. She loved fiercely. Completely. She wouldn’t recover from their loss easily. The thought of hurting her in that way was difficult.

  Even worse was the thought of losing either her or Galen to violence. And, this was where Galen’s logic had obviously taken him. They couldn’t tolerate seeing Sally in danger; she felt the same about them.

  So Galen wanted to quit.

  Vance cleared his throat, unsettled at the rough sound. His partner turned, face dark, eyes remote, but Vance could read him. Always could, even from the start. Yeah, he loved the asshole, probably more than he’d have loved a real brother. “I’m not ready to quit the FBI.”

  As Galen’s mouth tightened, Vance knew his response had hit his partner like a knife stroke.

  Galen pulled in a breath. “I understand. I thought you might feel—”

  “You talked,” Vance interrupted. “Let me finish, you pushy bastard.”

  Galen blinked. His lips curved slightly as he stood straighter and crossed his arms over his chest in an intimidating alpha-male stance.

  Vance stretched his legs out, settling down into the chair in a body-language response of: I’m comfortable even if you are standing.

  Galen laughed.

  Yeah, how many people would understand the unspoken maneuverings and find them funny?

  Vance couldn’t see a life without Galen. And he didn’t want his loved ones’ terrified every day he went to work. There was a compromise, though. “I’m not ready to leave, but we’ve both turned down advancement into supervisory positions. Let me see if I can’t move into one of those. As long as they can station me here.”

  “Seriously?”

  “You’re right, bro. It’s time to get off the firing line. I might be three years younger, but I’m tired of waking up in a hospital.”

  Galen sank into a chair. “Didn’t think you’d take this so well.”

  “I’m the flexible one, remember?” Vance tipped his head back. The moon was rising, a waning ball of light glowing over the treetops. The lake was quiet. Peaceful. Yeah, he was tired of cold winters. Snow. Could see sitting out here with a beer after the kids went to bed. “What will you do? Can’t see you retiring.” Couldn’t see him giving up the thrill of the chase, either.

  “I’m looking at starting an investigative company, specializing in locating whatever is missing—money, information, people. I have enough contacts to get it up and running.”

  Would probably work, Vance thought. The clever bastard had a Master’s in business as well as criminology. He’d even started off in the white-collar crime division.

  “I’ll manage. We’ll hire people for the fieldwork. To travel. Sally can do her computer magic from here.”

  Vance�
��s mouth curved into a smile. “Clever. Very clever. You’re going to lure her away from corpses and blood-streaked apartments.”

  Galen opened his hand. “Want in?”

  Vance considered. He’d enjoy the work, and it was appealing to keep the partnership together. But no. “I want a few more years with the Feds. But after that, yes.” He shook his head. “Might be good to have a bit more space anyway…if we’re going to make this a formal sort of relationship.”

  “I’m not sure how to do that,” Galen admitted. “Sally deserves a fancy wedding as well as legal protection.”

  “Well, now, I’ve been thinking about that.”

  * * * *

  Inside, Sally ended the call on her cell with mixed emotions.

  Tate had been calling each week…just to get to know her again. This evening, after regaling her with Emma and Dylan stories, he’d mentioned their father. Apparently the children had told their friends about the fiasco of a dinner party…and what Sally had said. Sally was still remembered fondly by the townspeople. Her father was now being avoided.

  She sighed, trying to pull up either anger or satisfaction or pity, but found an absence of any deep emotion. Her father truly wasn’t part of her life anymore.

  And she had a new family.

  Detouring to the kitchen, she glanced out the back door. Two men sitting at the end of the dock. No change there, dammit.

  Growling to herself, Sally went into the great room. At least Glock would be some company. She dropped down on the couch and pulled Glock into her lap. After an indignant look, the cat stood and arranged himself more comfortably—in the same position.

  “Jeez, you and Galen are real control freaks, aren’t you?” She scratched his chin.

  His rumbling purr was both agreement and enjoyment.

  At least someone was content. Well, apparently everyone except her. Her two men had finished their beers long ago and now just sat outside. Talking and laughing—easy laughter, which she hadn’t heard in far too long.

  Fine.

  Although three days had passed, Galen hadn’t mentioned their talk at Kari’s house and her concerns. That sure didn’t seem fair. He was always after her to express her emotions, and now he was ignoring her?

 

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