“Stay away from him or I swear, I will go to the highest paying bidder and tell them all about this place. Every, single, sordid little detail that people can only wonder at right now… I will reveal all. Including names of the men I just walked past… the stuff you do… the secrets Barlow peddled… the lies you preach.”
She wasn’t sorry and that was the thing that angered Daltrey throughout their confrontation. She refused to apologise or admit this was all wrong. She knew she was causing Dante heartache and pain and yet she continued to string him along.
Seemingly calm, she said gently, “Just who do you think you are talking to?”
“You tell me.”
“I have more power than you know.”
“Oh yeah?”
Beneath her riding clothes and that stupid white crop, she looked… like she was hiding something. “The men under my command will do whatever I tell them to. They don’t just love me, they worship the ground I walk on. They’re addicts, fools… and they love me for my bloody mindedness.”
“I know your sort,” he insisted, “convincing, calculated, menacing. You may have everyone else fooled, but not me love. Not me.”
“Pity you don’t know your brother’s sort.”
He scowled. “I beg your pardon?”
“He likes it up him. He does. He likes it deep in him, buried up his backside. Like all the men do. Ooh, they love to know how it would feel to be a woman, penetrated, their souls pulled out of their arse… pricked inside… cum flying out of them as we fuck them. Ooh, but you don’t know your brother much, do you?”
“Shut the hell up, you bitch.” Daltrey couldn’t believe his language but this woman warranted it.
“He likes to be spread, wide. He’s also fond of torture. You should see his face light up when he has a piece of leather put between his teeth.”
“Lies… damn lies. All he wants is someone to love but he’s too bloody scared. You threaten to break him completely. Now I’m asking you nicely, leave him alone or I swear, I will destroy this place. I swear it. I’m not to be trifled with, not like him. There is no way I would allow someone like you to corrupt me. I see it in your eyes. Right there.”
She smiled, in a sickly way, trying to look innocent when she was anything but. “You can go now you’ve said your bit.”
“I want assurance you will leave Dante alone.”
Even when she smiled, she wasn’t pretty. In fact she looked uglier because her smiles were fake – plastered on. “I cannot promise he won’t stay away. We don’t even fuck and he still can’t get enough.”
He laughed, because this was unbelievable. How did women like this get away with it?
“Stay away from my brother, I’m warning you,” he growled.
“I said you’re no longer welcome here,” she repeated, but he wasn’t done.
“You don’t love my brother.”
“Oh yes I do.”
“Nah, you’re a user.”
He saw a fury building inside her, growing. “I’m nothing you’d expect.”
“How so?” he challenged her.
“I’m protecting him if you must know.”
He laughed, manically outraged. “You’ll stay away from him, or I will end Pernox.”
“It’s his choice how he lives his life.”
“You’re older, you should know better.”
“I didn’t mean to fall for him.” Finally, she looked in defeat, like she might admit the foulness which kept her dangling Dante’s sanity like a carrot.
“Why didn’t you?”
“It’s complicated.”
“How?”
“It just is.”
“You don’t fucking love him, so leave him alone!” he protested.
“If I don’t love him, then why am I trying to save him?”
“Save him how, you witch.” He didn’t consider his tone harsh, deciding her worthy of it.
“I didn’t mean to fall for him, didn’t mean to get close. But I see something in him.”
He stared at her, unconvinced she had anything good to say whatsoever. “What do you see in him?”
“A soul, trapped.”
“Trapped, by what?”
“Terrors of the past.”
Perhaps she was right about that… but anyone off the street could see Dante had problems of some sort. It didn’t take a genius to work that out.
“Just how did a waster like you end up in charge here,” he goaded, treating her as badly as possible. He wanted to push and shove her conscience – get her to admit she was wrong and should end it with Dante.
“You tell me,” she said, petulant.
“I think you’ve shagged your way up the ladder.”
“No.”
He smirked. “No?”
“No.”
“I think you’re poison,” he said, so viciously, something visibly snapped in her.
“You see only what you want to see. You don’t see the fix I’m in.”
“What, fix? What?”
She held her tongue, trying to walk away.
He stopped her, demanding, “What fix?”
She swallowed hard. “Ask your father.”
“Ask him what.”
“Ask him about Stacey Jones, Bryony Peters, Elizabeth Basil, Clare Waldon and Jackie Haddock. They were all girls here in the 80s and 90s and they were his girls. Until each one, one by one, went missing and never returned. Why don’t you ask him what happened to them? Why don’t you ask him about why he’s banned from here?”
“What are you talking about?” he asked, exasperated.
There was no pause as she excitedly confessed, “Finally, Barlow caught him about to take another one away from Pernox and we had proof, he was stealing our girls. Barlow almost emptied his own private funds trying to find the ones which had gone missing… but nothing. He found zilch. Your father is much cleverer than he would let people know, and much more concerned with carrying out misdeeds than running his own shoddy, business.”
“WHAT?”
Her face had no colour or expression. “We have no proof. All Barlow knew was that each of these girls was sweet on Dick before they disappeared. Barlow died a miserable death, his body riddled with stress. You have no idea what we do here, do you?”
“No.”
“We keep the men in charge of this country sane.”
“WHAT?” He didn’t believe any of this.
“How would it have looked, going to the police about these missing girls? This place would’ve shut down, our reputation ruined. The whole thing, dead. Our safe haven would no longer exist and all our clients… with nowhere safe and secure to go. Barlow ended Dick’s association here and the disappearances stopped. What more could he have done?”
Daltrey went silent.
His father… a kidnapper… possible serial killer?
Or were the women still hidden away somewhere?
“What are you telling me?”
“Dante is a couple of disasters away from a breakdown. You tell him this, it’ll destroy him. He’s so much like him, you know…”
Daltrey couldn’t disagree, but…
“I’m trying to teach him how to submit, how to serve. He’s getting there, I promise you,” she argued, but Daltrey didn’t trust anything she said.
“I’m going to speak to my father,” he said, “and we’ll see what he says…”
DALTREY went and spoke to his father, who denied everything.
However Daltrey wasn’t satisfied and searched his father’s study one day, finding a trophy cabinet containing a pile of old knickers.
When he asked his father who the knickers belonged to, Dick claimed they were just bits of underwear that had dropped off the back of a lorry at one of his clothing warehouses.
There were over thirty pairs stowed.
Thirty.
At least.
A few days later, Daltrey was dead.
He knew too much.
Shay had known too m
uch as well.
After Daltrey was murdered, she rarely left Pernox – afraid for her life.
She’d always known that if Dante knew Dick was a killer, it would destroy him.
She’d tested him to see if he was the same as Dick but she’d pushed him too far – pushed him away, even. She tried to protect him from himself, showing him how much better it was to be subservient. She’d vowed to keep the secret and knew that if she was with him, he would discover it.
Somehow though, it had all got messed up and she’d wronged him.
She’d known if she ever got close to him, she’d have to tell Dante what she had long known about Dick’s former dommes – and their disappearances.
It was a conundrum.
A no-win situation.
A tragedy.
A fix there was really no escape from, no solution to – and no happy outcome for any involved.
TO BE CONTINUED . . .
Book Three in the series…
will release in 2017
Note from the Author
Dear reader,
If this has been a rollercoaster ride for you, let me tell you – I’ve spilled so much more popcorn and drink on this ride than anyone else on earth. Everything has hurtled out of me so fast, I feel like I now need to give Ciara some time to live again in order to give me more story to write. So I am not making any promises about the release of the other books in this series. Please have patience while I finish this series in the way that it deserves. If you want to keep in touch with me, the best way is by signing up to my newsletter on this link: http://eepurl.com/bWYDuf
As always, please, please write a review – spoiler free if possible – and tag me on social media when you do. I’m on Facebook, Twitter, Wordpress, Pinterest, Instagram and many more platforms I’ve forgotten about.
Sarah x
Also by the Author
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A Fine Profession
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Chambermaid: Pocket Sized
The Radical (as S. M. Lynch)
The Informant (as S. M. Lynch)
The Sentient (as S. M. Lynch)
Unbind
Unfurl
Unleash
Dom Diaries
Angel Avenue
Beyond Angel Avenue
Fabien: a Vampire Serial
They Say I’m Doing Well
Tainted Lovers
The Contract
The Fix
Other titles coming soon
About the Author
Sarah knew from about the age of eight that whatever she did in life, it would no doubt involve words.
After achieving a degree in English, the world of journalism almost swallowed her whole but thankfully a period of maternity leave gave her that small window of opportunity to write creatively whenever her baby slept, which was thankfully often.
Since then, Sarah has taken up editing as a career but still writes everyday too. The Contract is her fifteenth novel and Sarah writes everything from sci-fi, to paranormal, erotica and romance. She will admit her favourite genre to write is suspense.
You can find Sarah on all the usual social networks but she favours Twitter, where you can find her on this handle: @SarahMichelleLy
The Fix (Nightlong Series Book 2) Page 36