Safeguard (NYC Doms)

by Jane Henry

  “Fuck you.”

  His grip tightens, and I let out an involuntary squeak. Tears blind my eyes, and I look helplessly to Carter, but his eyes are cast down as he marches beside me in silence.

  “Open the door,” Judson says. I look wildly about us, knowing that if he pulls me into this building that looms in front of us, we’re not exactly sitting down for a cup of coffee. The further I get away from civilization, the less of a chance I get for calling for help. My stomach clenches as I look around me, and his grip becomes so tight I can hardly breathe.

  “You say a word to anyone, I’ll shoot him dead, Beatrice.” Judson flicks the edge of his jacket, revealing the gleam of a silver revolver tucked in the waistband of his pants. He’ll shoot Carter? I look quickly to Carter, who doesn’t meet my eyes. His jaw is tight, his nostrils flaring. What the hell is going on?

  Carter steps in front of us, waves a keycard, and I hear the click of a door unlocking. Carter wrenches it open, the bottom of the door squeaking along the concrete like nails on a chalkboard.

  “After you, my lady,” Judson says with fake courtesy, and I consider stomping the top of his shiny shoe and kneeing him in the groin. But would he shoot Carter? Would I care?

  Hell yes, I would. Even though he betrayed me.

  I step inside the doorway, taking in every detail around me. There has to be some way for me to get out of here, some way to notify others. Some way for Zack to find me. My mind is a jumble of confused thoughts, though. I mean, not an hour ago I was telling him to leave me the hell alone. I was furious at him for having someone watch me and give me rules, but now, here in the dim light of a flickering street lamp, looking into the sinister eyes of Judson, I want nothing more than Zack’s arms around me. This is a hell of a time to be having regrets, but shit, I can’t help it.

  Maybe I was wrong. I was so fucking wrong.

  He pulls me into a narrow hallway that smells of sweat and desperation. I walk beside him silently, contemplating my options. If I twist my arm and knee him, I could get his gun, and then…

  And then what? I have no phone. I have no way of getting out of here, and no idea what Carter would do even if by some miracle I was able to get away from Judson.

  “Why, Carter?” I ask, as Judson leads me to a room that looks like it was once well-kept. There’s a dim chandelier overhead, a gleaming table with an assortment of chairs, and books on shelves. It looks like some sort of library. Judson removes his weapon and points at a chair for me to sit in.

  “Sit.”

  “I just want to know why,” I say to Carter. “I did nothing to either of you, and out of the blue you kidnap me? What the fuck is this?”

  “You were marrying a man beneath you,” Judson says, laying his gun down on a small table with cold precision. “Years ago, you were betrothed to me, Beatrice.”

  “I was never betrothed to you,” I sputter. “Are you out of your mind?”

  Carter’s eyes widen as he looks from me to Judson, confirming what I say is true.

  Fuck.

  He’s insane.

  “Mom said you were engaged to a,” Carter pauses, making air quotes, “‘blue collar man.’ Someone beneath your station and rank in life. She contacted me, asked me to keep an eye on you, and make you uncomfortable.”

  Mom? My mother?

  “What?” I whisper. “Make me… uncomfortable?”

  He half-shrugs a shoulder. “She seemed to think that if I somehow pitted you against your fiancé, that Judson could move in.”

  “Mom… what? This makes no sense.”

  Judson smirks in a way that makes my toes curl. “It makes perfect sense, Beatrice. She wants you with me, because joining our families means uniting two of the most lucrative companies in America. It’s why they wanted us together to begin with. You were the one that decided to fuck things up. And now it’s my job to make things work again. To keep peace in the family, if you will.”

  “By kidnapping me,” I whisper. “And forcing me to—what?”

  His eyes darken. “Marry me,” he says.

  I get to my feet but he’s too fast, his hand on the gun, and a shot rings out like thunder. I scream, my ears ringing, as glass shatters and the lights dim. He’s shot the chandelier. Holy shit. The man is out of his fucking mind.

  I swallow and try to get my bearings. “And what the hell do you have to do with all this, Carter?”

  Carter looks away, frowning.

  “He needed money,” Judson says. “Hard to keep a heroin habit going when mommy and daddy weren’t doing handouts anymore. She decided she’d get him to do her dirty work by giving him money. Only I offered far more than she did.”

  “I see,” I say, swallowing the lump in my throat. He’s betrayed me. He’s kidnapped me and brought me to this psychopath for money. I stare at Judson, willing myself to stay calm. “So what I’m supposed to do is pretend that somehow, magically, this is alright. That you haven’t kidnapped me. And then… what? Go off and marry you and we live happily ever after?”

  The grin dims on Judson’s face. “You think I’m stupid, don’t you?” he asks. I suddenly realize I’ve made a terrible mistake. He’s out of his mind, and I’m stirring the hornet’s nest. He gets to his feet, eyes cold with fury. “No. You’ll announce that you’ve broken off your engagement with Officer Williams. You’ll cut ties with whatever losers you’ve befriended in the city, and you’ll come with me. We’ll go to your parents and announce our engagement. And then you’ll play nice.”

  “Why?” I whisper.

  He stalks to me and I try to pull away but there’s nowhere to go. He gets so close to me I can smell stale whiskey and the scent of his overpowering, expensive cologne. My stomach roils as he reaches for both my wrists and pins them to my sides. “I can make it worth your while,” he whispers. “You like pain? I can work with that, sweetheart.” Little hairs on my neck stand on end, my skin prickling as if pelted with tiny bits of hail, cold and shocking. I shiver at his touch, and I’m blinded with the need to escape, to get out of here, to get to Zack. Without thinking, I yank my knee up. Just in time, he blocks the blow, rears back, and smacks the side of my head with the butt of his gun. I scream at the sound of a second gunshot, dizzy from the blow, and hear a second, dismal, manly scream.

  I gasp at the sight of a pool of blood on the ground, Carter grabbing at his side.

  “You shot him,” I whisper.

  “You bitch,” Judson growls, pushing me down on the couch. “You like to be put in your place? I’ll put you in your fucking place.” He punches the side of my face again, and the taste of wet metal explodes in my mouth. I whimper at a third and fourth blow. I’m losing consciousness, my head spinning as if I’m twirling on a merry-go-round. I bring my arms up instinctively to block the blows, as he hits me again and again until I can hardly move from the dull pain. He pushes me down and he’s on top of me, his weight oppressive and sickening. I’m dimly aware of the whir of a zipper.

  “You bitch,” he growls. “I’ll show you who you fucking belong to.” I realize with a shocking stab of fear that he’s going to take me, rape me, destroy me.

  I’ll kill him first.

  I scream like a rabid animal as he tears at my clothes, fabric ripping with finality, when a sound I can’t quite identify makes Judson sit up and whip his head around. He reaches for his gun at the sound of pounding feet and shouts coming our way.

  “In here!” shouts Carter, still conscious in his blood on the floor, screaming for someone to get us. I shove Judson, but when he tumbles, he takes me with him. We fall to the floor and my vision blurs as my head strikes concrete. Then he’s lifted off me and a dull sound of flesh hitting flesh assaults me. I curl into a ball and duck my head, trying to keep myself safe.

  “I’ll fucking kill him.” I know that voice. I blink and look up the furious face of Zack. He has Judson by the arms and he lifts him just high enough to knee him then drop him on the floor. Armed, uniformed officers surround us, but I’m n
o longer aware of anything after I see Judson cuffed, because now Zack has me. He has me.

  “You came for me,” I say, as he lifts me straight up into his arms and away from the crowd of people who’ve infiltrated this small room. “How did you find me? How did you know?”

  “Shhh, baby,” he says, holding me tight. “There will be time for talking later. Not now, doll. Let’s get you safe and better.” He kneels, me still in his arms, and cradles me on his lap. Cupping my chin in his hand, he lifts my eyes to his, the warm depth of chocolate brown eyes meeting mine with tenderness and sadness as his gaze sweeps over my bruised and broken face. “You’re safe now, Beatrice.” He brushes back a strand of hair, leans down, and tenderly kisses the apple of my cheek, then brushes his lips against mine. I taste salt and metal, my tears and blood intermingling in the kiss that brings us back together. “You’re safe now,” he repeats. Closing my eyes, I lean my head on his chest, and begin to cry.

  “And when she told me how to find your brother, it was an easy matter to track where they’d been. The man I had on you? He caught the plate and tailed you all the way here. We lost the connection and I thought he was compromised, but he had enough to go on and called it in. He wouldn’t go in without backup on my orders, but as soon as we arrived, we swarmed the place.”

  We’re sitting at a small, circular table at the hospital. There’s a little café with coffee and tea after hours. Carter is being observed upstairs. He’s sustained injuries and significant blood loss, but he’s fine. I’m happy to hear that. Zack doesn’t give a shit.

  “Officer Williams?” A young man with a shock of red hair and pale skin tips his head into the doorway. “Mr. and Mrs. Moore have arrived to see Carter.” Zack gets to his feet and takes my hand, just as my mother and father come running inside.

  “Where is he?” My mother seems to think causing a scene is the best way to get sympathy, as she demands to know Carter’s whereabouts at the front desk.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Moore.”

  Zack’s eyes are hard as flint, his voice sharp, as he gets their attention. It was only by pulling strings Zack was able to tend to my injuries himself, and forbid my being admitted. My parents spin around and look at us, my mother’s eyes narrowing at the sight of Zack holding my hand. My father, however, rushes to me.

  “Beatrice,” he murmurs. “Are you okay?”

  I nod, but I step back and let Zack do his thing. I trust him to do what needs to be done. He was right. And now he’s going to see that justice is served.

  “Yes, sir, Beatrice is fine. I am, however, going to have to order your wife brought into custody and questioned.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” my mother sputters.

  Now, I speak up.

  “It is not.” I look at my father when I speak. “Carter had me kidnapped at Judson’s command. By their admission, mom put him up to this. She had Carter stalk me to make me uneasy and break up with Zack. She is the one who started all this. I don’t even want to look at her.”

  “Beatrice!” Her voice is pleading, and when I look to her for the first time ever I see how wan her face is, the liver spots on her hands pronounced against pale, thin skin.

  My father looks from me to Zack, then nods slowly. “You rescued her?” he asks.

  Zack pulls me tighter against him. “Yes, sir.”

  “Thank you,” he says. Then he takes a step back from mom. “Do what you need to, officer.”

  Chapter 18

  I’m pulled from sleep suddenly, sitting straight up in bed, and quickly assessing what woke me. Beatrice is tangled in the sheets, thrashing, her eyes still closed.

  “Baby,” I say, wrapping my strong arms around her to stop the flailing limbs. She continues to writhe, harder now, so I sharpen my voice to get her attention. “Beatrice. Stop.” She freezes, trained to obey that tone, and her lids flutter open, blue pools of fear, until she meets my gaze. Then her brow softens, and she drops her head to my chest.

  “Zack,” she breathes. “Thank God you’re here.” Poor thing’s still shaken from what happened and hell, I don’t blame her. I want to drag the men responsible out of jail and beat them senseless.

  We lay in the silence. Her heart thumps like the beating of a drum against my bare chest. I hold her tight until her breathing slows and I think she’s fallen back asleep. But then she reaches out for my face and runs her palm along the scruff of my beard. She needs to be sure of me. I close my eyes, inhale, and hold her even tighter. I’m not a praying man but in this moment, I give thanks for the warmth of her skin flush against mine, the sweet smell of lilacs in her hair, and the sound of her breathing returning to normal.

  Until I thought I lost her, I’d made up my mind. I was a dominant, through and through, and I’d never be with a woman who couldn’t be my submissive. I never have and never would. But here, in the dark, holding her close like this, I realize I was wrong. I could give it up for her. I love her.

  We’d decided it best not to talk things over tonight, not when the pain of everything is still so raw. I checked her wounds and helped her strip out of her clothes to take a shower. I’d scrubbed her myself, soft and slow and gentle, until her shoulders drooped with exhaustion, then I towel-dried her off, brushed her hair, and tucked her into bed. My heart was full.

  What I wanted was a woman to take care of. Beatrice gave that to me.

  “I was wrong, Zack,” she whispers, trailing her hand down the side of my face to my shoulder, her small hand tucked into the hollow of my neck.

  “We don’t need to talk about this now, doll,” I begin.

  “Please, sir.”

  Sir?

  “You don’t have to do this, Beatrice,” I say as gently as I can. “I don’t have to be your sir. I can just be… your man. Just Zack.”

  She shakes her head on my chest and lifts her face, her eyes vivid with unshed tears. “But I want this. I want you. I want all of it.”

  I push the hair out of her eyes and tuck it behind her head, still slightly damp, then gently smooth my thumb over the purplish bruise on her cheek.

  “I could kill him,” I whisper. “I could fucking kill him for laying hands on you. He ever touches you again, I’ll break every one of his fingers, one by one.”

  She swallows, her whisper matching mine as she responds. “I know.”

  Another beat passes in silence as she slowly turns herself so she’s resting her chin on her hand and looking up at me.

  “You are so fucking beautiful,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “And so brave, baby.”

  “Do you really think so?” There’s a desperation I’ve never heard in her voice.

  “God, yes,” I say, nodding. I draw my fingers through her hair and her lids flutter shut, as I gently knead my fingers along the back of her neck. “You were raised with money, baby, but handicaps. And you’ve overcome that. You’ve made a life for yourself, and you’ve done it well. You have jobs you do. You have friends who love you.” I smile at her and tweak her nose. “A boyfriend who loves you.” Her eyes flutter open.

  “Don’t you mean a dom?” she asks softly, then bites her lip. There’s a question in her eyes. Does she want me to be her dom? I won’t push it. But hell, I want to give her what she needs.

  “That’s up to you. You need to know I’m sorry,” I say. “I fucked up, baby. I never should’ve done what I did without telling you. It was wrong of me and I need to apologize.”

  She nods. “You were right, though. I needed someone to watch me. Those guys were sick and if you’d told me you had someone watching me, I’d have flipped my lid.” She frowns. “Okay so I kinda did.”

  I can’t help but chuckle. I clip her gently under the chin. “You’re so damn cute.”

  She sighs, turns her head, and rests her cheek against my chest. I hold her there, just listening to her breathing. I softly rub her back, feeling the warm, supple skin beneath my hands.

  Earlier today, I thought she was lost. And now she’s mine again. I’ll move
heaven and earth to keep it that way.

  “So brave,” I whisper. “And so strong.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of, you know,” she says. “I was afraid that if I submitted to you that I was somehow weak. Dependent on you. Unable to take care of myself, you know?”

  “Mhm.”

  “You know, Diana set me straight earlier.”

  I bite back a smile. I had a feeling she would. I’ll buy Diana the best damn wedding gift money can buy. “Oh?”

  “She told me that what was really holding me back wasn’t anything but fear. You know? And she was right. God, she was so right. I was afraid that submitting to you meant I was somehow weaker. Not strong.”

  “Hell, baby, it takes incredible strength to submit. You think I’d have the balls to kneel before someone and grant them authority? Hell no.”

  She giggles, the sound musical and fucking adorable. “It’s not easy.”

  “It’s not easy, and it’s not a sign of weakness. You willingly give me that submission, doll. That takes strength. And it’s beautiful.”

  “Thank you.”

  I listen to her heart beating with mine, and I know I want this forever. Always.

  “Diana was right, Zack,” Beatrice says, her voice stronger now. “When she said I was afraid. And God, Zack. It’s true.” She swallows. “She says when I face my fears, I build trust with you.”

  “When we do,” I say, squeezing her hand by my side.

  She sighs in contentment and turns to face me. “Yes, sir. I love you.”

  I reach down and kiss her forehead. “And I love you.” I tug a lock of her golden hair. “Does that mean I still get to spank that ass?”

  She grins at me, a flash of pearly white in the darkness. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Epilogue

  Two months later