Knight (An Impossible Novel)

by Sykes, Julia

  Closing my eyes, I sank into the memory.

  I was dimly aware of Kate speaking to me, her hand touching my shoulder insistently.

  I ignored her.

  I would stay with Master. Master would keep me safe. He would take care of me.

  * * * *

  “Hey, Lydia.” I instantly recognized Clayton’s kind, rumbling voice as it drifted down to me. “You should get up and eat something.”

  I ignored him, too. He wanted me to return to the present. He wanted to ask me questions.

  But I wasn’t going anywhere. I was going to stay with Master.

  Several beats of silence passed before Clayton sighed resignedly.

  “Lydia.” His voice was deep, commanding. “Sit up. Now.”

  My limbs jerked, instinctively moving to obey the order of a Dominant. I squeezed my eyes shut tighter and resolutely resisted the urge.

  “I won’t tell you again.” This time, a hint of a threat darkened his hard tone.

  Stiffly, I unfurled my arms from around my knees and stretched out my legs from where they had been curled up to my chest. Even once I had pushed myself into a sitting position at the edge of the bed, I didn’t look up at Clayton. I didn’t allow my vision to focus on anything so that I could remain in some sort of blank limbo where nothing was real. If nothing was real, then nothing could hurt me.

  A foil wrapper crinkled, and a half-unwrapped protein bar appeared in front of my face.

  “Eat.”

  Mechanically, I opened my mouth and bit into it. The strawberry and oatmeal flavors tasted like ashes in my mouth. I gagged as my body rebelled against the sustenance.

  “Swallow.”

  The order helped give me the resolve to force my tongue and throat to work.

  “Again. Finish it.”

  I blindly obeyed. Following orders was easy. I didn’t have to think. I fell further into my fantasy, a blissfully simple reality in which I had no responsibilities, no cares, no will of my own.

  A small, round blue pill appeared in Clayton’s large hand.

  “Take it.”

  My fingers shook slightly, but I popped it into my mouth. Clayton held a glass of water to my lips, and I drank.

  His heat withdrew from me. I didn’t move.

  He cursed under his breath.

  “Lie down.”

  I settled back down on my side, closing my eyes as I resumed my earlier protective position.

  Clayton began murmuring, but his words weren’t aimed at me.

  “You need to get your ass here. Now.”

  Pause.

  “No. She’s a mess. And I don’t know how to deal with this.”

  Pause.

  “I tried that. I don’t know how you did it, but I just can’t. It feels so wrong.”

  A part of my mind registered that Clayton was talking to someone on the phone. I couldn’t summon up any curiosity over whom he was speaking to. What he was doing didn’t concern me. What I thought didn’t matter.

  “Stop angsting like a teenage girl and get your ass to Chicago. She needs you right now. You can go back to beating yourself up about it later.”

  Clayton stopped talking. His conversation was finished. The chair in the corner of the room creaked slightly as he settled down onto it with a sigh.

  I went back to ignoring him. Whatever pill he had given me made that even easier as it further cushioned my mind in fluffy clouds.

  * * * *

  The door clicked open. One pair of footsteps entered, another exited. The door thudded closed softly.

  “Open your eyes, Lydia.”

  My fantasy was becoming remarkably vivid. Or maybe it wasn’t a fantasy after all. I wasn’t sure anymore.

  The sense of power that always pulsed around Master enfolded me like a tangible thing. I reveled in it, mentally drawing it closer, welcoming it to smother me and put an end to everything that wasn’t him.

  “Look at me, girl.” The command was sharper this time, cutting through my haze with painfully sweet clarity.

  My eyes snapped open. His steady silver stare was the most beautiful thing I could ever recall seeing.

  “Master.” His name was a relieved, ragged whisper as it clawed its way up my ravaged throat.

  I was instantly on my knees before him. The scent of amber and whiskey washed over me, bringing with it a wave of calm.

  God, this was so much better than any fantasy.

  Tears of joy sprang to my eyes when his large, warm hand settled on the top of my head, his fingers working through my hair. Sighing happily, I leaned against him, giving myself to him completely.

  “You’re okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

  For a few glorious minutes, the world was exactly as it should be: blissfully calm, perfectly simple.

  But a dull sense of panic began pulsing insistently at the back of my mind. For some reason I couldn’t quite grasp, Master’s presence was inducing a sharp fear within me.

  My eyes darted around the room of their own accord, searching for a window. I found nothing but blank, pale yellow walls. But my terror only increased as the worry ratcheted up another notch.

  Master’s hand stilled its steady stroking.

  “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

  I scrambled away from him with a gasp. Something was wrong. Master couldn’t be here. He couldn’t be with me.

  “You have to leave,” I insisted shakily.

  His expression tightened, and pain flashed across his gorgeous eyes. He gave me a short nod.

  “Fair enough,” he bit out.

  He turned to leave, and I couldn’t bear the sight of the tension in his shoulders as he clenched his fists at his sides.

  “Wait!”

  He pivoted, raising a cool eyebrow at me.

  “I don’t want you to go.”

  His lips thinned to a dangerous line. “You really should make up your mind, girl. I won’t tolerate this much longer.” His nostrils flared angrily, but the tight lines around his eyes betrayed hurt.

  I shook my head against the increasing pain of my dawning realization.

  “I don’t want you to leave. But if he knows you’re with me… He’ll kill you. Just like… He killed Tucker. Oh, god, he killed Tucker!” I shrieked the last words, tangling my fingers in my hair as I tried to physically rip the image of his terrified eyes from my mind.

  Master’s hands closed around my wrists, firmly halting my efforts to tear out my hair. He crouched down beside me where I was sprawled on the floor and wrapped his arms around me, lifting me up and cradling me against his chest.

  He murmured a stream of soothing words as I cried against him, my punishing sobs ripping their way up my abused throat. I realized it was raw from my screaming as I had fought the people who pried me away from Tucker’s body.

  His body.

  The soulless shell I had left bleeding on the living room floor hadn’t been Tucker anymore.

  Tucker was dead. My first love, my one-time partner, my lifelong friend, was gone.

  I had taken back the parts of myself that the Bastard had stolen from me, and in retaliation, he had taken Tucker.

  When my ribs felt like they would crack if my chest convulsed one more time, my body finally gave up on sobbing. I heaved in deep, shuddering breaths. My lungs burned in protest of the sudden overdose of oxygen.

  “That’s it, sweetheart,” Master said softly. “Breathe.”

  He touched his lips to my forehead, and a delighted shiver raced across my skin, through my soul. The pure comfort elicited by the gesture gave me the courage to speak again, to face the horror of my current reality.

  “What…” I swallowed. “What’s happening now?”

  His hand cupped my jaw, angling my face so I was staring up at him. I drank in the sight of him hungrily now that my lucidity had fully returned to me.

  “CPD is working with the Chicago branch of the FBI to track the sniper.” He wasn’t cautious or careful in the way he delivered the informat
ion. He spoke to me calmly, steadily. It helped quiet my own mind as I absorbed what he was saying.

  “Based on the bullet’s trajectory, the shooter was situated on the roof of the apartment block across the street from Tucker’s townhouse. We’ve been going through traffic cameras in the area to see if we can get an ID on the guy, but the feed was looped on every camera in the area within an hour window of the shooting.”

  His expression was grim, angry.

  “We still don’t have any leads on the Bastard’s identity. Whoever the fuck he is, he’s got way too much knowledge of how to cover up the evidence that would help our investigation to be an ordinary civilian.” His eyes were regretful as they focused back on me. “I’m sorry, Lydia. Can you tell me what happened from your perspective? Anything you saw, no matter how insignificant it seems, might help us.”

  I shuddered. What I had seen wasn’t remotely insignificant. Now that I was no longer shutting it away, I found the memory readily available in sharp, horrible detail. It was burned into my brain as though by a brand.

  “Tuck-” His name stuck in my throat. “We were in the living room.”

  The image of Tucker’s soft, fond smile as he placed his wedding ring in my hand and kissed my knuckles made me flinch.

  Master’s thumb traced the line of my jaw soothingly, his touch keeping me tethered to him.

  “The TV turned on, and…” I swallowed against the metallic tang in the back of my throat. “There was a video of me. And him.” I cringed. I hadn’t realized he had been filming me. The idea of that Bastard having those days of my torment readily available for him to enjoy again and again made my gut clench painfully. I had thought I was free from him, but he still owned pieces of me.

  “What was happening in the video?” Master’s voice was tight as he pressed me. He didn’t want to hear it any more than I wanted to say it. But if it could help the FBI catch the man who had taken Tuck from me, I would tell him.

  “He was raping me.” My voice was barely audible. Master’s muscles flexed around me as he fought to physically contain his fury. I forced myself to continue on. “Then his voice… He said, ‘I don’t share my toys.’ And then… Then he shot Tucker.”

  I stared up at Master – at Smith – imploringly.

  “Please leave,” I rasped. “He’ll kill you too if he knows I’ve been with you.” I couldn’t live with it if anything happened to him because of me. My mind had refused to function in the face of Tucker’s death. It would shatter completely if Smith was taken from me as well. No amount of therapy would be able to heal my broken soul if I lost both of them.

  Smith’s arms tightened around me as his eyes glinted steel.

  “If you think for one second that I’m going to leave you because I’m afraid of that Bastard, you really have lost your goddamn mind, sweetheart.”

  “I’m afraid,” I countered softly. “Please, Master. Please go.” I used his title in a show of supplication, praying he would listen to the respectful request. I suspected an outright demand would only make him dig in his heels further.

  But my tactic made no difference.

  “I’m not going anywhere.” His firm promise filled me with despair. “You’ll accept that, girl.”

  But I wasn’t his slave anymore. I never had been. The right to refuse him, to defy him, had always been mine. I just hadn’t realized it before.

  “No. I won’t accept it,” I declared staunchly. “Leave, Smith.” I pushed against his chest in order to free myself from his hold. He didn’t even seem aware of my efforts.

  His brows rose in surprise as he drew in a shocked breath at the sound of his name on my tongue. Then his lips curved into a smile, and he chuckled.

  “Nice try, sweetheart. But I don’t follow orders.”

  “But -”

  Smith gently covered my mouth with his hand, smothering my protest.

  “I’m not saying this as your Master. You have every right to tell me what to do. But that doesn’t mean I have to listen. And I won’t. As Clayton will happily tell you, I’m a pigheaded asshole.” His jaw firmed, and the amusement left his eyes. “I’m going to find the fucker who hurt you, Lydia. So I’ll only be leaving you when I’m not out hunting him. Is that clear?”

  His hand left my mouth, his questioning eyes demanding my affirmative answer. Anger swelled within me.

  “The only thing that’s clear to me is that you’re a goddamn idiot as well as a pigheaded asshole,” I hissed.

  There was a sharp edge to his pleased grin.

  “I don’t know where you picked up that kind of language, sweetheart, but it really doesn’t suit you.”

  My anger flared at his lighthearted reaction to my fearful demands. Couldn’t he understand I needed to keep him safe?

  “Listen to me, Sm-”

  My heated words melted into a groan when he brought his mouth down on mine, and something darker than anger flared deep within me. He took advantage of my parted lips, penetrating them with his tongue, moving it against mine in firm, dominant strokes. I shivered in his grip, instantly relaxing into his arms as my body eagerly ceded to his control. His low, approving growl reverberated through my mind and rumbled through my flesh, concentrating at the heated place between my legs.

  The release brought on by my submission to him was heady. His lips drew my grief and my fear from me and took them into himself, helping me shoulder their seemingly insurmountable weight.

  My hands fisted in his shirt, clinging to him more tightly. His fingers sank into my hair in response, holding me in place so I couldn’t escape him even if I wanted to.

  And I didn’t want to. I never wanted to.

  When he finally pulled away from me, I was gasping for breath, my head spinning from the high of his kiss. I was shocked to realize that his chest was rising and falling rapidly as he drew in ragged breaths of his own

  “God, I’ve missed you, Lydia,” he said, his voice rough with longing and regret.

  I touched my fingers to his brow, trying to smooth the creases that had appeared there. He was obviously still unsure about what had happened between us. But I wasn’t. I would help him to see that he had done nothing wrong.

  “I’ve missed you too, Smith,” I said softly.

  One corner of his lips quirked up in a lopsided smile, and his eyes glowed molten silver.

  “Do you have any idea how goddamn sweet my name sounds on your lips?”

  My breath caught in my throat at the intensity of his words. Before I could remember how to breathe again, he crushed his lips to mine, devouring the sweetness there.

  Suddenly, breathing didn’t matter anymore. The twisted nature of the beginning of our relationship didn’t matter. The fact that there was a sadistic man stalking me didn’t matter.

  Nothing mattered but the sensation of his tongue moving against mine, the comfort of his powerful arms holding me.

  Safe.

  Chapter 22

  The loss of Smith’s heat roused me instantly. His body had remained shaped around mine throughout the night, his presence the only thing keeping my sanity intact when I awoke from nightmares of Tucker’s lifeless eyes.

  The weak light of dawn filtered through the crack at the bottom of the door, the only source of illumination in the windowless room. Even though Smith was no more than a darker shadow in the indigo gloom, my eyes found him straightaway.

  He bent to silently retrieve his belt, tie, and shoes, the only articles of clothing he had removed before climbing into bed with me. I had craved the sweet sensation of his skin against mine, but he had refused.

  Master had demanded that I relent. I knew my protests were useless when he called upon that side of himself.

  It seemed I had more protests to voice this morning.

  “Where are you going?” I asked, my voice not in the least bit meek.

  Smith paused.

  “That bossy tone is going to take some getting used to,” he said, evidently amused. “But I don’t mind. I like a
challenge.”

  “This isn’t a game, Smith.”

  My hot words only elicited a laugh. “You sound like Clayton. Minus the expletives.”

  “Fine. Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

  I had never been one to cuss, but if that was what it took to get his attention, I would gladly curse up a storm.

  He just laughed again. “Nice try, little one, but I don’t listen to Clayton, either. Besides, I thought I told you that sort of language doesn’t suit you.”

  His voice had taken on a huskier edge, and he slowly, languidly approached me. I should have been thrilled with my small victory; my crass words had kept him from leaving me. But all I could think of was how badly I wanted him to touch me. I sat stock still where I had pushed myself up on my elbows, my breaths turning shallow as the predator slinked toward me.

  More soft light had filtered into the room with the rising sun, and all of it seemed to have been absorbed by his gleaming metallic eyes. Despite the fact that everything about his demeanor communicated an approaching threat, my body remained frozen, trapped in rapt fascination as I watched his graceful movements.

  His forefinger stroked a feather-light line down my vulnerable neck, pausing on my carotid artery. His teeth flashed white in a pleased, hard edged-grin as he enjoyed the feel of my racing pulse under his touch. I hardly breathed when his hand gently cupped my neck, his thumb resting across my throat in a silent threat. A shiver raced across my skin at the ultimate show of dominance, and my body compliantly eased back onto the pillows as he guided me down with only the barest pressure.

  His thumb brushed up and down over my artery as his lips softly caressed mine, reinforcing my utter helplessness in his grip. He caught my raw, animalistic whimper in his mouth, savoring it. His tongue demanded more of the sweet flavor of the sound of his victory over me, and he stroked into my mouth in teasing forays.

  When he had consumed his fill, he pulled back from me just enough so that his lips still teased across mine as he spoke.

  “I’m going to work for the day. You’re going to stay here and mind Clayton like a good girl.”

  His fingers squeezed ever so slightly around my neck as he nipped at my lower lip, reinforcing his order.