Re/Paired

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Re/Paired Page 24

by Michele Zurlo


  Katrina felt a little sorry for her. “How old are they?”

  Savannah’s expression softened. Her entire demeanor changed, and cracks of vulnerability showed for the first time. “Angelina is three, and Corey is eleven months. They’re good kids. They should have a good home. Lord knows I never did anything much for them.” She shook her head, a wealth of regret in the action. “About ten years ago? No. Maybe eight or nine, whenever Keith got sober, he came around and told us that if we didn’t all stop drinking, he wouldn’t have no more to do with us. I been sober for three months now. It sucks, but I guess I woulda done it sooner if I’d known I’d lose my kids.”

  It took Katrina a minute to digest all that. She’d known Keith for eleven years, and she’d never once seen him take a drink. True, he’d been in the military then, and she’d only seen him when he was home on leave, but he’d never seemed intoxicated.

  She couldn’t go into any of that now. Though she wasn’t sure what her next steps should be, she regarded Savannah steadily. “I’m not making any promises.” Keith hated his sister, and he wasn’t big on kids. He tolerated her nephews pretty well, but like her, he was relieved to leave them with their parents.

  Savannah let loose that husky chuckle again. “You lawyer types never do. Look, don’t ask Keith to take them. He don’t owe me. But you seem like a decent person. Can’t you just make sure they end up with a good family? That’s all I want.”

  Katrina could do that for the sake of two innocent kids. “I’ll do what I can. Thank you for meeting with me.”

  As she drove back to Detroit, she wrestled with the paths unfolding before her. If she told Keith about the situation, he would get mad at her for sticking her nose into his business. That was a given. She didn’t think he would want to punish her for it, and for that she was a little regretful. She’d rather face a spanking than his displeasure.

  Was this something he really wanted to know about? His mother had tried to talk to him, and she was obviously trying to manipulate Katrina. Katrina didn’t know how much Keith’s mother had been able to say before Keith cut her off. He wouldn’t do anything for his sister’s sake. This was the woman who had made his childhood a living hell. He had been clear that he wanted nothing to do with those people.

  Even so, she would follow through on her promise and ensure those kids ended up in a good home. Now that she had their names, it would be easier to track down their caseworker.

  And she needed more time to think about the other thing his sister had revealed. Why hadn’t anyone ever told her that Keith was an alcoholic? Surely Malcolm knew. Did her parents? Though she could understand why Mal would keep this to himself, why had Keith never said a word? Was he ashamed, or did he want to forget he’d ever been ruled by addiction?

  She couldn’t ask him about it without revealing how she’d come by the information. She simply didn’t possess the guile to mislead him like that, and moreover, she didn’t want to.

  By the time she finished, most of her afternoon was gone, and she’d convinced herself to take the weekend to think about what she’d learned. She headed for home. It was his secret to tell her. She didn’t know how long she could wait, though. His lack of confidence in her stung more than any whip.

  * * * *

  Saturday afternoon, she spurned Keith’s efforts to drive her to Darcy’s house. Not only was it out of his way, having him do so would strand her there unnecessarily. If this operation went like most of them, she might not see Keith for a few days. While he intended to see her tomorrow, criminals weren’t always that obliging. They committed their crimes and revealed evidence on their timetables, not the FBI’s.

  Darcy greeted her at the door, wearing a sky-blue sundress, a rosy glow, and a huge smile. “I have some great news.”

  Katrina entered the house and set her overnight bag in the living room. “Don’t tell me Malcolm put security cameras all over the place here too.”

  Darcy glanced around the large, open foyer. Then she went outside and surveyed the obvious places—anything with a view of the front door or driveway. “Doesn’t look like it. I guess what happens here stays here.” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively. “No, this is better news. I’m over Chinese food. I’ve moved on to key lime pie and barbecued anything. I still have to chase it with antacid, but it’s worth it. Malcolm slow-roasted an entire brisket. And your mom sent over key lime pie ice cream. It has chunks of lime-soaked piecrust in it.”

  With a laugh, Katrina followed Darcy to the kitchen. “She’s just happy to have more grandkids on the way. I don’t remember her doting on us that much. It was always, ‘Clean your room,’ and ‘Take it outside.’ She never tells my nephews to be quiet. I think she was born to be a grandmother.”

  The moment she entered the kitchen, the smell of barbecued meat hit her hard, reminding her that Keith had kept her busy well past lunchtime. Her mouth watered.

  Darcy pulled a roasting pan from her double oven. “Some people are. My parents greeted the news by putting their house up for sale and buying a condo in Florida. They like Malcolm, mostly because he cleared my name and they don’t know he’s a Dom.”

  “You’re not going to tell them?” This surprised Katrina. Darcy’s first fiancé had been her Dom, and that information was common knowledge.

  Darcy shrugged. “They never understood my relationship with Scott. I figure this is a fresh start, so I’m going to just not ever mention it. That way they’ll always like Malcolm, and I won’t have to beat my head against the wall trying to explain why their daughter needs to be whipped and spanked.”

  The smell stole Katrina’s attention. She heard what Darcy said, and she understood why Darcy wouldn’t want to deal with that mess again, but she could only think about the food. Her brother was a decent cook.

  “Not to change the subject, but do we have to wait for Layla and Amy before we eat that?”

  Darcy laughed. “Nope. Baby is hungry, so that means dinner is served.” She set it on the counter and handed Katrina a plate. “I say we dive in and forget manners.”

  The meat was so succulent it fell off the bone. Katrina stabbed chunks with her fork to load up her plate.

  “I have potatoes baking in the lower oven. They should be ready by the time we’re on seconds or thirds.” Darcy grinned. “I’ve always had a healthy appetite, but I’ve seen Mal’s jaw drop several times at the amount of food I’ve been eating. I’m just so hungry. I’m warning you now not to eat every time I do. I don’t want to be the reason your pants no longer fit.”

  Katrina had always been on the slender side. She’d never worried about gaining weight. In her teen years, she used to pray for weight gain just so she’d develop curvy hips and breasts. But it had never happened. Her genes dictated a flat chest.

  “I’ll be okay. I skipped lunch, so I’m starving.” She settled into a place at the kitchen table and dived into the pile of meat. After she’d taken the edge off her hunger, she sat back in her chair and slowed down her intake rate. “So besides painting our toenails and watching chick flicks, what are we doing tonight?”

  Darcy picked a string of meat from her plate and licked it off her finger. “I want to know how you and Keith got together. He’s so hot, and a bit of a badass if you like that kind of thing, which you apparently do. Malcolm is of the firm belief that Keith will never be serious about a woman, and it makes him sad to think his best friend in the whole world will never find love and happiness.”

  Keith hadn’t mentioned loving her. He was happy, she knew, and he did love her, but she wasn’t certain he’d begun to love her as a woman yet. It wasn’t an issue she wanted to push. “You don’t consider Malcolm a badass?” Katrina’s brother might be a few inches shorter than Keith, but he bulged with muscle every bit as much as his best friend.

  Darcy cocked her head to one side. “Not really. He’s kind of a geek, which I find endearing and sexy as hell. Keith seems so ruthless with everything, including protecting the people he loves. I’m ve
ry glad he never had occasion to interrogate me. That could have gotten bloody.”

  Having read through the file on Darcy’s case, Katrina was familiar enough with the details to know that Darcy had been questioned about Scott’s disappearance more than sixteen times in six months. Malcolm had confided to her that Darcy hated cops, and Katrina had witnessed Darcy’s unease around Malcolm’s friends from the bureau.

  She’d also watched video of Keith tearing down a suspect. He could be very intimidating when he wanted, but she couldn’t imagine Darcy taking shit from anybody. No, it probably wouldn’t have been a fun experience for either of them. “Well, it’s a good thing that case is closed with regard to you.”

  Darcy frowned. “The trial is next month. I’m scheduled to testify.”

  “I meant that they charged Snyder and Halter.” Discussing this wasn’t ethical. Katrina smiled and tried to change the subject. “So if I tell you how Keith and I got together, are you going to tell Malcolm? Because there are things a brother should not know about his sister.”

  Darcy’s mouth tipped up at the corners. She nodded, acknowledging that they couldn’t discuss the case. Katrina was involved. Though she wasn’t chairing it, she was on the team responsible for designing the plan of attack.

  Darcy dragged her finger through the leftover sauce. “Your brother makes the best barbecue. It could possibly be a reason I'm marrying him. That, and he knocked me up. Another good reason is that he recognizes boundaries. Keeping the fact that you’re dating from him violates my moral code concerning what I need to share with my Master, but the details of how you got together or any other things that fall under the heading of ‘girl talk’ are strictly confidential.”

  “I don’t want to get you into trouble.” Katrina finished her brisket and pushed the plate away.

  Darcy lifted her brows, her blue eyes wide with shock. “There is a difference between dominating and controlling. Malcolm is dominant, yes, but he’s not controlling. Men control women—our associations, friendships, actions, conversation—when they don’t trust them. At least that’s my interpretation. I could never be with a man who was controlling. I’m too independent and opinionated.”

  All her life, Katrina had relied on others. Her opinions had never been important to her, not when faced with a strong opinion from somebody she loved. Part of what she liked about being submissive was that she didn’t have to be so independent. It was a relief to lay her worries and fears at Keith’s feet.

  Then she remembered that she was keeping information about his niece and nephew from him. Surely that fell under this discretionary heading that meant it was okay to keep it to herself until she was sure about what she wanted to share.

  Katrina chewed her lip. She knew her brother better than to think he would limit the kinds of conversations Darcy could have. “Sorry. I just… Keith said if Malcolm found out you knew about us and didn’t tell him that you could get into trouble.”

  “I wish.” Darcy’s expression softened for a moment. Then she refocused on Katrina. “Trina, anybody in a relationship would feel betrayed if their significant other kept important information from them. You’re his sister, and Keith is his closest friend. You’re both very important to him.”

  Katrina felt bad about her cowardice. Darcy said the same thing Keith had, but she phrased it in a much more sympathetic light. She saw how keeping this from Malcolm wouldn’t preserve his friendship with Keith. It might even damage the trust between them, and that possibility hit Katrina hard.

  And Darcy wasn’t finished. “He would be mad at me because I hurt him. This upsets me because I hate the idea of him being hurt, especially by me. I’d rather face a year of not being flogged than hurt him. That’s why you have a deadline.”

  Katrina didn’t want to cause problems between Darcy and Malcolm. She nodded her understanding. “I’ll tell him. He’s going to flip out.”

  Darcy squeezed Katrina’s wrist. “I’ll be there if you want. I’m pretty good at calming him down and getting him to listen.”

  “Hello!” A voice called from the front hall. Katrina didn’t recognize it, so she figured Darcy’s sister had arrived. She’d interrupted an emotional exchange, and Katrina had to tamp down annoyance at the intrusion. Darcy didn’t release Katrina’s wrist.

  “In the kitchen!” Darcy grinned in the direction of the door to the hall. She lowered her volume to say one last thing to Katrina. “We’ll talk about this later. I know you won’t want this getting out just yet. Our secret for now.”

  Amy was Darcy’s older sister, the kind who was opinionated and protective of her little sister. Katrina had met Amy only once before. She’d been solicitous and polite. Malcolm spoke highly of her, and that was enough for Katrina.

  Her hair framed her face in a way that made her large blue eyes stand out. Katrina knew Amy was thirty-two and a party planner, but that was about all. Amy set a bottle of wine on the table and gave Darcy a huge hug.

  Behind Amy, Layla frowned at Katrina and shook her finger. “Hey, you never called me back.”

  “Called you back?” Katrina had been unaware that Layla had called. Her week had centered around Keith and work and that other issue, and nothing else had fit into her head. She felt guilty about that. Once upon a time, Layla had been her closest friend in the world. Now that she thought about it, she realized that she and Layla had been drifting apart for years, since about the time Layla had dated a Dom most of the family had disliked. With a pang, Katrina recognized how much she missed her cousin. “When did you call?”

  “I didn’t. But you knew I wanted you to dish on that whole thing with Keith’s mom.” Layla hugged Darcy, grabbed a plate, and helped herself to some of the cooling brisket. “Damn, this stuff smells good. I need a man who can cook.”

  Amy pulled the cookie sheet full of foil-wrapped baked potatoes from the oven. “I just need a man. At this point, I don’t care if he cooks or not. I don’t even want him in the kitchen.”

  Darcy sat down in the chair next to Katrina. “Just the bedroom, then? You know, there are lots of places in a kitchen to tie somebody up, Amy.”

  Wrinkling her nose, Amy opened the foil on a potato. “I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

  Layla snagged a potato and sat down across from Darcy. “You should try one of those online dating sites. I can see it now: ‘Seeking single male for bondage and sex. No cooking required.’ You’ll get lots of calls.”

  “Yeah. No, thanks. My luck I would end up with some biker freak.” Amy set down her plate next to Layla, then went to the refrigerator to grab fixings. She added butter, sour cream, and shredded cheddar to the mix. The sights and aromas made Katrina hungry again, so she availed herself of the food.

  “Ohh, wine. Yum.” Layla got three glasses from the cupboard. “Just what I need.” She poured for Katrina and Amy without asking if they wanted any. Katrina didn’t mind. She sipped the wine, ate her potato, and let herself get caught up in the conversation and company.

  Two hours later, the bottle was empty, as was another one that Amy had pilfered from Darcy’s cupboard, noting that Darcy wouldn’t be drinking it anytime soon. The topic turned to flogging.

  “I just don’t get it,” Amy said, her brow furrowing severely. “Why would you want to let somebody hit you with one of those things? How is that a turn-on?”

  Darcy smiled serenely, but she didn’t say a word.

  Layla rolled her eyes, evidence she’d been through this with Amy before. “It feels good. Really good. You should try it.”

  “It doesn’t always hurt.” Katrina added her caveat quietly, thinking of the soft kiss of that deerskin flogger. It could have hurt if he’d used more force in his delivery, but Keith had chosen to initiate her gently. “A lighter hit can feel like a massage.”

  Layla lifted a brow at Katrina. “Sounds like somebody popped her S and M cherry. Congratulations, honey. Who’s the lucky guy?”

  Katrina didn’t want to answer that. Thankfully Darcy intervene
d. “You know, Amy, it’s mostly all about the scene and the skill of the Dom. I mean, sure, I do like to be flogged or whipped or whatever just because I enjoy the pain, but a lot of people who don’t particularly enjoy it still like it as part of a scene.”

  From Amy’s expression, it was clear her sister’s explanation puzzled her. “I just don’t understand where you stick it into a romantic night. Movie, dinner, conversation, making out, beat me, have sex?”

  Layla burst into laughter, pressing her hand to her chest as she rocked back. “Damn, girl. You don’t have to have sex.”

  “I do,” Darcy said. She sipped her herbal tea. “It’s a punishment if I don’t.”

  With her amusement dying down, Layla shook her head at Darcy. “You’ve only been flogged by people you want to have sex with. If I flogged you, you’d feel differently. Sometimes it’s nice to have a relaxing session, then curl up on the sofa and watch a movie that doesn’t make you think too hard.” She sounded wistful.

  With her gaze fixed on her teacup, Darcy appeared to consider Layla’s assertion. It made Katrina think as well. Last weekend Keith had flogged her as a form of relaxation. Inherent in that was an underlying trust that Katrina didn’t think she could muster with another person. She gathered Darcy felt the same way.

  Then Darcy surprised her. “Okay. I’m willing to try it.” Then she turned to Amy. “You should try it too. I know how to be gentle. Scott didn’t like the stinging sensations, so I learned to be good with a light thud. But I might be out of practice. Malcolm won’t even consider switching, not that I want to. I like things how they are.”

  “I’m not out of practice.” Layla finished off her wine. “Though I think we should wait an hour for this light buzz to wear off. And you need to get permission from Malcolm first. I’m not touching you without his consent.”

  “Of course.” Darcy already had her cell on the table. She tapped out a text message.

  Katrina felt left out, though she didn’t want to be flogged by anyone who wasn’t Keith. However, she recognized an opportunity when it stared her in the face. “I’d like to learn how to use the flogger.”

 

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