She wiped her eyes, trying to compose herself before having to face either of them again. A facial tissue dangled in front of her field of vision. She looked up to find Master Damián holding the tissue out to her. For someone who looked like a sadist, he sure had a gentle side to him. Somehow gentle sadist just didn’t go together.
She accepted the tissue and dabbed at her eyes. Good thing she hadn’t worn full stage makeup. She’d look like a raccoon right now. Just as she had when she’d cried for Adam in the Chicago bus station all those years ago.
“Sorry. I’m just really tired. I only arrived from New York early this morning.”
“Well, the club won’t be open again until Friday night. Your first set will be at seven o’clock. Get some rest between now and then.”
“You mean, he wants to hire me?”
“I am hiring you, Karla. But Master Adam asked me to send you to his office to fill out the paperwork so we can get you on the payroll PDQ.”
Master Adam. The title caused warmth to spread into her stomach, then lower. She realized she didn’t really know much about Adam at all. How had he lived this separate life and not even intimated at such in his letters?
Because he still thinks you’re a kid.
Master Damián extended a hand and helped her to her feet. His grip was firm, warm. When she swayed, he steadied her by holding her elbows with both hands.
She wished Adam’s hands were holding her. Another tear ran down her cheek. He obviously wanted to have nothing to do with her. How could she stay here?
How could she leave?
“Could you point me in the right direction?”
“Better yet, I’ll take you.”
“Is it okay if I leave my bags in the entryway for now?”
“Sure. They’ll be safe there. I’ll be locking up after I take you to Master Adam’s office.”
As they started toward the hallway where Adam had disappeared, Master Damián discussed what was expected of her as far as a new wardrobe.
Oh, dear. “I’m sorry, but I…I don’t have any money for new clothes yet. Would it be okay if I wore my dresses from the Soho club until I get a couple paychecks under my belt?”
“Talk to Master Adam. He’ll probably advance you some money for appropriate clothing. Where are you staying?”
She bit her lower lip. “I’m going to find a motel when I leave here.”
“I think we can do better than that.”
Karla wasn’t sure what he meant, but by then they’d arrived at Adam’s office. She preceded Damián into the office and saw Adam seated at a large walnut desk, staring intently at some paperwork before him. He dominated the room, which was decorated in dark wood and black leather. When she hesitated, Master Damián took her elbow and led her to one of the leather chairs in front of the desk. But she chose to remain standing. Looking down at Adam gave her a sense of power she needed to feel right now. She wouldn’t stay if he didn’t want her here.
“Sir, Karla’s just gotten to town and doesn’t have a place to stay. She’ll need one of the rooms upstairs.”
Sir. Had Master Damián served with Adam in the Marines? He certainly had the body and stature of a Marine. Then Karla noticed Adam’s hand had tightened on the pen he held.
Adam doesn’t want you here.
She blinked rapidly and swallowed past the lump in her throat. Don’t let him see you cry. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and rose to her full height. She still only reached to Master Damián’s chin. The man intimidated the hell out of her, but she needed to stand up for herself and stop being led around by him as if she were a puppy.
“That won’t be necessary. I’m staying at a motel.”
Adam looked up at her, his piercing green eyes short-circuiting her bravado. “Nonsense. You’ll stay here.” His gaze sent a thrill down her spine at the same time as it caused her heart to come to a halt. She’d yearned to see Adam again for so long. Now that she was here, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to run to his arms, or run out the door.
To Damián, he said, “Take her things to the guest room on the east end of the house.”
Master Damián chuckled. She wondered what was so funny, but couldn’t ask. What had she gotten herself into? Live here with Adam? That was just wrong on so many levels. She just wanted to crawl back to New York and forget about this whole hare-brained idea. When Master Damián left, she remained standing as Adam stared up at her as if he didn’t have a clue how to deal with her.
“I was worried about you.” His voice came out in a husky whisper that washed over her as if he’d gently stroked a finger down her bare arm.
Of all the things she thought she’d hear him say after the scene in the bar room, that was the last she expected. Karla blinked away more tears, her bravado evaporating quickly. She’d expected him to continue to be all businesslike and distant, not so…caring.
Her tearfulness reminded her of the time she’d wrecked the family car when she was eighteen. She’d been fine until her dad had asked if she were okay.
“Are you okay?” Adam asked, concern in his voice.
The same question. Now all the emotions she’d tried to bury the last two months resurfaced. She began shaking, unable to form a coherent response. She steadied herself with a hand against the back of the chair. Tears blurred her vision. Then she felt Adam’s strong arms surrounding her, holding her up.
Safe. Adam.
She took in a ragged gasp of air, then a wrenching sob poured from deep inside her chest.
“Shhhh. It’s going to be okay.” He turned her around and pressed her against his rock-hard chest and his hands stroked her hair. She felt his heart beating against her cheek as she wrapped her arms around his back, holding on as if he were a lifeline. She wept grief-stricken tears mixed with tears of joy to be holding Adam once again.
She’d tried for two months to remain strong for her parents’ sakes at the funeral and to make sure everything was beautiful for Ian’s funeral. Then she’d tried to continue to tamp down her emotions and grief so she could return to New York and function again.
Fail.
“What’s happened, Karla?
She shook her head, not wanting to put into words what she still didn’t want to acknowledge. The tears she couldn’t dam up any longer spilled onto his chest. Oh, no! She pulled away and saw the blackened spots on his white shirt.
She reached out to touch the stains as more tears spilled. “I’m sorry, Adam.”
He cupped her cheek in his hands and tilted her head back until she saw his face swimming before her eyes. “It’s just a f…god-damned shirt. Karla. Tell me what’s wrong. Come. Sit with me.”
He led her over to a black leather loveseat she hadn’t noticed before. He sat down and, rather than have her sit beside him, pulled her onto his lap. She’d fantasized about being held by him like this, but he was her new boss, wasn’t he? Totally inappropriate.
Adam. Her friend. He knew everything about her. Over the years, in her letters, she’d shared more with him than she had with Ian, her parents, or her girlfriends.
He’d saved her once. She so needed saving again. But she was too broken this time for anyone to save her.
* * *
Adam hadn’t felt this helpless since he’d watched Joni dying, except maybe for Fallujah and its aftermath. Something tragic had happened to Karla. He needed to know what, so he could make it better. Nothing rotted his gut more than feeling so fucking helpless.
“Are your parents all right?”
She nodded, but kept her gaze on her lap. Thank God. Jenny and Carl had taken him in that Thanksgiving morning and treated him like, well, a brother. He’d feared perhaps something had happened to one of them.
Then, was it Ian? No, her brother’s deployment had ended a while back. Adam knew he’d made it home safely from Iraq. But they were redeploying units so fast these days. Had he gotten hurt?
“Ian?”
She squeezed her eyes shut and wrappe
d her arms over her stomach, holding herself as she tried to curl over into a ball as if to contain the pain. She nodded her head, and a mournful sob escaped her lips.
Oh, God no. Not her brother.
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest. He held her as she sobbed. She adored her older brother more than anyone in the world. He’d seen that in her letters as she’d bragged about his commendations and activities.
“Tell me what happened.”
He didn’t want to hear the words, but knew she needed to speak them, just as talking about his nightmares had helped Damián. Again, she shook her head. The scent of her citrus-y shampoo drifted to his nose. Adam brought his hand up and held her head closer to his chest. He stroked her face. Her hair. Her face. Her skin. So soft. She felt so right in his arms—and that was so fucking wrong.
God, she was so young.
So hurting. He’d never been able to resist reaching out to help a lost soul.
“Karla, tell me what’s happened to Ian.”
He knew the sooner she got the story out, the sooner she’d be able to begin to function again. To heal. Whatever had happened, she’d already kept it bottled up way too long. She gasped for air, trying to control her sobs.
“Take a deep, slow breath, Karla.” She did as he told her. At least he knew she could hear him. She hiccoughed and he felt his gut clench—and parts south tighten. “Again.” He needed to keep his mind off how nice it felt having her curled up in his lap. If she didn’t spill the story soon, he would embarrass himself—and probably scare the hell out of her.
“Tell me. Now, Karla.” He didn’t mean to sound so gruff, but it was all he could do to maintain control over his wayward dick.
As if a dam had burst, the words spilled out in a jumble, with sobs obliterating most of the details in the story. But he managed to get the gist of it.
Motorcycle. Rain. Semi.
Ian’s dead.
Dead.
“Oh, God, no, Karla.” Adam held her tighter, resting his chin on the top of her head, trying to envelop her in warmth and safety. “I’m so sorry.” He ached for Karla and her parents. When tears burned his own eyes, he let them flow, knowing she couldn’t see them. He cried for Ian, who hadn’t been given a chance to live. He cried for Jenny and Carl, who had to be caught up in a living hell right now. He even cried for Joni, who he hadn’t been able to cry for since that Thanksgiving morning in 2002 at Lake Michigan.
But mostly he cried for Karla. She didn’t deserve this. Her world was supposed to be happy. Innocent. Full of hope. He wished he hadn’t ignored his instincts. He knew something was wrong and should have gotten in touch with her sooner.
He didn’t know how long she continued to sob, then her body suddenly went limp, sinking against him. Her weight felt good against him. She’d surrendered the last of her defenses. Thank God she’d come to him. Someone else might take advantage of her vulnerability.
While he and Karla had spent only a couple of days together face to face, they’d forged a deeper connection that spanned nearly a decade. She’d pulled him back from the brink when he’d thought there was nothing left for him in this world. Her letters over the years were honest, as if she were sitting right there at his feet telling him about her day.
No, don’t think about her sitting gracefully at your feet.
Her letters had told of her life, her dreams, her world. He knew her better than he’d known any woman other than Joni.
Something or someone had brought them together again. He’d taken care of Karla once before. He’d take care of her this time, too. And he’d refuse to give in to the baser thoughts running rampant through his mind since he’d watched her performing on the club’s stage a little while ago.
When her weight relaxed against him even more, he knew she’d fallen into a deep sleep. He held her a bit longer, stroking her arm, shushing her when her body convulsed with a shudder. Then he stood and carried her out the door into the hallway. They passed the theme rooms. Thank God she slept, although he knew she’d find them eventually, if she’d be working here.
Christ.
Damián came out of the medical theme room. He raised an eyebrow at seeing her curled up in his arms. No, this isn’t that kind of aftercare.
The man he thought of as his son grinned and looked up at him, a question in his eyes. Adam wasn’t ready to explain his relationship to Karla. He told himself it was because he didn’t want to wake her by speaking. In truth, though, he didn’t know how to explain her to Damián. He knew what their relationship had been before today. But how could he explain his feelings now without sounding like a fucked-up pervert?
“Go back upstairs and move her things to your old room.” He kept that one made up, in case Damián ever needed it. His son’s grin widened. He thought he knew the reason for moving her so close to Adam’s own bedroom, when Adam had intended originally for her to be as far away from him as possible.
“I need to keep an eye on her.”
“Sure. Let me know if I can help…Dad.”
Why had Damián chosen now, of all times, to remind him he was so fucking old? Hell, his surrogate son was only a couple years older than Karla. Maybe he should encourage them to get together. They both needed someone right now.
The thought of Karla being with Damián or any other man at the club rotted his gut, though. He carried her up the stairs. As he walked into the room where Damián had fought his demons all those years ago, he hoped Karla’s struggles would be much less. But in here, he’d be able to keep a close eye on her, just until she was ready to venture out and find a place to stay on her own.
* * *
Adam sat in the corner of her room and watched Karla sleep. He hadn’t wanted to scare her by removing her clothing, but had taken off her slippers and pulled a blanket over her. The thick black curls fanning out over the blue pillowcase sent his thoughts careening down dangerous paths yet again.
Demons flitted across her face a few times, but whenever he’d stand to go to her to fight them off, she’d become peaceful again and fall back into a deeper, more restful sleep. She couldn’t possibly be aware he was here, could she? He’d never admit he’d watched over her like this either. She’d think he was some kind of perv. But he was worried about her and she might not be as vocal as Damián had been when he’d battled his demons in that bed. Hopefully, she’d remain sleeping when he left her here alone.
Her black eyelashes flickered. Adam tensed. She moaned in her sleep and he was ready to go to her, to hold her until the nightmare ended. Then she sighed and returned once more to a deeper sleep.
Obviously, she hadn’t slept for a very, very long time. When had Ian been killed? Her last letter was two months ago and didn’t hint that anything was out of the ordinary. He probably should call Jenny and Carl and offer his condolences. Let them know Karla was with him. Safe.
Safe? Yeah, right. “Oh, don’t worry, Carl. Your daughter’s fine. She’s performing at my sex club—oh, musical performances only. Nothing to worry yourself about. She’s fine.”
Just fine.
Thoughts of her performing in other ways at the club flicked over his mind. Shit. No way would she be engaging in any activities other than singing as long as he had anything to say about it. He doubted she’d even be interested in BDSM. And, if she were, she’d probably lean more toward the Domme side, given the way she’d managed to order him in the head at the bus station.
He smiled. She seemed pretty taken with her ability to bring him to his knees, as he recalled. Well, Adam didn’t bottom for anyone. If he remembered her in that role, perhaps he’d be able to put an end to his carnal thoughts about her.
Fuck. How could he be thinking horny thoughts about the Paxtons’ daughter in the first place? God, Carl and Jenny had taken him in, patched him up, given him a place to rest. Hell, they’d even given him a plane ticket back to Pendleton.
He knew he’d have a battle on his hands to keep from thinking about havin
g rough, kinky sex with their innocent daughter.
Fucking A.
Total clusterfucking-A.
Afterword
The End? Not by a long shot!
Watch for these upcoming titles in the Rescue Me series by Kallypso Masters:
Nobody’s Angel—Master Marc’s story, September 2011
Nobody’s Hero—Master Adam and Karla’s story, December 2011
Nobody’s Perfect—Master Damián and Savannah (Savi)’s story, February 2012
Kally would love to have you
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Masters at Arms Page 18