Love Under Two Loners [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Cara Covington

  Iris gasped. Dr. Broderick had been the head of the English department at the Claymore College, and he had been Rich’s predecessor.

  “We were able to get the state police to the school fairly quickly,” Estevez said.

  “We had a patrolman there within fifteen minutes,” Parrish said. “The security guard on duty confirmed that Dr. Benedict left the school in the company of a man he recognized, a man named Victor Swift. Mr. Swift is the son of the late Bernard Swift, an industrialist who’d been a close friend to the college’s founder, Edwina Claymore.”

  “What about the school’s dean?” Donny asked. “Was she able to provide any information?”

  “The security guard reported that she spoke with both men and then went back to her office. She walked past him again only a few minutes later and also left the college just before our patrolmen arrived. The guard didn’t overhear what was said between the three of them, nor could he say with any degree of certainly that she’d gone in the same direction. The only two things he could add was that the woman rarely left school in the middle of the day and she looked extremely upset. We have a BOLO out on Edith Claymore now.”

  “I don’t understand,” Iris said. “What would this Swift want with Rich? Is this an abduction for ransom?”

  Estevez looked at both Adam and Sergeant Parrish then turned to face them. “We discovered that a young woman who was registered as a student at the school, and a scholarship recipient, had, in fact, been kidnapped to be sold into a sex slave ring.”

  Iris’s eyes went wide. “Are you talking about Marcia Crane?” She thought Estevez looked startled that Iris knew the woman’s name. “Rich came home his first day and had been upset that the young woman had apparently quit school, out of the blue. He…he felt a responsibility for her.” It occurred to her that, perhaps, if Estevez wasn’t really a Dom, that statement might strike him as odd.

  “I don’t understand,” Parrish said. “I thought he hadn’t met the woman yet. He felt responsible?”

  “Doesn’t matter if he’d met her or not,” Donny said. “She was listed as one of his students, which made her his responsibility, in a way.” Then he looked over at Adam. “That’s how Kendalls do things.”

  Adam nodded. “It is.”

  “So what’s the plan?” Donny asked.

  Parrish was the one to answer him. “We’ve a man in place with the house in sight, as I mentioned, but he’s some distance away. There’s no close cover, so sneaking up on them is out of the question.”

  Donny scowled, and Iris felt her heart sink. “Don’t tell me you have to wait until dark?”

  “Unless something changes, yes, we have to wait until dark.”

  Donny met her gaze, and her heart hurt for the pain she saw there. It was a pain she felt, too. It would be hours until it was dark enough for Rich to be rescued. Who knew what could happen in that time?

  “Sarge!” One of the patrolmen came running over. “Freeman says a dark blue Caddy just careened up to the house and a woman got out. He said it’s the woman from the school—Edith Claymore—and she’s armed.”

  “Fuck the plan,” Estevez said.

  “No shit.” Parrish was already running. “We go now! Tell Freeman to move it!”

  * * * *

  So much for my grand scheme. Rich had no sooner pulled the car to a stop outside this ramshackle house, located not more than a half-hour’s drive from the college, when Victor had knocked him on the side of the head with the butt of his gun.

  He awoke to find himself on the floor against a wall and handcuffed by his left hand to some sort of pipe that stuck out of the floor.

  Great plan and personal dignity shot to hell in one fell swoop. He took a moment to look around at his surroundings. He recalled that, from the outside, the old house had looked pitiful. It didn’t look much better inside.

  A threadbare sofa was positioned against the wall on his right, and there was another chair, an old armchair, that sat at a tilt from a broken leg on his left. The wood floors looked as if they’d not been cleaned in a very long time, but there was no layer of dust, as one might expect to find in a house closed up and unused. It didn’t smell overly musty, either.

  There were two doors that he could see—one closed, the other open. There was also a hall, leading, likely, to the back of the house. Clearly deserted, he wondered who the place belonged to and what else—considering the nature of the “community service” required by that so-called scholarship—the place had been used for.

  There were only two good things about his current circumstances. The first was that it was only his left hand that was cuffed. He was right-handed. The second was that his cell phone was in his pocket—his right pants pocket.

  Well, there was a third, as well, and that was that Victor, so-far-with-no-known-last-name, was nowhere in sight at the moment.

  He took a moment to examine the cuff that held him fast. He was somewhat familiar with the device, but unfortunately they weren’t the kind he’d used before—the kind with an emergency release. It looked as if a key would be needed to free him.

  If I had a lock pick, I might be able to free myself. He’d had a friend in college who’d been expert at the use of lock picks and had shared his knowledge. It had been a lot of years since he’d practiced that skill, but he might be able to manage the job—if only for the right tool to do so.

  Rich maneuvered himself into as comfortable a position as he could manage, sitting with his back against the wall and his legs out in front of him. From his current position, Rich could see the entire room. Since his abductor wasn’t in sight, he reached into his pocket. By touch alone, he was able to check volume on his cell phone. It was still on vibrate, a good thing. If someone called, or texted, Victor wouldn’t know, but Rich should be able to feel the vibration. His hand was still in his pocket when the bastard came back into the room.

  “Playing with your cell phone? You’re probably wondering why I didn’t take it away from you.” Victor treated him to a taunting smile. “We’re in a dead zone here, an expression that under the circumstances I find highly appropriate and amusing.”

  Rich felt a vibration. Since it only buzzed him once, he knew someone had just sent him a text message. He kept his face blank as he pulled the phone out of his pocket and touched the screen, as if he was checking out Victor’s claim.

  We know where you are. We’re coming. R.E.

  “You’re right. Well, there goes my hope for rescue.” Rich managed a single letter, “K,” and sent the response. Then he sighed and put the device back into his pocket. He focused on his captor. “Nice place you have here, Victor.”

  Victor snorted. “It’s a property acquired by my father, during the downturn a few years back. The couple who owned it and the land it sits on were sliding toward foreclosure. Dear old dad bailed them out, of course, paying far too much for the place.”

  “I know that you’ve been fronting scholarships in return for sexually exploiting women. What I don’t understand is why you’d do that. You look to be a man of means.”

  “Well, I was a man of means. But my father damn near bankrupted the family, supporting that damn school. I’m pretty certain he had a thing for Mrs. Claymore, the founder of the college. After he died—about a week after that old harridan died, and how pathetic is that?—and I discovered the degree to which he’d bankrolled the place, I was livid. I was supposed to take over a thriving family corporation, and instead, I discovered dwindling net worth. I needed a way to infuse cash into the family coffers.” He shrugged. “Edwina’s daughter is an even worse money-manager than her mother was. So I suggested a partnership. She would take in a few students each year on “scholarship” and they would provide “community service” in exchange. She thinks she’s getting half the money from the sex trade, but she’s actually getting only about a third.” He smirked. Then he met Rich’s gaze.

  “Your predecessor found out, of course. He threatened me, told me he was going to report m
e to the police. I couldn’t let that happen. Not just when I found an entirely new, and very lucrative, angle to work.”

  “Selling the women outright. You wouldn’t be able to do that too many times before sending up red flags. How were you going to explain so many women, all on ‘scholarship,’ going missing?”

  “I don’t need to sell a lot of them. I just need three more girls. I have a buyer who’ll give me top dollar for them all. It’ll be enough money that I can walk away. Not just from the school and the business, but this whole fucking country. So you see, I can’t let you live.”

  “So I’m going to have an accident like Dr. Broderick?”

  Victor’s smile looked particularly predatory. “You’ll have a very high blood alcohol content. No one will doubt it. After all, you’re a Yankee.”

  Rich didn’t know what being from the north had to do with anything, but he didn’t have time to think about it.

  The sound of a car’s motor and the screech of brakes alerted them they were no longer alone. Victor pulled out his gun and took two steps toward the door.

  A door that was pushed wide open before he could reach it.

  “What the hell! What are you doing here, bitch? How did you—”

  Edith Claymore stepped into the house. She didn’t even appear to notice Rich. “I followed you one night, months ago, when you picked up one of the girls.” She took a step closer. “I told myself it didn’t matter, that the girls all seemed to enjoy spreading their legs, so why shouldn’t they?” She took one more step, and Rich noticed something. Her right hand wasn’t in sight. It was behind her back.

  “You don’t need to play the outraged matron,” Victor said. “You were happy enough to take the money made from those nighttime trysts.”

  “Yes, I was. But I won’t be a party to murder. You murdered Patrick, and now you plan to murder again. I won’t let you do that.”

  “You can’t stop me.” Victor’s eyes widened when Edith whipped her arm from behind her back. He’d lowered his gun as he’d faced the woman he believed posed no threat to him—and that proved to be a fatal mistake.

  Sirens wailed as the two guns fired, one on top of the other. Rich flinched and closed his eyes, a natural reaction as the blasts pulverized his hearing. He opened his eyes in time to watch as two bloodied and lifeless bodies fell silently to the floor.

  Chapter 21

  They wouldn’t let either Iris or Donny into the house. Adam had waited for the all clear and then brought them to the scene, but they had to wait in the driveway, by his car. He’d said something about protecting the integrity of the crime scene, and even though, logically, she understood that, her emotions weren’t on board with the concept.

  “They said he’s all right, sweetheart.” Donny kept his arm around her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Like her, his gaze was focused on the door of the house, a door that stood wide open. Finally, Rich appeared at the door and stepped out into the late afternoon sunshine accompanied by one of the troopers.

  Iris ran the few feet to him, and he snatched her into his arms and held tight. “Thank God, thank God,” she said into his neck. And then she burst into tears.

  “I’m all right, sweetheart. I’m all right. Don’t cry, baby, I’m fine.”

  It didn’t even embarrass her to cry in front of all these people. She’d been so scared that Victor Swift was going to kill him, despite the assurances the cops had given her. She’d been afraid that she would lose him when she hadn’t even told him how she really felt about him. She hadn’t told either of them how she felt.

  “I love you. Oh God, Rich, I love you so much! I couldn’t live without you. I couldn’t live without either one of you.”

  Rich ran his hands up her back, combing his fingers into her hair. He tugged gently, urging her head back and met her gaze.

  “I love you, too, little subbie.” He leaned down and placed a very light kiss on her lips. The love in his gaze simply filled her heart. “Iris, I’m going to love you forever.”

  “Damn it, Rich, you scared the shit out of me.” Donny approached, moved close to her, and stroked his hand down her back. His words had been quiet but rife with emotion. Iris turned to him. “I love you, Donny. I love you more than I knew I ever could love.”

  “I love you, Iris. And, yeah, forever might just be long enough.” He kissed her forehead and then turned her face up and placed a soft kiss on her lips.

  Donny looked at Rich. “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah, I’m okay. Let’s see if we can get Adam to spring us,” Rich said. “I have to give an official statement. Maybe he can help make that happen, sooner rather than later. Then we can spend some time alone, just the three of us.”

  Iris sighed. “I’d like that.” Two ambulances arrived, but they didn’t appear to be in any particular hurry. There were no sirens blaring and no lights swirling.

  “Can you tell us what happened in there, bro?” Donny asked.

  Rich looked off into the distance and then slowly shook his head. With the gesture, he closed his eyes as if in pain. His tone told Iris he still couldn’t believe what he’d seen. “Edith Claymore and Victor Swift shot each other.”

  Iris swallowed. “Dead?”

  “Yes. It’s going to take a while for me to get over witnessing that. At least my hearing is almost back to normal.” He swallowed visibly and, for just a moment, looked unsure of himself. “I’ve never witnessed an act of violence like that before. It…it stunned me, in more ways than one.”

  Iris reached up and caressed his face. “I’m here for you, Sir.”

  Pleasure showed in his eyes at the use of the title. Iris knew that neither Rich nor Donny was interested in living the lifestyle twenty-four-seven, the way the Lyons did. They were more like their cousins, the doctors Jessop, in that regard.

  But she thought that maybe, in times of stress, their roles as Doms might serve as emotional anchors. She had no problem with that concept whatsoever. In fact, as soon as they managed to get alone, she knew exactly what she wanted. But first, she intended to do a little caretaking of her own.

  With both hands, she cupped his face and then, gently, she turned his head so she could see the right side. “You’ve got a goose egg there. Did you lose consciousness?”

  Her question made Donny jerk. He moved so he could see what Iris was looking at.

  “Damn it, Rich. You said you were okay. Why didn’t you tell us you’d been hurt?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Then when we get back to Lusty, you won’t mind one of the doctors Jessop telling us that, will you? Sir?” Iris knew what she must look like. One of the men she loved was hurting, and she’d walk on hot coals to see he got the care he needed.

  Rich stroked the side of her face, and then he looked over at Donny. “Yes, all right. We’ll head to the clinic when we get back to Lusty. Let’s get out of the way, here, and let these people do their jobs.

  Rich nodded toward Adam’s car, and then he and Donny led her in that direction. Both ambulances arrived with a driver and an attendant. One of the drivers conferred with Sergeant Parrish and then signaled to the other. It didn’t take them long to open the back of their vehicles and pull out the stretchers. They waited outside the front door for a few moments before entering the house.

  Iris didn’t see them come out again because Rich turned her away, his arms around her. She met his gaze and could see, very clearly, he expected an argument in response to what some might consider heavy-handedness.

  Iris didn’t interpret it that way at all. He’d hated having to witness what he had, and the Dom in him clearly was determined to protect her from any disquieting images.

  She laid her head on his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Thank you, Sir.” It was all she could think to do right then to soothe him. She used her hands and gently stroked his back. Donny stood close to her, his hand resting on her back. Her gaze met his, and he nodded, likely because he got her and he knew what she was
trying to do and he approved.

  It wasn’t until the ambulances drove off that Sergeant Parrish and Ramon Estevez approached. Adam trailed behind them, mostly, Iris knew, an observer on the scene since they were well outside his jurisdiction.

  “We’re ready to take your statement now, Dr. Kendall,” Sergeant Parrish said. “Why don’t you accompany us to my car?”

  Rich nodded, kissed Iris’s forehead, and then followed the state cop and Special Agent Estevez to one of the cruisers parked in the yard.

  “It won’t take long,” Adam said. “Clint will likely record his statement. Then he’ll have it typed up and bring it to Lusty for Rich to read and sign, probably in a day or so. Since the man who abducted him is dead, there’s no real investigative urgency.”

  “I wonder what happens to the college now?” It occurred to Iris that the woman who’d run the school was also dead. Who would be in charge of it?

  “The Claymore College does have a board of trustees, though how involved they are in the running of the school is anyone’s guess.” Adam shrugged. “When Rich mentioned he was going to be interviewed for a position there, I did some digging.”

  Adam didn’t have to explain himself beyond that. His cousin had been applying for a job, and he’d made it a priority to make certain the private school was aboveboard—or, Iris thought now, at least appeared to be so.

  “From the research Rich did and shared with me before he applied for the position, it read as if the trustees basically just sat back and collected their dividends.” Donny scowled, his hands on his hips.

  “For the time being, and under these circumstances, the state will probably appoint someone to act as dean. Then I imagine it will depend on the financial viability of the institution as to whether or not the college continues to operate.”

  Donny looked at Adam. “There’s also the question of the other students attending on those so-called scholarships, not to mention the network of ‘clients’ Swift had set up for those women.”