Black Light: Branded

by Parker, Kay Elle

  “Good girl. Again. Give me some conviction, darlin'.”

  She was drowning in her own tears, her throat so tight with the need to swallow them back. Her breath whistled on the inhale. “No regrets. No blame for things out...of my control.”

  Approval warmed his eyes, turned them into dark pools of comfort she simply toppled headfirst into. Crawling into him, burying her face against his shoulder, she sobbed the words again and again. His arms slipped around her, supported her as he stood and stepped away from the truck, rocking her as he walked in a circle. “You're a good girl, Ava. This isn't your fault. The sooner you come to understand that, the easier it'll be to move us in the right direction.”

  Bad girl, Ava. Look what you're doing to the man. Forcing him to take care of you like a child. Rocking and walking you like a fucking baby in the middle of the night. A man who runs an empire, a highflyer in the ranching world, reduced to playing Daddy for a useless whore. Maybe he should just put you down, shoot you like a horse with a broken leg. It would make his life easier, wouldn't it?

  Something changed. Deep down inside her, where all the secrets were buried, a key turned in the tiniest lock. Ava didn't know what the lock kept safe, didn't have the energy to dig to find out, but she was aware of it.

  With that seed of knowledge waiting to take firm root, she closed her eyes and let him rock her away into oblivion.

  * * *

  Finn

  His heart finally started beating again.

  There'd been a moment, when the truck door cracked open and Ava leaned forward as though drawn to the ground flying past beneath the truck at thirty miles an hour, where Finn was sure she'd break free of his grip and throw herself out of the vehicle. Visions of her hitting the ground, her slim body rolling and bouncing like tumbleweed, bones breaking and skin ripping, had ripped the breath and soul from his body.

  His first reaction was to slam on the brakes, eradicate the lure of the blurring earth, but with no safety belt to keep her from catapulting forward, he'd had to take the time to slow the truck down. Seconds, just seconds was all it took, but enough of them to put a strain on his heart and lungs.

  Now, with her slight weight in his arms, he finally felt as though his boots were planted firmly once again. Control was back in his hands and he wasn't going to let it go without a fight. He couldn't afford to let it slip, not with the consequences they both faced if he let it lapse.

  He murmured to her, feeling her body relax and grow heavy. Anxiety attacks exhausted her as effectively as a day of hard work, overtaxing her clever brain to the point where sleep was her only option. The early start hadn't helped; being tired made her more susceptible to the attacks, which landed squarely on his shoulders. He wasn't surprised she was out like a light, her breathing slow and heavy. He was just pleased she'd calmed enough to give her mind time to recover.

  Carefully, he carried her back to the truck and slid her into the cab, strapping her back into the seatbelt. She looked incredibly small and helpless, stirring his protective nature. After a second's thought, he shrugged out of his jacket, folded it, and arranged it behind her head for support. A little adjustment to her position and she actually looked comfortable. Finn picked up the bottle of water she hadn't had chance to drink and set it in her lap in case she woke thirsty.

  He closed the door gently, bumping it fully shut with a hip, then circled the truck to take his own seat. What to do now? Ava needed rest. They were less than an hour away from the east station, and Finn was too aware of the time ticking past. If Thomas was destroying evidence, he'd be doing it now. If Finn turned the truck around and took Ava home, it would be too late.

  “That was...insightful. You handle her well, Finn.”

  What the actual... “Doctor Parrish?”

  “I'm sorry, I should have ended the call but I thought if you required assistance, it would be quicker to have me at hand. You're a very capable man, Finn; I must admit, you've impressed me.” Papers rustled. “Is your submissive settled now?”

  He'd left the damn truck running, he realized. Ready and waiting to haul ass in whichever direction he chose. Going forward meant conflict and change; turning back signified staying where they were, allowing the old ways to continue. Glancing at Ava's sleeping face, Finn had no intention of going back. With Ava, decisions had to be made for the future, and this was one of them.

  He shifted into gear, released the handbrake, and moved forward.

  “She's sleeping. Anxiety wears her down, tires her out.”

  “I see. Has she hurt herself?”

  “No, she's good. We need help from someone who knows what they're doing, Doc. I'm just slapping Band Aids on to a sucking chest wound. I'm starting to feel like there's blood slipping through my fingers and I'm standing in a pool of it while Ava holds onto the last thread of life.” He twisted his hand on the wheel in agitation. “I'm sure you have some idea of how well a Dom reacts to being useless, Madeline.”

  “Like a bear with its paw in a trap and a chain around its neck. Yes, I understand how you must be handling this, but I feel I need to reassure you, Finn. Useless, you are not. Until I meet Ava and personally gauge her mental well-being, it's difficult for me to form the correct path of treatment. I believe, from what I heard just now, that path will be considerably easier with you at her side. You have the emotional strength, confidence, and dominance to guide her beyond the need to self-harm.”

  “There's an underlying cause to all this,” he ground out, squeezing the truck between the posts of a narrow gateway. At this time of the year, the gates remained open to all areas unless stock was contained. “Her father, her childhood. This isn't going to be a simple case for you, Doc. I can get her to D.C. or I can bring you to Montana, but I need to know that if she puts her trust in you to help her, you're going to be there. No passing her off to someone else halfway down the line or bowing out gracefully. I'll pay whatever you want, I'll make any arrangements necessary, but this has to work.”

  Madeline made an agreeable noise that didn't really soothe his nerves. However, her voice was calm and self-assured. “You're prepared to go some lengths, that's good. I don't have much time left before my next appointment is here, so I'll lay down some ground rules for you to think over.” The slightest pause as she gathered her thoughts, then, “We will figure out a way to make this work for all of us, if Ava connects with me as her therapist. If she doesn't, I can work with you to find someone who fits her needs more capably. It may come to a point in the future when Ava requires additional support, other than myself. As for money, I charge a set fee for my hours. I'm not here to milk people of their cash, Finn, and I doubt Spencer would recommend me if I did.”

  “No, I doubt he recommends anyone who isn't straight as a die.”

  “This Friday, my Doms are considering an evening at Black Light. We usually get there around ten, depending on what time the guys get home, but I can ask to go earlier and meet you for a coffee somewhere if you and Ava would be able to get to D.C. Maybe have an informal meeting and see if Ava's happy with the situation.”

  Ava wasn't going to be happy, Finn thought darkly, but he didn't have the luxury of hunting down therapists with a kink-friendly attitude. Not when his gut told him they were in for dark times if he didn't do something soon. “Just name the time and place. I'll make sure we're there.”

  “Excellent. Let me have a word with them tonight and I'll get back in touch with you. I'll need to get some details from you or Ava, if she's willing to talk to me on the phone.” A faint knock sounded, and Finn knew their discussion was over. “That's my next appointment. Have some faith in yourself, Finn. You're doing exceptionally well with her, and we'll work on the rest. I'll call you later on this evening.”

  “Thanks, Doc. I appreciate it.”

  “Anytime, Finn.”

  The truck fell silent as the call ended, and Finn was left with his own thoughts. There was hope, Madeline had given him that, but Friday was three days away. In theory,
keeping Ava calm and her anxiety levels low was manageable. In reality, she had so many thoughts running through her head she didn't talk about, Finn couldn't say what would set her off or when.

  He was a man of focus, he reminded himself. He had a keen eye for spotting trouble, he could fix anything he had a mind to, and when the woman he loved was the focal point of his attention, he wasn't taking his eye off the fucking ball.

  There was a multitude of ideas catalogued in his head on just how he was going to do that when he pulled off the pasture track onto the private road leading up to the east station.

  It was small in comparison to home. Finn had designed and built it for one purpose—fattening calves. The pastures in this section were dotted with numerous shelters, manmade and natural, and he'd constructed a half-dozen large barns to hold stock during the worst of the winter months. Silos held grain, more barns were stacked with hay and straw. The yard was big enough for transporters to turn around in and back up to the loading chutes leading off the weigh station.

  Finn drove into the yard, disturbed to find the place quiet. He checked his watch, narrowed his eyes, and simply sat tapping his fingers on the wheel once he pulled up outside the office. He killed the engine and turned to Ava, pleased she was still sleeping. He was going to leave her that way while he dealt with some unpleasantries.

  He climbed out, eyes scanning the area. Not a person, dog, or horse in sight. Cattle lowed in the distance, which put his mind at ease somewhat but didn't quite dispel the wariness gnawing at the base of his spine. He reached back into the truck, grabbed his phone from the dash holder, and quietly notched the door closed as he called Ash.

  “Boss.”

  “Ash, you got any idea what's supposed to be heading out from the east station today?”

  “Not off the top of my head. Thomas is in charge of east, he doesn't have to keep me updated. The reports come in weekly and we deal with them then. Why, is there a problem? I’ve printed out copies of Thomas’s reports from the last three years and I’m going through them now.”

  Finn scowled and walked across the concrete to the pens. “Yeah, there's a motherfucking problem. I'm in the yard, Ash. What do you hear?” He pulled the phone away and held it up for a few long seconds as rage built like a volcano inside him. He was almost snarling when he pressed it back to his ear. “Want to take a guess?”

  “Jesus Christ. It's empty?”

  “Not a soul here,” Finn confirmed. “Get the chopper back to base, Ash. Refuel and get it over here. Get some of the guys and their horses here too. Before you say anything, yes, I know it's going to be a few hours before they get here, and yes, I know I might be jumping the gun. But these pens are fucking empty, my station manager is suspiciously absent when he knew I was on my way here, and the station is a goddamn ghost town. I want a full fucking head count of cattle.”

  “Not arguing with you, boss. We'll get there as fast as we can.”

  Finn nearly crushed his phone before comprehending he'd need it again. He shoved it into his back pocket, then bent to study the dung on the concrete floor of the pen. Fresh, wet. Stock had been moved recently, but the question was where? “Fuck!”

  Stomping over to the office, he checked Ava on his way past, then headed into the building. It stank of cigarette smoke and weed. The desk was choked with paperwork, ash, and an ashtray that needed emptying a week ago. It hadn't been like this the last time Finn checked in on the place—Thomas usually kept his workspace as pristine as Finn kept his.

  So, what the fuck was going on?

  Finn jiggled the mouse, brought the computer off standby, and took a moment to look through various folders. Seeing nothing obviously untoward, he decided to leave it for the time being and dig into the system once he got a firmer handle on the clusterfuck Thomas had dropped into his lap.

  What was the probability, he asked himself as he took a deep breath, Thomas had had a bad week? There could be any number of jobs the crews were out doing away from the yard. But for all ten ranch hands and their manager to be absent? Slim odds on that.

  Gritting his teeth, Finn whirled and stormed out, damn near marching to the long, low building behind the office that housed the bunks. The door was ajar, and before he got within six feet, he knew what he'd find. He slapped it open, let it bounce off the wall with a crack. Inside, the place was trashed.

  Bunks were empty of pillows and blankets. Bedside drawers and storage chests had been thrown open, the contents rapidly gathered. There were items of clothing randomly tossed, missed in their owners' haste to pack. They'd left their garbage, taken the basics, and fucking bolted.

  “What the fuck were you and your crew up to, Thomas?” Finn rammed his fist into the doorjamb, relishing the shock of pain that kissed his knuckles and radiated up his arm. Flexing his fingers, he retrieved his phone and called Ash again. “They're gone, Ash. The whole motherfucking lot of them. I need you to ask some of the guys at home, guys you can trust,” he added with emphasis, even though he knew trust was so far out the goddamn window now, it wasn't likely to ever make its way home, “if they want to relocate here for a few weeks. I don’t know yet what kind of mess they’ve left, but I want it cleaned up and the station kept running.”

  “Fuck,” Ash drawled. “They just—”

  “Gone.”

  “Yeah, I'll get on that. But only a few weeks? Are you planning on hiring new hands for east?”

  No. No, he was not. “I'll explain when you get here. Ash, I'm sorry to do this to you, but I'm gonna need you here now. I need you to run east until I figure out what the fuck's been happening and what we've got left.”

  Ash, God bless him, didn't hesitate. “You think I'm gonna say no to stepping up? I'll get my gear packed.”

  “Thanks. Oh, and one more thing...” Finn calculated the date in his head, smiled wickedly. “Payday on Friday, right?”

  “Sure is.”

  “I wonder if these boys think I'm going to be riled up enough to forget that little detail. Make some calls, Ash, using my authorization, and let's cancel their celebration party, shall we? Null and void those paychecks. I'll need a list of each and every employee from this station ready to hand over to the cops as soon as we know what's missing. I guarantee they haven't taken off without a financial backup.” In the shape of my fucking cattle. “Call me when it's done.”

  “Yes, boss.”

  Finn shook his head at the mess, then walked back outside to take several long, calming breaths.

  Ten years. Ten fucking years of what he thought was a strong relationship, ten years of trust, shattered in an instant. He'd had his reservations about leaving the station unsupervised at first, but Thomas's work ethic, his attitude and eagerness toward his role had won Finn over. Finn's visits had gone from three times a week to one. Once a week to monthly. The results had spoken for themselves, but now Finn questioned how much those results had been skewed to Thomas's benefit.

  Christ, he needed to get out there and start pulling what was left of the cattle in. It was going to take days to round everything up and sort things out depending on where Thomas had run everything over winter. Twenty thousand acres was a lot of ground to cover, and without additional support, without being able to leave Ava, Finn's hands were momentarily tied.

  There was nothing stopping him from heading out in the truck, was there?

  Nope, not a fucking thing, he decided, and headed back to the Dodge.

  The empty Dodge, with no Ava in sight.

  Fury at Thomas morphed into sheer terror at losing Ava. If he wasn't careful, his heart might just give out under the strain. If Ava wasn't careful, she'd end up with a collar around her neck with the attached leash in his fist. She was like a curious puppy, ambling off to smell the flowers and play with butterflies. Finn cupped his hands around his mouth and bellowed, “Ava!”

  There was silence in the moments following his shout, then an answer floated back to him in her voice. A tight voice, strained and unhappy. “Um, Finn? I th
ink you should come look at this.”

  “I would if I knew where the hell you've disappeared to, darlin',” he muttered under his breath. He thought the reply came from near the pens, but he couldn't see her anywhere. “Where are you?”

  Movement caught his eye and he turned to see her step up to a gate blocking off one of the barns. She waved him over, then disappeared back into the shadows. Cursing her, he ran across the yard and smelled death before he reached the gate. He vaulted it, landing heavily in a bed of straw so thick with shit, it almost sucked the boots off his feet with his first step.

  Ava waited for him; he grabbed her arms and shook her gently. “What the hell are you doing, Ava?”

  She was white with a hint of green, he noted, and her eyes were distressed. “I woke and you were gone. I thought you were talking to the manager, so I thought I'd do as you asked and snoop.” Her lips turned down at the corners. “I snooped in the wrong place.”

  Her arms were trembling. One glance at the barn's interior told him why. “Jesus. Darlin', you need to go outside for me, okay? Go get some air.” His eyes scanned the dead bodies scattered throughout the barn, cold and hard, but his heart was dying. “Ava, there's nothing we can do here. Not until Ash comes with some more hands. Go outside.”

  Her tiny hands fisted, and he realized she wasn't trembling with shock or sickness, though they were in the mix too. His little dove was angry, real angry. “No. This is ranching, right? Animals die and we have to deal with it. In my position as welfare manager, however,” she told him before she used her hand to cover her mouth and nose against the sweet scent of decaying flesh, “I'm advising you fire your station manager, Finn.”

  “I'm planning on doing more than firing him, darlin', don't you worry.” As he took a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and fashioned a covering for her face, Finn counted the animals on the floor. Eight dead, most of them heavily pregnant. He shook his head in disgust, unwilling to believe Thomas could be responsible for this mess, then distracted himself by tying the cloth in place around Ava's head.