by J Paton
“Back down, Nathan. He just wants to check on Lenny,” the other man urged, breaking the silent battle of wills between us.
“He can check all the fuck he wants once I know there is an ambulance on the way.”
Seeing this was getting us nowhere, I pointed at the man on the floor. “Nathan, I don’t want to hurt Lenny. I just want to see what needs doing in order to stabilise him before the ambulance gets here. They have been dispatched.”
As if to confirm what I’d said, the radio strapped to my armoured vest crackled to life, a tinny voice announcing that the ambulance had arrived on scene. The men in my team eyed Nathan and the other man warily when they didn’t react to the demands being made of them.
Nathan pointed to the doorway. “I’m the owner of this business. I rang you guys. Go up to my office on the second floor, the staircase is to the left as you exit the cellar. I’m sure you’ll find whatever information you need on the screens there.”
All the testosterone in the room had the tension in the room increasing as some of my officers started to bristle at Nathan’s behaviour. Hoping to avert any further incidents between my officers and two very angry Dom’s, I indicated for Preston and Lee to do as Nathan had suggested. It was a hard-fought battle not to react to the angry hostility coming from both men before they left the cellar. Now wasn’t the time to deal with homophobic arseholes. That would come later.
There was a flurry of activity as more men poured into the room. I stepped far enough away to allow the paramedics to be able to work. It was hard not to react to the two massive men’s palpable anguish and fear. A wave of sympathy stole my breath for a moment as an image of Jup came into my head.
Don’t go there. Not now. For fuck’s sake, keep it together!
I swallowed hard, working to put the images back behind the wall I’d built to deal with the human casualties that came from choosing this life.
Emotions masked, I focused on what needed to happen next. “I have a few questions for you both, and it may be best to let the paramedics do their job.” I tagged on the latter when both men looked as if they were about to refuse. When they stared at me as if to say, ‘are you for fucking real?’ I tried a different tack. “We can do this down the station, if you want?”
***
Several hours later than I’d planned to be home, I opened the front door to be met with darkness and utter silence.
Fuck!
Switching on the hall light, I removed my coat and hung it up wearily. Car keys dropped in the dish on the hall table as I passed, I headed to the kitchen. The closed door caused my heart to sink.
Out of habit more than anything, I opened it to check the room, already knowing Jup wouldn’t be there. I paused to take a deep inhale. Double fuck!
Had Jup eaten? The lack of cooking smells set off alarm bells, and I turned to quickly retrace my steps and then go upstairs. I made enough noise to let Jup know that I was home so that I didn’t startle him.
My hand hesitated over the bedroom door handle as I braced for what might greet me. The images from the cellar, and from what I’d watched on the security feed at the club were still fresh in my mind. As the door swung open my heart leapt into my throat, stopping the breath from reaching my lungs. “Oh Jup, I’m sorry.”
Teary, grey-green eyes met mine in the dim light from the lamp on the bedside table. It cast a warm glow over the room, but all I could feel was the bitter cold of disappointment that I’d left Jupiter alone.
He sat huddled under the covers as if he was trying to keep warm, even though the room was overly hot. His dark brown hair was a mass of tangled curls that framed his pretty face, which was a mask of misery. “I was worried… Sir,” he whispered so softly that I strained to hear him.
I gave him a reassuring smile as I went and sat next to him on the bed. I laid a hand on Jup’s trembling arm. “We’ve talked about this Jup, you know I’ll always come back. I made a promise never to leave you again.”
Tears ran down his pale cheeks. “I… what…” His sobs stopped whatever he’d been trying to say.
As this wasn’t the first time I’d been on this particular merry-go-round, I wrapped my arm around Jup’s rail-thin shoulders and held him close. “I’ll keep you safe. And I’ll keep saying it till you believe me.” I put as much conviction into my voice as I could, hoping against hope that I was telling the truth.
Tucker
“You’d think that guys who go to places like that would just suck it up. I mean why else would they be in a club like that? They probably loved the fucking beatdown they got, the sick fucks.” Preston’s voice carried across the room to Lee, who laughed at the vile comments.
Anger vibrated through me as I struggled not to demonstrate to Preston the difference between consenting adults and abuse. “A word, Preston,” I gritted out through clenched teeth.
The room quietened, the men watching with interest. I paid them no heed as I marched across the open-plan office we’d chosen for the debrief to the open door.
Once out of the room, I took a deep breath, hoping for calm and maybe a smidgeon of patience. There was the familiar scent of coffee, stale sweat and cleaning products that never quite masked the other two as I faced that prick, Preston.
Preston sauntered towards me like he didn’t have a care in the world. It was officially a bank holiday today so most of the men were dressed casually. Preston was no exception in a pair of dark jeans and a designer T-shirt he probably thought made him look hot. The way his lips were curled in a sneer, it was a damn struggle not to smack it right off his face.
The guy had only been with the team for a few months and had recently found out I was gay. Ever since then, Preston had been skating close to the line of being disrespectful. It would seem that today he was ready to jump across the boundary and become an arse.
In order to keep my hands off the man, I shoved them into my trouser pockets. “Do you want to repeat what you said in there?” My voice dropped several octaves, dripping with icy contempt.
Preston’s mask of indifference slipped a notch and he went still. “I was only messing around.”
“Is that right? There are two victims in the hospital, one of who is in ITU. Do you think they were asking for that?”
He stiffened even more as he blustered, “That club is all about BDSM. Surely they know what they’re letting themselves in for.”
Ignorant fucker. I tilted my head and arched my brows. “Is that so? Are you a member of such a club?”
An ugly red stain covered Preston’s face, his eyes firing angry indignation at me. “What? Fuck no. I’m not a pervert.”
This time the insult struck hard, and I moved before rational thought could take over. With the two men’s battered faces still firmly in my head, I shoved the fucker back against the wall. Using my extra couple of inches to look down on Preston, I pressed my chest to his, giving him no room to move. I didn’t bother to hide my contempt as I eyed him. “How the fuck did you get through diversity training?” I snarled.
“Parks, back off,” came Carl Metcalf, the Detective Superintendent’s voice from the doorway we’d exited earlier.
I shifted my gaze from Preston to the Detective Superintendent stood a few feet away. Only then did I shift back, even though it was the last thing I wanted to do. I’d spent years gaining respect. I wasn’t about to piss off my own superior for a dickwad like Preston.
“Did you hear the crap coming out of this pathetic excuse for a copper?”
There was no discernible reaction from the man watching us. “Back in the room and let’s start the debrief,” was the Detective Superintendent’s only response as he spun around and disappeared.
Fucking hell!
Preston gave me a smirk before walking back into the room.
Had I missed something? Were Preston and the Detective Superintendent tight?
A shout came from the room. “Parks, get in here.” Mustering my professionalism, I masked my anger to walk into the
room as if I didn’t have a problem. I chose the seat farthest away from Preston as the meeting got underway.
The debrief was short. No one wanted to hang around after having their New Year’s Eve plans scuppered. Once the boss had told everyone they could leave, the room emptied quickly.
I held back until everyone else had left except the boss. “What was that about earlier? You heard Preston, and surely you noticed his and Lee’s reactions to what was discussed?” The whole fucking room had to have noticed all the headshaking and eye rolling that had been going on.
The Detective Superintendent rubbed the side of his temple and groaned. “You ain’t gonna start again, are you? If you keep wanting to kick men out of the team, there’ll be hardly any men or women left to fucking pick from.”
I kept my features blank with difficulty, recalling how many times I’d gone through this rigmarole already. Some people just didn’t seem to know where the boundaries were. “That might be so—”
“Don’t use that icy tone on me, it doesn’t work.” The Detective Superintendent continued to rub at his left temple as he eyed me with a hard expression from the other side of the table. “Let it be for now. I’ll keep my eye on the situation.”
The finality in his tone told me that it was a waste of breath to push the issue further, so I clamped my lips together and nodded.
Carl Metcalf was an enigma because he never showed an ounce of feeling. For that reason, he’d been nicknamed Iron Mask. He never revealed anything of what was going on in his head. We’d worked together ever since I’d transferred from special ops to the Armed Response Unit two years earlier.
Carl picked up the notes which detailed the events from the day before. “This case appears open and shut to me.” He flicked through the papers, his eyes narrowing.
“Looks like. Once he regained consciousness, Devon Critchlow couldn’t keep his gob shut. The stupid arse ranted about what he’d do to Mr. Robertson if he ever got his hands on him again.” I shook my head. “Some people just aren’t born with smarts, that’s for sure.”
The boss tapped the paper as he glanced at me. “Pass on the information to whoever is appointed SIO and move on.” His expression turned thoughtful, his gaze sweeping the room before returning to me.
Something about the look in Carl’s eyes set off alarm bells, but the look was gone as quickly as it had appeared, making me doubt I’d seen anything other than what the boss normally portrayed— nothing.
The Detective Superintendent stood and I followed suit, searching for something to say to a man who didn’t do small talk. “You heading home now?”
He sighed. “Yeah, the wife wasn’t happy I had to come in today.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “She married a copper, so what does the woman expect?”
His heartfelt sigh brought a smile to my lips. “Don’t ask me.”
“Yeah, I forgot you prefer the single life. What is it they say, if I knew then what I know now, and all that bullshit?”
My smile grew as I got my first glimpse in two years of the man behind the mask. “Isn’t that what divorce lawyers are for?” I quipped back, struggling to contain my amusement.
“She’d string me up by the short and curlies. Do I look like a fool to you?” There was something in his tone that took away the humour of the situation, but before I could examine it more closely Carl waved me off and headed towards the door. “Don’t stay too long. Man cannot be sustained by work alone.”
I watched as his suited back disappeared down the silent hallway. An odd feeling developed in the pit of my stomach as I contemplated the boss’s assumption about my personal life. I shook off the niggling feeling as I collected the few remaining reports detailing the events of the day before.
Back at my desk, I used the blessed silence to go over the notes, making sure I’d covered everything. I sat back in my chair and stared out of the window. What wasn’t there was the gut feeling that there was more to this whole situation. Devon’s rantings had alluded to that, but the question was what? That’s not for you to be digging at.
An image of a beaten and abused sub flashed into my mind and I sucked in a shaky breath. My hands shook around the file I held.
Shut it down, now!
It was a struggle to shove the imagery back into the box marked, ‘do not open at any cost’ in my mind. No longer appreciating the quiet, I opened the top drawer of my desk, shoving the files inside before closing it. For some reason that I didn’t question, I locked the drawer. I stared at the key for several long seconds before standing to grab my jacket off the back of the seat and pocketing the key.
I passed several people in the corridor, all of them wishing me a “Happy New Year.” Was it really a happy one? It didn’t feel particularly happy. The tiredness and crankiness I’d worked so hard to hide from my team was surfacing now that I didn’t have anything to occupy my mind.
The two hours I’d spent last night talking Jup off the cliff had been gruelling. He’d been worse than usual. It had left a bitter taste in my mouth this morning when I hadn’t had any choice but to leave Jup, even though I’d known he’d remain fretful for days to come.
Would it get better? How much time needed to pass before we could both learn to breathe without fear? Would we ever get there?
A knot of dread formed in my stomach at the possible answers.
Once I’d exited the building into the grey, blustery day that matched my mood, I headed straight for the car park. The fact it was half empty showed that people were home doing bank holiday stuff with their friends and family. What was I going to be doing?
I sighed and quickened my pace. Inside the car, I started the engine and put the heater on full in the hopes it would take away the chill. The traffic was light on the drive to Wapping.
The small, three-bedroomed house where I lived was the same one I’d grown up in. When my parents had retired, they’d chosen to move to Toulon where they’d bought a holiday home years before. The all-year-round warmer climate was something they’d both craved after decades of crappy winters in London.
When I’d moved back to London, they’d signed the house over to me. Otherwise, there would have been no way I’d have been able to afford a house in this part of London. To their way of thinking, I was just getting my inheritance early, and without being hit with a massive tax bill. I pulled into the off-road parking in front of my house, barely having had chance to cut the engine before the front door flew open.
Jup didn’t get beyond the front doorstep. He stood there waiting with huge, terrified eyes. They remained on me, my heart jerking hard in my chest. I opened the car door and got out, searching the street for some unknown foe that might have set Jup off.
But just the same as every other time, there was nothing out of the ordinary. My heart rate settled a fraction as I turned my attention back to the now empty doorway. The earlier question returned like it was fucking programmed into my brain on repeat. Would it get better?
Fuck, I hoped so. I really did. For both our sakes.
Dom’s Haven
Riley
The phone on the desk rang and a shiver raced down my spine as I reached over the pile of applications to answer it. “What?”
“He’s on his way up,” said a voice filled with trepidation. I didn’t need confirmation of who “he” was. I’d been expecting a visit ever since receiving a message about what had happened. Devon, the fucker! I’d warned him to let it go. But had he listened? Had he fuck. And now we were all going to have to suffer the consequences.
“Fine.” I put the phone down with a hand that trembled as I eyed the closed door and started to count down the seconds. A drop of sweat slid from my hairline as the seconds stretched for longer than I’d expected. It was a game the Master liked to play to keep me on my toes, and to increase feelings of anxiety.
It was what the man excelled at, and one of the reasons he terrified the house subs. In his Dom persona, he could, and would, prolong moments until all the subs
experienced terror at what he might do next. He was such a sick fuck that he made Hannibal Lecter appear sweet and kind. His proclivities went way beyond hardcore BDSM. It was how we’d first met, when he’d been searching for a place to cater to his darker side. I liked to play hard and rough, which was why the BDSM lifestyle suited my darker needs. And yes, many might call me a sick fuck too, but even I had my limits. Whereas Master had none.
The faint noises of activity from beyond the door were drowned out by the sounds of my own breathing as it accelerated to match my pulse rate. Floorboards creaked ominously in the hallway, but the door remained closed.
Fucking arsehole!
The leather of the seat squeaked beneath me, my nerves strung tighter than a bow. I was about to snap when the door opened and the devil appeared. Tonight, his clothes would have been more suited to a high-powered boardroom meeting than attending a BDSM club. Had he come straight from work?
Dread joined the anxiety as I looked him in the eye. He’d perfected the sinister expression on his face. More sweat beaded on my brow, and it took effort to remain seated as the other man came in and shut the door behind him. The power emanating from him made the room shrink.
I opened my mouth to speak, to explain about the latest fuck-up, but he lifted a hand to stop me, the icy anger in the depths of the gaze making the words die in my throat.
“You’ve fucked up, Riley.” As it wasn’t a question, I remained silent. The man licked his lips, his eyes boring holes into my soul. “One of your Dom’s has been arrested for fucking kidnapping and assault.” His voice was silky smooth, but nothing hid the icy contempt in it.
Pretending to be clueless seemed like the best option. “Which Dom? The men here know how to be careful. You’ve reviewed our procedures to screen Dom’s. Since the Player’s Kingdom problems, and those two minor incidents last year, we’ve been careful—”
“Not careful enough it would seem. Ferron Robertson was bought by Devon. Correct?”
I blinked slowly, struggling to not squirm. I’d fucking kill Devon for this shit!