Hostile Takeover

by Hill, Joey W

  His lips pursed. “Deal. Just promise me you’ll lock the doors until I get back.”

  “Yeah, because stealing a stretch limo is so inconspicuous.”

  It wasn’t the limo that concerned him. The passenger was the real treasure. Shutting the door, he pointedly waited until she used the sharp painted nail of one forefinger and jabbed the door locks, engaging them. The exaggerated gesture, the fact she crossed her eyes at him, almost made him smile. The same way the streaked tracks of her tears squeezed his heart in a vise. She was a piece of work.

  He was pretty sure Ben was out there watching, probably within hearing distance. He’d wait until he was sure Max was taking her safely home, Max knew it. None of this made sense. He didn’t want to make Marcie unhappier, but he knew his responsibility. To her, to Matt Kensington…and to Ben.

  * * * * *

  Marcie held it together. She could deal with this. She’d get a good bath, a good night’s sleep, then figure out what to do next. But when Max turned into the driveway, a variety of emotions rose up, nearly choking her. She’d forgotten what night it was. While Cass and the other K&A women had that monthly afternoon tea, they also had the occasional girls’ night as well, which involved cocktails and lots of laughter. Unlike the tea parties, Marcie had never been home for one of those, because Cass made sure all the kids were at sleepovers or other activities on the night in question, probably so discussions could be far more adult.

  There was another limo in the drive, and she saw Wade give Max a companionable wave. He was Savannah’s regular driver, and Dana had probably carpooled with her, freeing Max up for the evening to chauffeur Ben.

  She felt that surge of resentment again, pushed it away. Marcie had called her car service on the way back, letting them know she’d found another ride. It would save her some money, the only consolation so far for this terrible night.

  “You going to be all right?”

  She looked at Max, who’d come around to open the door for her. She’d washed her face, combed her hair, dabbed some makeup on the black eye, though Cass already knew about that. She was fine. As fine as porcelain. Giving him a nod, she took his hand to get out. “I’m sorry I changed your schedule this evening.”

  “Not by much. All I was doing was waiting on Ben, picking up some extra cash with the overtime. He was planning on watching tonight, not playing. He’d only been inside an hour when he came out with you, so I assume he never got past his first drink.”

  “Oh.” Of course. She should have figured that one out herself. You couldn’t actively play and drink at Surreal. It was a club rule and why she’d had the tequila before she came. It didn’t matter. Ben could have taken the blonde outside the club to fuck her in the limo. Probably would have.

  Max was a family friend, and normally she’d give him a hug, but at the moment he was too male, too virile, and her clothes were too scanty, even though she’d donned the thin tunic top. Before then, he’d made a superhuman effort not to be caught staring at her overflowing breasts. She didn’t really mind that, but if those strong male arms surrounded her in a hug, she was either going to cry all over his shirt or take a swing at him.

  She opted for a cordial nod. She was going to make it all the way to her bedroom with quiet dignity.

  When she slipped in the door, she stood in the darkened foyer, staring down the hallway toward the light of the kitchen and sitting room areas. She listened to the women’s laughter, women who were submissives of varying degrees to strong Masters. Masters who were bonded to Ben in an exceptional pack relationship that included these women. But not her.

  She needed to go upstairs, go to her room, take a hot shower. At least get out of these clothes, which now felt cheap, tawdry, ridiculous. No, they weren’t. She wouldn’t let him make her feel like that. The outfit was damn sexy, intended to get the big-ass cock of one stubborn, asshole lawyer rock-hard. It had done that, or her behavior had done that, because what he’d pressed against her had definitely qualified as a raging hard-on.

  She leaned against the wall, taking a breath. Go upstairs. Go upstairs.

  Instead, she found herself moving past the staircase. They were in the sunroom, and she could hear their warm voices, drawing her to them.

  It had been surprising to see Savannah here, but her bed rest was taking it easy around the house, not actual confinement to a mattress. She’d probably wanted to get out for a little while and insisted on the event not being relocated to her home.

  All of the women were with strong Doms, but part of that was because they were such strong personalities themselves. She could just imagine the sparks flying between the two CEOs, but Savannah was here. With a limo driver to ensure her safety. Matt had likely already called him three times. Rachel having a medical background probably helped ease his mind some, and no doubt Savannah had used that fact for leverage.

  “Look at this catalog. A twenty-four-carat diamond bracelet for a baby? Are they out of their minds?” Savannah’s voice.

  “The scary thing is I’m sure some idiot buys them,” Dana responded.

  “Yes, so your baby can be mugged in her stroller. For the love of God, let’s stop looking at catalogs. I’m already addicted to the shopping networks.”

  “You sound cranky. I think you need to play a relaxing game of Twister. Rachel can post the video feed on Facebook.”

  “Give me her cane so I can beat her with it.”

  Cass’ chuckle was dry. “You know that’s just foreplay to Dana.”

  “Not if I beat her to death.”

  How many years had she dreamed of being part of that inner circle? Laughing, listening, knowing she was part of something incredibly special. Knowing she was meant to be part of it.

  Maybe in the end, she was just a dumb fucking kid who had no clue. Maybe Ben O’Callahan didn’t want her, and she’d made it all up in her head. The crush of a lonely teenager abandoned by her parents had evolved into the dysfunctional cliché of a delusional grown woman. That burning drive, the absolute certainty that she was meant to be with him, it had all been a dream. A little girl’s bullshit fantasy. The reason she refused to face the truth was it knocked the bottom out of her world, destroyed everything she thought she was, because so much of it had to do with her feelings for him.

  The seeds of doubt she refused to let grow, but which had lurked in her subconscious from the first moment she’d believed she was meant to belong to Ben, now grew into a monster beanstalk that covered everything else. If it was truth, if she had to face it once and for all, she needed her big sister, the only real mother she’d ever known.

  She paused in the doorway. She needed to turn around, retreat, because there was no way she could do this and not completely embarrass herself. The women were curled up in a variety of positions on the wicker furniture. Dana had her head on Rachel’s shoulder, grinning at something Cass was saying with expressive hands and a half-full glass of red wine. Savannah was on her side on the lounger, a pillow propped between her knees to support her belly as she listened. She was always the perfect ice princess, even in that position, her blonde hair in a smooth tail over her silk-clad shoulder, but her expression was relaxed in a way usually only seen in this company.

  Early on, Marcie had figured out what piece of jewelry served as a “collar” to each woman, primarily because they always wore it to the tea parties, and each woman wore it for any gathering where work demands or other fashion etiquette didn’t make it inappropriate.

  Savannah wore the delicate silver choker with rose quartz Matt had given her on their first anniversary. Cass had a pair of beaten silver cuff bracelets, etched with Japanese characters. She’d worn them at her marriage ceremony. Dana and Rachel’s collars could be mistaken for nothing else. Dana’s was a wide strap with a waterfall of decorative chains to soften it. The St. Christopher’s medallion that belonged to Peter was on the D-ring. Though it was her main collar, she sometimes alternated it with the more subtle jasper necklace with Peter’s dog tags th
at served the same purpose. Rachel’s reflected Jon’s exceptional design skills, made of sterling silver wire, bound at intervals by vertical supports made of gold, and embellished with a wire-wrapped sapphire pendant.

  That, as well as the whole scenario, told Marcie the harsh truth. She didn’t belong here. Marcie took a step backward, but Rachel was the one facing the doorway. Her gaze lifted at the movement, and apparently she got a good look at her face.

  “Cass,” she said, her serious tone bringing the conversation to a halt.

  Cass twisted around. In the very next moment, she was up and moving. Marcie stood frozen, watching her come forward. Suddenly she was a little girl again, she couldn’t help it. Cass had always been there for her, the sister who’d become mother to them all, the one they all leaned upon when things became unbearable. Knowing that, seeing those keen blue eyes, the concerned set of her mouth, she couldn’t hold it together.

  “I’m sorry,” she said brokenly. “I couldn’t…I needed you. All of you.”

  I had an odd dream the other night. It was dark, I was running from something, but I ran smack into it. I screamed, but then it was gone and you were there, blocking the darkness. That wasn’t the weird thing about it, though—you know it’s not the first time I’ve dreamed about you when I get anxious about things. What was odd was that, this time, as I watched you stare out at that darkness, making sure it didn’t come closer to me, I thought: When he dreams of darkness, who saves him?

  Letter from Marcie, first few weeks of college

  I always want to be there for you, brat, but in your dreams, don’t you ever run. You stop and face that darkness, tell it to fuck off. Never let it drive you away from what you want. Once you show fear to something, it owns you. And yes, that’s also the answer to your question. Someone can save you from darkness once or twice, but only you can kick its ass and send it running.

  Ben’s response

  Chapter Twelve

  The sobs burst out of her, everything she’d been trying to manage since it all started, all the pretense and bravado swept away on a violent tide. Her knees buckled, but Rachel was already there, helping Cass catch her. They let her fold down to the floor, Rachel stroking her hair as Cass closed Marcie in her arms, practically holding her in her lap.

  “I’m sorry. He doesn’t want me…he hates me… I made him hate me.”

  Cass’ hand whispered over her abraded wrist, then her gentle touch lifted her face, her thumb touching Marcie’s mouth. Something fierce and dangerous went through her sister’s expression. “Did he do this to your lip?”

  “No.” Marcie shook her head hastily. “I hit it on the car when he shoved me against it.”

  “Yeah, that’s loads better.” That tight comment came from Dana as she now crouched on the floor with Cass.

  “We’ll worry about that in a moment,” Rachel said quietly. “Let’s get her to the other lounger, take a look at her. She’s not moving well.”

  “Here, let her take this one. It’s longer, and I’ve warmed it up.” Savannah had made it to her feet, and was gesturing them to the six-foot-long couch.

  Marcie tried to protest, but they were moving her over there. She was hobbling a bit. The level of pain from the CNC session had worked her over pretty good, and then she’d tightened up further during her argument with Ben. On top of that her knuckles hurt from hitting him. She’d used that same fist earlier in the day, and the security thug had a rib cage like a steel vault.

  When they had her sitting, Rachel’s fingers moved over her, but Marcie shook her head, uncomfortable with the fussing. “‘It’s okay. He knew what he was doing, at least with the switch and the cane and…” She gave a hiccup, a near-hysterical snort. “That’d sound weird in the wrong crowd, wouldn’t it? I…it felt good and bad at once, you know. I’m okay. Just…tough session.”

  Which she honestly might have loved if it wasn’t driven by something so wrong between them. If Ben had been seeing how much she could take because he liked to push his slave to that level for their mutual pleasure, it would have been ecstasy for her. Another sob caught in her throat, made her clutch Cass harder, where she sat next to her on the couch. “I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m sorry.”

  “Sssshh.” Cass held her. “Just get it out, sweetie. It’s all right. We’re here. We’ve got you. Dana, can you find your way to my room and bring some warm clothes? I keep pajamas in the left top dresser drawer.”

  “Flannels and bunny slippers coming right up.”

  “She’s okay,” Rachel said, done with her cursory evaluation. “She’s right. Just sore and stressed. Do you have heat and ice packs?”

  “Master bathroom closet. This is one of her favorite rooms in the house. Can you work on her here?”

  “Yes, this is a good space. I’ll go get the packs and a warm throw for her to lie on while I work on her.”

  “I’m sorry,” Marcie whispered. “I hate making you worry, making you have to do things for me.”

  “Oh love.” Stroking her hair back, Cass kissed her forehead. “Do you know how long it’s been since you’ve needed me to do anything for you? I’m so sorry this happened, but I’ve actually missed being there for you every once in a while. You ask so little for yourself, always handling everything so well.” Marcie raised her head enough to see Cass smile through a sheen of tears. “I’m here for you, anytime.”

  “We all are,” Dana said. She was back, and her fingers were loosening the laces of the pants. She’d been exploring them to determine their shape and workings. Now Marcie let out a combination sigh of relief and discomfort as they lifted her to her feet and removed them. She’d left the shoes where she’d crumpled and someone had put them neatly to the side of the couch.

  When Rachel returned with a chenille throw, Savannah slid the tunic top over her head. Then her cool fingers caressed Marcie’s back, releasing the catch of the shelf bra, letting it slide down her arms. She took the leggings that Dana handed her, folded them up with the bra and put the clothes with the shoes while the others eased Marcie down to her stomach on the couch. She was now fully naked, but the warm throw felt good against her skin.

  “No shame, sweetheart,” Cass said. “We’re all girls here. All the kids are gone for the night. Jon has them making robots in his workshop or learning how to shape bonsai. One of his usual activities.”

  It made her smile a little, but she wasn’t ashamed to be naked with them. If Ben wanted to strip her naked on St. Charles, tie her to a trolley stop sign and sit on a nearby bench to read his paper and enjoy the view, that wouldn’t bother her. She was his. Because of the common elements that bound her to these women, particularly in this moment, she felt no more self-consciousness with them than she did with him. It might seem twisted to the rest of the world, but that was okay. It made sense to her.

  Cass’ fingers whispered over the cane marks. “Okay, some ice for these areas should be good enough. I give him credit. He never breaks the skin.”

  “Just every blood vessel beneath it,” Dana chuckled. “I remember.” She paused, as if realizing now might not be a good time to remind Marcie of that, but in answer, Marcie laced her fingers with the black woman’s, laying her head on her knuckles. It was different with Dana. She couldn’t really explain that either, but when you belonged to one of the Knights, in a peripheral way you belonged to all of them. Max’s words came back to her.

  You’re one of theirs.

  Dana stroked her hair, leaned down and kissed her temple, a soft nuzzle. “It wasn’t all Ben,” Marcie mumbled, wistfully passing her fingers over the St. Christopher’s medal, briefly hooking in the D-ring when Dana made a soft noise of sympathy. “Master L and Frank did the first part.”

  Now there was a full stop. Cass squatted where Marcie could see her face. “What?”

  “He wouldn’t take me to the club, so I went on my own. To Surreal. I did go to Baton Rouge to get info for Pickard, that wasn’t a lie. I just couldn’t tell you the rest.” It was
important to let her sister know that, see Cass acknowledge it with a nod. “Master L and Frank invited me to play with them. They were going to work me over on top of my clothes, which was fine at first, but they were really good at it. Ben was at the bar with this…woman. I didn’t know he was going to be there, but when I saw he was, and he was with her…I just wanted it all to go away. Anyhow, Master L and Frank did a good job. None of them broke anything.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.” Savannah was sitting on a broad and cushioned foot rest pulled over near them. She exchanged a glance with a tight-lipped Cass as Dana chuckled. She tugged Marcie’s hair.

  “Girl, you’ve got brass ones. Bigger than Ben’s even. Damn, I bet he was pissed.”

  “Obviously.” Cass’ voice was frost. Dana quieted, but she reached out, found the older sister’s knee.

  “Not like that, hon. You know what I meant.”

  “I do.” Cass sighed, rubbed her temple. It made Marcie flinch, seeing her worry. “Rachel, do you think we should put her in the hot tub?”

  “Good idea. That’ll help relax her, and then I can give her a full massage afterward.”

  They helped her to her feet, stayed close despite her protest that she could walk. The sun porch’s annex held a hot tub that could seat a dozen people. There were a few wooden loungers around it, some of Jon’s tranquil maples. He should start a nursery, call it Peaceful Plants. Ben could run a bakery right next to it. Steamed Buns.

  She must have said the first part, because Rachel gave one of her musical chuckles. She and Cass were helping her into the hot tub, one on each side. “I’ll suggest it as a retirement option for him. I think he has enough projects and ideas going right now to last him the next forty years.”

  “He took me by surprise,” Marcie said. There was no filter on her mouth right now, no organization, just myriad thoughts drifting through her head. She remembered that breakfast, what he’d told her about touching Rachel. “One moment he’s this peace-and-love super genius guru, the next, he’s a Dom and he…”