Rescued by a Dom and a Sub

by Eileen Green

  Jeremy’s neck stretched as he visually followed the man as he stood. He had to have been at least six and a half feet tall.

  Switching his brain to work mode, Jeremy moved over to check the passenger and assess the situation. As he took in the victim, he saw the beauty along with the injuries she had sustained. They were going to have to cut the metal around her legs to free her.

  He set about trying to get her bleeding to stop as Adam went about trying to get in the door on the other side to help. Fredricks managed to get the horn to stop which Jeremy was thankful for.

  “I’m sorry,” the magnificent man said behind Jeremy. Jeremy turned toward him and found the man holding out a business card. “I have to get up to the summit to retrieve my sister who might be in labor. If you have any questions, you can get a hold of me on either number that is circled.”

  Jeremy took the card and shoved it in his shirt pocket. He would definitely be getting in touch with the man.

  “Sir,” Fredricks said as he walked up to the man who topped the officer by at least two or three inches. “Did you witness the accident?”

  “No. I could tell her headlights were swerving and then all of a sudden, they disappeared. When I came around the curve, I found her car like this. I had to break the window to be able to get to her. All I could do was try to get her nose to stop bleeding even though it didn’t.”

  “You’re bleeding, sir,” Fredricks said with concern. “You need to go to the hospital to get checked out.”

  The man breathed in deeply, as if in agitation. “I have to get to my sister. She’s alone up there. I’ll get looked at when I take her to the hospital.”

  “Okay. We’ll be in touch for your statement.” Officer Fredricks knew when to give up on someone. Besides, who would want to go up against the giant before him?

  Within a minute, the man and his large truck were gone. Jeremy actually felt a loneliness in his heart. He would need to remedy that soon.

  Jeremy was now in paramedic mode although his heart recognized the woman as his. Tending to the beautiful woman trapped in the car, he had to save her before he could think of a future with her, or the man who had just left. His heart knew what it wanted, and who. He just had to figure out how to give it what it wanted.

  Chapter Two

  Pain still wracked her body, and it had been a month and a half since her accident. The headaches came and went, those caused by hitting her head on the window during the impact. The airbag had broken her nose when it deployed, but with her smaller frame, she had slid down, and her lower ribs had struck the bottom part of the steering wheel, breaking several of them.

  The crutches she had used since her release from the hospital had been ditched a couple of days before when her orthopedic surgeon had put her in a walking boot. Her right tibia had been broken in several places.

  All the bruises on her body were fading and had turned an ugly yellow-green color. Gravity had struck the ones on her face, and her cheeks were full of the hideous coloring. She was so ugly and hated to go anywhere. At least most of the cuts had healed, especially the ones on her lips. Those had made it difficult to eat.

  She had been given eight weeks off from work, and she was boreder than bored. A few of the ladies from work had come to visit, to keep her company, bring her meals, and try to cheer her up. Clara was thankful for them, but she hated for them to see her in her recuperating state.

  Clara wasn’t a vain person, but after seeing herself in the mirror, she had to say she was absolutely hideous. Going out in public made her anxious. However, today she had to go out.

  The investigation into her car accident had revealed the brake lines had been tampered with. They had been sliced into, but not cut all the way through. That was why she was able to go up the mountain without any problem. The fluid slowly leaked from the lines.

  Thinking that someone wanted her dead scared the hell out of her. She had no enemies that she knew of. There were no disgruntled ex-boyfriends in her past, and there weren’t any family members that she had upset.

  She had pushed the thought of someone trying to murder her aside. Until today.

  When she’d gone out to her replacement car to go to her doctor’s appointment, Clara found a note on the windshield. Trepidation washed over her as she picked it up and unfolded it. As she read it, fear rocked her to her core.

  The accident didn’t work. If you don’t stop investigating, next time you won’t be so lucky.

  That’s all it said in neat, typed words, most likely from a computer. The font was large, so the sixteen words took up most of the page as if the note was shouting at her.

  Clara had been born in South Korea and had lived with her mother until she was six, but then her mother had gotten sick. When she had passed away, Clara wound up in an orphanage because she was a mixed-race child. From what her mother had told her, Clara’s father was a U.S. serviceman who knew Clara existed but couldn’t take care of her. He was married to a woman back in the States and had a ten-year-old son, but he had claimed not to love his wife. Her mother hadn’t expected to get pregnant, but her father deserved to go back to his family.

  A nice older couple had come to South Korea and adopted Clara, bringing her back to the United States. She was brought up in a loving family by Dean and Emily Parsons who had died a year ago in a house fire.

  A name had been given by her biological mother for who her father was, yet Clara didn’t do anything about it until a year ago. Through her search, Clara had found out that her father had lived in San Antonio, Texas, and had been a congressman before he died. Through her searching, she discovered her half brother, Jeffrey Chambers was pursuing his dream in politics and was now a senator with aspirations for the presidency in another six years was known.

  Was this the reason she received the threat?

  Stepping from the elevator into the lobby of Owens’s Rocky Mountain Security, Clara was self-conscious about her face. The limp due to the boot was easier to accept, but she felt as if the few people sitting in chairs in the lobby were staring at her.

  The receptionist behind the large mahogany desk was speaking to no one in the area. Clara knew she must be on the phone on a Bluetooth device, so Clara waited, keeping her head down, thankful that her long black hair helped hide her face.

  * * * *

  Slight twinges of pain shot through Shane’s hand. The doctor told him there would be residual pain due to nerve damage since he hadn’t sought out medical help right away after he had smashed his hand through the window.

  His sister had truly been in labor. He had his doubts when he got up to the restaurant for Jenny was angrier at the delay than doubled over in pain as he thought women would be in her condition. Once he had her in his truck and explained what had happened, she calmed down.

  As they passed the scene of the accident, they were still trying to extricate the woman from her car. All he could do was say a little prayer, and even though he had felt a connection to the woman, his first priority was Jenny.

  Shane had insisted on staying with Jenny throughout her labor and the delivery of her healthy baby boy, putting himself at risk by delaying his own medical issue. Once Jenny was in a room and sleeping, Shane sought out help.

  The cuts were deep on his knuckles, fingers, and the back of his hand. In some places, the bones had been showing. It had been such a stupid thing to do, but he had to get to the trapped woman and help her out.

  Avoiding the painkillers, Shane dealt with the pain as he healed, and now, he would have to deal with the occasional pain for the rest of his life. Thankfully he was left-handed, and it was the right one that had been hurt.

  Across the desk from him sat Patrick Dunham and Tate Hawkins. They were in a relationship with each other and their woman, Missy. Several months ago, a maniac had blown up Missy’s car that was parked out front of Tate’s new house and then went in to try to kidnap her. Patrick had killed the man and had accidentally shot Missy. He had some PTSD issues to the
point that Tate and Missy had to go to the extreme of humiliating Patrick to bring him back to his senses.

  The discussion of home security was what they were discussing at the moment. Tate had already set up security for his businesses with Shane.

  “So,” Shane said as he looked down at the plans for the house. “We can do sensors at all points of entry. You said the new fence will be finished next week?”

  “Yes. We’re having a stucco fence on the sides and the back, but I don’t want to take away from the front of the house. I want to feel like I belong in the neighborhood, so we’ll have wrought iron fencing. I don’t know how you can work in sensors or high security into it,” Tate explained. “I’ve never had major security before at my house, but then again, I used to live in a penthouse downtown. We don’t want to feel like we’re living in a prison, but I want my family to be safe.”

  “I perfectly understand, Tate. With the openings in an iron fence, we’ll have to see what we can set up for you. Also, we have that fancy pool of yours to deal with,” Shane put out there. “You’re giving us a challenge.”

  “Hey, what kind of friend would I be if I made things easy for you?” Tate joked as he stood.

  Shane had watched three of his friends, and then Tate and Patrick, enjoy a dynamic to their relationships of Dom, and two subs. Patrick considered himself a slave as did one of Anthony’s mates. The aspect was something that had Shane thinking, but he didn’t think that he would ever find the person for him.

  “Well, give me a couple of days to look this over and see what we can do for you. We’ll work at keeping you all safe.” Shane stood as did Patrick. After shaking each of the men’s hands, Shane walked them to the door.

  “Thanks for fitting us in,” Tate said as he turned back to Shane. “See you tomorrow night at the club?”

  Taking a deep breath, Shane had to think about it. The Tiger’s Lair wasn’t doing it for him lately. The same unclaimed subs were becoming boring, and they tried so hard to get him to play with them, although they all knew the score. He didn’t have sex with any of them. He would only top them in play.

  Recently, watching his friends find their mates, Shane knew he wanted something more. He wanted a relationship where he could share his love and his lifestyle. He wanted domestic bliss.

  A quick thought back to the woman from the car accident had Shane’s heart speeding up. He wished he had a way to find her, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to find anyone who would offer up some information.

  There was that good-looking paramedic that had Shane’s heart pitter-pattering and his cock filling with blood, but despite giving the man his card, Shane hadn’t heard from him. It was such a shame.

  “Thank you again,” Tate said as he and Patrick moved toward the elevator. “Come tomorrow if you can.”

  Apparently, the man knew when to let the subject lie. Shane watched his friends’ step into the vertical conveyance and disappear as the doors closed. He moved back into his office and closed the door behind him.

  He was barely in his chair when Sharon, his receptionist, came into the room and closed the door behind her. “I’m sorry, Shane. There’s a lady in the lobby wanting to see you. She doesn’t have an appointment, but she looks like she might be in trouble. She looks like she’s been beat up or something. There are bruises all over her face and arms.”

  Hope blossomed in his chest. “What does she look like?” he asked quietly, curiosity getting the best of him as he got back on his feet.

  Sharon shrugged, her long curled locks bouncing slightly with the motion. “Except for the bruises on her face, she looks beautiful. She looks Asian.”

  Could it be possible? But how would she have found him?

  Shane buttoned his suit jacket. “Go ahead and show her in,” he instructed Sharon.

  Sharon had been his receptionist for the past four years. She had started out as a temp but proved she had what it took to handle the front line, and Shane himself.

  She disappeared from his office and quickly returned. It was a moment before the woman who had invaded his dreams for the past month appeared in the doorway. A limp was obvious from the orthopedic boot she wore.

  “Shane, this is Clara Parsons,” declared Sharon. “She says she is need of our services.”

  “Is this about the accident?” he blurted out as he rounded his desk and made his way over to her. He offered his hand. “I’m Shane Owens.”

  Long black hair hung down over her shoulders and down to her waist. Her head was held low as if she was trying to hide, or was there something else?

  Her slim hand slid into his, and after he shook it, she tried to pull away from him. He wouldn’t let her. Applying some strength to his hand, he held on and led her over to the cream-colored leather couch along the wall to the right of his desk.

  “Let’s get comfortable and talk about what you need, Clara,” he said softly so as not to frighten her.

  He stood at least a foot taller than Clara, and he had to wonder if she was scared in some way.

  Shane heard the door snicker closed, and he noticed Clara hunched her shoulders inward as if she was trying to hide from him. Her hair was a black silky curtain that hid a large part of her face and her torso. He wanted to pick her up, hold her to him, and promise he would take care of her. But he knew he couldn’t.

  “Did you want some water, or perhaps coffee?” he asked as he continued to hold her hand.

  She shook her head. “Your receptionist already offered but thank you.”

  “What can I help you with, Clara?” He usually wasn’t this personal with a new client. “Or would you rather me call you Miss Parsons?”

  “Clara’s fine,” she answered.

  Her voice was like a warm hug even though she was being demure. It spoke to his heart and his cock. He hoped the latter would mind and not embarrass him, but he pretty much knew it was a losing battle.

  Clara looked as if she was composing her thoughts, and then she lifted her face toward him quickly. “How did you know about the accident?” she inquired, confusion written on her lovely face.

  The accident hadn’t been kind to her. Shane was quite certain her small perky nose didn’t have that spot on the bridge that appeared to be slightly crooked beforehand. Her creamy complexion was marred by garish greenish-yellow bruises that indicated she was healing, but it didn’t take away from her beauty.

  Large caramel-colored eyes with the typical telltale shape of her Asian heritage held not only her concern and uncomfortableness but also fear. He had to wonder if she was afraid of him.

  Releasing her hand, he settled back on the couch and crossed one leg over his other knee while he slid his left arm along the back of the piece of furniture. He was aware she watched every action with what he thought was interest.

  There was a question on the table. “I was the person who was there for you right after the accident. There wasn’t much I could do for you except sit with you until help came.” He gave his explanation and then smiled. “I’m glad you’re all right. But, if you didn’t know that, then why are you here?”

  So, it seemed Mr. Handsome Paramedic hadn’t given her Shane’s business card. That left a couple of questions on the table. First off, why hadn’t he given Clara the business card? And, second, why hadn’t the man been in contact if he had kept the card for himself?

  Shane waited while she swallowed hard and tears filled her eyes. She slid her hands down the skirt she wore that had red flowers on it as if she was gathering her thoughts.

  When she finally spoke, her words were soft, and her voice shook. “I believe someone is trying to kill me.”

  At first, he thought he had misunderstood her. However, as the tears began to streak her cheeks, Shane knew he hadn’t.

  He knew he couldn’t react the way he wanted to. The overwhelming urge to wrap his arms around Clara Parsons and never let go struck him. Decorum, however, along with manners, and respect dictated he provide the empathy she deserved, and he di
dn’t want to frighten her. He needed to listen to what she had to say for she was fearful of someone.

  “Why do you think that, Clara? Has someone threatened you?” he asked gently.

  Clara reached into her pink-and-black leather purse, pulled out a piece of folded paper, and handed it to him. Reaching out, he forgot about his bad hand and took the paper. She took hold of his hand.

  “What happened to your hand?” she asked, concern lacing her voice. “Did that happen when you stopped to help me?”

  Electricity raced up his hand where her delicate fingers touched him and made a beeline to his heart. He was surprised yet pleased at her concern.

  “Yes. But, it’s fine. I had to make sure you were all right, and the doors were locked. It’s only this bad because I had to put off seeking medical help,” he explained.

  “But why? Didn’t the paramedics help you out at the scene?” Her fingertips were tracing the newly forming scars on his hand and fingers.

  Shane shook his head. “I couldn’t stick around once they got there. My sister was in labor up at the restaurant on Pike’s Peak, and I needed to get her to the hospital. They were still trying to extricate you from your car when I passed them going down the mountain.” He shifted slightly, bringing his left hand down to his thigh.

  “I’m sorry you got hurt because of me,” she said, her voice shaking.

  He moved his left hand up until it was cupping her chin. He moved her face up and toward him, so he could look at her lovely face.

  Her eyes softened as they widened, while her nostrils flared. She licked her lips as if to moisturize them.

  Imagining that pink tongue on his cock was a dangerous thing. Said cock was trying to escape the blockade of his underwear and slacks, but he hoped she didn’t notice.

  “There was no way I was leaving you alone, and I wasn’t going to have you stay locked in that car until help came. You were banged up, but your beauty called to me, Clara. I would do anything for you.”

  Knowing how unethical he was being, he had to pray she didn’t slap him and storm out of the room. He needed to protect her, not just for her well-being, but for his peace of mind.