Submit to Me

by Sappharia Mayer

  Chapter Four

  Jessica watched him from the oversized chair. It would fit his large form perfectly, but it swallowed her whole. She felt like a child in a grown-up chair but refused to let it show. The minute she'd seen the seating arrangement, she knew which one she'd choose. He meant it to intimidate and set a power tone to anyone who sat in this conversational area.

  Across from her, she watched the well-controlled emotions roll through the director of security. There was something about him. If someone forced her to profile it, she'd call it guilt, but there was no evidence he was guilty of anything in this situation. So her only alternative was to dig deeper and find out what was going on here.

  "You look tired," she observed out loud.

  Kade nodded. "It's been a trying day, and it's still early."

  "How about you let me help? We can go over security tapes together. If it's a hoax, then I'm out of your hair. If it's not a hoax, then I can lend a hand to help solve whatever is going on around here."

  Kade took a deep breath and stared at her.

  "I appreciate the offer, Detective, but we've got the situation under control."

  "Call me Jessica," she offered.

  "Excuse me?" Confusion etched Kade's face.

  "Call me Jessica. Detective sounds stuffy and formal," she said with a smile. "Mr. Kinkaid, if I might make an observation, we might get further."

  "I don't think I could stop you if I wanted to, Det... Jessica."

  "True enough," she laughed.

  The change in her tone caused Kade to visibly relax, and she smiled.

  "Your office is small for a director of a department, but I'm banking it was your choice. If I were to guess, the operation center is right through the door on the far wall. The proximity to your team is important to you. You work as a unit, and it is something you want to foster."

  Across from her, Kade shifted in his seat.

  "An easy observation based on my position," he agreed.

  "The chair I'm sitting in is normally yours, and you hate that I am in it. It is a seat of power. Meant to convey a message of non-questioning authority, although I'm sure my small frame just makes it look like a giant clown chair."

  Kade chuckled at her statement.

  "Currently, you are in a position of power and control, but it isn't one you'd choose or desire. The weight of it is heavy, and you prefer following, carrying out higher orders rather than making them yourself. However, you are fiercely loyal and protective to those in such positions."

  She let her observations linger in the air for a long moment. Kade's stare hardened, and he started to stand.

  "Sit down, Mr. Kinkaid," Jessica commanded in a non-threatening tone. "I'm not here to take your position, power or control. I'm here to help. This is your house, and I am the guest. However, my skill set might serve the situation well."

  "You make an awful lot of presumptions, Detective." Kade's tone was harsh. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

  "The question is—am I wrong, Mr. Kinkaid?"

  His penetrating stare unnerved her. Behind it was raw power. It would be a stupid move not to respect it, but she refused to back down. The thick tension was nearly suffocating. Neither gave up an inch of their well-gained territory. For a long moment, Jessica thought she'd pushed him too far. More than once in her life, she'd been called opinionated, tenacious, and bitchy. None of them were meant as a compliment, but each one made her push harder to prove herself. She would be damned if this hulk of a man would take her knees out from under her. Especially when she genuinely wanted to help.

  There was an odd vulnerability in his eyes. Right behind the fierceness and chest beating. Something about him pulled at her. Maybe if she solved this case, she'd fix it and be able to move on with another one in the bag.

  Neither one of them backed down, and this stalemate needed an end.

  "Well?" she finally asked.

  Jessica watched in amazement when Kade lowered his eyes to the floor in concession. The tautness in his frame did not lax. Each movement was a thought until he once again looked up at her. She refused to move her gaze until he verbally gave in to her.

  "What, pray tell, are your special set of skills?" Kade quipped and leaned back against the loveseat.

  "People," Jessica replied flatly.

  "People aren’t skills, though I would agree they all think they are special."

  She gave him a genuine smile. For the first time, she released the tips of her toes from the floor and let her feet dangle as she shifted in the oversized chair.

  "I read people. Observe the situations. Understand motives. Figure out puzzles. Try to see what makes them tick."

  "So you're a profiler," Kade observed.

  "Not by training. People simply interest me."

  "Do I interest you, Detective?" Kade asked, staring at her pointedly.

  Jessica's heart skipped a beat. Everything about this man interested her. From the first irritated words at their meeting on the porch, she'd tried to figure out why everything about him felt incongruent. Her body refused to ignore the obvious problem in their situation, but she blatantly disregarded it.

  "Everyone interests me, Mr. Kinkaid. Do you think you should draw more or less of my interest?" she volleyed.

  It was her turn to watch him shift uncomfortably. She could just imagine him bound in rope. Those muscles straining against the bright white lines. Controlled strength waiting for her next command. Jessica wanted to shake her head to banish the wayward thoughts but refused to give up the upper hand.

  "You are quite the woman," he finally said, avoiding the question.

  "So I've been told," Jessica replied with a slight nod. "But you didn't answer my question."

  "Are you always this tenacious?"

  "We are just getting to know each other, Mr. Kinkaid. There's nothing tenacious about my actions other than a bit of persistence because of your refusal to answer the simplest of questions."

  Kade chuckled.

  "I'm not all that interesting. My job is to sit in the background and insert my big, dumb body in the way when the situation calls for it."

  "On that one, we will agree to disagree for now."

  He nodded in acquiescence and smiled back at her.

  "How about I go take care of those front porch roaches before the cake eaters stir this town into an unnecessary frenzy? In return, you'll talk to your team, pull together the information, and write up your conclusion. We'll get back together in two days and go over your report and those surveillance tapes. Sound good?"

  "Are you always this demanding?"

  "That wasn't a demand; it was a statement of how this will proceed."

  "I see," Kade replied.

  "Do you?"

  "Yes, Ma'am," Kade said with a nod.

  "Now we're getting somewhere."

  Jessica pushed forward and slid out of the oversized chair. She reached into the inside pocket of her jacket and pulled out a business card.

  "Here's my contact information. If you need anything, don't hesitate to reach out. Once we find the depth of this situation, we'll know how best to proceed. For now, let me go deal with the press, if I can."

  Kade stood, towering over her, and took the card.

  "Let me walk you out."

  "I can find my way, Mr. Kinkaid. Besides, you've got a lot of work to do before I get back here. I have a feeling you’re already behind the eight ball, and you know it."

  She nodded up at him, grabbed the water bottle, and headed for the door.

  Jessica made her way back through the club. Her encounter with Kade had unsettled her in a way few people accomplished. Something about him pulled on her and the way the words "Yes, Ma'am" fell from his lips made her wet. She could just imagine him on his knees in front of her with his face buried in the apex of her legs.

  Get it together! she admonished herself.

  "How'd it go?" The question snapped her out of the wayward thoughts, and she turned
toward her captain's voice.

  "We've come to a mutual understanding," she replied smoothly as she looked up at him.

  "A mutual understanding? You mean you demanded he follow your lead, brow beat him until he complied, and called it a victory?" the captain said with a chuckle.

  "I do not brow beat anyone, Captain. I merely persuade them to see it my way and reward compliance as appropriate."

  "You mean aggressively persuade," he corrected.

  "Are you saying I'm a bitch?" Jessica asked pointedly.

  "There's nothing bitchy about you, Detective, but we both know you'll strong arm anyone to get what you want or need."

  "I learned from the best men in the business," she returned.

  "Yep. It's what makes you so damn good."

  "Careful, you're skirting all the politically correct lines these days."

  "What are you going to do, turn me in to HR?" he quipped.

  "Not on your life. I don't have a problem being part of this organization, and I can hold my own."

  "There's an understatement. I think half the department is intimidated by you."

  Jessica shrugged. "When you're good at what you do, the situations speak for themselves," she said with a smile.

  "Oh, and you've even picked up the cockiness of the men around you."

  "No, I'm not cocky."

  "Sounds like it to me, Detective."

  "No, Captain, I'm arrogant."

  "What's the difference? Cocky, arrogant—same same."

  "I dare to disagree. Cocky just flaunts it around and acts like they know stuff. Arrogance can back it all up—it's also known as confidence in this day and age."

  The captain chuckled and shook his head.

  "Besides, I'm a faster draw than most of the department, and I have a good eye for a headshot. I think they are more afraid of me losing it once a month than anything else."

  "Glad you said it and not me."

  Jessica smiled at him. She liked the easy camaraderie of many of her superiors. She worked her ass off to make them proud of her and accept her like they would any man on the team. At her slight height, she fought harder than anyone else to prove her worth. Every single thing had to be better than everyone else, no matter their advantage.

  "So you seemed chummy with the director of security. What can you tell me about his place?" she asked, letting her hand sweep around the vast foyer.

  "You mean Kade?"

  "Yes," she replied with a raised eyebrow. Jessica knew exactly when the captain was dodging her question.

  "Kade and I go way back. The company that owns this place approached the department when they were searching for a location. They... skirt the edge of propriety and in some case the law, no matter how outdated."

  "So you what? Help them color inside the lines? Keep their 'edgy' activities in the bag? Supply security for them when they run short?" Jessica pushed.

  "Actually, all the above. There are very powerful people who blow off steam in this place."

  "Ah, so money talks."

  "Of course it does. Don't be naïve, Detective."

  "Oh, I wasn't. I just wanted to hear you say it." She smiled. "Do you enjoy your shifts here?"

  "You're stepping into a very personal area," the Captain warned.

  "All right, all right," Jessica said with her hands raised. "I wanted to know what it was like. I've never been in a place like this, and it's rather… intriguing."

  "That's one way to put it," the Captain agreed.

  "Well, since I'll get nothing else from you, I guess I'll just have to press Mr. Kinkaid," she said with a grin.

  "Leave the boy alone. Do your job and don't go nosing in things which don't concern you," he warned.

  "Boy? Did you see him? There's nothing boyish about him. He's huge."

  "Only because you're so—" He paused.

  "What? Slight? Short? Small? Vertically challenged?"

  "Well, yeah."

  "Humph. On that note, I have a bunch of white trucks to clear out of here and provide cover for this place of 'mystery'—or should I refer to it like the media does and call it a 'sex club'? That sounds far more torrid, don't you think?"

  Jessica spun on her heels without waiting for a reply and headed toward the door she'd originally entered.

  Flashbulbs caught her attention from the right, and she worked to keep her face in a neutral expression. In front of her, someone put a small crate behind the podium. She wanted to roll her eyes, but she knew without it, she wouldn't even be seen behind the large array of microphones.

  Jessica stepped up to the microphone and took a deep breath as a hush fell across the crowd.

  "Good afternoon. I am Detective Lawson, on behalf of the Loundon County Sheriff's department. The purpose of the press conference is to address an anonymous tip called into multiple media outlets and our department in the early hours this morning. The anonymous tip alluded to the fact a homicide was committed on the grounds of the Empyrean property in the pre-dawn hours. Based on our current investigation, an extensive search of the ground and lack of evidence, it is the opinion of this department that no immediate felonious crime was committed. If further evidence presents itself, we will follow the necessary leads.

  “I'll open it up to a few questions. Aileen."

  "Detective Lawson, what does the Sheriff’s Office believe is the motivation to his act of vandalism?"

  "There is no current person or motive. Margret?"

  "If there's no crime, whose blood was on the knife?"

  "Our forensics team is doing an analysis of the scene, so I can't speak to it at this time. Jim?"

  "Do you think this is a hate crime based on the type of business which is run on this property?"

  "There is no current evidence which points to a hate crime, but we are not ruling out the possibility at this time. Bob?"

  "Do you think someone is stalking a member or employee?"

  Jessica paused at the question. It seemed completely out of left field. Nothing about the tip or the scene suggested anything to do with stalking, so why would a reporter ask such a pointed question? She collected herself and took a mental note to follow up with Kade at their meeting in two days.

  "There's nothing to suggest anyone is being stalked, hunted, hated, or targeted. At this point, we consider it an act of vandalism."

  The crowd in front of her clamored for more questions, but she was done with this circus.

  "Thank you all very much for your concern. That's all the questions we have time for today."

  In front of her, the crowd surged, but she stepped off the wooden crate and disappeared behind the podium. Sometimes there were advantages to her small stature.

  She pulled out the pad of paper and pen from her inside jacket pocket and scribbled down a single word: Stalked? Beside it she wrote the reporter's name and news organization who'd asked the odd question. As she made her way back toward the front gate, a thousand questions cluttered her mind in an attempt to form threads through the information.

  Something didn't add up, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Like, where was the owner of the club? Was she on vacation or often absent? Based on some of the comments it didn't seem this was normal. And why did Kade feel guilty? What was he hiding? Had there really been a homicide here, and he'd killed the owner and tried to cover it up? Was this about money or power?

  Each question spawned a new one. Some of them made logical sense while others didn't tie into her first impression. Jessica walked back to her car with more questions than answers. With a final look up at the imposing house, she climbed into her unmarked car and headed back to the station.

  Chapter Five

  Kade paced his office. The stress of the day made him want to punch something in his frustration.

  Reece wasn't answering his damn phone. The news organizations were all over the front gate broadcasting on every channel, hoping to produce the next big DC scandal. Alexandra was in hiding because she was being stalked by a
deranged member of the club with more money than the GDP of a small country. A bloody knife had been slammed into the front door of the club with a threatening note. The world was going to hell, and he felt like the conductor of the train.

  If that wasn't all bad enough, the sexy as sin Detective Lawson had strode into his office, took his chair, and acted like she could lift the world. Her slight stature made every protective bone in his body go on high alert. Those eyes, the set of her jaw, and her arrogance threatened to demolish anyone who thought they could take her on. He didn't know if he wanted to grab her and throw her over his knee to teach her a lesson or fall to his own to see if she was really all that and then some. Either way, just the thought of her had his cock throbbing in his jeans.

  Kade slammed a fist on his desk and reached for the phone, punching the screen harder than necessary.

  "Gabriel," the voice on the other end responded after the second ring.

  "It's about fucking time you answered the phone," Kade growled in a release of pent-up stress.

  "I've been busy," Reece responded flatly.

  "Oh, I'm sure it's been so hard being down in that cozy little Caribbean island getting your groove on."

  "Well, someone has a burr up his ass today."

  Kade sighed and ran a hand through his hair. His normal calm, cool, collected demeanor was fraying around the edges.

  "We've had a situation at the club."

  "Is everyone okay? Was it serious?" Reece asked calmly, but the edge in his voice spoke volumes.

  "Everyone's fine. However, there's quite a media storm."

  "The suspense is killing me, spit it out already," Reece deadpanned.

  "A bloody knife was stabbed into the front door of the club. There was a note under it."

  "Do I even want to know what it said?"

  "Yeah. 'If I can't have you, then I will destroy you.'"

  Reece seethed in anger on the other in of the line. "That son of a bitch!"

  "Do you have an account of…"

  A scream punched through the phone. Anger and fear fought for dominance. It was his suggestion that had put them on that small island. It seemed to be the safest option given the circumstances and he was hoping he hadn't just heard his next mistake.