Untied

by Katherine Rhodes

  “No mystery.” He picked up a grape.

  She held up her hand. “Killian, I’m still mad at you. Not as pissed as I was. You also shouldn’t be here. I’m still publicly engaged to Paul, and if it is your reputation…”

  Killian nodded. “I know you’ll be angry with me for a while. But I just couldn’t let this lie the way it was. You were so, so pissed at me. We needed this to happen. No one is going to find out about us. I swear to you. Not until we want them to.” He gave her an incredibly sexy, crooked grin. “You didn’t know I was a Dom. You had no idea I was John Smith. Trust me, mo chroí, I am good at hiding this. You understand. The people at the club understand. Hell, I think even my sister understands. But if my patients ever found out that I like to be tied up and spanked…”

  Cece frowned. “I understand. And even though it’s none of their business, they’d make it theirs. I’m just pissed that you didn’t confide in me.”

  “And I’m sorry I didn’t. That was poor judgment on my part. I trust you as I have never trusted anyone else.” He put a hand on her cheek and turned her to look at him. “Hey. We’re going to beat this, mo chroí. You aren’t guilty. I know that. Paul and Dunham and Stat and Morgan are all just about done proving that. The only guilt here is the person who is framing you for this,” he said. “Now, let me indulge this fantasy and feed my Domme grapes and cheese.”

  She smiled, and he offered the grape to her. She wrapped her lips around the grape, and he pushed it into her mouth. She caught his finger and sucked lightly. Killian pulled it out on a breath. “Dear God, Cece. You do that again, and we’re going to end up right where we started.”

  “That’s a problem how?” She smiled.

  He growled low in his throat.

  “Hold up there, cowboy. We need to talk before that happens. We need to figure out how two very alpha Doms are going to work in one relationship. We have to talk about limits.”

  “Spoil my fun,” he grumped.

  Cece smiled slyly at him. “I didn’t say stop. I’m hungry. But we need to talk.”

  “You’re right,” he agreed and offered her a piece of cracker with some cheese on it. Cece made sure to enjoy it without the edge of seduction she’d put into the grape. “Well, the first thing we’ve already established. Bathroom time is private time.”

  She laughed. “There’s that. And the gag. Never ever a gag. Of any kind.”

  “What happened, mo chroí?”

  “What does that mean, mo chroí??” Cece’s words were quiet.

  “My heart. It’s Gaelic. My whole family speaks it, and both me and my sister plan on teaching any kids we have to speak it as well. We have cousins in Ireland, still.”

  “It’s beautiful,” she said. “I want you to seduce me in Gaelic one day.”

  Killian grunted and smirked. “Any day. So, what happened?”

  “I was kidnapped when I was very little,” she said. “They wanted the money, and I was bound and gagged. They didn’t bind me very hard, but the gag…I could barely breathe. They partially dislocated my jaw with it. It’s a panic button.”

  “Hard limit.” He nodded in understanding and plucked another grape for her. She accepted it, and Killian continued. “I can’t wear a collar. Under any conditions. Panic button.”

  Cece cocked her head, the motion asking her question.

  “I had a mistress very early on before I knew better. She abused the collar privilege. She would choke me and tie me up for hours, and she knew damn well that I wasn’t a pet and humiliation was a hard limit.” He smiled. “It took Darien witnessing that to get me out of it.”

  She turned and threw him an icy glare “Darien?”

  He nodded. “Darien runs Wanderer’s End. He took me out and brought me to his training house where I had the chance to recover.”

  Cece accepted another grape from him. “So, what other hard limits?”

  “They aren’t hard, they are just things I don’t like,” he said. “Latex, tight hoods, CBT. I’ve done all of them, but I just don’t enjoy them.”

  “You liked playing with my ass. Do I have the chance to play with yours?”

  Killian smirked. “Oh yes. You should probably know I’ve been with guys.”

  Cece gasped. “Are you bi?”

  “Hetero flexible.”

  A grin spread on her face. “Me too.” She drooped a moment later. “Killian, I’m in love with you. I want a life with you, but who I am isn’t going to change.”

  “For me neither, Ce. I am who I am. We can make this work. We just need ground rules. Polyamory is part of our lifestyle, and I know others have made it work. We will too because you are my everything.” He brushed her hair from her cheek. “I am so sorry I hurt you.”

  “It’s going to sting for a while.”

  He moved the tray out of the way. “Maybe there’s something I can do to help that.”

  Cece smirked. “Oh? You think so? Are you going for make-up sex?”

  “Mm. Maybe. Maybe I just want to have sex with you again so I can hear you scream my name.”

  Cece lay back and made a come-hither motion with her finger. “Sex. No playtime. No toys, no tying up. Show me what you got.”

  “Ooh, a challenge.” Killian slithered over her body on the bed, stopping to pull her shirt out of his way to find her nipple. He sucked her into his mouth, and Cece let out a pleased little sigh.

  The bang on the door caused both of them to jerk in shock on the bed. Cece knew her eyes were wide with fear. “Oh, God, no. Not Garabaldi again…”

  “That’s not a police knock. That was a slam.” Killian moved off the bed, and Cece righted her clothes and followed him out of the bedroom. He grabbed the bat in the corner and motioned her to stay back as there was another slam on the door, this one weaker.

  “Who’s there?” Cece yelled.

  The answer was barely audible through the door. “Ce. Let me…”

  “Hannah!” Cece charged the door, but Killian had already pulled it open, and she got there just in time to catch her sister before she hit the ground. “Holy shit, Hannah.”

  Her sister was gaunt, bruised, and filthy. Her breath was ragged and sawed through her chest. Weakly, she lifted a hand and pointed at the bushes. “Jeans.”

  “What? I don’t under—”

  “Jeans.” The rough tone of her voice was louder, and she insistently pointed out the door.

  Cece tossed a look at Killian, but he was already on the phone with 911. She turned back to the front of the house where Hannah hadn’t stopped pointing. “Je…jee…”

  There, in the bushes, were Everett’s eyes looking back at her. “Imogene!”

  “Yes,” Hannah said.

  Killian rushed out the door with the phone on his ear and found the little girl lying out of sight, with what looked to be a badly broken leg and tears streaming down her face.

  “Oh, God, Hannah,” Cece whimpered. “What happened to you?”

  “Kidnapped. I…” Before she could say another word, she passed out in Cece’s arms.

  Cece searched for Killian and found him putting Imogene on the couch, still on the phone with 911.

  The sounds of sirens filled the night.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Killian leaned against the doorframe, watching Cece sleep head down on the bed next to her sister. She looked uncomfortable, but he didn’t have the heart to wake her up.

  “The scrubs really do suit you.” Paul leaned next to him. “You look comfortable in them.”

  He glanced over. “And you don’t wear scrubs?”

  “I wear hazmat clothes. I never know what’s happening. The scrubs are far more elegant than my hazmat and face shield with the bone saw.”

  “Don’t think I won’t challenge you to a bone saw contest.”

  “Yeah. You’ll come out with an elegant swan, and I’ll have a...a bone cut in half.” Paul lifted his chin in Cece’s direction. “How’s Hannah?”

  “Sick. Very, very sick. We made the
decision to induce a coma while she recovers. Malnourished, her myasthenia gravis is in full swing. She was beaten, bruised, and has two broken ribs. We have IV antibiotics, a heavy feeding regimen, and she’s intubated because we didn’t want to take the chance that she was going to go into any kind of arrest. At least two weeks, if we’re optimistic.”

  “And Cece?”

  “Wreck, but glad Hannah is back.”

  “The little one?”

  Killian bristled. “When I find the person who did what they did to that little girl, I will carve them apart with the scalpel and skin them alive. We have her sedated so she can recover.”

  Paul nodded. “That bad? I’ll get my inelegant bone saw and help you. No one hurts children in my watch.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Garabaldi told me there were some heroics reported.”

  Killian tossed a glance at him. “I’m a surgeon. I’m a doctor. I’m trained to do this shit. There were no heroics; there was just the standard operating procedure. The girl’s leg was broken in two places on the same bone, and she was conscious. When the medics walked in, I declared myself, and we went right to work.”

  “You weren’t supposed to be there.”

  “Nope. I know. And I also frankly don’t give a shit if I was or wasn’t. Hannah and Imogene needed the immediate care I was able to provide with the medics. Imogene will be able to walk, and I’m damn glad I could do that.”

  Clapping him on the shoulder, Paul nodded. “She’s yours, man. She doesn’t want anything or anyone else. Let’s just get her cleared and this maniac off the streets. We’ll call off the engagement as soon as she can stand on her own two feet against this hurricane.”

  “You like her too, Paul.”

  “Yeah, I do. I’ve grown rather fond of her. But I got my own. And we’ll be getting engaged shortly after we call this off.” He glanced at her again. “I’m going to check on her like a good fiancé. Do we have any word on her family?”

  “Oh, boy. Yeah. I hid Cece. I sent her to check on Imogene while they paid their respects.” There was a hint of humor in his voice. “I made sure they had no reason to see her or talk to her. Or even know she was in the same building.”

  “Who knows what they would have done. So, how broken up is Chas over his girlfriend?”

  “Charles Robbe and his mother make me want to remove my skin and scrub with lye.” Killian quirked up an eyebrow. “To answer the question, he was exactly as requisitely sad as you would expect someone to be about the death of their girlfriend. No more, no less.”

  “Creepy motherfucker.” Paul agreed with him.

  “Marjorie is way too attached to her oldest and youngest to dislike her middle child as much as she does.” Killian tossed a look at Cece. “The only person who has normal emotions is her.”

  “I’m going to wake her up and take her home. She needs sleep.”

  “Thanks, Paul.”

  Killian watched as he carefully woke Cece and quickly explained she was going home. She tried to protest, but he squashed that swiftly. He helped her out of the chair and off the bed and led her to the doorway.

  “Killian,” she began.

  He shook his head. “You’ve been up for almost forty hours. It’s time to go home. I’m here, don’t sweat it. I’ll take care of her and Imogene. They will be fine. Go. Take care of you.”

  Paul nodded and led her down the hall. Killian watched them retreat and finally disappear around a corner. He sighed and pulled the chart off the bottom of the bed.

  Hannah was a mess. The letters had lied about her being cared for under the kidnapper. He wanted to know who it was, but Imogene was too young to tell them really, and Hannah was going to be unconscious for a while.

  He was grateful the city had sent paramedics with a full truck of equipment. He figured that without it, Hannah would have died there or en route to the hospital. They had worked with him to make sure that she got the care she needed. And he made sure that their supervisors knew about their excellent skills and help.

  Killian stopped himself. While the paramedics had poked fun at him, actually calling him Doc Dominant, not once did they question him, mock him, or not follow a directive. It had been the same with the staff. They had known when to shut down the jokes and the laughs. He had never once had to repeat a request or a directive.

  Now, he really felt like an ass. All that worry he’d put Cece through, the humiliation, for nothing. He was still Doctor McInnis when it came to the operating room and his patients.

  Damn.

  He owed her so much of an apology. He owed her so much more than an apology.

  He smirked. And the sex would be amazing too. He couldn’t wait until all this shit was done and over with, so he could kiss her in public and fuck her in private whenever they wanted. He was going to owe Paul big time for calling it off.

  Garabaldi appeared in the door and walked in without being invited. He stood over the injured and bruised body of Hannah and shook his head. “Damn, I wish she could talk.”

  “She will,” Killian said. “Just not yet. She needs time to heal and time for the drugs to take hold again.”

  “I don’t know who this sadistic fucker is, but we have to find them and shut them down.” Garabaldi turned to face Killian. “You were with Cece tonight?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Alibi established. I would suggest that you or Paul make sure you’re with her at all times. The Oetlers are getting pushy and trying to get the DA to file charges. Even though she’s so clearly not the murderer.”

  “The Oetlers can go to hell.”

  “Well. As much as I would like to tell them that, it’s not going to happen.”

  Killian shook his head and closed Hannah’s chart. “Are we…you anywhere near figuring out who’s killing these people? Is it the same person all the way down from my father to Saundra?”

  Garabaldi cleared his throat. “From what I’ve seen, yes. It’s a perfect arc of an evolving serial killer. I’m not a forensic psychologist, but I play one in the department for some reason. Probably because I do shit like study. Anyway. From what I’ve read over the years, a serial killer will refine their style. They go from a bull in a china shop to an almost perverse ballet of murder. Your father was at the beginning of this, and Saundra at the other end. The killer has learned. And the more they learn, the more likely we will have to call in the FBI to help us.” The detective leaned against the wall. “I want this bastard caught. Diane’s letters were insightful and gave us more to work with, but I honestly suspect this killer is a stone cold sociopath, and there is a lot that’s fucked up in the head.”

  “More than just shoving a gun up my father’s ass? More than bleeding Everett to death?”

  Garabaldi gave him a twisted look. “Yes. Much more.”

  * * *

  Cece shook her hair out of the helmet and smirked at Killian. “I had no idea you rode.”

  “I’m good at keeping secrets if you haven’t noticed.” His grin was genuine.

  “That has been noted.” Cece strapped the helmet to the bike as Killian grabbed the pack he had tied down on the back. “Where are we?”

  “Little quiet spot I like.” He took her hand. “Don’t worry. We’re well with the boundaries of the bail limitations. I’m not letting that happen again.” He tossed a nod back up the road. “If we had gone straight on the entrance road, we would have come to Wanderer’s End. It’s the house where I was trained.”

  “Submissive?”

  “And eventually Dom too. Darien and I are good friends. He runs the house. Originally, before he took over, there was a bet whether the old master was going to pick him or Franz to run it.”

  “I had no idea it was out here.”

  “Again, secrets.”

  “And we do have to keep those, don’t we?”

  Killian led her along the path, through the warm mid-spring air and the trees burgeoning with life, exploding in a riot of color and trimmed in green. “Ar
e you very upset that you’re being singled out and flashed around like cheap carnival toy?”

  “I am when you put it that way.” Cece stuck her tongue out at him. “I am upset, yes. But mostly because this was a private part of my life away from all the bullshit. It’s hard when you’re told that your way of life is a sin—because you enjoy sex. It’s who I am. It’s kept me in control of me. Instead of going out and getting laid, I make much more of a single, possibly non-sexual encounter.”

  Killian squeezed her hand. “I am sorry everyone had to find out. It was a little dream of mine to live our lives quietly. Like Emmy and Nathaniel.”

  Cece shrugged. “It is what it is at this point. If I get to keep you, I’m okay with people speculating on who’s tying up whom that night.”

  Cece watched the ground glide by as her feet crunched over the trail they were on. The silence that floated between them was comfortable, but there were a dozen things swarming in her mind. Killian anticipated at least one of her questions.

  “Hannah is going to be fine, Ce. I checked her before we left. She’s been improving by leaps and bounds these past five days. You have to remember that saying someone is in critical condition doesn’t mean they are going to get worse or die. It’s a level of necessary care. Your sister has a disease and she came in very, very sick. Once her medicine was back in her system, her body responded well and quickly. Because of the nature of her illness, she needed that level of care. Let her lungs heal by letting the machine do the breathing. That’s all. She’s stronger than you think.”

  “That girl has a joie de vivre I can’t match.”

  “Of course you can! You do it every day. You love your job, your books. You have no idea how much you smile when you’re at the library. It’s amazing to see someone who is doing something they love.” Killian squeezed her hand. “And you also love your ropes. The intense feeling you were emanating when you would bind me was entrancing. I couldn’t help get hypnotized by your sense and movements. Two things you love give you that same sense of amazing.”

  Cece couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “Okay. How long have you really been after me, Doctor?”