TWENTY-SEVEN
two weeks later
“You’re giving her space?” Jace asked, plunking the
stack of erotic books he’d been organizing for a display on the table next to him.
“Why the fuck did you agree to that?”
Wyatt absently flipped through one of the novels Jace had put out, not seeing the
words. He couldn’t seem to focus on anything these days. “Because I know how it feels
to be on the other end of that request. Mia tried to guilt me into staying with her
when I needed out. I refuse to put that pressure on someone else. Maybe we’re not
ready for each other.”
“Dude, she’s scared.”
Wyatt gave him a thank-you-Captain-Obvious glare. “Don’t you think I fucking know
that? Hell, I’m terrified, too. I don’t know how to have a relationship. Have you
seen my track record?”
Jace smirked. “A string of women who probably couldn’t name one personal thing about
you except the size of your dick and bank account?”
Wyatt shrugged. “Well, can’t blame them there, both are pretty memorable.”
Jace’s jaw fell in mock amazement. “What? The genius makes a joke? Grab your canned
goods, world, the apocalypse is imminent.”
Wyatt threw the book at him, and Jace ducked, letting the thing crash into a shelf
of lubricants behind him. Jace looked over his shoulder, laughing. “Clean up, aisle
three!”
“I’m being serious,” Wyatt said, smiling despite his statement. It felt good to joke
around with his little brother, to not have that tension between them anymore. For
the first time in his life, Wyatt felt like he had someone he could truly confide
in, someone who had his back. “The only real relationship I was ever in ended up with
the girl I cared about killing herself
because of
me
.”
Jace sighed. “Not because of you, bro. People break up every day. More goes into that
decision to take your own life than losing your boyfriend. Mia needed help—help a
twenty-one-year-old kid wasn’t capable of giving. We all have moments we wish we could
go back and handle differently. God, I still don’t know how Evan ever gave me another
chance after the stupid ass decisions I made when we were teenagers. Talk about ruining
someone’s life.”
Wyatt looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head. “Even if I can convince Kelsey to
give things a chance, I can’t give her any guarantees beyond I love her and want it
to work.”
“Fuck, that’s all any of us can do. Promise to try and be willing to make sacrifices.
Are you willing to do that?”
“Of course.”
Jace eyed him. “Even if that means working less hours and putting something besides
work first for a change?”
Wyatt huffed a bitter laugh and walked over to the front counter, sitting on it. “That
won’t be a problem. I quit.”
“Sure you did. I really would be stocking up on canned goods if that were true.” He
squatted down to pick up the bottles of lube that had rolled to the floor.
“Then grab some corn and peas, brother, because I told Dad to go fuck himself.”
Jace stood, his green eyes wide, his task forgotten. “You’re shitting me.”
Wyatt rubbed the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses, exhausted all of a sudden.
“I found out some things on the trip and confronted Dad. Turns out he’s been quietly
laundering money for some of his bigger clients for years. He would doctor the reports
before they got to me because he knew I’d pick up on it.”
“Holy fuck.”
“I didn’t want to believe it. But not only did he not deny it, he wanted me to take
on Andrew Carmichael as a client and do the same for him. Like I’d put my neck on
the fucking line and risk prison for that prick.”
“Christ. So you just quit? After all the time you’ve put in there?”
Wyatt released a breath. He thought he’d feel empty walking away from that building,
grieve the years he’d put in only to give it all up. But all he’d felt when he stepped
out into the sunshine in the middle of a Monday afternoon was . . . freedom. And possibility.
The only sadness that had punctured him had been when he’d walked past the Sugarcane
Cafe and didn’t see his pretty blonde waitress inside.
“I’m making Dad buy out my portion of the company and clean up his shit. A few of
my clients will come with me, and I’ll continue to advise them. But I’m going to put
most of my focus on the venture capitalist thing instead.”
“Wow,” Jace said, leaning against the shelf, looking genuinely awed. “So now you have
all the time in the world.”
“I don’t even want to admit how many movies I’ve watched in the last two weeks.” Romantic
ones to torture himself. Depressing ones to wallow. And blow-’em-up ones to forget
all the others.
Fucking pathetic.
Jace crossed his arms over his chest, compassion overtaking his normally cocky expression.
“Don’t give up on her, man. Go get her.”
Wyatt groaned. “She doesn’t want to be gotten.”
“Bullshit. How many of those movies lining your shelves have you watched where the
guy lets the girl he loves walk away? I saw Kelsey at The Ranch this weekend. She
looks miserable, dude. This is the time for grand gestures and fucking boom boxes
held over your head outside her window.”
Wyatt crossed his arms and gave Jace a come-on-now look.
“What? I love the shit out of that movie. Hated that song he played though.”
“Didn’t you let Evan leave last year?”
He scowled. “I didn’t have a choice at the time. But as soon as she was back in town,
you can bet your ass I went full out.”
“And what, pray tell, was your grand gesture?”
Jace shrugged, his eyes sparkling with the apparent memory. “It may or may not have
involved illegal use of a cop uniform and breaking a few laws. But it doesn’t matter
what mine was because you need to figure out what’s right for Kelsey. Show her what
you can give her that no one else can.”
Wyatt scrubbed his hands over his face, wondering if the end of the world really was
near because his little brother was starting to make sense. But the thought of Kelsey
sad, even for a moment, had his lungs squeezing tight and the wheels of invention
turning in his head. He peered over at Jace and hopped off the counter. “Cancel any
plans you have this weekend. I’m going to need your help.”
Jace’s grin went wide.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Kelsey set her phone down in the grass, staring at the
screen, still not sure she’d heard correctly. The detective who had helped her with
the Miller brothers had just called to tell her that Howie Miller wouldn’t bother
her anymore. The entire D-Town operation had been exposed over the weekend, including
players from the bottom rungs all the way to the top dog—a guy with known ties to
a drug trafficking ring in Houston. Apparently, an anonymous citizen had hired top-notch
private investigators to track Howie’s steps for the last few weeks and had gotten
one of the players to turn against the group and give up vital information. None of
the gang would be getting out of prison for a very long time.
She couldn’t even process that good news. She was safe.
Safe
. She wouldn’t have to leave.
A shadow crossed over the patch of grass she’d been sightlessly staring at, and cowboy
boots appeared in her peripheral vision. Kelsey tilted her head up to find Grant eclipsing
the sun. He lowered himself, sitting back on his haunches and tilting his hat upward.
“They called you.”
She blinked, the statement stunning her. “
You
did this?”
His mouth lifted at the corner. “Nah, I wish I could take credit for the idea, but
I just helped someone get in touch with a few old military buddies of mine. I knew
they’d come through, though.”
Someone. “Wyatt.”
“He set it up before you left for the trip. He wanted you to be able to come home
without worries.”
She shook her head, the hollow ache that had been a constant presence since she’d
gotten back from the trip seemed to yawn even wider. “I don’t even know what to do
with that.”
Grant gave her knee a squeeze. “You do what you want, darlin’. You can go back to
your life. Get your old job back, go to school.”
She certainly could, though she wouldn’t need the job for the money. She had a two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar
check in her cabin. Wyatt apparently wasn’t so great at math because he’d added an
extra zero. She couldn’t bring herself to cash it though.
She forced a smile for Grant, knowing that was the appropriate response to the situation.
But all the things she’d been so happy with only a few weeks ago, the existence she’d
been so desperate to hold on to, now seemed painted in colorless strokes in her mind—a
faded version of her happy ending. “Thanks, Grant. Really. I can’t even tell you how
much it means that you helped.”
“Anytime, darlin’.” He put a hand out to her and pulled her to her feet as he rose.
“But that’s not why I came out here to talk to you.”
“Oh?”
He cocked his head toward the main house at The Ranch. “I know you stopped taking
clients, but there’s a certain college football player in there who says he really
needs to see you. What do you want me to tell him?”
She frowned. “Hawk’s here?”
“Yeah, apparently he took it upon himself to drive out here when the receptionist
told him you weren’t taking appointments.”
She stuck her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, staring up at the house. If
Hawk had gone through all that trouble, something must be wrong. No way could she
walk away from that guy if he needed her. “I’ll go see him.”
Grant smiled. “Kid got to you, huh?”
She sighed, a sound she found herself making a lot lately. “He’s a good guy with a
good heart. I just wish I could take away all that shame he carries around with him,
make his life a little easier.”
Grant laid his arm over her shoulder and guided her toward the house. “You know, darlin’,
I think I was wrong. Caring that much about your sub, wanting to take away his pain
through pain . . . you do have a true domme’s will in you.”
She leaned into his shoulder, the big brother vibe from Grant unfamiliar but welcome.
“Too bad I have a submissive heart.”
He opened the door for her with a sympathetic smile. “That’s not a bad thing, Kelsey.
It’s a beautiful gift. You just have to make sure you put it in the right hands.”
She looked away, unable to let her mind go there. “What room is he in?”
“Dungeon B. And be warned, he didn’t come alone.”
“What do you mean?”
“You should probably see for yourself.”
Uh-oh
. Kelsey made her way up to the second floor, not even bothering to stop by the locker
room to change and grab her gear. She usually never let her clients see her in street
clothes, but the way Hawk had come here unannounced and with a guest needed to be
discussed first. It wasn’t like him to push the rules like that. But when she looked
through the viewing window of Dungeon B, she forgot all about discussing the rules.
Hawk sat on one of the benches aligned along the far wall, his head bowed. Next to
him was a pretty dark-eyed girl with hair down to her waist. She was gripping Hawk’s
hand so hard her knuckles were pale, but her expression was pure determination.
Oh, shit.
This can’t be good.
Kelsey turned the knob and walked in, drawing their attention her way. Some combination
of relief and desperation crossed Hawk’s face, but the girl’s hard expression fell
instantly. Her lips pressed together as if she were fighting tears. She turned to
Hawk with a choked whisper. “You could’ve told me she was so pretty.
Goddammit
, Hawk.”
“Baby,” he said, shaking his head miserably. “It’s not about that.”
Kelsey took a deep breath. “Hawk, would you like to tell me what’s going on?”
He raked a hand through his already messy hair and stood. “I’m sorry”—he swallowed
hard and glanced back at his girl—“Mistress.”
The girl winced like she’d been slapped.
“I know I shouldn’t have come like this, but Christina, she—”
“I demanded he show me.” Christina rose and brushed invisible lint off her khaki skirt
before looking up, as if biding time and building courage to speak more. “He tried
to break up with me, and I wanted to know why.”
“Oh, Hawk,” Kelsey said softly.
“He loves me. I know he does and he wanted to just . . . end it.” Christina’s voice
caught on the last two words.
Hawk shook his head, his eyes bloodshot. “I wasn’t going to tell her, but she deserved
to know why. I’m not good for her. I’m fucked up.”
Kelsey didn’t think, but instead reacted. Her hand came up and smacked Hawk right
across the face, the sound reverberating in the small space. “
Do not
call yourself that.”
Christina gasped and Hawk blinked, his pupils going big, his submissiveness kicking
in whether he wanted it to or not. Face slapping was one of his kink buttons. “I’m
so sorry, Mistress.”
Christina stalked over, grabbing Hawk’s arm, and shooting Kelsey the coldest, most
hateful look she’d ever seen on such a sweet-looking girl. “You crazy bitch! You
hit
him! I’m—”
Christina lunged forward like she was going to return the favor, but Hawk held her
back. “Baby, don’t . . . This . . . That’s what this is. I—I need to be hurt sometimes.”
“The hell you do!”
He pressed his lips to Christina’s hair as he held her, the anguish on his face breaking
Kelsey’s heart into little fragments. “That’s why I need to let you go, Chris. I’m . . .”
Kelsey watched him as he searched for a word that wouldn’t get another correction.
“I’m different. I crave this, and that’s not going to go away. You deserve better.”
The words hit Kelsey with the force of a kick to the sternum. She’d said the same
thing to Wyatt just a few weeks ago. Had given the same “I’m fucked up” speech that
had earned Hawk a slap. She was such a goddamned hypocrite.
Christina pulled back from Hawk, her dark eyes going shiny. “I
have
better. I have you. And I’m not going to give that up just because you’re . . . whatever
this is.”
“Baby,” Hawk pleaded.
But Christina was already turning toward Kelsey, her shoulders squaring and chin lifting,
shaky bravado but impressive nonetheless. “Let her show me.”
“What?” Hawk asked, looking horrified.
Christina put her hands on her hips and faced Hawk. She looked so damn prim—a proper
Southern sorority girl—but Kelsey recognized steel will when she saw it. “You want
to crawl on your knees for a woman, want to be beaten on, called names? Then you damn
well better be doing it for me and not some blonde with bigger boobs than mine.”
Hawk’s eyes went wide. “What?”
Christina looked to Kelsey, ignoring Hawk’s question. “Can you teach me? Show me how
to give him what he needs?”
Kelsey raised her eyebrows, a little stunned, but a lot impressed by this girl. “That’s
up to Hawk.”
“Chris, you don’t know what this is, how . . . ugly and brutal it can seem,” Hawk
said, but there was a note of hope in his voice.
“Shut up.” Christina stepped in front of Hawk and put her hands on his shoulders,
pushing onto her tiptoes to reach, and exerted pressure. Without hesitation he went
down to his knees before her. This big brute of a guy falling to a little slip of
a girl. Kelsey didn’t think she’d ever seen anything so beautiful. Christina touched
Hawk’s stubbled cheek. “I love you, you jerk. No part of you will ever be ugly to
me. I don’t care if I don’t know much about this. I’m willing to learn. I’m tougher
than you think.”
Hawk, who had never cried in Kelsey’s sessions, no matter how much pain she dished
out, teared up. Salty warmth touched Kelsey’s cheek, too. The willingness of this
girl to simply accept Hawk, regardless of the complications involved, was humbling.
Christina loved him.
And Kelsey realized, as she stood there watching, that this was what love looked like.
Not a picture perfect “normal.” Not neat corners and the absence of baggage. But acceptance
of it all and a willingness to face it all together. To embrace the ugly.
Kelsey leaned back against the wall, the weight of that realization making her want
to slide to the floor.
“I love you, too,” Hawk said, pressing his cheek to Christina’s chest. “Baby, I love
you so much. Thank you.”
Christina stroked his hair and smiled down at him. “If I’m being honest, the idea
of you tied up and following my directions is past the level of super hot.”
“Really?” he asked, his voice full of wonder.
Christina gripped his hair with surprising strength and yanked his head upward so
he could see her face. “But I swear to God, if you keep going to some other woman
for what you need, I’m going to string you up by your balls and beat the shit out
of you.”
“God, Chris.” Hawk’s eyes glazed over a bit at that, and Kelsey had to hold back a
chuckle. The girl had no idea how much she was turning her boyfriend on right now.
Hawk looked toward Kelsey. “Would you be willing to train her, Mistress? I know you’re
not taking clients any—”
“I’m not taking paying clients anymore,” Kelsey said, pushing off the wall and smiling.
“But this I’ll do for free.” She looked to Christina. “As long as your new mistress
here is willing to share the room with me for a little while.”
Christina backed away from Hawk and eyed Kelsey. “You never slept with him?”
“He wouldn’t have done that to you, hon. He told me every session how in love with
you he was.” Kelsey put her hand to her throat, rubbing the spot where Wyatt had collared
her in his tender grip. “And I’m in love with someone else.”
Hawk’s gaze flitted her way, and he gave her the biggest, broadest smile she’d ever
seen him wear.
Christina held out her hand to Kelsey. “Then we’ve got a deal. Make me a badass bitch.”
Kelsey laughed and shook her hand. “Oh, Hawk, you’re in trouble.”
He leaned forward and grabbed Christina by the waist, dragging her down to him. “No,
I’m in heaven.”
Kelsey smiled for the two of them, keeping her own melancholy off her face. She was
glad Hawk was in heaven.
Maybe it was time for her to step out of her own hell.