Sanctum (8 page)

Her insurance didn’t kick in for another couple of weeks. The last thing she needed was another round of medical bills.

“I’ll take care of it.” It was the only thing he could do now.

* * * *

“Are you, like, alive and shit?”

Jill opened the door to the largest man she’d ever seen, and his bulk had nothing to with fat. Ian Taggart was all muscle. What the hell was the big boss doing here? “Unless you know something I don’t, I’m still kicking.”

And almost ready to come back to work. Was this something about work? She’d been out of the hospital for over a month, and she was looking forward to going back to work. Was he about to tell her she didn’t have a job waiting for her? How the hell would she pay back Ryan?

She stepped back and allowed Taggart to come in. He overwhelmed the small but nicely appointed apartment she’d found herself in once she’d gotten out of the hospital. It was two bedrooms and in a nice part of town. Since she’d been living here, there hadn’t been a single murder-suicide or random shooting in the whole building.

And Ryan hadn’t come to visit her after the first day either. That was probably her fault since she’d told him to go away. She still wasn’t sure what she was doing. All she knew was she would return to work in three days, and she had to figure out what she wanted to say to him.

But first she had to deal with the big guy. He looked out of place in her very feminine apartment, like a lion that had wandered into a drawing room and needed to figure out just how many tea-drinking ladies he was going to eat. “How can I help you, Mr. Taggart?”

He dropped his big body onto her dainty white leather couch. It had come with the apartment, or so her sister had told her. “You can fuck my Dom in Residence.”

“What?” Jill sort of sputtered the question.

“Sorry,” Taggart said, not sounding sorry at all. “My friends tell me I don’t deal well with social situations. Supposedly I’m too blunt, but I find that just stating the problem helps get to the heart of it. So, are you going to fuck my Dom in Residence or not?”

She felt her whole face go up in flames as she took the seat opposite him. “Uhm, I’m sorry, but that is none of your business.”

“Oh, I just wish it was. You see, I don’t like getting involved in this crap. I don’t have a relationship. Why do I have to get involved in other people’s relationships? But you guys always find a way to drag me in.”

She was deeply confused. She’d really only talked to Taggart on a couple of occasions and it was usually to get him a drink. “We guys?”

“Yeah, my friends. Ryan has become someone I like. See, this is why I don’t like many people. People are fucking maintenance. I don’t need more maintenance. I need peace and quiet and routine. Routine is good, but you’re currently fucking up my routine because Ryan is planning on leaving Sanctum tomorrow so I have to find another Dom in Residence. Do you know how hard that is?”

“No.” He couldn’t leave. She knew she was utterly perverse, but the thought of not seeing him again made her ache. “No.”

“You don’t know how hard it is because you’ve never tried to hire one. Once I weed out the freaks, and there are a fuckload of freaks, let me tell you, I have to start in with the interviews. Have you seen the geriatric guy with knives on FetLife? Yeah. He applied the last time I was looking. I get a bunch of idiots who call themselves Master Blaze and Master Storm. The last guy peed himself when he had a gun put in his face. If you’re going to call yourself Storm, at least hold on to your fucking bladder.”

“Why is Ryan leaving?” It was a stupid question. She knew why Ryan was leaving. She’d pushed him away. She’d done so just as surely as he’d pushed her away. She’d been aching and scared when she’d woken up, and all she’d wanted in the whole world was to have his arms around her. She’d opened her eyes and seen him standing there, waiting to comfort her.

And she’d told him to leave because she couldn’t trust him.

Taggart’s blue eyes rolled. “He told me it would be easier on you if he left before you came back. I asked him why. He told me it was none of my fucking business, which seems to be a theme with the two of you, and he handed me his resignation. It didn’t take me long to figure out the whole sordid mess. Let me see if I can simplify this. You signed a contract with him. When he could no longer fulfill his side of the contract, he made arrangements for you to get what you needed.”

He was oversimplifying things. She wasn’t the bad guy. “Uhm, he pawned me off on his friend.”

He leaned slightly forward, and suddenly Jill felt like there should be a light shining down into her face. This was a little like an interrogation. “Did he tell you you were supposed to have sex with the new Dom?”

“No.” He’d been very specific about that. Keith was simply supposed to take care of her. When they’d been in the car, Keith had explained that he would make sure she was happy and taken care of until such time that she no longer needed or wanted to be taken care of. He’d mentioned offering to send her to college or training, but she was welcome under his roof while she was doing it.

“So he tried to take care of you. Doms can be dumbasses. See, they sign this contract and they take it pretty seriously.”

She was sick of hearing about that contract. She’d signed it because he seemed to need it. “I took the contract seriously.”

“Did you tell him what you needed?” Taggart asked. “Because I got a copy of your contract, and that was rule number one. ‘The submissive will always communicate with the Dominant. In all areas of life, the submissive will let the Dominant know what she needs in order to be happy and fulfilled.’ So did you throw a hissy fit when he passed you on to a man who could take care of you when he couldn’t? Because I have found that hissy fit throwing actually works more often than you would think.”

She’d never realized just what an arrogant ass the big boss was. “He treated me like a piece of property.”

“So he ignored the hissy fit? Wow. I actually would have pegged him as a Dom who would bow to the fit. Huh, that makes me like him even more. Even Sean bows to the hissy. You should have seen how fast he gave in when Grace started yelling about his poker night versus her baby shower. Dudes aren’t supposed to have to go to baby showers. Sean’s job was done. She was pregnant, but now Sean had to show up and unwrap shit and we all had to be there because Sean doesn’t like listening to his wife scream. Pussy.”

“I didn’t throw a hissy fit. Damn it.”

A single eyebrow arched.

“You’re cussing like a sailor,” she pointed out. He still stared until she added a, “Sir.”

“Fine. Cuss away, little sub. Rail at the machine. It won’t get you what you want. You didn’t tell him you wanted to stay. I know you’re going to say you were hurt and shit, but that’s the heart of this little problem. He was stubborn, but that came from a place of caring. He wanted to do what was best for you. He didn’t feel like he was the same Dom you had signed a contract with.”

“I didn’t care about the money. If anything, it was a hindrance. He spent so much time working that we didn’t have time together.”

“Did you tell him that? Did you tell him you needed more time together?”

No. She hadn’t. Because she’d been afraid if she wasn’t easy to get along with, that he would leave her. And if he’d left her because he was ashamed and scared, then she’d pushed him away for the same reasons. And for a worse one.

Because she’d wanted him to know how it felt.

That knowledge had been burning in her gut for weeks. She was living in a place supplied by him. Her sister was singing his praises and she knew damn well that Ashley was talking to him, giving him updates on how she was doing. And Jill was stuck because she’d put herself in a corner and didn’t know how to get out.

She shook her head. “No. I didn’t. And when he gave me away, I didn’t argue with him. I stayed very calm because I didn’t want him to know how badly he’d hurt me.”

“Did you ever tell him you loved him? Sorry, I just vomited a little in my mouth. I hate having to do this shit.”

She ignored his sarcasm. “No. I never told him. It wasn’t in our contract.”

“Then you should write another contract because he’s got it bad. Just between you and me, Ryan turned down an offer to head a new business.”

She’d heard something about him trying a new start-up. He’d turned them down? “He told you that?”

“No. He’s surprisingly tight lipped. Another reason I like him. I just happen to be damn good at gathering intelligence. He turned it down in exchange for a fraction of what the idea will someday be worth. Do you want to know what he spent that fraction on?”

She was afraid she already knew. The bills had stopped coming. At first she thought it was because of the move, but Ashley seemed so calm and happy. She was talking about going to college. She wasn’t worried all the time. “He paid off my sister’s medical bills.”

“Bingo. See, you’re a smart girl after all. So to sum all of this up, you lost a year and a half you could have spent with your Dom because you were too stubborn to tell him you loved him. You got your ass shot because you were too stubborn to ask for help. You’re going to lose your Dom because, hmmm, wow, there’s that stubborn thing again.”

“I get your point.”

He softened slightly, leaning forward. “There’s a reason men like Ryan and I become Doms. The world seems easier to deal with when it’s black and white. We’re not good at dealing with shades of gray, so we sign contracts that spell out everything we need and everything we’re supposed to do. It makes us feel safe because it doesn’t allow a lot of room to fuck up. And we still manage to fuck up. That’s where the sub comes in. What’s the first job of the submissive?”

“To obey the Dom.”

“You’re right, at least to my thinking. Not according to Jake and Adam’s wife, though. Those books of hers. Yuck. She seems to think a sub’s first job is to save her Dom because if the sub doesn’t, he’ll end up tied up in contracts and a world without a lick of color in it. It’s all bullshit, but that’s what she says.”

A single moment rushed through her memory.

Ryan walking off the airplane with a bundle of flowers in his hand. How hard had it been to keep them from being crushed? He’d likely had to hold them the whole flight
.
“They reminded me of your hair. All golds and browns and reds. I couldn’t stop myself.”

He hadn’t trusted her to stand beside him, but then, she’d never promised him she would. She’d been so scared of looking like a fool, but love was more important than pride. More important than being right. More important than anything.

“I can’t let him go.”

Taggart’s head fell back, and he sighed in relief. “Thank God. Does that mean you’ll fuck him?”

“You’re kind of the worst fairy godmother ever, you know.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Do you intend to fuck him?”

He was obnoxious. “Yes.”

Taggart got up and stretched as though this whole exercise had been tiring. “Then I would say I’m pretty fucking good. But the next time I have to play fairy godmother, I’m shoving a wand up someone’s ass.” He smiled, a wolfish leer. “The good news is, I really like shoving things up a pretty sub’s ass. And after everything you’ve put him through, expect something up yours. That dude hasn’t had sex since you broke up. He’s probably going to be an animal.”

Her whole body lit with excitement because she knew one thing. He was her animal, and it was long past time to claim him.

Ryan looked around the dungeon, his heart heavy. It was so odd. He’d taken the job because he’d had to and now he was deeply sad that it was time to leave. He felt like he’d walked into the place kicking and screaming and he was leaving the same way.

He glanced back at the bar. He wouldn’t see her working there anymore. He wouldn’t glance over and see her standing there again.

At least he had a decent relationship with Ashley. She’d kept him up to date on Jillian’s progress. She was doing well and would be back at work on Friday. He would be looking for another job. He had a decent amount of money, but he knew damn well it wouldn’t last forever, and now he was planning on paying for Ashley’s school.

It was the only thing that made him feel good. He could help Jillian’s sister. It was a connection.

The lights were low on the stage. It was only left that way when someone was about to perform a serious scene. He hadn’t been given notice that a member was performing this evening. Alex and Eve performed scenes often, as did Liam and Avery. Sean and Grace practiced more privately, as did Jake, Serena, and Adam since she’d gotten pregnant. And that Brit didn’t need a stage. He was tearing through Sanctum like a man on a mission to have as much sex as he possibly could.

So who the hell was sceneing? The last thing he needed was something to go wrong on his final night here.

“Are you ready?” Alex McKay walked up to him, followed by his sub, Eve St. James. McKay was dressed in leathers, pants and a vest and boots. The lovely Eve looked perfect in her corset, thong, and sky-high stilettos.

Ready to leave? No, but admitting it wouldn’t change a thing. “I’m not happy about it, but I’m ready.”

McKay glanced off to the stage. “Not happy? Really? Don’t let her know. I think she planned this out quite carefully.”

“Definitely don’t let her know,” Eve said, staring at the stage. “She’s been out of the lifestyle for so long. The last thing she would want is to find out her Dom isn’t happy with the scene she’s set out.”

“What?” Who the hell were they talking about?

Ian Taggart slapped his shoulder as he came up behind Ryan. “Church, your resignation is not accepted.”

Taggart had tried to talk him out of this once. “You can’t keep me here.”

His eyes trailed to the stage. “No. But I think she can.”

The lights went up and his heart almost stopped. Jillian was in slave position, on her knees, her head submissively down, knees spread wide. And she wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing, nothing but her own gorgeous skin. Her hair shone in the spotlight, bringing out all the golds and reds in her brown locks. They brushed past her shoulders and curled against her breasts.