The Men With the Golden Cuffs (3 page)

Serena ignored her best friends’ banter and strode to the elevator. She pressed the button, praying it would get here soon and she could put this whole thing behind her.

She had no illusions that they would actually take her case. She’d seen it in Jake Dean’s dark eyes. He didn’t believe her any more than the police had. The police had actually asked if she was making it up as a publicity stunt. At least the investigators at McKay-Taggart had been more polite.

She would have to tell the freaking press for that ploy to work. She’d done her best to keep it quiet. And besides, she wasn’t big enough to make the news. Given the nature of her work, she likely would be told by everyone that she had asked for it.

It was brutally unfair, but she’d be judged and sentenced and no one would even have read what she wrote. They would take one look at the covers and call her work smut. She’d seen it time and time again.

“Honey, I’m sorry.” Chris’s arm slid around her shoulder. He leaned over and kissed her forehead.

Her gay husband had proven so much more loving and affectionate than her real husband. She leaned into him, grateful for his strength.

“I want to know what happened in there. Do I need to go talk to someone?” Bridget asked.

Bridget was the sister she’d never had. The scourge of lazy retail clerks, snooty waiters, and bad drivers everywhere, Bridget was always the first one to kick a little ass.

Serena doubted Bridget could handle Jake Dean. Adam Miles was another story.

“No. It just didn’t work out. It’s not a big deal.” She brushed away a stray tear as the elevator opened. “None of this is a big deal.”

It couldn’t be. It was someone’s idea of a sick joke, and when she refused to respond, they would give up. Nothing physical had happened. She would be fine.

Chris followed her into the elevator, a frown on his handsome face. Chris Roberts was six feet two with a crown of blond hair and an angelic face. It was a crime to women everywhere that he preferred men. “It’s not nothing. I’m moving in.”

She had to avoid that at all costs. “No, you’re not. You just moved in with Jeremy. You can’t leave him. You’re happy. And before you say anything, you’re not coming over, either. Your boyfriend already hates my guts, Bridge.”

“Only because he’s an asshole.” Bridget’s pretty face screwed up in a look of pain. “I don’t know why I’m still with him.”

Because she’d been with him so long she wasn’t sure how to not be with him. Serena knew the feeling. She was over her ex in every way imaginable, and yet she still woke up at night feeling alone. It couldn’t help that Bridget had watched how amazing Serena’s dating life was. Nonexistent. Nothing. A big fat zero. She had no time to even think about dating. She only had her work.

The door to the elevator opened, and she walked out, forcing her feet to move. She let her friends lead her to Bridget’s Nissan, and she snapped her seatbelt on like a zombie. They started talking, but she felt far away.

She hadn’t loved Doyle in a long time. She kind of actively hated him now. Their marriage had been over forever and yet the man could still make her feel like she was nothing.

And so could Jake Dean. When she’d first walked into his office, she’d felt an instant connection to the man. His eyes had been warm, and she’d sized him up immediately. She did that a lot. She’d seen big, strong Jake and immediately started building a character around him. And then he’d shoved her at Adam, and her brain had gone on overload.

Two gorgeous men. Partners. Jake would be the deadly predator and Adam the tender warrior. They would function as a team, as halves of a whole. They just needed the right heroine to bring them both to life.

Yeah, that was going to happen.

You’re sick, Serena. You’re perverted. It’s just wrong what you wrote. It would be wrong if you wanted one man to tie you up and spank you, but no, Serena Brooks has to go for two. I never would have married you if I had known just how depraved you are. No smart man is going to want a woman like you.

She still could hear her husband’s words as he’d blown up six years of marriage. She’d made the horrible mistake of showing him one of her stories. She’d written in private for so long. But he’d utterly rejected her when he’d read one of her books. She’d supported him as he’d tried to write, but he’d dumped her because her work wasn’t intellectual. Because her work was embarrassing.

Of course, once he’d figured out how much money she was making, the asshole had changed his tune.

Her cell phone rang. She looked down. Her agent. She let her eyes close. She didn’t really want to talk to Lara, but she owed her. “Hello.”

Lara’s voice came across the line with the force of a bullet. Several bullets. Lara spoke in a rapid-fire manner, peppering her with questions. “Are you out? Is everything done? How do you feel now? So, who did Ian assign to you? I know he wouldn’t take it himself, but I expect someone good.”

Lara had been the one to send her to McKay-Taggart. She would not be pleased that Serena had been turned down. Serena ignored the first questions. Lara would only really be interested in the answer to her last question. “Sorry. I don’t think they’re going to take the case.”

She was silent for a moment. Lara Anderson was a bitch and a half. It worked for her as an agent. It sometimes scared the crap out of Serena.

“I will handle this.” The phone clicked off.

“Is über-bitch on the case? Goddamn it! What are you doing in the fast lane, idiot? Seriously? Do more than twenty miles a fucking hour!” The horn blared, and the small vehicle in front of them obediently moved to the right lane. Bridget was the very definition of road rage.

“She’s going to try, but I don’t think these guys go down easy. And, honestly, I don’t think I want them on the case. If Lara forces them to take it, they won’t be serious about it.” And they would charge her out the ass. A pissed-off guardian probably wasn’t the best guardian.

But when she’d first met Adam Miles, she’d felt like he liked her. He’d smiled and been friendly. There had been genuine concern on his face. She’d felt safe with him. But it meant nothing since Jake Dean seemed so damn willing to shove her to the side.

But the truth was neither one of them would accept her if they read her work. That would sink her. Jake had probably run her pen name. That was why he’d rejected her.

“Sweetie, we’re home. Let’s go inside.” Chris got out of the car. He opened the back door and held out his hand. Bridget ran around the car and stood beside him.

Serena was enveloped in their arms as she got out of the car. Tears pricked her eyes. No matter what her ex said, she was loved. Even if she only had these two people beside her, she was blessed beyond measure.

Serena wrapped her arms around them. Whatever happened, she would be all right.

“Okay, sweets,” Chris said, squaring his shoulders. “Let’s do this thing.”

She sniffled a little. It seemed wrong that she now had security protocols for walking into her own house. It seemed like a bit of overkill, but Chris and Bridget insisted on it. And it really did make her feel better.

Her two newest purchases had been all about safety. The alarm trilled as she entered her house. And her dog panted and wagged his massive tail.

“Hey there Mojo!” She turned off the alarm and got to one knee, the big mutt licking every inch of her face.

“Yes, Mojo is such a guard dog. Are you going to love the stalker to death? Yes, you are. You’re going to take him down by humping his leg!” Bridget rubbed a hand down the dog’s back. “You couldn’t have gotten a pit bull?”

She tightened her arms around Mojo’s neck. “I went in to get a killer, but they were going to put him down. He’s so sweet. I had to save him. And he’s big enough that he should make people think twice.”

Chris stood looking at them, shaking his head. There was a baseball bat in his hand. He’d bought it right after the first death threat and placed it just inside her front door. “You two stay here until I get back.”

He walked off, doing his normal perimeter sweep. She had gone with him a few times since he’d decided on this particular protocol. He would walk through each room, checking her closets and even looking under the beds.

Bridget walked to her answering machine. She frowned at the blinking light. “What’s the bet?”

“I’m not betting. We both know who it is. I need to change my number.” Serena filled Mojo’s bowl with his favorite kibble.

Bridget pushed the button and Doyle’s voice came over the line. Cool and crisp, he was every inch the pretentious professor, even in a voice mail message.
 

“All right, Serena. I got your latest little legal form. My lawyer is looking over it right now. I don’t think anyone with half a mind will buy it. You wrote that smut while I was supporting you with a legitimate, respectable job. You wrote that filth on my dime. I want half. I’m not going away until you start paying me. Do you understand?” Then an angry click.

Bridget’s face was bright red. “I am going to cut his balls off with a really crappy pair of scissors. I want him to feel every single moment of pain. After I cut his balls off, I’m going to stomp on them with my best shoes and then feed them to my cat. Wait. I’m not feeding my cat anything fatty and full of itself. She’s on a strict diet. I’ll feed them to that little yippee dog next door. That thing could use the cholesterol. That way I kill two obnoxious birds with one stone.”

“Doyle?” Chris asked, a dark look on his face.

Serena nodded. “I think he just figured out I’m not going to write him a check.”

Bridget shook her head. “And you shouldn’t. He did nothing to help you. He divorced you over those books. He can’t come back now and expect to get half the money. The divorce is final.”

But according to her lawyer, Doyle had the right to file the claim. He seemed to think he could change the law. He wouldn’t win, but he could make her life difficult. Her lawyer thought they were after a quick settlement to make them go away, but Serena wasn’t going to give that man a dime.
 
She would go to court and watch the judge throw out his case.

It all made her ridiculously tired.

She hugged her friends and said good-bye, promising to call if she needed anything. She set the alarm the minute the door closed, sealing herself in for the rest of the day. It was only afternoon, but she would stay here, locked in.

The cops said the stalker hadn’t done anything to her yet. They didn’t get that this man had already changed her life for the worse. She was isolated, utterly alone, and vulnerable.

Her cell phone trilled. Another message. Probably more threats from Doyle.

She pulled up the text.

You can’t tease a person and expect God to forgive you.

She sank to her knees. He had her private cell. She brushed away her tears and called the police. They would tell her the same thing. He hadn’t specifically threatened her. He hadn’t shown up at her house. He used disposable, untraceable cell phones.

There was nothing they could do but make a report.

But by god, she would have her report. Jake Dean and Adam Miles might not choose to take her case, but she would find someone who would. She wouldn’t stop. She wouldn’t lay down for this asshole. She wouldn’t let him take her life. She wouldn’t stop writing because she was scared. She wasn’t giving him an inch.

She was going to fight. Alone if she had to.

Jacob Dean watched a pretty blonde give him the eye. She wore very little clothing, but that was the nature of Club Sanctum. No one wore much. He was in his leathers and a pair of boots. The blonde—he thought her name was Kallie—wore a leather bustier, thong, and no shoes. The bare feet marked her as a submissive. The tray in her hand marked her as working.

But that never stopped a good Dom. If he wanted, he could play with her. She had a lovely figure, very fashionable. She was slender with graceful breasts and slim hips. Her makeup was perfect and not a strand of platinum blonde hair was out of place.

So why was he thinking about a messy brunette?

He shook his head slightly to let Kallie know he had no interest. She shrugged and moved on.

He knew why he was thinking about Serena Brooks. Because she was far softer than Kallie. She was an adorable mess, with big green love-me-take-me-protect-me eyes. He’d taken a single look at Serena and wanted to take her into his arms and feel her soften against him. He’d wanted to get her in between him and Adam and not stop until one of them was buried in her pussy and the other in her ass.

And he didn’t trust that feeling.

“What has crawled up Adam’s ass and died a horrible death?” Liam’s musical accent brought Jake out of his thoughts.

“He’s pissed at me.” That was an understatement. Adam hadn’t talked to him all afternoon. Adam had shoved him out of his office and locked the door. Adam was having the grown man equivalent of a temper tantrum.

“Yeah, I got that. I asked where you were and he nearly bit my head off. He’s still at the office. What’s going on with that? He never works late.”