Authors: Allyson Young
“I would appreciate a moment with McKenzie Blake. It’s vitally
important we speak.”
“She doesn’t work here anymore.”
Michael pushed down his despair and made himself nod as if he
totally understood. “I’d like her address and phone number.
Please
.” He never said please, not even
to McKenzie. And yet, he’d already said it twice in the past two days alone.
And he would say it often, over and over, if only someone would fix this.
“We don’t have it, sir. ’Kenzie has moved on.”
Nodding again, he heard himself thanking them as if they’d actually
done something as he took his leave. The silence behind him was oppressive. McKenzie
inspired loyalty. How could he have not known that? He demanded hers and she’d
given that impressive trait willingly, gladly. He took it as his due and hadn’t
cherished it. He had known that about McKenzie. Just something else he’d tried
to ignore in his terror of falling in love with one glorious woman, one
wonderful woman to be faithful to, loyal to, forever, or until something
happened to destroy that happiness. He was an utter, craven coward, shit in the
gutter, spit on the pavement. And McKenzie slipped through his fingers before
he had the chance to redeem himself. No, Michael had to own it, never forget
it.
He
drove McKenzie away. Now it
was up to him to fix this. The lines were drawn yesterday, the gloves were off
today.
Climbing back
in the car
he glared the detective into silence. “They said McKenzie quit and moved. I
don’t believe them. I think they’re hoping I’ll go away. I want you to put surveillance
on this place twenty-four seven.
“Find out everything you can
about those other women who work there. Find a weakness. They have to be paying
my woman under the table and if you can’t find anything else we’ll use that. I’ll
be in my office.”
Sanderson clambered out, his cell already in his hand and Michael
had
Jackson
take him to work in the family investment firm. Working without distractions
for hours, he caught up on everything he let slide over the past several weeks.
The work soothed him, familiar as it was, and re-established his sense of power
and control. Michael Webster was centered again, or at least as centered as he
could be without McKenzie, and failure was simply not an option, not as close
as he had come to triumph. He tried really hard not to worry about McKenzie in
the interim. Surely those people were looking after her. That used to be his
job, but through foolishness he’d abdicated the coveted position and would
willingly fight to attain it again.
The ringtone dedicated to the private detective sounded on his cell
near the end of the regular workday. Sanderson updated him and Michael wrote
down the address, telling the man he’d meet him there.
* * *
*
It was a small house, dwarfed by the ones around it. They all needed
tender loving care, the paint peeling, shingles curling. The yards were
miniscule and the fences had missing boards, the gaps like so many missing
teeth, surrounded by yellowed pickets. Lisa Murphy’s home looked tired, much
like the woman. The private detective had determined Lisa’s name and found her
address, despite the fact Lisa appeared to live with another woman with a
different last name.
The surfeit of well-worn children’s toys littering the yard might
give him the perfect tool he needed to crack this particular nut. Pushing
through the leaning gate, wincing at the squeal of the battered hinges Michael
strode to the door, the detective right on his heels. It opened before he had a
chance to knock.
“What do you want?” A tall thin woman wearing what appeared to be a
gunny sack tied at the waist with a sash somehow blocked the doorway with just
her attitude.
“Is Lisa Murphy here?”
“Who wants to know?”
“My name is Michael Webster. Lisa works with my fiancée.”
“Lisa doesn’t talk about work.”
“Mom? Who’s here?” A voice came from somewhere nearby, behind the
door.
“A Mr. Webster. He’s asking about his fiancée. What do you know
about that? What did you do?”
Lisa’s thin, anxious face popped up beside her mother’s shoulder.
Pale blue eyes widened, equally pale mouth forming a perfect circle. “Oh no.
Why did you come here? You can’t be here!”
Lisa’s anxiety seemed to spur her mother into action. The old
biddy’s mouth set, eyes narrowed into slits. Whatever upset Lisa appeared to be
something she wanted to capitalize on. The woman stepped back and gestured for
Michael and Sanderson to step inside, pushing Lisa ahead down the hallway as
she did so. The house smelled of fried food and sour milk, an altogether
noxious combination, but Michael followed Lisa and her mother into a cramped
living room, Sanderson hard on his heels. More signs of children were scattered
around the room, and Michael could see a little pair of legs protruding from a
highchair set akimbo in the adjoining kitchen. The sounds of children
conversing were muted, probably the result of the miasma of the miserable woman
bearing down on Lisa.
“What’s Lisa done?” The old lady’s mouth looked like she’d tasted
something sour, eyes glinting with anticipation.
“Nothing, mom! He’s some kind of abusive man. One of the girls I
work with used to date him and she ran away.”
“Humph. Girls bring that kind of thing on themselves.”
Michael wasn’t about to disabuse good old mom, despite how much the
comment pissed him off. McKenzie brought nothing upon her. It was
his
fucking fault. He managed to reply
in a civil tone. “I want to speak to McKenzie and see if she will reconsider
our relationship.”
Lisa’s mouth opened but the older woman forestalled her. “That’s
none of our business. If you’re not here about Lisa then you go. I thought she
was in trouble again.”
Sanderson pushed past flashed his badge. “Your daughter
will
be in trouble if she withholds
information about Mr. Webster’s fiancée, ma’am. Ms. Blake took some things that
didn’t belong to her when she left.”
The man was quick. Sanderson knew appealing to the woman’s non-existent
heart about a romance would fail, but her all-too-easily-offended twisted
morality would be a different story. Clearly Michael’s new found romantic side
needed to take a back seat in this instance, but he had thought to appeal to
Lisa. “A thief! You’re working with a thief, Lisa? I knew that place wasn’t
somewhere appropriate to work. You’ll need to find employment elsewhere.”
Michael hastened to try and undo some of the damage. He recognized
submissive but this was downtrodden and god knew where Lisa would find another
job in this economy. He didn’t want to hurt her, and some part deep in his
brain marvelled at his compassion. McKenzie had evoked that quality in him, as
hard as he worked to deny it.
“We’ll make sure she doesn’t work with Lisa any longer, Mrs. Murphy.
That should fix things.”
“It might. Lisa, tell the man what he wants to know.”
Leaving moments later, with an address and knowledge McKenzie would
be back at work tomorrow, without needing to bribe anyone, not even for the
children’s sake, inspired Michael. That didn’t stop him from shaking Lisa’s
hand and pressing a goodly sum into her palm, keeping his body between Lisa’s
face and her mother’s assessing eyes. He was going to do only the right thing
from here on in, no matter the cost. Lisa’s mother assured him, gimlet eyes
scoring her daughter’s feeble efforts to stay aloof, that she would forestall
any interference by Lisa on McKenzie’s behalf.
The detective urged him to wait to confront McKenzie in the morning,
when she was on her way to work, explaining it was easier to pick up a person
from the street than drag them from a residence, especially a place that could
house any number of surprises. Michael didn’t want to listen to his advice, to
wait, but it made considerable sense. They made their plans and he had his
driver drop Sanderson at his office before going home to prepare things to
welcome his recalcitrant sub home. His hands trembled and his heart beat
against the walls of his chest in grateful anticipation. He wanted to call
everyone he knew, but contented himself with calling only Jenifer, afraid of
jinxing things. His cousin’s acerbic attitude actually softened for an instant
before she told him not to fuck up this time.
Chapter Seven
McKenzie wasn’t quite dressed when Donna pounded on her bedroom
door, and she hurried to pull it open.
“Asshole found out where you live and that you didn’t quit at the
Lees yet.”
McKenzie’s gut clenched as if punched. “But how?”
“Lisa. He went to her house with some guy Lisa and the old lady
thought was a cop, saying you was a thief. Lisa’s mom believed it of course,
because she always believes the worst of anyone connected to Lisa and made Lisa
tell them where you lived. Lisa said asshole put some money in her hand,
actually a lot of it, so that made her think about things.
“She figured out cops don’t bribe people. It’s the other way around.
She figured the badge wasn’t real, so then she felt guilty and called me first
thing this morning. It was as soon as she could use the phone without her mom
around. She didn’t have a phone number for you. So, c’mon, let’s get it done. A
big ass black car is parked just down the block. Let’s give him a surprise.”
“Did you find somewhere for me to go?” McKenzie shook at the thought
of seeing Michael again and fought to control herself. She didn’t care to
examine her mixed reaction.
“I’m still working on it. I know somebody at the shore, although
it’s not much of a place. You’ll be okay there and the season’s coming up if
you can get through the rest of the winter, waitressing maybe.”
“Whatever you managed, Donna. Thanks. But how do I get past
Michael?” She felt her knees tremble some more and her legs turn rubbery. She
didn’t know if she could bear to look at his beloved face again without giving
in and throwing herself at his feet. Michael was like a drug she’d gone without
for too long and withdrawal was only in the initial stages. She’d been dying
without him.
“We’ll just walk on by and if he gets pushy leave it to me.”
McKenzie shook her head. “I won’t let you get in the middle of this.
I’ll tell him I’ll meet him later for coffee, and if you don’t have those
arrangements made by then, maybe you can come with me. I might be strong enough
to tell him no if you’re there.”
“Probably won’t come to that. Now, c’mon.”
McKenzie wondered at Donna’s assured attitude. But then the other
woman somehow always looked confident, even if it came from not giving a shit. Pulling
her hoodie on she suddenly, superstitiously, looked around the little room,
experiencing a sinking feeling she would never see it again. Going to the
dresser McKenzie picked up a little figurine of a cat, something purchased at
the open market on a whim after her first ever pay check. It was something that
spoke to her. The little china body, all shiny black with topaz eyes and an
enigmatic look was her touchstone in the first few weeks. No one needed to tell
her why that was so or why she’d chosen it. Tucking the ornament into the
hoodie pocket she patted the little bulge. “I’m ready.”
They made it maybe a hundred feet down the street before Michael’s
tall, fit body emerged from the limo, followed by a shorter, stockier figure. McKenzie’s
heart pounded and her sex clenched in sympathetic reaction. Perspiration sprang
out on her spine and she had to consciously stiffen her knees against falling
to them. Donna blew out a breath beside her and they both slowed their forward
motion, stopping as one. She borrowed against Donna’s strength, setting her face
in as blank a look as she could manage.
“McKenzie.
Please
. Come
home.”
Whatever she’d expected it hadn’t been that.
Please
.
Home
. No
masterful pronouncements, no Dom look. Just a simple request. Heartfelt.
Michael looked tired, thinner, his black hair all awry, and the circles under
his golden eyes rivalled her own. McKenzie hadn’t processed such details two
days prior, as overcome with shock as she’d been. The silence stretched out and
she longed to fill it but couldn’t find any words. Michael did instead.
“Please. I can’t live without you. We can work this out.”
Oh God, the appeal. Michael sounded so honest, so caring and loving,
although he hadn’t actually said it. Like he’d finally figured things out. But
what if he just couldn’t find another sub to meet his needs as well as she did?
What if he still meant to give her to the twins? She began to shake in earnest,
actually vibrating, and Michael reached for her, his face drawn and worried.
Donna stepped between them and faced him down.
“Let McKenzie answer without laying those paws on her, asshole.
Don’t you fucking dare try to influence her. Don’t you fucking dare use her
feelings against her.”
McKenzie’s tongue became unglued at Donna’s brazen perception. She
cleared her throat and Donna stepped away, leaving ’Kenzie to stare into
Michael’s now glowing topaz eyes. He was mesmerizing her again and she blinked
to dispel the impression. “I can’t, Michael. I won’t take a chance on
destroying us both.”