If only

Chapter Twenty-One

The Shadowlands was just starting to rev to life. With a sigh of exhaustion, Sally settled into a chair in a quiet part of the room. God, after the long, long night before, she was tired—and her body still hummed with satisfaction. Demon Doms.

Amazing Doms.

Okay, focus. She tipped her chair slightly, so she could watch the happenings and hopefully not be noticed.

She spotted Rainie. The trainee was at the bar, donning a starchy bib apron. Since she hadn’t worn anything on top, her heavy breasts swayed in and out of concealment of the ruffles running up the sides to the straps.

In a tight dark red latex skirt and bandanna-style top, Uzuri was arranging a munchie table that didn’t need any arranging. Her head kept turning so she could monitor the door between the main entrance and Master Z’s office. It was the door to the Masters’—and Mistresses’—area where they kept lockers with their clothing…and their gear.

Master Z didn’t keep the door locked, although that might change one of these days. Unfortunately, he might decide to solve the problem by simply handing over wayward trainees to a couple of the sadists.

Sally grimaced. She wasn’t a trainee any longer, so Master Z wouldn’t punish her without the Feds’ permission. G and V might well frown on her…assisting…her friends.

But jeez, she and Rainie and Uzuri had been planning this forever.

A few minutes ago, their target, Mistress Anne, had entered the Masters’ locker room. Sally tilted her head, trying to follow in her mind what would be happening.

Since the slender brunette had looked rather scruffy, she was probably showering over on the female side of the room. Master Z kept robes and towels in there, so she’d have donned a robe. She’d open her locker and…

No noise.

Huh. Well, maybe the rubber spider hadn’t scared her, although it had probably pissed her off. But there were a few other treats tucked away, and one that—

“Shit!” The voice was Anne’s, and even with that, she hadn’t screamed. “Goddamn son-of-a-bitching brats!”

Gotcha.

Giggles rose in Sally’s belly like champagne bubbles, impossible to suppress. At the munchie area, Uzuri had her hands over her mouth. Rainie—being smart—had turned her back to the door, but her shoulders were visibly shaking.

Oh God, we’re all going to die.

Feeling a twinge of worry, Sally scooted her chair around and curled into a smaller, less visible ball, before peeking around the edge.

Mistress Anne stalked into the club room. A couple of scenes had already started. Anne glanced at them, and her mouth tightened. She was too experienced to start shouting and disturb the session.

Instead, she went to the bar and spoke to Master Cullen.

Both Master Cullen and Mistress Anne turned to stare at Rainie.

The big, beautiful woman visibly shrank.

Hell, that was way too fast. Sally scowled. Next time, they’d better stick to the newer Doms who couldn’t read body language so easily—and who might be embarrassed to mention a prank to other Doms.

Mistress Anne didn’t embarrass. Shit.

Look innocent, Uzuri. Facing the room, Mistress Anne slowly looked around the room. Her gaze came to rest on Uzuri.

The short trainee had turned her back and was unloading a tray. The red beads decorating her kinky black hair swung from side to side on her back as she swayed to the music. Yeah, obviously, she didn’t have a care in the world.

Way to go, Uzuri. Who would have thought Rainie would have no acting abilities?

Mistress Anne strolled across the room toward the munchie table, looking just like Glock stalking a cricket in the grass. The Mistress set her hand on Uzuri’s shoulder.

The trainee jumped. Spoke. Smiled. Everything looked good, as far as Sally could see.

Then Mistress Anne took Uzuri’s chin in her palm, closed her fingers tight enough to make the trainee flinch, and said something.

Uzuri caved. Totally caved, going as spineless as an amoeba.

Sheesh, where’d the trainees’ courage go? This was only Mistress Anne…the most sadistic of the Doms.

As Uzuri joined Rainie at the bar, Sally slunk lower in the chair. The girls wouldn’t give her up. Not ever. But—with a sinking sensation, she saw Master Cullen point right at her.

Didn’t it just figure he’d noticed her arrive? And he knew she’d been an accomplice to every prank committed in, like, forever.

Oookay. Look at the bright side—at least I don’t have testicles to torture.

Like Darth Vader, Mistress Anne appeared and stood over her, looking down. A small cane swung from her braided leather belt.

Great. I hate canes. Sally endeavored a smile. “Good evening, Mistress.”

Hands clasped behind her back, Mistress Anne stared at the ceiling. Silently.

More silence.

More silence.

Sally felt sweat bloom on her upper lip, on her low back.

Mistress Anne looked down. “I don’t like bugs.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Sally said ever so politely. “We thought it was our duty as trainees to help you conquer that problem.” Don’t laugh; don’t laugh; don’t laugh.

“Did you,” Anne said in a flat voice.

Sally’s urge to giggle died as worry flooded in.

Master Cullen wouldn’t let her be whipped to death…right?

Master Z would be upset to have dead trainees. All that paperwork.

Housekeeping might quit.

Anne’s voice was level. Quiet. “I have had a bad day. My permanent submissive, Joey, moved out last week. My secretary is on vacation, and papers are piling up. I caught a fist to the face from a cheating husband who didn’t appreciate the pictures I gave to his wife of him and his twenty-year-old fling.” Anne gingerly touched a darkening bruise along her jaw.

And continued slightly louder. “But when I got here, I thought life was looking up. I had a nice shower and was starting to relax, and then I find that my locker. And clothing. And shoes. And toy bag”—her voice rose—“are filled with rubber bugs!”

Sally stared. Mistress Anne had lost Joey? But they’d been so good together, and although Anne usually had more than one submissive under command, Joey had been with her ever so long. “I…I’m sorry, Mistress.”

More silence.

Why did the demon Dominants like to use stillness as a weapon? Sally’s teeth ground together as she started to shake.

“You aren’t a trainee, Sally,” Mistress Anne said finally. “You aren’t mine to punish…which means you shouldn’t pick me as a target.”

Ouch. Explaining that they’d planned the joke pre-Feds ownership of Sally probably wouldn’t help, would it? “Yes, Ma’am.”

“So my only recourse is to inform your Masters of your misbehavior. And how I feel about it.” Mistress Anne fixed cold eyes on Sally. “I’m sure they’ll think of something to do with you.”

Oh shit. Oh man, this was bad. “Yes, Ma’am.” As the Mistress walked away, Sally had to force herself not to run after her. Please, don’t tell Galen and Vance. Pleaaase!

When Mistress Anne reached the bar where Rainie and Uzuri waited, Master Cullen made a gesture, handing the two over to her. But she shook her head and said something.

Master Cullen glanced at his watch and nodded.

Right. She wouldn’t punish a submissive if she was angry. Sally winced. Somehow she doubted a cold Mistress Anne would be any gentler than a pissed-off one.

Sally took out her phone. Maybe—if she could think of what to say—she could sneak in an explanation to her Doms before Anne talked to them.

“Hey, Sally. I’ve been looking for you.” Kari walked over. “Are your guys here yet?”

“No. I’m going to call and see what’s keeping them.” Should I sound sweet or cute or…

“Cool. Dan’s running late too.” Kari shifted. “Too much diet soda—I’m going to visit the restroom. After you call, we can run upstairs and see Jessica.”

“Sounds good.” Sally stared at her cell phone, not quite ready to dial. Maybe penitent? Remorseful? Or flirty…flirty might work well, especially after last night.

The door to Vance’s office opened, letting in the noise from the main room. Early Friday evening, the FBI downtown field office was chaotic with the last rush of activity before the weekend.

He knew the feeling. If he could just get this report written, he and Galen could get to the Shadowlands and meet Sally.

As Vance looked up from his writing, Galen entered, looking sucker punched.

“What’s wrong?” Vance pushed aside the court case.

“The arsonist.” Galen’s voice was harsh. Tight. He set a memo onto the desk. “Two houses burned down last night. Police detectives—and their families.”

“Why would he kill cops now?” Vance glanced at the names of the deceased, and a cold chill ran through him. Those were the two cops who—along with Galen—had killed Somerfeld. Fuck. “Any other law-enforcement officers killed?”

“Just them.”

Vance’s jaw went tight as he remembered the scream of rage they’d heard at Somerfeld’s death.

“Leads?”

“Yeah, actually.” Galen looked even grimmer. “Research finally dug down to the untold story of the Somerfelds—although someone had done a pretty good job of burying the information.”

“Yeah?”

“Drew had a twin named Ellis who burned down the family home with Daddy alive inside. Got caught in the fire himself but survived. Judged criminally insane. Committed. Mom suicided.”

“Fuck, there’s a mess.”

“Ayuh. Drew went on to become a lawyer, assistant district attorney, and head of the Harvest Association.”

“The brother is loose?” A proven arsonist and crazy.

“Discharged from the mental institute a few years ago. Cutbacks, you know, especially since Drew pulled strings,” Galen said in a dry voice. “Once out, Ellis went off the grid. New York is searching Drew’s records to find him.”

“Goddamn it.” The sick feeling in the pit of Vance’s stomach increased. An insane bastard out for revenge. If Drew had kept him in check, that control was gone.

“Got a hit.” Annabel hurried in, holding a folder away from her body as if it was contaminated. After swallowing a few times, she said, “Drew owned a cabin in the Adirondacks. We did an inquiry…” Her voice trailed off.

“Talk, Annabel,” Galen said, taking the paperwork from her.

Vance’s cell rang, and he answered automatically. “Buchanan.”

“Aren’t you official?” Sally’s vibrant voice was clean and bright and beautiful, a complete contrast to the atmosphere in the office. “Where are you anyway? Kari and I are waiting for our law-enforcement boys.”

As Galen opened the folder, several photographs spilled onto the desk. A woman’s body. Her legs and torso were charred black, her face so battered that she was unrecognizable. A begrimed metal collar was around her neck.

Jesus. Fuck. Vance’s mouth went dry.

Annabel was telling Galen, “…arrived too late to save her. She was already dead. If only…”

“Vance, what’s wrong. Who’s dead?” asked Sally.

He couldn’t look away from the pictures. His stomach clenched as he moved the top photograph and saw another. Whip marks striped the back of the body.

A hand appeared in Vance’s field of vision, setting down a folder over the photos. Covering them. Freeing him. He looked up.

Galen’s gaze met his. “Where is Sally?” His voice was strained but controlled.

“The club. With Kari.”

“Tell her to stay there. Dan can take her to his house.”

“Vance, I can hear him,” Sally said on the cell. “What’s wrong? Did I do something—”

“You heard Galen,” Vance said. His skin felt cold. Two cops were dead. Somerfeld was out for revenge, and Galen would be next on the list.

What the bastard had done to that woman… Sally needed to stay far, far away from them. Vance’s voice was harsh as he said, “Stay with Kari. We’ll send your things to you there.”

WAS VANCE TALKING to her? Seriously? After staring at her cell phone, Sally put it back to her ear. “Send my things? But why? Who’s dead?”

“Two police officers are dead—because of us.” Vance took an audible breath. “And a woman.”

“Because of us.” Because they didn’t get there in time. Because of me. “Was she…” Did I cause that?

“Go and stay with Kari. I don’t want you to return to the house, is that clear?”

She froze, her mouth dropping open. “But you…you—”love me. You said. The words welled higher in a child’s helpless cry. “Let me—”be with you. Please. Her request dried up like corn in a drought, leaving her mouth tasting like dust.

Because she’d caused those deaths. If she hadn’t kept Galen and Vance up all night, hadn’t begged for attention, hadn’t made them late for work, maybe they’d have been in time to save the officers and the woman.

My fault. Because she was stupid and selfish and always asking for more. She stared at the empty St. Andrew’s cross, and guilt crept into her blood like a transfusion of darkness. Because Sally had wanted her men to lighten up, a woman had died.

And Vance was disgusted with her; she could hear it in the lifelessness of his voice, the coldness. Vance wasn’t cold. Not to her.

On the phone, she heard, “Buchanan, you need to—”

“Just a minute,” Vance snapped. “Sally, did you hear me?” Someone in Vance’s office was trying to get his attention. And she was interfering with his work again.

“I heard,” she whispered. “Take care of…” She didn’t have the right to say that to him. Didn’t have any rights at all. “Bye.”

She set the cell down beside her. Carefully. As if the phone would break if she handled it roughly.

Staring at the blank display, she curled into a ball in the leather chair. The leather skirt rucked up on her thighs. Making her look like a slut. And that leopard-printed top she’d put on earlier was stupid, not alluring at all.

She slowly pulled the cat ears’ headband from her hair. She’d wanted to talk the men into playing hunters against the wild cat woman. Her eyes closed as humiliation made her stomach sink.

Always playing games. No wonder the Feds wanted her gone. Her childish whining for attention had meant they hadn’t been there to prevent someone’s death. Self-loathing lapped at the edges of her confidence, and pieces of her crumbled off, falling into the blackness. Disappearing forever.

She looked up to see Kari returning from the bathroom, her phone to her ear. As she reached Sally, she said, “Okay. Love you,” and stuffed the cell into her pocket. “Dan says you’re our new roommate.”

“I heard.”

Kari sat down beside her. “Are you all right?”

“Oh sure.” No. And probably never again. “Just tired.”

“Hardly. Tell me what’s wrong.”

She forced a smile. “Nothing. Really. But I could use a drink.” Sally started to rise, glanced at the bar, and stopped.

Master Cullen was behind the bar. His submissive, Andrea, had her hands on her hips, and Cullen threw his head back, obviously roaring with laughter.

I don’t want to see him. He’d been Master of the trainees the night she’d come to the Shadowlands. The thought of disappointing him, first with her practical joke, and next because Vance and Galen didn’t want her anymore… She just couldn’t.

“Kari?” Sally bit her lip. “Could you, maybe, get me a drink? Anything is fine. I just want to…sit…for a minute.”

With a frown, Kari patted her arm. “Of course, I can. Stay put, and I’ll be right back.” She headed for the bar, pulling her phone out of her skirt pocket.

A check a little later showed Kari at the bar—and waiting in a line. Good. Sally rose and headed for the exit. Going to Kari and Dan’s house was out. She didn’t want to be around anyone and especially not a Shadowlands Master. Especially not Dan. He must think she was pathetic. She’d faked orgasms, chosen herself such an abusive Dom that Dan had to rescue her. Then once she hooked up with nice Doms, she was such a whiny bitch that she interfered with their jobs.

Got someone killed.

The Feds didn’t want her anymore. Galen hadn’t even talked to her to say good-bye.

Before she submerged herself in a complete mire of depression, she firmed her lips. She was a good person. Really. She had good friends. Was an honest, hardworking sort. Just couldn’t function in a relationship. Wanted too much. Selfish, self-centered. Stupid.

Near the door, as she halted to let three submissives in full pony attire trot past, she saw Rainie approaching with an empty tray in one hand.

“Hey, Sally. Mistress Anne is seriously furious.” Rainie patted her heavy breasts, looking worried. “She won’t be able to adapt her cock crushers to fit on my tits, will she?”

“Ah. Don’t think so.” Sally took another step toward the door. “Listen, I need—”

“Thank you, God.” Rainie grinned before frowning. “She’s gonna talk with your Doms and let them deal with you. Are you going to be in trouble?”

The unexpected question stabbed into Sally like a pitchfork, leaving bleeding holes in her heart. Galen and Vance wouldn’t be around to deal with her. “I-I… No. Vance and G-Galen don’t like me anymore, so I guess it’s not a problem.” She blinked against the welling tears.

After a blank stare, Rainie snarled, “Those sons of fucking bitches!” She slammed her drink tray down on the closest table, startling the two Doms sitting there. Putting an arm around Sally, she pulled her close. “What did they do, baby? What happened?”

Baby. Galen liked to call her baby girl. Sally pulled in a shuddering breath. “I’m not really sure.” I was selfish. Needy.

Like magic, Jessica and Gabi appeared in front of her.

Jessica was wearing the heavy black leather collar that Master Z required of her in the club, and the sight made Sally’s heart ache. Vance had put a collar on her. “…you can consider yourself collared by Galen and me until we take it off.” He’d liked her then.

“Sally,” Gabi said, her voice gentle. “You look miserable. Let’s sit for a bit.”

“I don’t think I want—” Before the sentence was finished, Sally was sitting on a couch with Gabi beside her.

“What’s made you so unhappy?” Gabi asked, brushing Sally’s hair back.

“It’s those fucking FBI agents,” Rainie said.

“The Feds? What did they do?” Jessica asked. Standing in front of the couch like a guard dog, she crossed her arms over her lacy bustier. “If they hurt you, I’m going to—”

Gabi clucked her tongue against her teeth. “Let’s get the facts before you string them up by their pride ’n’ joys, okay?”

“I’d rather hang ’em and get the facts later,” Rainie said, taking the same aggressive posture as Jessica.

Sally stared up at them. Two subbie defenders in one club? Master Z would have a fit. And yet, knowing they’d take on the Feds for her…that she wasn’t alone… Her chin quivered, and she bit her lip.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Gabi wrapped a warm hand around Sally’s.

“It’s not their fault. It’s mine.” She stared down at their joined hands. “I just wasn’t—”Ready. Prepared to break up. “Vance told me to go home with Dan and that they’d send my stuff. Not to go back to their house.” Not to go where she’d been so happy.

“That limp-dicked, slimeballed, fucking feckless FBI fart,” Rainie growled. “Get the noose.”

Gabi’s frown silenced the trainee. “Why, Sally?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know!” Realizing she’d shouted, Sally covered her mouth with a shaking hand. “I do know,” she whispered, grief filling her chest. “I wanted to— I made them late for work. People died.” Remorseful tears spilled over, turning the room to a wavering darkness. “But Gabi, they said they loved me. They did.”

Her breath hitched, and all she wanted was to crawl into a corner and cry and cry and cry. I tried to be good. I tried so hard.

“Huh. Sally, I know them—and can’t imagine them using the ‘love’ word if they didn’t mean it. Can you?”

Sally shook her head.

With a low humph, Rainie dropped into a leather chair on the other side of the coffee table. Jessica moved back beside her, resting a hip on the chair arm.

“Good, you’re here,” Kari said to Gabi as she walked into the area, holding a tray.

Sally pulled in a slow breath—get it together—and realized what Kari had said. “You called them?”

“Of course. They were just upstairs having a chat.”

No schoolteacher should be that sneaky.

Kari gave her a concerned smile and set the tray on the table. “I brought drinks for everyone, but no drinking if you’re planning to play later, okay?” She picked up a heavy mug and handed it to Sally. “Even from the bar, I could see you shaking. You get hot chocolate.”

Something warm would be good. Icy slush seemed to have replaced her blood. But she’d almost rather have a serious drink. Or a bottle. “Thank you.” Sally gulped down some of the hot chocolate and gasped as the liquid hit her stomach with far more potency than just milk. “What did you put in that?”

“Andrea wanted to come help, but Cullen said he needed her at the bar, so she mixed the cocoa with Baileys and Frangelico instead of water and said to consider that your hug.”

“She’s so sweet.” Almost tearing up again, Sally determinedly sipped. All alcohol, the drink heated her insides quickly.

Friends and alcohol and chocolate—FAC—the ultimate postdisaster support system for women.

Kari handed out the rest of the glasses and took one for herself.

Time to change the subject. Sally said, “You never told me if you got spanked for drinking at my graduation reception. Did you?”

The others giggled…until Kari’s mouth turned down. “No. I didn’t. He hasn’t—” She sighed. “Sex is okay, but I miss the D/s stuff. It’s like… I guess he doesn’t want me that way anymore.” She shrugged. “But it is what it is.”

As everyone stared at her, Kari took a hefty swallow of her drink. “Zane is staying with my mother tonight, so I can get drunk if I want to.”

“That sucks,” Gabi muttered. “If I get drunk and mouthy, Marcus knows I’m craving a fake fight and punishment. I get spanked.”

Sally knew Gabi would never deliberately disappoint her Dom. But Master Marcus enjoyed that she provided him with reasons to tan her ass. Of course, being a Dom, he didn’t need any excuse other than he wanted to, but punishment role-playing was just plain fun.

Sally managed to smile, even as grief threatened again. She and Vance and Galen had barely begun to develop those unspoken agreements. She shook her head to dislodge the thought and studied Kari. She’d been sick and exhausted for months after having Zane, but not anymore. And Zane must be around eight months old.

It would be nice to have a baby someday. Sally had wondered once or twice if Galen and Vance wanted children.

Guess I don’t have to worry about that.

She’d worry about Kari instead. Starting now. Sally turned to Gabi. “Can I stay with you tonight? I think Kari needs to smack Dan upside the head while Zane’s not around to watch.”

“What?” Kari’s drink stopped halfway to her lips.

Gabi simply smiled. “I totally agree. A good smacking is indicated, and yes, you’ll come home with me tonight.”

At Gabi’s instant agreement, Sally felt the wetness on her cheeks. Jeez. “Thanks.” She tried to furtively wipe her eyes and froze at the sight of a giant in leathers stalking toward their sitting area. Oh shit.

Silently, his submissive, Andrea, followed him into the group.

Master Cullen stared down at Sally. “Did you think you could hide in a corner and cry?” he asked without a hint of his usual good humor.

Unable to speak, she shook her head and stared at her feet.

He dropped to a knee in front of her. “Look at me, love,” he said, a hand on her cheek turning her face back to his. As his perceptive green eyes studied her, anger harshened his features. “Are those Feds the reason you’re crying?”

God, she didn’t want to set one Master against another. “No. I’m just having a bad day. I’m not at all—”

“You’re not at all a good liar.” Cullen shook his head. “Were they annoyed at what you did to Mistress Anne?”

“No. They don’t know.” Don’t need to know now. “Master Cullen, please. This isn’t necessary.”

“But she is crying because of the Feds,” Rainie volunteered. “They dumped her. Fuck, the assholes just told her they’d send her stuff and not to come back. Over the phone no less.”

Sally scowled at her way-too-helpful friend.

Cullen’s face darkened with rage.

No no no. Holding up a hand, Sally stammered out, “It’s my fault, all my fault. I screwed up. Don’t—”

Andrea stepped up beside Cullen, her eyes sparkling with wrath. “Cabrónes. Hijos de puta.” She touched Cullen’s hand, which had formed a fist, and actually nodded approval. “Sí, Señor, wipe the pavement with them.”

A grin broke over his face. “You’re definitely the woman I love.” He gave Andrea a quick kiss. “Find Jake and give him the bar, and if I’m not back before you’re ready to leave, text me.”

When he headed for the door with a determined stride, Sally stared after him. “He wouldn’t—”

“But yes. He will leave their bones scattered in the street for the dogs to chew.”

Sally’s mouth dropped open. Andrea really was a match for Master Cullen.

Andrea gave her a hug. “It will get better. Now I must do as Señor said.”

As her friend headed back to the bar, Sally realized everyone was looking at her again.

“So, I want to go over this a bit more,” Gabi said.

Jessica nodded. “I’m missing the logic too. They threw you out of the house because you made them late for work?”

“I wanted…” She wanted to hide under the couch rather than admit to her selfishness. With a sigh, she pushed her hair out of her face. She should own up to what she’d done. “They’d been so depressed, and I wanted to make them feel better.” Her eyes filled again. “I didn’t mean to make it all about me.” But she had.

“Go on.” Rainie prompted, “You jumped them in bed? Or forced them to endure blowjobs? Or cooked them an extra-big breakfast?”

“Last night, I attacked them with a water gun and started a fight.” Her lips curved for a second before quivering again.

“They were angry?” Gabi asked softly.

“I’ve never heard Galen laugh so hard.” Sally looked at her hands. “And yeah, there was sex.”

“So this morning, you pulled them back in bed and started to cry because you wanted more sex?” Jessica asked.

“No!” Sally shook her head. “I’d never do that. We just slept too late, and, well, Galen decided he needed…and Vance agreed.”

Rainie snickered. “I can guess how that ended. But sounds like they made themselves late. You didn’t.”

“But I did. It’s my fault. I asked…” Sally stopped, playing the morning back in her memory. “No. No, I didn’t. I didn’t whine. Or beg. Or even ask them not to go.” Relief was like an upwelling of clear water, so clear she could almost see to the bottom of her idiocy. “But still, they were late to work. They weren’t there, and people died.”

Kari was frowning. “Are you blaming yourself for those cops who died? Jeez, Sally, they died in New York. Yesterday evening. Galen and Vance couldn’t have prevented that.”

“New York?” Sally slumped back. “I…don’t get it. And the woman?”

“A forest in New York state. A couple of days ago. Someone saw a cabin burning, but the fire department was too late.”

The fire department? She closed her mouth. None of it was her fault.

“What else do you know?” Jessica asked Kari.

“Just that Sally was staying with us because Dan isn’t officially on the Association case.”

“So why did they kick Sally out?” Rainie asked.

Sally pulled in a breath as understanding lightened the darkness inside her.

“The Harvest Association?” Jessica asked. “But I thought they’d caught the head of the organization. That he was dead.”

“The arsonist is still running loose,” Sally said.

“Dan said the cops were shackled to something, so they couldn’t escape,” Kari said.

Gabi had turned the color of her white peasant blouse. “Shackles and death by fire. The Harvest Association signature.”

“That’s just sick.” Rainie’s lip twisted as if she wanted to spit.

“But if the deaths happened in New York, what does it have to do with me?” Sally asked. “I don’t get it.”

“Well.” Kari bit her lip. “This stays with us, right?”

Heads nodded.

“The two cops who died were the ones who’d shot that Somer guy. Galen shot him too.”

Sally’s eyes widened. “They think the arsonist is after revenge?” Oh fuck. “That the guy might come here?” A knife of worry slid between her ribs almost soundlessly. Galen was in far more danger than she was.

Gabi pursed her lips. “Galen is definitely the type who imagines worst-case scenarios.”

A chill crept up Sally’s spine. Because he’d lived through them. “I didn’t do anything wrong. And they do love me. But they don’t want to see me hurt.”

Kari nodded. “That sounds right.”

She leaned back, relaxing for the first time in hours. Nothing had changed—she was still ousted from the house, separated from the idiots she loved—and yet everything was different. “So Vance sent me away—and Galen let him—because there’s a chance some a-hole will decide to visit sunny Florida?”

She didn’t need an answer. Oh yes, that’s exactly what had happened. Because Galen wouldn’t take any chance that she might get killed as his wife had. She growled. “Those fucking dickless—okay, maybe not that—lily-livered, spineless, impotent—okay, not that either—chickenhearted, dim-witted, gutless Doms.”

Gabi snorted. “No Dom cookies for them?”

“There’s the Sally we know and love.” Jessica grinned. “What are you going to do?”

“Be nice if I could kick them to the curb.” She considered that glorious scenario and sighed. “Only that would hurt me as well.”

Gabi patted her hand. “I’ve seen shortsighted idiots do that though. I’m glad you’re smarter.”

Pulling out her cell phone, Sally powered it off. “I need to think and think hard before I talk to them.” And she started thinking about what she wanted to accomplish.

“These are the rules of combat,” Galen had said. “The time limit on making up is twenty-four hours, whereupon discussion must begin.” Yes, G and V figured they were acting for her own good, but…discussion? Hello?

“Don’t talk. Just use Mistress Anne’s cock-and-ball torture devices on them,” Rainie suggested.

“Clever idea.” A laugh bubbled up in Sally, half relief, half amusement. “Assuming I want to have my arms and legs ripped off.”

Jessica grinned. “And you might yet have a use for those manly bits. It’s just not good makeup sex without them.”

The Feds really had a knack for great makeup sex. Sally hugged herself. With luck, she’d soon have all those fully functional, manly bits back in her bed. “Somehow, I have to get the guys to see reason.”

“Did you just use reason in the same sentence as men? You need a reality check.” Grinning, Rainie shook her head—and froze, her gaze fixed on something beyond Sally.

“What?” Sally asked.

“Time to get to work.” With a grunt of exertion, Rainie pushed herself up, grabbed the tray from the coffee table, and hustled away.

“What’s with Rai—” Gabi glanced over her shoulder and flinched. “Oh hell, he said he was working late tonight.”

Sally turned.

Master Z and Marcus stood inside the club room, looking directly at the group.

With a groan, Jessica slid down into the chair Rainie had vacated. “How does he always know if I sneak down here? Who ratted us out? It wasn’t Cullen this time—he didn’t notice anyone but Sally.”

Feeling remorseful, Sally glanced around the room. Maybe she could sic the trainees on the informant. Around the bar, mostly newer Doms and Dommes had congregated. A few submissives were chatting with Andrea. Behind the bar was…the new Master. Jake.

His gaze went past Sally, undoubtedly to Master Z, and he touched his fingers to his forehead in a make-believe salute.

“It was Jake,” Sally told the others.

“That jerk.” Jessica fumed. “I don’t believe it. He’s even coming to dinner tomorrow. I swear, I’m going to serve him a chocolate cake with a chocolate-flavored laxative for the filling.”

Kari choked on her drink. “You wouldn’t.”

“Well no.” Jessica glared at Jake, and his smile widened. She glanced in the other direction and shrank down in her chair.

Gabi picked up her glass. “They’re coming this way, aren’t they?” she asked Jessica.

“Oh yeah.”

Gabi chugged the rest of her drink.

“Maybe I don’t want the munch-ass Feds back,” Sally said. “Not if they’d go all Dom on my ass just for coming here.”

“It’s worth it, sweetie.” Gabi turned.

Shoulder to shoulder, the two Masters stood right behind the couch. Marcus folded his arms over his chest, looking down at his submissive.

Gabi gave him a brilliant smile. “Sir, how nice to see you here already. Did you know the Feds had—”

Sally noticed Master Marcus’s steel-colored suit brought out the blue of his eyes, which were just a shade or two lighter than Vance’s. And Vance’s eyes acquired that same intensity when he slid into that dangerous Dom mode.

“Darlin’ Gabi, I do believe we need to have a bit of a chat.” Master Marcus’s southern accent somehow had taken on an ominous edge. The way he loosened his tie was even more threatening.

Sally twisted around fully. “Master Marcus, it’s all my—”

Laughing, Gabi rose, put a hand over Sally’s face, and pushed her over backward on the couch.

Sally stared up in disbelief.

Turning slightly so Marcus wouldn’t see, Gabi winked before smiling cheerily at her Dom. “Sir, would you really punish me for rushing downstairs to help my friend? Wouldn’t that show you don’t value loyalty?”

The smile that flashed across his face revealed why the man could positively mesmerize a panel of jurors. “That’s a fine defense, sweetheart. Come along now and we’ll discuss it.”

With immense dignity, Gabi walked around the couch to her Dom. They hadn’t gotten far when Gabi shouted, “Spank me! That’s still a punishment. You bloated dickhead, you really are proof that evolution can go in reverse.”

He turned her around, and Sally saw the twitch of his lips before he looked at his submissive sternly, raising his voice slightly. “Master Cullen would enjoy having a bar ornament if your cheeks aren’t up to being reddened.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong. Sir.” Gabi crossed her arms over her chest. Her voice was syrupy sweet as she asked, “Did you ever wonder what life would be like if you’d had enough oxygen at birth?”

He was still laughing as he dropped into a chair, yanked her over his lap, and administered the first resounding whack on her bottom.

“Jessica.” Master Z walked into the sitting area.

Jessica straightened in response.

Eeks. Sally scrambled to a sitting position so fast she almost fell off the couch. Her head spun for a moment. For God’s said, how much alcohol had Andrea put in her drink. She shook her head and frowned. How could she help? Jessica was in trouble because of her.

Dressed in his usual black silk shirt and black tailored slacks, Master Z stopped in front of Jessica’s chair and looked down at her. The deep timbre of his voice was even smoother than the expensive Scotch whisky he preferred to drink. “I realize you wanted to help Sally, but would a phone call to me not have been appropriate?”

Jessica sighed. “Yes, Master. I just…forgot.”

“You’ve forgotten quite a few things recently,” he said gravely. “Is there something—a need—I’m not meeting? Or some reason you might feel insecure?”

When Jessica didn’t answer, he crouched in front of her, taking her face between his hands. “I love you, kitten. Whatever is bothering you, we’ll work it out. But you have to let me in before that can happen.”

“I don’t think that there’s anything.” Jessica’s whisper was almost inaudible. “Just that…”

“That you want a baby. I know, pet.” He studied her for a minute. “Is that all?”

Jessica nodded.

“Then we will continue to work on the problem.” Master Z gave her a flashing smile. “Perhaps some different positions will help. So while you are being punished, you may offer suggestions until I feel we have an adequate variety…or my arm gets tired.”

When Jessica’s mouth dropped open, he traced a finger around her lips. “I like that idea, but I’m afraid it won’t help you get pregnant.”

As she sputtered out a laugh, he pulled her to her feet. “Get my toy bag, please, and wait by the cross at the end of the room.”

“Yes, Master.” She rose on tiptoes to kiss his cheek and gave him a quick grin. “I hope you’re flexible, Master.”

He was chuckling as he turned.

And Sally realized—too late—that she should have fled the minute she had the chance. Idiot. She could have been safely in the parking lot by now. Hoping to level the playing field, she rose to her feet. Useless. She still had to look up at him.

He met her gaze, and his smile faded. “You’ve been crying.”

“Yes, Sir.”

As his attention focused completely on her, she felt as if she were being blasted with a fire hose, destroying her balance and pushing her backward. His darkly tanned face turned stern. “I thought Vance and Galen would be good for you, Sally. I’m sorry to discover I was mistaken.”

“They were good—I mean, I think they’re trying to protect me.”

His eyebrows rose. “Indeed. Does that mean you are still with them?”

“Um, kind of?”

“Explain, please,” he said softly, an underlying anger threading his voice.

But she couldn’t let him be mad at her Feds. She chewed on her lower lip for a moment. “Because they told me to stay away, I thought I’d done something wrong, so I didn’t”—she felt the prickling of tears again—“I didn’t say anything. Didn’t argue. And they were at work, so…maybe that’s why they didn’t explain, and I’m not sure, but I think they’re sending me away to keep me safe.”

“I see.” His eyes filled with disapproval, and he was looking at her. “You didn’t tell them how you felt. Again.”

“N-no.” She pulled in a breath and fessed up. “I was going to just…just leave.” Without making them explain. Without fighting. “I’m an idiot.”

“Good relationships don’t have exit signs, pet,” Master Z murmured, confirming her statement. He put his arms around her and drew her close, wiping out her sense of failure. “Little one, now that you understand, will you be able to talk to them?”

“Yeah,” she whispered into his shirt. The strong arms around her were safety, reassurance, everything she’d never had from her father. Falling down in life was inevitable, and sure, a tough girl kept going anyway. But after collecting bruises and scraped knees, who wouldn’t cherish a helping hand or two? “Yeah, I definitely am.”

“Excellent. However, if they’re worried about your safety, you shouldn’t go there. I’ll arrange for them to come here tomorrow so you can talk.” He gave her a squeeze. “Good girl.”

His approval filled her sails, and she felt as if she were skimming over the water. With a contented sigh, she dared to hug him back.

Galen knew the photos of the cops, blackened and curled into fetal postures, and even worse, of the young brutalized woman, were going to haunt his dreams. Or nightmares.

Maybe he’d not bother to even attempt to sleep.

In the darkness, he walked the lakeshore path, checking their property for intrusions. A gray shadow in the night, Glock padded behind him, in case an evil rodent escaped the human’s scrutiny.

Galen shook his head. Glock had wandered the house earlier in search of the female who pampered him, carried him, and, even worse, included him in conversations.

When caught trying to explain Sally’s absence…to a cat…Galen had shrugged and given his partner a rueful grin. Did the imp know how much a part of their life she’d become? How she was changing them?

He sighed, fighting the longing to see her.

She was far safer away from him and Vance, but every instinct in his body urged him to keep her close where he could protect her.

His jaw tightened. Once he and Vance had reached home, they’d talked about her. And realized she hadn’t argued. That wasn’t like her.

And yet, he was relieved that she’d agreed so easily. Sally could raise stubborn to a whole new level. If she was so angry with them that she wasn’t talking to them, at least she wasn’t here in the kill zone, trying to change their minds.

The sound of a vehicle on the road made him turn. From the rumble of the engine, he’d guess it was a truck.

“Let’s go see who’s visiting, Glock.”

THE HOUSE WAS too quiet. Trying to work, Vance kept listening for Sally’s quick footsteps. The little submissive rarely walked slowly—sometimes he swore she actually vibrated with all that energy.

Fuck, he missed her already.

At a knock on the front door, he strode out to the foyer. This wouldn’t be Sally. She still had a key. But his hopes drove him into haste, and he swung the door open without looking.

A fist slammed into his jaw.

The force of the blow—and the flare of pain—knocked him back several steps. “What the hell?” Shaking his head to throw off the effects, he saw a man completely filling the doorway. “Cullen?”

“I warned you not to fuck with her.” Cullen took a step into the room.

“Hit me too.” From outside, Galen pushed past the furious Dom to stand beside Vance. “We both agreed to send her away.”

“You fucking assholes.” Cullen’s hands were still in fists. He took a step forward. “She’s beautiful, spirited, intelligent. And you hurt her badly.”

“Hurt?” The word was like a blow in Vance’s chest. “Maybe she’s angry that we told her to stay away, but—”

“Stay away?” Cullen growled. “You dumped her, and she blames herself. Thinks she did something wrong.”

Goddamn it all. “We didn’t—” He turned to Galen and saw matching alarm in his expression. “She thinks we dumped her?”

“Christ, no wonder she didn’t argue,” Galen muttered. He pulled out his cell.

Vance could hear the sound of ringing…and ringing…and the tinny voice mail response. His hands clenched. She’d turned her phone off.

Galen spoke into his phone. “Sally, we are not—I repeat—not breaking up. Try it and I’ll paddle your ass. Call me. Now.”

Cullen snorted, but a grin pulled at his wide mouth. “That was diplomatic.”

Fuck. Vance stared at his partner. “Next time, I do the talking, you asshole.” In fact, he’d call her himself and leave his own message.

“So why the hell did you pull that stunt to begin with?” Cullen asked. He leaned back on the door frame and crossed his arms, one immovable object not about to leave until he got answers. He looked at Galen. “Seriously, buddy, she’s really hurt.”

“Better she be hurt than dead,” Galen snapped.

“Dead.” Cullen straightened. “Explain.”

Despite the ache in his chest, Vance huffed a laugh. Mistake, friend. Never give Galen an opening like that. Another special agent once said Vance might charm his way into heaven, but given time and opportunity, Galen would talk his way out of hell.

Shaking his head, Vance headed for the kitchen to fetch beer. If he and Galen hadn’t been ordered to remain at home, he’d haul ass to Dan’s house so he could talk to Sally in person. Reassure her; comfort her.

Hold her. Jesus, fuck, he needed to hold her. He took out his phone and dialed Dan’s number.