Sweet Surrender

CHAPTER 13

Gray parked his truck outside the office and cut the engine. It was late. Ten o’clock on a Friday night. Everyone likely had plans that didn’t involve being anywhere near the business office. Which was why he was back.

He slid out of the truck and looked warily right and left. He hadn’t bothered to park around back, because if he was seen, he didn’t want to appear as though he had anything to hide. If Pop or one of the others happened by, he could always say he’d forgotten something.

Welcome, cool air hit him square in the face as he stepped inside the dark building. He disabled the security system before he took a step forward, and then, not bothering to turn on the lights, he headed down the hallway toward his office.

Waiting had been aggravating, but he couldn’t listen to the playback of Faith’s conversation until he was damn sure no one was around, and he wouldn’t risk discovery. He walked to his desk and inserted the key into the lock he’d changed so only he’d have access.

He sat down and pulled out the small digital recording device. He skipped through several routine phone calls before he finally came to the one he wanted. As Faith’s mother’s voice aired through the recording, he leaned forward, intent on deciphering every sound, every word.

When he got to the part where Faith asked her mother, “Who was that?” he stopped and backtracked to listen again. On the third attempt he could make out the male voice in the background and the threat he’d issued. Samuels. It had to be.

He listened on and flinched at the raw emotion in Faith’s voice, her low sobs as they filtered into the quiet night air around him. He now knew without a doubt that there was no way Faith was a willing participant in any plan Celia Martin and Samuels had hatched.

It was telling how relieved he was, but it also made him uneasy that he was deceiving an innocent woman. She was being used by her mother, and she was being used by him.

Fuck.

He stuffed the recorder into his desk and locked it. Then he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the polished wooden surface. He ran both hands through his hair and closed his eyes in frustration.

Was her mother on her way here? Would she exploit the fact that Pop had paid her off in the past? And would she even bother involving Faith, or would she use Pop’s desire to protect Faith against him?

Hell of a mess. So many lives involved. And justice was at the heart of the whole cluster fuck. Alex was dead. His killer had to pay.

The end justified the means. If Alex’s killer was put away, all of this would be worth it. Even Faith’s anger.

If he was truly convinced of this, why then did guilt weigh so heavy on him? Why did he picture Faith’s sweet smile, remember the feel of her skin against his, her lips on his? And why did he want more?

It was stupid and foolhardy to initiate any sort of romantic entanglement with her. He snorted. Romantic? Who said anything about romantic? Last he checked, wanting to fuck a woman’s brains out wasn’t construed as romance.

He had a lot of thinking to do. He needed to call Mick so together they could come up with the best plan of action. Gray still wasn’t convinced that he and Mick were handling this just right, but with Billings brushing them off and not devoting the resources necessary to bring Alex’s killer to justice, Gray didn’t see that they had a lot of choice in the matter.

He shoved back from his desk, stood, then headed for the door. As he passed Faith’s office, he halted and backtracked. He may as well make sure the tap was still securely in place in case the mother called again.

Moving swiftly, he walked around her desk in the darkness and turned on the small desk light so he could see. He examined her phone and made sure everything was to his satisfaction. Then he made sure everything on her desk was as he’d found it. His gaze flickered across her open day planner as he reached for the button on the light.

His hand stilled, and he pulled it away as he read the entry circled in red. The House. 11:00 P.M. Friday night. It was written on today’s date, and below was an address in north Houston.

The name was familiar to him, and he searched his memory for why. He could swear it was the name of the kink club Micah had gone on about one day over lunch. But why on earth would Faith be making plans to visit if they were one and the same?

He opened her drawer and yanked out a pen and a piece of paper from a notepad. He scribbled the address down then closed the drawer again. After turning the light off, he hurried back to his own office where he turned his computer on.

He drummed his fingers impatiently as he waited for it to boot. As soon as the screen lit up with his desktop icons, he clicked on the browser and went to a search engine page.

There, he typed in the name and address he’d lifted from Faith’s planner and waited for the results. When he clicked on the first link, he bit out a curse. Faith’s house and Micah’s were one and the same. Somehow Gray knew that Faith wasn’t a regular member, because surely that wouldn’t have escaped Micah’s notice.

What the fuck was she doing making an appointment at a freaking kink club? Did she not have a clue what went on there? Hell, he’d never set foot in the place, but the things Micah had talked about were more than enough to paint a vivid picture in Gray’s mind of what happened behind those big wrought-iron gates.

Which could only mean she had no idea what she was getting into. And the idea of another man putting his hands on her made him feel slightly murderous. He didn’t even want to get into the whys and wherefores of that particular quirk.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” Gray muttered. “Get a grip.”

He ought to call Pop and let him or Connor deal with it. But as quickly as that thought popped into his head, he tossed it aside. He wasn’t a kid busting a gut to run and tattle, for God’s sake. Faith was a grown woman. Maybe she was doing a little experimenting. No need to embarrass her by having her brother haul her out of the place.

Which left him. No way he could let her walk into that kind of situation. She was sweet. Far too innocent for the likes of what a place like The House offered its patrons. Shit, knowing his luck, she’d end up as someone’s damn sex slave for the night.

That thought propelled him to his feet. He was out the door in a few seconds. He fumbled with the security codes on his way out before he strode out to the parking lot and his truck.

He flipped open his cell phone and punched in Micah’s number. The damn club was exclusive, and he couldn’t get in without Micah’s help. Hell, he might not get in anyway. But he’d damn sure see if could.

He tried Micah’s home number and his cell without any luck. Growling in frustration, he stepped on the accelerator and headed toward the apartment complex.

When he whipped into the parking lot a few minutes later, he saw Micah’s truck parked outside his unit. Faith was already gone.

He hopped out of the truck and hurried up to Micah’s door. He knocked loudly and waited. When Micah didn’t immediately come to the door, he pounded harder.

A few seconds later, the door jerked open, and Micah stood in the doorway holding a towel around his waist. He glared at Gray. “This better be damn good, Montgomery.”

Before Gray could respond, he heard a female voice in the background ask Micah who it was. Micah turned and held out a placating hand. “Give me just one minute, babe.”

Gray sighed. Interrupting Micah during sex couldn’t be all that uncommon, considering the guy had a girl over every other day. He didn’t have time for this shit.

Micah turned around to stare at him again, his scowl ferocious. “Now what the fuck do you want?” he demanded.

“I need you to get me into The House or whatever the fuck it is you call it.”

Micah blinked several times. His mouth popped open, and a look of incredulity spread over his features. “You came over here at eleven damn o’clock at night because you’ve got an itch you want to scratch?”

“Not me, dumb-ass. Apparently Faith has an appointment there. As we speak.”

Micah’s expression rapidly changed from annoyance to sharp interest. He held up his hand. “Whoa. Wait a minute. Faith is going to The House?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” Gray said impatiently. “Is there any way you can get me in? Pull some strings or something?”

Micah ignored Gray’s question and shook his head in confusion. “What the fuck is she doing going there? That’s no place for a girl like her.”

Gray threw up his hands and growled in frustration.

“Okay, okay, look,” Micah said, holding both hands up in appeasement. “Let me get dressed. I’ll head over there to see what the fuck is going on.”

“No.”

Micah looked up in surprise.

“I’ll go. You just get me in there,” Gray said emphatically. “Besides, you’ve got company to entertain. I’ll take care of Faith.”

Micah gave him a long, assessing look. His eyes narrowed, and he frowned. “What the hell is going on between you and Faith?”

Gray sighed. They were wasting a hell of a lot of time. “Nothing is going on between me and Faith. I was just concerned when I learned where she was going. I don’t think she has a clue what she’s getting into. I don’t want to see her get hurt.”

“On that we agree,” Micah said. “You head over there. Do you know where it is?”

Gray nodded.

“Okay, you go. I’ll call over and arrange for you to get in. I’m good friends with the guy who owns it.”

Gray turned without responding and hurried back out to his truck. He felt a little foolish making such a big deal out of this, and he’d risked looking an even bigger fool by coming over to Micah’s like this, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that Faith was in way over her head.