Past the rectangular bar set in the middle of the floor, the stage features a Dom I don’t know using a crop a sub restrained to a padded bench. The usual urge I have to find a willing sub is missing. Over the past few years, I’ve lost any motivation to participate in meaningless scenes. Only one woman should feel the impact of my present frustration, but she’s in Colorado. Stone guides us to a booth, and I slide in.
The last time Amelia Kincaid, now Davis, and I shared a scene, I almost convinced her to come home with me.
If I’d known it would be our last time together at the club, I might have pushed harder. But then I wouldn’t have been able to skirt the rule about being involved with her case. As it is, I stretched the rules way too far to pass scrutiny.
Four other Doms saunter over to our booth. Alex shuffles in next to me. In his slow Texas drawl, he asks, “What’s up, Master T? You look like you got kicked by a mule.”
I hesitate for a second. Alex may be young, but he’s an old soul and someone I count as a trusted friend. “You remember Mia?”
He nods and takes a pull off his bottle of beer.
“She’s in danger.”
Seated between his business partners, Cade and Eliot, Blake puts his forearms on the table, and his sun-bleached hair flops forward. “I thought she moved away years ago. How could you know she’s at risk?”
“I’ve kept tabs.” I can’t say more without disclosing all the rules I’ve broken. Stone likely suspects, but the man is a vault.
Eliot stretches his six-foot frame back in the chair he’d pulled up to the booth. He eyes me, calculating. His curly hair is clipped close to his head in a fade, his nails perfectly manicured, and his black shirt tucked neatly into dark denim. A shadow except for those piercing hazel eyes that are surgically taking me apart.
“Theoretically, I don’t know where she is.” Though she’s technically no longer in WITSEC, I still hesitate to speak about her location in public.
Eliot crosses his arms, his gaze still locked on me. “Theory.” He snorts. “Go to where you don’t know she is and bring her home. That’s what we’d do.”
Blake and Cade nod.
Bringing my sweet sub back to St. Louis would put her closer to the Brambilla family, so that doesn’t seem like a good idea. It would only make the bad guys’ job easier because, unlike my boss, I know the mob still has a hard-on for her. And if I go out there, knowing she’s no longer under federal marshal protection, it would be impossible to leave.
“She’s not in Missouri,” I admit.
“Figured as much.” Eliot shrugs.
“Whatever you decide,” Stone says, “we have your back. If you need us—”
“We’re there, dude.” Alex smacks his bottle on the table like a judge’s gavel.
Slowly, Eliot moves forward, putting his elbow on the table and resting his chin on his fist. “We can provide security.” His deep voice rolls across the table like fog. “The three of us. Reed’s on an extended bodyguard contract.”
I swallow down the gooey feelings choking me at all this loyalty. Knowing I have backup makes my decision easier. I’ll call her on Monday and set some guidelines to hold her over until I can explain in person.
* * *
In my office,I make an X on the calendar that hangs on my wall.
“Counting the days, I see.” McCarty leans on my doorjamb with his thermal coffee cup clutched in his hand. He’s been a good boss, but the urge to deck him has me tapping my red marker against the desk. “I came by to ask if you’re sure about retiring. Hard to replace agents as cool-headed and dedicated as you.” He shrugs. “Guess there’s no changing your mind?”
He should have reminded himself how valuable I was to the agency when he denied my vacation request. I force an easy smile. “Nope.”
Only five more days to go. A plane ticket sits in my personal email. My checked luggage is already packed, so I only have to fill my carry-on. The rental car will be waiting at the Denver airport. One more week and I’ll be able to see her in person for the first time in…almost a year. I can’t believe I haven’t been to Alabaster in over ten months. Not since I last had a vacation request approved. It’s well past time to retire, even if taking care of this issue with Amy is temporary.
I’ll go out there and set her up with more security and maybe another new identity. New location. I have no reason to believe she wants me. Despite watching over her for years, she’s hasn’t reciprocated my attraction. Once she’s safe and secure, I can figure out what I want to do next. Maybe I’ll take up fishing or golf or model trains like a million other old guys. Except at forty-seven, I don’t feel old yet, and I’ve only ever been an agent.
The empty doorway to a sterile hallway captures everything wrong with my life. After I leave here, no one will wait to see if I come in. Fuck. I shake off this existential hangover and log into my computer.
A red banner with an alert triangle in the header smacks me in the face, and dread ties my stomach in knots. I click it, expecting to be on a plane coordinating a team in the next hour. Who knows how many days I’ll be on-site dealing with the latest disaster.
Alert. Document filed with Internal Revenue Service.
IRS? What the…?
