Afterlife

Page 8

She"d been so rattled she"d left her purse at Leland Keller"s desk, but it didn"t matter. Any touch-up would look like clown makeup. Milo apparently had a hand the size of a tennis racket, for her cheek, eye and lip on the right side were swelling. The blouse had been stained with blood from the split lip.
The cotton T-shirt fell to her knees, almost hiding the rip in her slacks. Because one of her heels had broken in the parking lot and the other had been left behind, they"d also given her a pair of sneakers from the lost-and-found that were only about one size too big. She stuffed the broken shoe in the trash along with the blouse and came back out, following an officer"s direction to Sergeant Keller"s area.
He rose at the sight of her, gestured her to his guest chair. “You look better. Hot compresses and a good bath should help, a few aspirin.” He touched her face, tilting it away from him, and his jaw hardened. The way he touched her, so easy and confident, made her go still. Desperately, she told herself it was a police thing, the female perception of safety, protection. Believing anything else meant that she was going to have to tear out her mind, because it seemed the only way to stop it from going down this path over and over again.
While she believed in Fate, karma and the forces that drove destiny, she couldn"t possibly believe that suddenly Doms were everywhere, like a damn convention was in town. She"d gone years without meeting a single one outside of the Internet, after all. It was far more likely she was starting to hallucinate, like a crack addict snorting up everything from salt to talcum powder, or ground glass.
He released her at last, gave her a nod. “Yeah, you"ll be all right. That would be Milo"s handiwork there. They"re a hardcore pain club, miss. They dish it out without causing ER visits or police reports, mostly, but they sure as hell don"t observe enough of the rules for the things they do. It results in what you experienced tonight, among other things. I know you were pretty upset when I found you. Were you checking out the club…or were you lost and seeking directions?”
He asked it with a carefully straight face, giving her the out for her dignity, but she thought lying to a cop would be far more humiliating. “I was checking it out. I thought…” As her voice quavered, he pushed a hot cup of coffee into her hands. She clasped the warmth to her, inhaling the familiar scent of coffee beans. Something normal. “I made a mistake, is all.”
“That"s as may be, but a mistake shouldn"t lead to this.” He gestured to her face and general state. “I wasn"t just trying to spook Cyrus, miss. You have every right to file assault charges. They didn"t ask you for your consent, did they? Didn"t have you sign anything coming in the door or go over any safety restrictions, health issues?” She shook her head. “He asked for twenty dollars. I gave it to him. I guess a court would say that was consent. It doesn"t matter anyway. The fact I sought out a club like that would tell a judge or jury everything they"d want to hear. I"m not stupid, despite the fact I did something very stupid tonight.”
“Now, miss—”
“I overheard two of the female police officers talking about me when I went into the bathroom.” She made herself say it aloud. She needed to hear it, needed to write it on every mirror in her house, to remind her of the way it had felt, the way it all felt.
“„Stupid bitch wanted a man to beat her like a dog, and then chickened out. I"d have left her there."”
Drawing a breath, she straightened in the chair, though every bone in her body wanted to slump in defeated dejection. But she managed to sound calm, meet his gaze.
“I have no desire to expose my life to public ridicule, and this is the kind of story that court reporters love to stumble upon, don"t they?” Leland"s eyes had flashed, his glance snapping toward the exact two female cops, alarming her. But registering her tension, he spoke mildly, his shoulders easing a fraction. “They shouldn"t have said that. It"s just that a lot of people don"t understand what it is you"re seeking.”
She nodded wearily and rose, fumbling for her purse. “I"m one of them.” Drawing her pride around her as best she could, she extended a hand. “Thank you for your help, Sergeant Keller. I don"t care to file charges, and you won"t need to rescue me from such a place again. I can promise you that.”
He rose as well, clasping her hand rather than shaking it. He had golden-brown hair to go with those golden-brown eyes. He reminded her of a bear. A handsome, appealing bear, capable of impressive ferocity but also tenderness, like his touch now.
“I"ve tucked my card in your purse. If you need anything, or reconsider, you give me a call.”
She nodded again, but she was already pulling away. The need to get to her haven, to close the door on the whole world, was a steady cord reeling her toward home. She"d take a couple days off, have her backups fill in for her appointments and classes. She"d give herself forty-eight hours under the covers, with the drone of daytime TV and the stifled sound of her own sobs, and she"d pull it together again.
Then she"d renew her personal vow to herself. She"d never, ever go down this road again. She"d known better from the beginning.
* * * * *
After the pretty blonde left, Leland sat back down at his desk. It wasn"t exactly protocol to go through a victim"s purse, but when he"d tucked his card into the side pocket, he"d seen another card. He"d been bothered by her broken admission that there was no one else in her life, and so he"d sneaked a glance. After tonight"s events, it was the last name he would have expected to see there. When he dialed the number, Jon picked up before the second ring finished.
“Leland. What the hell? You know it"s one in the morning, right?”
“Don"t hand me that shit. You"re in that mad scientist home laboratory of yours, breaking all sorts of hazardous material laws to figure out how to turn the universe inside out. Or tuning up a device to give a woman so many orgasms in one go you"ll never lack for pussy again.”
“Been there, done that.”
“Oh yeah? Which one?”
“Both, of course. What"s your excuse for being at work so late? Shouldn"t you be in that dump apartment of yours, drinking your once-a-night beer and eating your convenience store nacho package before you go to sleep to ESPN recaps? Can"t imagine why some woman hasn"t snapped your exciting ass right up.”
“Blow me. No, I"m up because I just pulled a woman out of a tricky situation. A woman carrying your card in her purse. Rachel Madison?” Jon"s tone went from lazy insult to sharp attention, a knife striking stone. “Is she all right? Where is she?”
“She"s fine. Gone home and will likely sleep it off.” After a considering pause, Leland gave him the immediate details. There was the code he observed as a cop, and the code he observed as a Dom, and he didn"t mind bending the rules a bit in either direction when it made sense. When it was to protect someone who obviously needed some help.
“She said she had no one. Which I expected was true, since if I had a girlfriend and she went off to a place like that at all, let alone on her own, she wouldn"t sit comfortably for a week.” He let the statement hang out there, intending the mild note of accusation, but Jon"s instant response reassured him on that score.
“We"re not involved like that. But I was headed that way. I didn"t know she was there. It"s not going to happen again.”
The man typically emanated tranquil vibes like a damn lava lamp. The whip-taut tension Leland heard was a radical change. “Hmm. When I saw your card, I thought she might be one of your occasional sub-with-benefits friends. But you usually pick them smarter than that.”
“She"s smart. Just hasn"t figured out that part of things yet. You know how that can be, at the beginning.”
“Yeah.” Leland sobered. “Classy lady. She belonged in that crowd the way a swan belongs among a bunch of carrion eaters.”
“That"s been Club More"s MO since they opened. Don"t worry about them, Leland.
I"ll be passing on this tidbit to Matt tomorrow. By the end of the week, Ben"ll have dug up so many legal problems with the place they"ll have to convert to a Dunkin" Donuts.”
“Good. I like their coffee.”
“Damn it. This is my fault.” The sigh on Jon"s side was followed by an ominous tone. “It"s a mistake I"m going to fix.”
“Sounds good. But give her the night, Jon.” Leland paused, hesitating over the other part. Weighed the pros and cons, what he knew of Jon, what his gut told him, and said it out loud. “I ran a check on her. Pretty standard thing in this situation, but came up with something that happened four years ago. She was cleaning a gun and it went off. Grazed her neck, the bullet went through her window and lodged in the outer wall of the adjacent building. It was called in by a startled landlord when he heard the shot, saw her come out onto her balcony with blood on her neck and the gun in her hand. She looked a little out of it. It all got worked out, of course, and was logged as a simple accident, no harm done.”
Jon"s voice was tight. “She"s thorough and careful. Detail-oriented.”
“Yeah, well, everyone can make a mistake. But you"re already following the right track. The officer who was called out, a rookie, had a different take. No proof, so no action taken on it, just a sticky in the file. Anyhow, the kid thought it was an attempted suicide. Powell has good instincts. He"s in narcotics now. He took it upon himself to check on her a couple times after that, noted she seemed on a more even keel, had opened a yoga studio, so over time he assumed he was either mistaken or she"d gotten herself straightened out.”
The silence was long and weighted, and Leland"s brow creased. “You okay?”
“She"s a friend, Leland. And more than that.”
“Yeah, I get that impression.” Knowing the man"s nature as he knew his own, Leland had a pretty good idea what might be roiling in Jon right now. It was probably best for Rachel not to be exposed to it tonight. “I know you want to go be with her and take care of this, but trust me. If you don"t have a relationship in play between you yet, you"ll want to give her about a day. She"s pretty damn raw and vulnerable right now.