AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Truth is universities need the money and one way or another that comes from students. They weren't going to say no to me.
Finding a place to stay was easy. It was weird having the amount of money I now had. I'd never properly understood how easy it makes everything. Not, We'll run a credit check and let you know and do you have first and last and cleaning? But Yes, of course, let me look.
There was a lot of activity for a couple days. Leaving Seattle behind. Establishing new accounts at new branches for savings and checking. Finding the place I wanted, hoping for furnishing, settling for having the stuff sent. Then dealing with the university which, as I'd expected, was more than happy to have me as an addition to their growing and exciting program of criminal justice.
Whatever. I was keeping all my options open but really the reason I wanted to graduate was for DEA. And whether or not UNLV had the greatest criminal justice program of all time or not I was going there because I was determined to live here.
I was trying really hard not to read anything into that. Why Vegas? Oh, because I'd stayed there and learned I liked it!
It had nothing to do with Cole St. Martin.
4
Cole
At the end of the second day, I gave up and left her a message. That Kie was free. That Kie may or may not still be dangerous to her. That she should take precautions.
It was a simple message until I messed it up. That if she wanted to come and stay on the compound, for any reason at any time, all she had to do was text and I'd send a car for her or come myself. That I wouldn't bother her again unless she wanted updates on the Kie situation.
Did she want updates on the Kie situation?
Would she update me if there came a significant contact from Kie?
There were no answers to any of my texts or voicemails.
I wondered where she was. If she was eating right. If she was okay. Wondering if she was eating right brought an unwelcome throb of heat. That was one of her habits we'd been working on correcting because so often she ate crap. Or nothing. There were a lot of times she'd make coffee and a piece of fruit a stand-in for breakfast, and reminding her to eat – forcing her to eat – punishing her for not eating… those things were very enjoyable.
So I thought about that as briefly as I could. Then I made myself go back to work.
Marilyn screamed. The girl could take amazing amounts of pain but right now she seemed to be screaming for no reason, the slightest touch setting her off.
"Cole!"
Wait. She never used my name. Arm upraised to deliver another strike with the Lexan cane, I stopped and stared at her.
It was obvious she'd safe-worded, maybe minutes ago. There was a strike across her torso, absolutely out of bounds, and it looked like it was close to being bloody.
I stopped instantly. Put the cane down on a stand nearby and helped Marilyn to her feet. When had she knelt? And if she had knelt, sure indication that she was done and needed care and rest, how had I raised the cane to strike again? Images of the flexible cane slashing down across her face made me feel sick.
"You're not here today," she said.
I opened my mouth to demand she go back to her knees and that she bow her head to the floor and beg me to forgive her that trespass. At the same time I realized how wrong that was. I was out of control. I'd ignored a safe word.
Not just ignored. I hadn't even heard it. I'd come very close to hurting her. What she'd said to me, there had been no accusation in her voice but there was fear. It made me sick to hear it. Making submissives afraid is what I do. But not like this.
She'd said my name because it was the only way she could get my attention.
I took her hand and helped her the rest of the way to her feet. Even so, I was wondering at the sudden penchant for submissives to call me by my first name, uninvited. Marilyn had used it to jolt me out of whatever headspace I'd fallen into. But Annie had done the same thing and she'd ended up leaving. Annie had used it to divorce herself from the submissive Annie who called me Sir. It had been a declaration.
Ariel had called me by name and wrapped herself around me and comforted me, all of that outrageously wrong in our dynamic.
I'd lost control because of Vincent and Kie, because of what happened to Annie. Ever since my space had been violated and my slave had been stolen I'd been in a rage, trying to get even.
I shot and killed Vincent Geddes, but so had Annie. She was a cop. She was a black belt. She'd hit him at the same time I shot him and there was no way to know which of us actually killed him, because her blow had driven the cartilage of his nose into his brain.
As vengeance goes, it was more than enough. He was dead, and the girl he'd stolen was one of the two people who killed him. The man he stole her from was the other.
But I wanted control. He took that from me and then died before I could do anything about wresting that back. He'd weaponized Kie, as well – already knowing she wanted to go after both me and Annie, he'd made it look like she was dead. Some other beautiful Asian girl had been shot in the face and left in place of Kie. Dead or not, Vincent had almost managed to kill both me and Annie with that one.
