Page 23 of Boneyard HEA

“Welcome to my den of iniquity.”

He opens his arms and we exchange a quick brotherly hug.

“Chamos, what have you done with her while I was away?” I laugh. “Where is she?”

“You’ll see. I might tell you.” He grins. “You’re as interested in her as I am. Got you by the balls?”

“The dick, maybe.”

We pace down his long hallway, cut to the right toward the courtyard. Lucy races up and bounces almost into my arms, so I pat her enthusiastically—there is no other way to pat a crazy dog like her. “Such a good dog!”

She trots alongside with a ball in her mouth as we pass the fountain and head to the house’s opposite wing.

Juniper is in the entertainment-slash-living room, kneeling on the floor and wearing one of the see-through dresses Aaron often gives his temporary subs when he has them at the house. The longest he keeps them is about a month. This one, maybe less, considering she almost has a death wish.

The room seems to hold its breath when I recall that.

That red collar still binds her neck, and she’s leashed to an anchor point beside the sofa.

She half-smiles at me. Behind me, Aaron leaves the glass door open to the courtyard and Lucy enters and flops onto the rug beside this woman. She gets patted, of course. The dog is irresistible.

Juniper is the same. Simply seeing her mouth, those big eyes, remembering how fucking crazy she was to kill Nathan, it makes me want to fuck her stupid. Am I attracted to this guerrera? Of course. No matter her fierceness, this one will not be controlling us.

At my side, I curl my hands into fists then uncurl them. Aaron sits behind Juniper, caging her with his legs.

I eye them all, the dog with the tongue lolling out that radiates happiness, the murderous woman hugging Lucy’s neck, and this friend of mine who made this girl some promises he might regret.

I don’t want any of them hurt.

“The video?” I ask him.

“Play it.” He nudges the girl.

Juniper searches the floor, finds a phone and presses play. I sit next to Aaron and try to look shocked as it unspools or, at the least, surprised.

I am both of those. This is it. This is the video I took from the drone, but a small section of it. The one I sent on to Karsten. I may have deleted it off my devices, but it is the same one.

I cannot tell him this. I don’t have clearance to do this and may never get it from Karsten. I don’t know why he had me take it even. For fun? I doubt it.

“And do you think that was rape not CNC?” I gesture at the TV screen.

“That’s my question too. They almost drowned her, and she’s affected by drink, drugs, or both. I don’t know but they were careless of her safety.”

Juniper says quietly, “I always suspected she had some sort of brain damage from the drowning. It took her days to report it.” Her eyes are swimming with unshed tears when she reclines her head to look up at me.

I grunt, noncommittally. I’ve interrogated people. I’ve killed under orders and to save my own skin, but this feels worse. I never knew how my sister or parents died except that it was the hands of my colleagues in the secret police, and it happened after I reported something a smart man would walk past, but it ate at my conscience. I suspect their deaths were worse than this. I never saw them again. Their bodies vanished.

None of that helps me to lie. I can do it, but the scars of the past haunt me. I fled the country and I am here, free, and they are gone, and what am I doing? The same I always did—obey, obey orders and do not question.

The silence has stretched for too long.

I shrug. “We cannot tell, cannot say whether yes or no, this is rape. You need more than this.”

“Agree.” Aaron leans back, uses his legs across Juniper’s front to pull her into the V of his legs and the sofa’s edge. Casually he drapes a hand over her neck, then grips the collar and turns it, as if he is saying ‘we have you now,’ I guess. Is that him being reassuring? What happened while I was away? I have missed something, maybe.

Sex can bring more than orgasms. It gives a connection that helps center you. It brings benefits, for me, maybe for her. The remains of tears are there, but she’s rapt in him trapping her like that.

I lean closer and cup her chin so she must face me. “One cannot ignore a beautiful woman like you. Those tears? You should cry only when you must. Life is to be lived while we have it. Take the joy.” I release her, make a fist. “You must seize the joy when you can because it saves us from misery.”