Page 39 of Boneyard HEA

“Let’s get her over there. I think naked would be good. Before you stand you will kiss our shoes and say, thank you for not doing anything worse than what we are about to do.”

“Oh.” Her eyebrows do a small wiggle then she hurriedly says, “Thank you for being kind.” And she leans over and does as I asked—kisses our shoes.

Kind, not sure this will be kind, but it will be satisfying. “Up.”

Slowly, she gets to her feet and wraps her arms about herself.

“Naked?” I ask Tomás.

He stirs from whatever fugue state he was in. She has both of us thinking in circles.

“Yes. I’ll strip her.” He goes to her and pulls down one strap of the dress, circles behind her and does the other side, roughly dragging the garment partway to her waist. The rope stops it falling further.

“I’m not cutting my rope. Do the dress.” I get a few things from the bag and toss a knife to him. “Be very still, Miss Fucktoy.”

She grimaces at the label.

“You don’t get to be called by your name until you pay the price of your sins.”

“Sins?” she scoffs then spits out, “You owe me those clues.”

“You were supposed to obey. Do that to earn the clues. You just earned a gag.”

Except Tomás has lowered the knife and he comes to me. He flips the knife out, handle first, offers it. “Before we do this, I have something to say.” He looks about. “Somewhere private.”

“What? Okay. I guess. Like a room?” I’ve no idea what this is, but if he wants to do this, it’s important. Juniper is standing half-stripped, the loops of dress material slipped down her arms, and looking as uncertain as I am feeling. “Bring her.”

After I take the knife, he scoops her dress back into place then leads her with the rope. I make sure he’s following as I stroll along the wall, checking for a vacant room. The fifth door along has a green looped tag on it. “In here.”

Like all these rooms it has a super king-size bed, a sofa and two armchairs, and nice décor, with a small bathroom. I’ve seen better ones in the castles in Europe. Still, it’s nice. I pat the bed, and he gets Juniper to sit next to me, but he remains standing. “What is it?”

“Wait. The clamp.” He drops to one knee, pushes his hand beneath her dress while she watches with her face already tensing. A second later, she flinches, and he pulls his hand from underneath, with the clamp in hand. “I’d kiss it better but maybe later.” At least his sense of humor has returned. He stands and takes a step back, puts the clamp in his pocket.

When this man is serious, the world is off kilter. He’s escaped murder squads and death camps, crossed leaky borders in South America with only what he could carry in a backpack, and I only know the broader details, and he did not panic.

“Spit,” I tell him.

“First, Karsten is still going to want her punished. What I say to you must not change that or he will suspect something.”

“Uh huh. Within reason, sure. I’m not his lapdog.” What is he about to say?

“Also.” He heaves in a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I really wasn’t sure this should be said, but things feel wrong, and I trust those. Gut feelings saved my life, many times.”

“You’re building this up, man. Say it. We’re friends.”

“I know, and I am grateful, chamos. Here it is. Do not hate me, please.”

It’s Juniper he’s addressing that plea to, the girl we are supposed to be mind-fucking and having fun with. Makes me wonder who is mind-fucking who.

“I won’t. Except for this. Ouch.” She palms where her clit must be through the dress.

A woeful grin briefly appears. “Not sorry for that. But, my news.” He bows his head, makes a praying motion then clutches his hands to his chest. “I did a job for Karsten, two years ago.”

“Oh no,” whispers Juniper.

That timing does not sound good. “Wait.” I hold up my hand. “Are we sure this is…” I point at the ceiling, eye the darker niches, the wall mirror.

“Yes, we are sure. Your fraternity would never. I would have heard.”