Bailey: Independence #1 (40 page)

“Slut? I am no man’s slut,” Bailey ground out with a little growl, watching as she parked the vehicle behind the large building. “He treats me like something precious. He certainly never hurt me like your clumsy, ham-fisted mistress did.”

“You ignorant little bitch. Don’t ever say something like that about my mistress.” Casey Fields swung her arm into the back seat as she threw the car into park. She was sorry she wasn’t in an official vehicle so she could slam the woman’s face into the grate.

Bailey pushed herself as far back against the seat as she could but knew she was only avoiding the crazed woman in the moment. She swallowed hard and watched her storm out of the vehicle, her hand out and grasping the back door handle at the same time the rear entrance to the club was opened.

“Casey!” The voice was hard and cold and matched the lifeless eyes staring from the enraged detective to the woman in the backseat of the car. “Do not mark her.”

“But she…” it took several long breaths before the detective had herself under control and nodded slowly toward the stern, dark expression. “Yes, Mistress.”

“I don’t care what she’s said to you. Now bring her inside, quickly,” she ordered with an angry glare at Bailey.

Pain was not her favorite item in the play, although Gabriel did make it erotic. So the brief thought to kick out and fight was just that, very brief. Bailey slid onto the concrete, stumbling on purpose and putting her shoulder into the detectives’ stomach.

“So you’re doing this because you flunked some software class? Don’t you think that’s a little on the extreme side, even for a dressed up dominatrix?” Okay, so much for wanting to avoid pain, Bailey thought as the palm swept across her face. She cried out and winced when the palm left her shoulder and gripped her ponytail.

“Shut up and get moving.” Casey Fields shoved her toward the open door, her mistress stepping to the side and quickly pulling the door closed behind them, turning the lock with a decisive click.

“You set me up to be murdered and you killed the wrong women,” Bailey said when the lights stopped flickering inside her head. Slowly she could see the pieces falling into place. “You murdered three people,” she whispered in disbelief.

Colin Whetstone slammed his hand on the steering wheel, the SUV he was in swerving and jerking to a halt at the back door.

“They took Bailey inside. I didn’t get through the fucking light in time.” He left his vehicle and pulled keys free before listening on the phone.

“They? Who the fuck else is there beside the detective?”

Colin described the other woman quickly, basically.

“Harbridge?” Gabriel swore to himself. “She’s part of this? Christ, I’m right behind you and the police are on their way,” Gabe told him.

“I’m going to sneak in the side entrance and get a point on them.” Colin snapped the phone closed and moved swiftly to the other side of the large building and the entrance marked ‘kitchen’.

He moved quietly, using his keys and pulling the door open just enough to slide through the opening before carefully letting it come to rest without locking it again. Keys were shoved very quietly into a snug front pocket of his jeans, his head up and senses open to sounds.

“I saved those sluts,” Janelle Harbridge informed Bailey loftily, dark lashes narrowed and eyes coldly focused. “You should have been first. The others would have followed just so we could frame Garrett.”

“Why? He’s never done anything to you.” Bailey kept her eyes flitting around as she was pulled forward, into the large main chamber and dragged slowly toward the stairs.

“He’s created this den of legalized prostitution,” Casey spoke and then hastily lowered her eyes when Janelle snapped the crop in her hands on the other woman’s thigh. “I’m so sorry, Mistress.”

“Keep silent, slave,” Janelle ground out with another snap of the crop.

“You come here,” Bailey said carefully. “People come here because they have things in common. Because they might get lucky and find someone to bond with and enjoy time with. I don’t know your sister’s story, but she had a choice…”

Bailey stumbled forward when the hard shove came in the middle of her back.

Janelle gripped the cuffed wrists and pushed them up when they reached the bottom of the curving staircase that led to the higher levels. She backed Bailey against the wide, solid newel and tapped the riding crop lightly against her cheek.

“You are a slave. You are a slave to that male. He ordered you to give me a bad review, didn’t he?” She leaned closer to Bailey, her head tilted to the side, nostrils flaring and eyes narrowed.

“You value yourself too highly,” Bailey said calmly. “He doesn’t even know you exist.” She should have braced for the slap but somehow missed the cue until her head bounced off the wooden newel behind her. She licked at the blood on the corner of her lip, defiance flaring in her eyes. “I am not his slave. I am his friend and lover. You did all this to frame him for murder. You’re both in need of some serious therapy.”

That time she ducked only to feel the crop against her shoulders. Her cry echoed through the empty rooms and halls.

“They’ll come for you. It doesn’t matter what you do to me. They’ll know it wasn’t Gabriel. He’s not the kind of man to hurt me like you’re doing now.” Bailey stiffened her shoulders, stumbling forward when her wrists were lowered and she was pulled up the first few steps. Her arms felt like they were being pulled out of their sockets and her shoulders ached where the crop had struck. But she was going to stall as long as she could.

Hoping…just hoping and trusting. She didn’t get the chance to tell him just how much she trusted him. With her heart and life.

“They’ll find you in the room I’ve prepared above and everything will point to Garrett,” Janelle assured her with another pull on the cuffs.

The metal dug into the bones on her wrists and Bailey really wished someone would notice the cars outside during the wrong time of the day.

“I’m sure he’ll miss her, Mistress.”

Casey Fields gave off a dry, cold laugh that sent shivers through Bailey and made her look around as they climbed slowly along the staircase.

“He’s at work in meetings with surprise clients. Surrounded by people and he’s safe,” Bailey said with a satisfied smile at the bitterly sharp curse from the woman wielding the crop. “You’ve managed to screw this up as bad as taking the software test a couple times. Have you always been this dumb?”

She was mildly grateful to shooter games and working with the new technology that had her ducking the swing of the crop that would have come crashing down across her face. She swayed slightly on the stairs, Casey’s body coming behind her to give her a shove over the top step and onto the landing.

Too many things were going through her head at once as she stumbled forward, crashing against the darkly dressed Domme and sending her into the wall with a thump.

Bailey knew that it was going to hurt and braced for the hit, keeping her head down and face turned away. She could see the boots Casey Fields was wearing when the riding crop slashed against the back of her knees.

Bailey watched the floor coming up to meet her and tilted her body just enough so her good knee caught the carpeting first. A tomboy long accustomed to a little rough playing, she rolled and used the wall to brace herself, bouncing to one foot and then up on both. She took off running down the long corridor, grateful for all the open doors. She went through the furthest one, stepping just to the side and waiting, trying to still her breathing.

Their footsteps echoed through the building, pounding and hard on the flooring. She didn’t know who would be the first one through the room and really didn’t care. She’d played hide and seek enough with her brothers to know the drill.

Bent in half, Bailey waited for the right sounds and used her shoulder to drive into the middle of the first person shouting and shooting through the doorway.

“God damned bitch! I’ll kill you!” Casey Fields came barreling through the wide doorway and met with the hard shoulder to the middle.

The sudden attack and weight Bailey threw behind her lunge sent the detective back against the opposite wall, her head up and striking one of the very heavy, very thick support beams.

Bailey was glad it was just enough to make her falter. She barely saw the woman shaking her head and reaching inside her jacket before she took off running again, this time making it to the top of the staircase.

But the momentum was too much for her. Unable to stop fully in time, she grimaced, lowered her head and let herself crash into the screaming Domme. Unbalanced, Janelle Harbridge teetered and went over the edge of the top step.

Bailey wasn’t sure how she managed, but she twisted to the back, threw her arms out and let her wrists loop over the top, rounded newel post. Pain at the pressure shot through her, making her scream out. That was the only thing that kept her from rolling head over tail down the staircase with the very surprised Domme.

Colin came running from below in time to hear the sickening crunch. The woman was unmoving at the bottom of the stairs and was definitely not getting up again. The glow of madness in her eyes died a lot slower as they stared sightlessly into the dim, empty club.

Gabriel Garrett, Lieutenant Natalie Templeton and a uniformed officer came from the other direction, all of them stopping by the body. Gabriel put a foot on the lowest step, about to run up the stairs when his arm was grasped by his friend.

Colin shook the slightly shaggy dark gold hair, his eyes gesturing to the top.

A shrill scream had ripped through the club. A random, angst ridden shot went off from the gun in her hand, the people on the lower level freezing in their approach.

“You bitch! You killed her! I’ll destroy you!” She spit furiously, grabbing Bailey by the hair and wrenching her from the newel post. The detective backed against the wall, the gun swinging wildly to the captive woman’s temple.

“Fields! Listen to me! You can’t get out of here! Don’t make any more bad choices! Come down the stairs and…” Natalie called up to her, her tone hard and level. Her stomach clenched as she watched the woman she had barely come to know and realized she knew nothing at all about her. “We have police on all the exits. Let Bailey go…”

“This is all her fault. She was supposed to die first,” Casey shouted back, keeping herself shielded by the thick wooden beam that stretched to the ceiling. “She killed my mistress.”

“It was an accident.” Bailey fought the tears from the grip on her hair. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

“No…you’re the bitch who ruined everything.” Dark eyes peered through her tears at the people gathered below. She had a good, clear shot. “But you’ll know what I’m feeling.” She had pulled Bailey close, her mouth near the woman’s ear. “I’ll make sure he dies slow and painfully…and you’ll feel every single second of it.”

Bailey felt her threat and followed where the other woman’s gaze had gone.

Straight to Gabriel. She felt the words shoot straight into her heart and shook her head.

“No…no, you can’t…it’s not his fault,” she said firmly, turning abruptly and shoving hard with her shoulder and all the strength she could throw behind her body into the maneuver. Every ounce of muscle and weight she had was thrown into the tackle, a startled gasp breaking free as they landed in a grappling heap on the floor.

Chapter Thirty-Four

The gun went off at the same time both of them crumpled to the floor. Bailey sprawled on the detective enough to give the people below the opportunity to rush the stairs.

Colin managed to get there first, his foot down and on the wrist of the woman holding the gun until the lieutenant took over. He stepped back, his heart thumping hard against his ribs. He’d seen too many people killed in his life. He’d also been with far too many people left behind and hurting with a pain they couldn’t put into words and he was completely helpless to stop. His gaze swept to the torment on the face of one of his best friends and he ached for him.

“Paramedics!” Natalie Templeton shouted into a communicator clipped to her jacket at the same time she threw Casey Fields to her stomach and jerked her hands behind her back. “Read her her rights and get her into a patrol car. Don’t leave her alone!” She issued orders to the uniformed officer that had come up behind them. “I want paramedics in here now!” She shouted again, stopping to breathe only when she saw her husband racing up the stairs with one of the paramedics. She knew he often rode along to help implement the new training protocols and was never so glad to see him before in her life. “Oh, God, Tre!”

“Bailey.” Gabriel had dropped to his knees at her side, the deep, darkness spreading from the wound just beneath her left breast. “Oh, god, baby…”

“It’s okay,” Bailey whispered, her head nodding slowly. Lots of lights suddenly, she thought with a little smile. Lots of lights. Fluttering, zipping little fireflies. “It’s okay, Gabriel. You’re safe…and I got to love you for a little bit…just enough to love you…” she whispered before all the lights blended into nothing.

Tre Thorne had dropped to the other side, his head gesturing to their friend who pulled Gabriel away, barely.

“Let me take care of her, Gabe.” Tre began opening her shirt, cutting away fabric and cleaning the blood, working to get it stopped. “Get him below and meet us at the hospital. He doesn’t need to be here,” he started calling out orders to the other medic, things appearing and the pale form lifted to the gurney minutes later.