Going Down (21 page)

Another weight materialized. “But you call him master.”

“I have to. Otherwise he'll punish me.”

“As I'm doing?”

“I just want to survive, to live.”

“Even if you spend the rest of your life as his possession? Is it worth it?”

Careful. Don't say the wrong thing.
Her attention split between Reeve and Paul, she fought the hot pleasure/pain that had clamped hold of her. “I don't want to die. He—he's—at least he isn't cruel. His cock—even though I don't want it, I love the feel of it inside me.”

“So maybe you're thinking the trade-off might be worth it? Being his slave means you get what you want, at least some of the time.”

“I don't know. I never imagined—never thought this—what do you want me to say?”

“Maybe nothing.” Paul patted her breast, causing a ripple of sensation to run through her. Moaning, she pressed her thighs together. “Ah, I think we're getting at something here.” He patted her other breast, forcing her to arch her back. “A bitch in transition. Leaving one existence and entering another.” He swung toward Reeve. “You ever want to sell her, let me know.”

“Sell? Maybe you'll take her from me.”

“Always thinking, aren't you?”

“Just facing facts, or should I say a matter of at least three against one.”

“We don't operate that way, unless there's no other option. Reeve, until we know what we're operating with, we'd be foolish to attempt double-crossing you in any way, wouldn't we?”

“You tell me.”

“We'd prefer you tell us,” Ty broke in. “If the tables were turned, wouldn't you be suspicious if someone you were investigating appears not to have existed prior to when he started his business? Your social security number—which we obtained from a mostly legitimate source—that particular number was never issued. How do you account for that?”

“I don't. That's your issue.”

If the men were surprised by Reeve's answer, they gave no indication. “We have access to a couple of the most professional private investigative agencies in the country and neither of them came up with the college you graduated from.”

“Because I didn't.”

“A self-made man? One so intelligent he had no need for the institute of higher education?”

“It appears that way, doesn't it.”

The questioning continued with all three men demanding to know about various aspects of Reeve's background, but he refused to answer any of the questions. He wouldn't say where he was born or raised, who his parents were, or whether he had any siblings. Every refusal was punctuated with a simple comment. He was an intensely private individual and determined to keep it that way, which he could thanks to the resources available to those with the money to pay for them. Because he'd sold his company, he was no longer a member of the business community. He paid his taxes but under what social security number he refused to say, and as long as he continued to do so, the government had no interest in him. As a result, he spent his time and money as he saw fit and indulged in what he called his personal interests, currently taking a human being and molding her into what he wanted.

“As I said—” Giving an impatient sigh, he stood. “You can either accept or reject what I'm willing to reveal about myself. And unless you pull a gun on me and use it, my property and I are leaving, now.”

The seemingly simple act of standing snagged her attention. Yes, being restrained had made it hard for her to concentrate on the details of what he'd been telling or rather not telling the others, but how had she forgotten how damnably masculine he was?

After presenting Paul with a stare that caused the other man to move aside, Reeve removed the clips from her breasts. Before renewed blood circulation could make her cry out, he expertly massaged her nipples. Then he triggered whatever had forced her arms over her head. In a few seconds she was able to lower them to her side. Despite her gratitude, however, she knew better than to let that distract her from her role as Reeve's possession.

“I'm sorry things didn't work out to our mutual advantage,” Reeve said to the trio. “I believe we would have found common ground. But I'm not willing to give up my anonymity and you're unwilling to take me at face value.”

Jeffrey stood. “Don't be so sure things won't work out. You are intrigued by what we have to offer, aren't you?”

“Which is?”

“A common interest in the ownership of beautiful female flesh
and
more experience in training that flesh than you have. You want her obedient without being broken, don't you—spirited and devoted at the same time.”

Reeve cocked his head.

“We can and are willing to aid in your education.”

“In exchange for what?”

A appreciative smile touched Jeffrey's thin mouth. “Spoken like a man of wealth who's learned that everyone wants a piece of the pie. Perhaps we're interested in how you managed to bury your childhood so we can do the same ourselves.”

“It can be done, if the reason is strong enough.”

E
ven once they were back at the desert house and sitting in the living room, Saree was still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that those men had let them go. She shivered as the air-conditioned air hit her, then, folding her hands in front of her naked cunt, studied Reeve. He still turned her on; maybe she should accept that as a permanent condition. He'd removed her restraints once they were several miles from Segun, but except for telling her that he was impressed by how well she'd held herself together, he hadn't said much. Back then she'd had no interest in breaking the silence, but that was no longer true.

“What you said,” she began, “about being able to bury parts of your life if the reason is strong enough. It sounded—were you really talking about your childhood?”

He didn't answer, but because she'd learned to read his eyes, he didn't need to. “You were. That's where the whole secrecy thing began, your childhood.”

“Let it go.”

He held all the power so she'd be well advised to do just that, but how could she when this might be her only chance to break through the mystery surrounding him. “What was it? You got into trouble, maybe wound up in juvenile detention, and decided you needed to close the door to that chapter in your life if you were going to make something of yourself? That was the only way you could get banks to finance your business?”

“There was no business.”

Too much. Damn it, too much.

He was walking around the expensively furnished room, not because he was interested in the contents but because he didn't know what to do with his energy. She felt the same way, no wonder given what she'd been through tonight. And given who she shared the space with. This man who'd locked a collar around her neck had become her world.

Casting aside all caution, she positioned herself in front of him. Nude and nearly a foot shorter than he, she had to be crazy to think she could stop him. But she had to try. “Thank you,” she whispered.

He stood a few feet away, big and strong and everything. “For what?”

“Paul wanted to put me in a cage the same as he had his slave. I know he did. You could have let him.”

Dark emotions rolled through Reeve. She willed herself to wait them out. “No, I couldn't.”

She'd already known that but wanted to hear the explanation from him, so she took his hand and placed it at her throat. Yes, the current, still there, still dangerous and heady. “I fascinated them. Letting us leave together was the last thing they wanted to do.”

“But they did because we all know there's going to be a next time.”

“I don't want to talk about that.”

“You have to. Amber—”

“I know! Amber.” Her hold on him tightened. “Don't you think that makes me sick? Not just Amber but the others as well. Imagining them in cages or—it's a nightmare.”

“Yeah, it is.”

What was that look in his eyes? Could it possibly be he felt as trapped as she did? “Why won't you say anything about your childhood?” she asked the stranger who'd taken over her world. “After everything you know about me, the way you're using me to get close to those disgusting men—I deserve something.”

His fingertips began stroking her throat.

“You know I do,” she pressed instead of putting safe distance between them. “You ripped me from my life and all I get is this?” She covered his hand with hers.

“My father was a monster, Saree. Less than human. I wanted nothing to do with him. Fortunately, I found a man who could make that happen.”

Feeling as if she'd been punched in the gut, she stumbled over to the nearest chair and slumped into it. “A monster.”

“I'm not going to speak his name because that's a vow I intend to keep for as long as I live. After he murdered my mother, he hunted down her brother and parents and did the same to them. Then he killed the first policeman who tried to stop him.”

Reeve paced, stopped, and then paced some more as he spun out a nightmarish tale of a man who believed he had the power of life and death over people. Reeve had been twelve years old when his father destroyed so much. Although Reeve didn't spell it out, because his eyes took on a hunted look that tore at her, she had no doubt that the twelve-year-old he'd once been had seen some of the victims of the monster's rage. Reeve believed he would have died the day his mother did if he hadn't been with friends. He'd been taken into protective custody until his father was arrested and then taken to a foster home, but the authorities had decided he couldn't stay there because according to jailhouse rumors, his father was trying to have him killed so he couldn't testify about years of physical and emotional abuse. The authorities' solution had been to get him into a witness protection program. He'd surfaced only long enough to answer a day's worth of questions about what life with a dictator had been like.

The media frenzy had nearly done him in, and although he'd hated leaving familiar surroundings and his newly widowed aunt who loved him, he believed he owed his sanity to the man who'd buried his old identity. Not only did that middle-aged refined and determined man build a life for him in a different state, he'd arranged for therapy and would have financed his college education if that's what Reeve had wanted. When Reeve told him that sitting in a classroom for the next four years would be like being in prison, the man had presented Reeve with an option.

Reeve would become the youngest member of The Clan

“Have I regretted it?” Reeve said. “Sometimes, like now, yes. But I believe I've accomplished a lot of good, maybe enough to make up for what my old man did.”

Saree couldn't say how long she'd been sitting there listening to him talk while a lifetime's worth of emotions were born and died and were reborn in Reeve's eyes. All she knew was she'd never felt closer to another human being. She wanted him. Hell yes, she needed his body molded to hers and their hearts beating like racehorses, but this went far deeper than sex.

He was no longer just her captor, her
master,
the man who'd taken her deep into her own heart and emotions where the truth of her lay. Tonight at least, he'd become her everything.

Reeve had remained on his feet while telling her what he had, but suddenly it was as if the air had escaped him. Slumping into a chair, he rested his head against the back. A moment later his breathing slowed and deepened, making her wonder if he'd fallen asleep. Not long ago she would have pondered whether she could grab the keys and escape, but she couldn't leave him now.

“Tired,” he muttered. “So damn tired.”

“Get some sleep.”

He opened his eyes but didn't lift his head. “Without making sure you're still here when I wake up?”

“I will be.”

He was turning her words around in his mind; she saw the task in every line of his body.

“Believe me,” she said. She could have brought up Amber and the other slaves, but this was no longer about them.

He wanted to ask her why she'd made this decision, but to her relief, he didn't. Gathering what remained of her strength, she forced herself to stand. “I'm going to get a shower, and then I'm going to bed. Morning—everything can wait until then.”

“Not everything.”

You want to have sex? Do either of us have the energy?

“What about your sister?”

Hayley. Until tonight the most important person in her life. “What about her?”

“Call her.”

It was incredible what two words could do. Although she was still exhausted, she found the strength to face him. “What am I going to tell her, Reeve? What will you allow me to say?”

“Everything.”

 

Two minutes later she was listening to the phone ring at the small house and studio Hayley and Mazati lived in. Hayley's jewelry-making business had become so successful that they'd been talking about moving into a larger place, but house hunting had taken a backseat to simply being together. It was Friday night, wasn't it? Maybe they were chasing each other around the rooms.

Someone picked up a receiver. There was a brief pause. “Saree?” Hayley breathed.

“Sis!” And then she was crying. “I'm sorry,” she said when she trusted herself to speak. “I didn't mean to break down. You're all right?”

“Me? What about you?”

I don't know. That's the hell and wonder of it, I don't know how I am.
Mindful of but not constrained by Reeve's presence, she again told her sister that she was all right. “I'm in the middle of something,” she added. “I can't tell you everything now but hopefully soon.”

“Of your own free will?”

She closed her eyes, went deep into herself for the truth. “Yes.”

“Are you certain? What you told me about being involved in something important—what something? And that BS about you embracing BDSM that's on your Web site, you know I'll never buy that.”

“You should. I've changed. Or maybe I should say I've learned some things about myself that I never expected.” Not bothering to hide any part of her naked body from Reeve, she slid her free hand between her legs. “I don't know why I always said I'd never let any man really put a collar on me. There are aspects of—there's something about—hell, part of me wants to turn everything over to a man and let him do what he wants to me.”

“You're serious, aren't you.”

“Yeah, I am. That's separate from what I'm committed to accomplishing, and yet I don't think I would have ever learned what I have about myself if it wasn't for that.”

“I'm not sure I follow you. What is this thing you're going to accomplish? So far you haven't told me squat.”

Although she gathered her thoughts so she could answer her sister, in truth, the words were for Reeve's sake. And hers. As briefly and superficially as possible, she told her sister about The Slavers. Although she didn't spell out the minute details of what had taken place that night, neither did she leave out anything essential.

“Call the police,” Hayley insisted. “Those bastards
have
to be stopped!”

“I agree. But the police can't accomplish what we have been able to. They can't infiltrate the organization. And their approach and technique could jeopardize the lives of the women those bastards have kidnapped. This man—he's a member of another organization, a private and powerful one. They're determined. They know what they're doing.”

“I don't give a damn about that. What about you?”

“I'm a tough bird, sis. I wouldn't have survived in this business if I wasn't.”

“But this is different. Not only are those
Slavers
monsters, you're changing. You just admitted that everything you always believed about yourself is being turned on end. That's what I'm worried about—you.”

Saree closed her eyes against the hot burn of tears. “That's how I felt when you met Mazati. The way he treated you at first…”

“Bondage. Consuming me.”

“Yes.”

“The same is happening to you now, isn't it,” Hayley whispered.