MasonsRule-ARe (5 page)

With Tucker's mother publicly confessing she punished her husband, Reverend Hawkins, more than a decade ago, these four men had closed ranks and confirmed everything she already knew. They were connected and it felt like a helluva lot more than a simple long-time friendship.

During the months before she came to town, she wove a story together of these four beautiful and apparently wealthy men. She looked at their days in college to the present, leaving a few gaping holes that made it unclear exactly who they were and which one of them could have been responsible for her sister's death. That's what she hoped to get from Mason. The missing pieces.

Technically, the case was already solved and the supposed murderer was safely in prison with no chance for parole. Rebecca never felt an ounce of relief when the homeless man was arrested and quickly put on trial. Until she found her sister's diary, she was never been able to put her finger on why. She still didn't have any contrary evidence, but she was willing to work with a hunch. She failed her sister once before by not being there that night, and she wasn't about to do it again.

She touched the picture of Cyndi's crumpled and broken body in the middle of her board and felt the familiar cold surround her heart. The murder pictures were gruesome, but she made herself look at them frequently so she wouldn't forget what her sister went through. The ligature marks at her wrist made it clear she was tied up at some point. The dark welts across her stomach and thighs were most likely made from a cane or something like it. But what she couldn't see from this picture became the biggest break in the case as far as she was concerned.
 

In one of the reports, the coroner mentioned seeing a partial mark on her hand under the black light. The kind bars often used to identify people under age or, in this case, someone who has VIP access to Purgatory.

That had not been easy to identify from the hastily drawn image on a faded piece of paper.
 

The original image was captured eight long years ago and after the trial, the evidence was carelessly stored. The memories still haunted her. When the police were hot to solve it, they painted her sister in a horribly negative way and even went so far as to suggest their father caused her death.
 

Everything about their family fell apart almost immediately. Even after the trial, none of them were the same and Rebecca took her guilt and grief and morphed into a selfish teenager doing things she had no business doing. All in the name of making the pain go away.

When she finally stepped back, she realized Cyndi was dead, her mom was gone and her father sat on the couch drunk every night not caring about anything anymore.
 

All she had left were her sister's words.
 

Night after night, Rebecca devoured that journal, learning the secret life her sister had led. So much of her life had revolved around pain. Both emotional and physical. One had apparently led to the other. All of which she hid from her family and friends.
 

At least her real family.
 

Purgatory became her second home and essentially another family. She stepped into the world of BDSM and never came back out. Rebecca wanted to learn more. Hell, she needed to understand what her sister had gone through and there was only one way.

First she forced herself through college to obtain her investigative journalism degree, where she studied the fine art of patience. Or so she thought.

Fresh out of school, she expected something to happen. Something to lead her to her sister's real killer. When nothing magically appeared, she started digging. Newspaper articles on the murder, online stories about anything connected, current events at the same time and on and on and on, until she'd cross-referenced anything and everything that could have touched her sister's life.

Eventually, all roads led to Purgatory, the club where her sister apparently spent her last night alive. Then when her gut told her she was close, she met Mason and he tested her resolve every time she saw him. She reached up and touched the grainy, long-distance picture she managed to take before she met him. When she finally got into a position that gave her easier access to a few police records, she read through them and memorized every detail about her sister's case.

The killer was meticulous in his effort to leave no trail. Not a shred of DNA evidence was found and the coroner's examination resulted in no substantial leads. It seemed planned and possibly personal. The man they convicted showed up out of the blue and, as far as she could tell was convicted on nothing more than circumstantial evidence.
 

The courts deemed her sister's case as another tragic death from being in the wrong place at the wrong time. A crime resulting from the desperation of a man who didn't even remember his name.

Rebecca didn't believe it.
 

She was the last person to speak to her and her sister was desperate to come home that night, not find more trouble. Rebecca did everything in her power to convince her parents and the police there was a lot more to her sister's story. No one listened. All they heard was the guilt of a selfish teenager who refused to sneak out of the house and go pick her up. If only she had. Both their lives could have been completely different.

Rebecca dropped her head in her hands. No amount of therapy or time eased the guilt. The only thing she had left was the journal. She picked up the tattered notebook from the lock box she kept it in and flipped slowly through the pages. It started out innocent enough because the first fifty pages or so were from her high school days, but it had grown darker quickly. Right before her sister started college, she met an older man who not only took her virginity, he became her Master.
 

In her journal, she never called him anything other than Master, leaving his true identity hidden.

Rebecca replaced the book back in the box and all the pictures from her board. She continued to dig into her sister's life, but something more awakened inside her and she didn't know what to do with it.
 

She couldn't stop thinking about the many scenes she watched in Purgatory. Even worse, she began to ache to be the submissive involved. Except every time she imagined it, she always saw his face. That damned Mason Sinclair. Elegant. Gorgeous. Seductive.
 

Dangerous.

But Mason had an alibi for the night her sister died. After hiring one of her genius college buddies to hack into his banking and business records, she discovered he was out of town on a business trip. Levi wasn’t anywhere near the state, off serving in the Marine Corps. So that left Tucker and Gabe as her prime suspects. More importantly, which one of them had become Cyndi's Master after the original one sold her at a Purgatory auction.

It wasn't long after her sister's death that Tucker withdrew from his life and practically became a recluse, turning over all of his business dealings to Mason. She looked at the picture of Tucker and his now fiancée Maggie lying at the top of her box. The man may be in love now, but that didn't absolve him of any crimes in his past. If it came down to it and he was guilty, she would take him down.

A knock at her apartment door ripped Rebecca from her musings.
 

Shit.
 

She lost track of time and now her ride was here. She quickly locked the journal and evidence away, then dropped a few more pieces of clothing into her bag and stepped from the closet. Patience.
 

It was important to remember how much she needed to finish this. If spending a few days getting to know Mason got her closer to answers, she'd take the time. She had no intention of backing out now.
 

Chapter Four

Mason got up from his home office recliner and removed the bandage from his arm. What a shit day. Ever since being diagnosed with hemochromatosis in college, blood removal to reduce the iron in his body was a regular thing. Sometimes the sessions left him weak for several hours. Sometimes for a couple of days, which annoyed him. He rarely had time for weakness, especially not on the day his new submissive was scheduled to move in.
 

Fortunately, his doctor was willing to come when he called, day or night, so he had most of the day to recover. Now the treatment was out of the way and he wouldn’t have to do it again until well after his contract with Rebecca expired. He was ready for the day to get much better.

He checked the time on his cell phone and frowned. She was late. Not a good way to start their arrangement. He sent a driver to her apartment, giving him plenty of time to return her by now. She needed to learn quickly that he didn't tolerate delays.
 

There was so much he still didn't know about her. While he wanted to know more eventually, he liked the idea that right now she agreed to his contract with both of them knowing little about each other. It gave them the opportunity to discover together, in a controlled relationship without a lot of preconceived notions.
 

Sure, he knew about her job as a reporter and her ridiculous fascination with Purgatory and its owners. And a few months ago he would have kept a vast distance between them. Now things were changing faster than he could predict and he was tired. Tired of maintaining a ridiculous façade. He was ready to move on to a different phase of life and Rebecca would be the woman who helped him with the transition.
 

Financially, he was prepared for the loss of Lewis Global in more ways than one. For ten plus years he tolerated a board of community and religious leaders, some of which had proven to be the hypocrites he expected. Everyone had something to hide and he used that information to his advantage. Now, with the inevitable revelation of his dark and dirty family tree, steps were being taken to insulate his family. He simply didn’t care what he had to do to get there. In his eyes, the ends more than justified the means. The only surprise was his lack of joy in watching them squirm.
 

Mason walked into the kitchen and checked on the meal his cook prepared before she left. All the hot items were in the warming tray below the oven and cold items were in the refrigerator for quick access. He grabbed two wine glasses and carried them to the table set for tonight’s meal in front of the glass wall that overlooked not only uptown Charlotte, but Purgatory as well. He chose this apartment for the view alone. The floor to ceiling windows in every room made the entire apartment seem especially spacious. He liked looking down at the city all the time.

Under other circumstances, he might have let the part-time staff handle the dinner service, but not tonight. His first night with Ms. Adams would be the two of them in complete privacy. The buzz of the driver alerting him to their arrival made Mason smile. Almost show time.

He placed the glasses and opened the wine before taking up a position in the foyer of his apartment. Another alerting ding and the elevator doors swooshed open, revealing a breathtaking Rebecca, whose eyes went a little wider when she saw him. Her normally curly blonde hair flowed in soft waves around her face with one side clipped back by a deep purple flower. His gaze held hers for a few seconds more, drinking her in. His body had already gone tight and it took more than a little control to stay in position and not rush her.

She had an incredible girl-next-door-gone-rogue look about her, thanks to a more than generous full mouth, which he couldn't wait to feel on his body. Even more perfect was the berry red color of her lips, without lipstick.

Another slim black skirt covered the full hips he already knew fit his hands perfectly. The garment stopped just above her knee, and barely there flesh-toned stockings covered the bottom half of her legs. While her attire bordered on boardroom boring, her shoes never disappointed.
 

They were delicate and dangerous at the same time. Black patent leather heels with a little bow above her toes and then a single, small strap encasing her ankle. They reminded him of a miniature version of his leather restraints. To top off the look, the heels were at least four inches, which still only barely brought the top of her head to his chin. She was a tiny thing with wicked curves and he wanted to feel her again.
 

"I was beginning to wonder if you backed out and I'd have to take matters in my own hands to enforce our contract."

She glanced up at him, her face a rosy blush from rushing up the stairs. It was obvious she was trying to hurry. "Sorry. I got sidetracked while packing and it took a little extra time to get here."

He lifted his left eyebrow. It wasn't that he didn't believe her, but he was damned curious about the delay. Was she having second thoughts? He shoved the question aside. It didn't matter. She'd signed on the dotted line and given her full consent. That was good enough for him.

"I could punish you for tardiness."

Her eyes widened and the flush of her cheeks deepened. He really liked her reaction. His pants grew a little tighter in the front and he resisted the urge to adjust them.
 

"Does that idea frighten you?" Her eyes were clear and steady and hard to read.

"No, Sir. I don't think so. I'm fully aware what I signed on for." Her words were steady, but the slight hitch in her breath at the end gave away more than she probably wanted to.