Masters of the Shadowlands 8 - If only (45 page)

Sally took out her phone. Maybe—if she could think of what to say—she could sneak in an explanation to her Doms before Anne talked to them.

“Hey, Sally. I’ve been looking for you.” Kari walked over. “Are your guys here yet?”

“No. I’m going to call and see what’s keeping them.”
Should I sound sweet or cute or…

“Cool. Dan’s running late too.” Kari shifted. “Too much diet soda—I’m going to visit the restroom. After you call, we can run upstairs and see Jessica.”

“Sounds good.” Sally stared at her cell phone, not quite ready to dial.
Maybe penitent? Remorseful? Or flirty…flirty might work well, especially after last night.

* * * *

The door to Vance’s office opened, letting in the noise from the main room. Early Friday evening, the FBI downtown field office was chaotic with the last rush of activity before the weekend.

He knew the feeling. If he could just get this report written, he and Galen could get to the Shadowlands and meet Sally.

As Vance looked up from his writing, Galen entered, looking sucker punched.

“What’s wrong?” Vance pushed aside the court case.

“The arsonist.” Galen’s voice was harsh. Tight. He set a memo onto the desk. “Two houses burned down last night. Police detectives—and their families.”

“Why would he kill cops now?” Vance glanced at the names of the deceased, and a cold chill ran through him. Those were the two cops who—along with Galen—had killed Somerfeld.
Fuck
. “Any other law-enforcement officers killed?”

“Just them.”

Vance’s jaw went tight as he remembered the scream of rage they’d heard at Somerfeld’s death.

“Leads?”

“Yeah, actually.” Galen looked even grimmer. “Research finally dug down to the untold story of the Somerfelds—although someone had done a pretty good job of burying the information.”

“Yeah?”

“Drew had a twin named Ellis who burned down the family home with Daddy alive inside. Got caught in the fire himself but survived. Judged criminally insane. Committed. Mom suicided.”

“Fuck, there’s a mess.”

“Ayuh. Drew went on to become a lawyer, assistant district attorney, and head of the Harvest Association.”

“The brother is loose?” A proven arsonist and crazy.

“Discharged from the mental institute a few years ago. Cutbacks, you know, especially since Drew pulled strings,” Galen said in a dry voice. “Once out, Ellis went off the grid. New York is searching Drew’s records to find him.”

“Goddamn it.” The sick feeling in the pit of Vance’s stomach increased. An insane bastard out for revenge. If Drew had kept him in check, that control was gone.

“Got a hit.” Annabel hurried in, holding a folder away from her body as if it was contaminated. After swallowing a few times, she said, “Drew owned a cabin in the Adirondacks. We did an inquiry…” Her voice trailed off.

“Talk, Annabel,” Galen said, taking the paperwork from her.

Vance’s cell rang, and he answered automatically. “Buchanan.”

“Aren’t you official?” Sally’s vibrant voice was clean and bright and beautiful, a complete contrast to the atmosphere in the office. “Where are you anyway? Kari and I are waiting for our law-enforcement boys.”

As Galen opened the folder, several photographs spilled onto the desk. A woman’s body. Her legs and torso were charred black, her face so battered that she was unrecognizable. A begrimed metal collar was around her neck.

Jesus. Fuck
. Vance’s mouth went dry.

Annabel was telling Galen, “…arrived too late to save her. She was already dead. If only…”

“Vance, what’s wrong. Who’s dead?” asked Sally.

He couldn’t look away from the pictures. His stomach clenched as he moved the top photograph and saw another. Whip marks striped the back of the body.

A hand appeared in Vance’s field of vision, setting down a folder over the photos. Covering them. Freeing him. He looked up.

Galen’s gaze met his. “Where is Sally?” His voice was strained but controlled.

“The club. With Kari.”

“Tell her to stay there. Dan can take her to his house.”

“Vance, I can hear him,” Sally said on the cell. “What’s wrong? Did I do something—”

“You heard Galen,” Vance said. His skin felt cold. Two cops were dead. Somerfeld was out for revenge, and Galen would be next on the list.

What the bastard had done to that woman… Sally needed to stay far, far away from them. Vance’s voice was harsh as he said, “Stay with Kari. We’ll send your things to you there.”

WAS VANCE TALKING to her? Seriously? After staring at her cell phone, Sally put it back to her ear. “Send my things? But why? Who’s dead?”

“Two police officers are dead—because of us.” Vance took an audible breath. “And a woman.”

“Because of us.”
Because they didn’t get there in time.
Because of me
. “Was she…”
Did I cause that?

“Go and stay with Kari. I don’t want you to return to the house, is that clear?”

She froze, her mouth dropping open. “But you…you—”
love me. You said
. The words welled higher in a child’s helpless cry. “Let me—”
be with you. Please
. Her request dried up like corn in a drought, leaving her mouth tasting like dust.

Because she’d caused those deaths. If she hadn’t kept Galen and Vance up all night, hadn’t begged for attention, hadn’t made them late for work, maybe they’d have been in time to save the officers and the woman.

My fault
. Because she was stupid and selfish and always asking for more. She stared at the empty St. Andrew’s cross, and guilt crept into her blood like a transfusion of darkness. Because Sally had wanted her men to lighten up, a woman had died.

And Vance was disgusted with her; she could hear it in the lifelessness of his voice, the coldness. Vance wasn’t cold. Not to her.

On the phone, she heard, “Buchanan, you need to—”

“Just a minute,” Vance snapped. “Sally, did you hear me?” Someone in Vance’s office was trying to get his attention. And she was interfering with his work again.

“I heard,” she whispered. “Take care of…” She didn’t have the right to say that to him. Didn’t have any rights at all. “Bye.”

She set the cell down beside her. Carefully. As if the phone would break if she handled it roughly.

Staring at the blank display, she curled into a ball in the leather chair. The leather skirt rucked up on her thighs. Making her look like a slut. And that leopard-printed top she’d put on earlier was stupid, not alluring at all.

She slowly pulled the cat ears’ headband from her hair. She’d wanted to talk the men into playing hunters against the wild cat woman. Her eyes closed as humiliation made her stomach sink.

Always playing games. No wonder the Feds wanted her gone. Her childish whining for attention had meant they hadn’t been there to prevent someone’s death. Self-loathing lapped at the edges of her confidence, and pieces of her crumbled off, falling into the blackness. Disappearing forever.

She looked up to see Kari returning from the bathroom, her phone to her ear. As she reached Sally, she said, “Okay. Love you,” and stuffed the cell into her pocket. “Dan says you’re our new roommate.”

“I heard.”

Kari sat down beside her. “Are you all right?”

“Oh sure.”
No. And probably never again
. “Just tired.”

“Hardly. Tell me what’s wrong.”

She forced a smile. “Nothing. Really. But I could use a drink.” Sally started to rise, glanced at the bar, and stopped.

Master Cullen was behind the bar. His submissive, Andrea, had her hands on her hips, and Cullen threw his head back, obviously roaring with laughter.

I don’t want to see him
. He’d been Master of the trainees the night she’d come to the Shadowlands. The thought of disappointing him, first with her practical joke, and next because Vance and Galen didn’t want her anymore… She just couldn’t.

“Kari?” Sally bit her lip. “Could you, maybe, get me a drink? Anything is fine. I just want to…sit…for a minute.”

With a frown, Kari patted her arm. “Of course, I can. Stay put, and I’ll be right back.” She headed for the bar, pulling her phone out of her skirt pocket.

A check a little later showed Kari at the bar—and waiting in a line.
Good
. Sally rose and headed for the exit. Going to Kari and Dan’s house was out. She didn’t want to be around anyone and especially not a Shadowlands Master. Especially not Dan. He must think she was pathetic. She’d faked orgasms, chosen herself such an abusive Dom that Dan had to rescue her. Then once she hooked up with nice Doms, she was such a whiny bitch that she interfered with their jobs.

Got someone killed.

The Feds didn’t want her anymore. Galen hadn’t even talked to her to say good-bye.

Before she submerged herself in a complete mire of depression, she firmed her lips. She was a good person. Really. She had good friends. Was an honest, hardworking sort. Just couldn’t function in a relationship. Wanted too much.
Selfish, self-centered. Stupid.

Near the door, as she halted to let three submissives in full pony attire trot past, she saw Rainie approaching with an empty tray in one hand.

“Hey, Sally. Mistress Anne is seriously furious.” Rainie patted her heavy breasts, looking worried. “She won’t be able to adapt her cock crushers to fit on my tits, will she?”

“Ah. Don’t think so.” Sally took another step toward the door. “Listen, I need—”

“Thank you, God.” Rainie grinned before frowning. “She’s gonna talk with your Doms and let them deal with you. Are you going to be in trouble?”

The unexpected question stabbed into Sally like a pitchfork, leaving bleeding holes in her heart. Galen and Vance wouldn’t be around to
deal
with her. “I-I… No. Vance and G-Galen don’t like me anymore, so I guess it’s not a problem.” She blinked against the welling tears.

After a blank stare, Rainie snarled, “Those sons of fucking bitches!” She slammed her drink tray down on the closest table, startling the two Doms sitting there. Putting an arm around Sally, she pulled her close. “What did they do, baby? What happened?”

Baby
. Galen liked to call her baby girl. Sally pulled in a shuddering breath. “I’m not really sure.”
I was selfish. Needy.

Like magic, Jessica and Gabi appeared in front of her.

Jessica was wearing the heavy black leather collar that Master Z required of her in the club, and the sight made Sally’s heart ache. Vance had put a collar on her.
“…you can consider yourself collared by Galen and me until we take it off.”
He’d liked her then.

“Sally,” Gabi said, her voice gentle. “You look miserable. Let’s sit for a bit.”

“I don’t think I want—” Before the sentence was finished, Sally was sitting on a couch with Gabi beside her.

“What’s made you so unhappy?” Gabi asked, brushing Sally’s hair back.

“It’s those fucking FBI agents,” Rainie said.

“The Feds? What did they do?” Jessica asked. Standing in front of the couch like a guard dog, she crossed her arms over her lacy bustier. “If they hurt you, I’m going to—”

Gabi clucked her tongue against her teeth. “Let’s get the facts before you string them up by their pride ’n’ joys, okay?”

“I’d rather hang ’em and get the facts later,” Rainie said, taking the same aggressive posture as Jessica.

Sally stared up at them. Two subbie defenders in one club? Master Z would have a fit. And yet, knowing they’d take on the Feds for her…that she wasn’t alone… Her chin quivered, and she bit her lip.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Gabi wrapped a warm hand around Sally’s.

“It’s not their fault. It’s mine.” She stared down at their joined hands. “I just wasn’t—”
Ready. Prepared to break up
. “Vance told me to go home with Dan and that they’d send my stuff. Not to go back to their house.” Not to go where she’d been so happy.

“That limp-dicked, slimeballed, fucking feckless FBI fart,” Rainie growled. “Get the noose.”

Gabi’s frown silenced the trainee. “Why, Sally?”

“I don’t know. I don’t
know
!” Realizing she’d shouted, Sally covered her mouth with a shaking hand. “I do know,” she whispered, grief filling her chest. “I wanted to— I made them late for work. People died.” Remorseful tears spilled over, turning the room to a wavering darkness. “But Gabi, they said they loved me. They
did
.”

Her breath hitched, and all she wanted was to crawl into a corner and cry and cry and cry.
I tried to be good. I tried so
hard.

“Huh. Sally, I know them—and can’t imagine them using the ‘love’ word if they didn’t mean it. Can you?”

Sally shook her head.

With a low humph, Rainie dropped into a leather chair on the other side of the coffee table. Jessica moved back beside her, resting a hip on the chair arm.

“Good, you’re here,” Kari said to Gabi as she walked into the area, holding a tray.

Sally pulled in a slow breath—
get it together
—and realized what Kari had said. “You called them?”

“Of course. They were just upstairs having a chat.”

No schoolteacher should be that sneaky.

Kari gave her a concerned smile and set the tray on the table. “I brought drinks for everyone, but no drinking if you’re planning to play later, okay?” She picked up a heavy mug and handed it to Sally. “Even from the bar, I could see you shaking. You get hot chocolate.”

Something warm would be good. Icy slush seemed to have replaced her blood. But she’d almost rather have a serious drink. Or a bottle. “Thank you.” Sally gulped down some of the hot chocolate and gasped as the liquid hit her stomach with far more potency than just milk. “What did you put
in
that?”

“Andrea wanted to come help, but Cullen said he needed her at the bar, so she mixed the cocoa with Baileys and Frangelico instead of water and said to consider that your hug.”

“She’s so sweet.” Almost tearing up again, Sally determinedly sipped. All alcohol, the drink heated her insides quickly.

Friends and alcohol and chocolate—FAC—the ultimate postdisaster support system for women.

Kari handed out the rest of the glasses and took one for herself.