Safe Harbor (10 page)

Sully stopped by Publix on his way home and bought a few things for dinner that night. He didn’t want Mac to have to leave and stress Clarisse out even more by her being alone with him. Jason and his wife, Katie, would come over for dinner. Having another woman to talk to might help Clarisse relax and open up. Mac was in the kitchen making lunch when Sully returned. He leaned in and kissed him.

“I’ve got groceries in the car for you to unload. Where is she?”

Mac looked sad. “She’s asleep again. I got her to eat a little breakfast, and then she went to lie down after we got back from Tad’s. When I checked on her, she was out.”

“Jason and Katie will be here at seven for dinner. He’ll talk to her, take her statement. Just a precaution. Any luck talking her into seeing

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a doctor?”

Mac shook his head. “She won’t do it. I told her if she showed any signs of a problem, I would force her to go.”

“Maybe we should call Dr. Elliot and get her an appointment.”

Mac frowned. “Your old shrink?”

“You said it yourself, she’s got PTSD.” Sully took a deep breath, prepared for Mac’s objection to his next comment. “I’ve decided that starting today, until we know she can handle things the way they normally are around here, you should stay dressed around her. No punishment. I’ll catch up the ones you still owe me in another day or so.”

Mac’s jaw clenched, his lips pulled taut into a thin line. “I don’t get a say in this?”

“You really think I’m wrong here, Brant? It’s in her best interest.

Frankly, I don’t like beating you for something you shouldn’t be punished for. That’s not fair to
me
, you know. If you want a session, all you have to do is ask and I’ll gladly give it to you, you know that.”

Sully knew he’d pulled a double-pronged argument out of his ass that Mac couldn’t counter. “When do we go back to normal?” Mac finally asked.

“When I’m sure it won’t scare her.”

He retreated to his office and ignored the way Mac slammed a few things around on the counter. Mac hated it when he made a sudden change to loosen the rules like that. Mac thrived on the strict service and obedience aspect of their dynamic as much as he did the sadomasochism. In this case, Mac would just have to adapt.

* * * *

Clarisse awoke a little after two. She walked out to the kitchen, and when Mac heard her, he went to help.

“Hey, you feeling better?”

She nodded but wouldn’t look at him. He noticed she’d donned

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sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt despite how warm the house felt.

She did, at least, have her hair pulled back into a ponytail.

“Let me make you something, sweetie. What would you like?”

“I can do it.”

He smiled. “It’s okay. I’ll—”

“I can do it!”

Mac took a step back at her shrill tone. Sully hurried into the kitchen. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong!” she insisted. Then she leaned over the counter and started crying again.

The men walked over to her. Sully hung back while Mac gently wrapped his arms around her and held her. “Shh, you’re okay. You’re safe.”

“How did my life get so fucked up?” she sobbed.

Sully left the kitchen. As much as his heart ached for her, he knew his presence wouldn’t help. She needed Mac, the safety she felt with him. Sully knew he topped her automatically mistrusted list. He hoped that after a few more days or weeks with them, she’d change her opinion.

He returned to his study but left the door open in case Mac needed him. He could hear them softly talking in the kitchen, then heard Mac cooking something for her.

Her soft laugh.

Out in the bayou, the guy across from them headed out on his boat, probably a trip to Anclote Island with his grandkids who were visiting from Michigan.

Sully closed his eyes and tried to push away that thought. Kids.

Thank God he didn’t have any with Cybil. Yes, he’d heard about Cybil’s divorce. Straight from her own goddamned mouth two Saturdays ago at Haslam’s, when he’d been there for a book signing.

Mac had been out fishing. She’d cornered him at the end of the appearance and not-so-subtly hinted that she would soon be single again and asked if he would like to get together for coffee or, wink,

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more? For old time’s sake?

He snorted in amusement. She wouldn’t last five minutes with him now. Cybil wanted a guy she could push around and milk for every last cent and ounce of energy until she tossed him and found a replacement. How had he not seen through her before? Yes, it’d emotionally destroyed him when she left him the way she had, finding out about her months of screwing around on top of the divorce while he fought for his life.

Thank God for Mac.

Sully would admit the evil satisfaction of watching her jaw drop and her face blanche when he leaned in and whispered exactly what she’d have to do, in addition to hell freezing over first and the Bucs winning five Super Bowls in a row, before he’d even think about taking her back.

It had felt damn good walking away and leaving her standing there in shock.

He grinned.

He felt a little guilty testing the waters when Mac returned home the next evening, telling him that she had shown up and watching Mac’s face to see what he thought. The joyful thrill that ran through him when Mac looked scared before he clamped down on it, and then Mac’s relief when Sully reassured him and repeated the conversation.

The more eager than usual way Mac begged to be used that night once they went to bed.

No, he’d never get rid of Mac for Cybil or anyone else, for that matter.

He turned back to his laptop and tried to write.

* * * *

About an hour before Jason’s scheduled arrival, Mac walked into Sully’s office and quietly closed the door behind him. “How do you want to handle this?” he asked.

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“Tell her a friend and his wife are coming for dinner. Don’t tell her he’s a cop yet.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.”

Mac frowned. “I’m not lying to her.”

“How is that lying?”

“Not telling her he’s a cop. She’ll never trust me again.”

Sully swore under his breath. Mac was right. “Where is she?”

“She’s watching TV in the living room.”

Sully stood, pushed past Mac, and silently swore again at her startled flinch when he entered the room. He offered a smile.

“Sweetie, a friend of mine and his wife are coming over for dinner tonight.”

She’d been channel surfing. At his words, she put down the remote and started to stand. “Okay, I’ll just eat in my room.”

“No, honey, that’s not what I meant. I want you to meet them.” He sat in one of the other chairs. “He’s my former partner. I want you to talk to him, tell him what happened.”

He hated that her scared rabbit look returned. She shook her head.

“No, that’s okay. Mac can run me over to Uncle Tad’s—”

“Clarisse.” Mac’s stern voice from behind Sully startled him. He glanced over his shoulder, but Mac’s gaze had focused on her.

“Honey, Jason is a good guy. He’s going to help us nail that son of a bitch to the fucking wall. I promise.”

She’d gone white, like she teetered on the edge of another breakdown. At Mac’s firm tone, she hesitantly nodded. “Okay,” she softly said.

“Good girl,” Mac soothed, moving to sit next to her on the couch.

Sully watched them for a moment before he quietly left the room and returned to his office. He shut the door behind him. Even through the door he could hear them eventually moving to the kitchen and the sound of pots and pans rattling, the aroma of cooking food drifting to him.

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Her laugh.

Since getting together with Mac, he’d never felt deep fear over the possibility of losing him.

Until now.

He closed his eyes. Despite their dynamic, Mac could come and go as he pleased. If Mac fell hard and fast for this girl, he couldn’t—

wouldn’t—stop him from leaving.

Even if it ripped his soul out in the process.

* * * *

Jason and Katie arrived right on time. Katie was a sweet, soft-spoken librarian. Sully had seen her charm a roomful of rambunctious, sugar-high ten-year-olds without raising her voice. He had no doubt she could relax Clarisse.

Clarisse hovered around Mac, almost using him as a human shield. Sully would have found it amusing except he knew how terrified she felt.

Mac artfully seated her between himself and Katie. As their meal progressed with no mention of taking her statement, Sully watched Clarisse relax. When they finished, before Mac could stand to clear the table, Sully stood. “You all talk. I’ll do the dishes.”

Mac shot him a glare but didn’t argue. They moved out to the living room where Sully listened while Jason carefully steered her toward the events of the attack. As they talked, Sully sneaked a peek.

Jason had taken out a notepad and jotted information as she quietly related what happened. By the time Jason and Katie were ready to leave, Clarisse had marginally relaxed again.

Sully escorted his friends downstairs, leaving Mac with Clarisse.

Both Jason and Katie looked angry.

Jason blew out a deep breath. “Goddamn, that poor kid’s totally fucked up.” Jason and Katie had a daughter just a few years older than Clarisse.

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“You see why I had you come over.”

“She can stay with us if she’d be more comfortable,” Katie offered.

“Thanks, Katie. I’ll pass that on, but from one cop’s house to another, she’ll still be frightened. She’s latched onto Mac.”

“How about I take her out to dinner one evening when she’s feeling better? Girls’ night out?”

“That would be good for her. Thanks.”

They said good-bye. When Sully returned upstairs, Mac was sullenly cleaning up what Sully had missed in the kitchen. “Where is she?”

“She went to bed.” He threw down the dishtowel and turned on Sully, but before he could lay into him, Sully held up a hand.

“Brant, listen to me. She needs to come first. Don’t hassle me on this. She’s going to be taking over some of your chores anyway, so what difference does it make if it’s me or her doing them?”

He started to reply, then dropped his gaze. “That’s different. It’s not right you doing stuff. You’re my Master. It’s
my
job.”

Jesus, I
so
don’t need this tonight.

Bless his heart, Mac was pretty set in his way, had his oddly skewed sense of duty and pride when it came to protocols. “You have to take care of her first and foremost. Do what’s best for her. Your job is what I tell you it is. Quit topping from the bottom, goddammit.”

He couldn’t have slapped Mac and elicited the same shocked look.

Mac bowed his head. “I’m sorry, Master,” he quietly said.

“Good. I did leave you stuff to finish, by the way.” He stalked to his office, quietly closed the door, and locked it after thinking about it. His nerves were on edge, partly from Clarisse’s tension throughout the meal, partly from Mac’s unwillingness to back the fuck off protocol. He understood why it was so important to Mac. The income disparity aside, Mac seriously considered it his job to take care of him. It made Mac feel like a failure when he didn’t do it. Sully totally got that.

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It didn’t mean that it didn’t exasperate him, especially considering the situation.

Around their normal bedtime, he heard Mac try the office door knob. That was a clear, silent sign to Mac that he wanted to be left alone.

He put his headphones on, cranked his MP3 player, and wrote until nearly four in the morning, until words swam across his laptop screen and he spent more time correcting errors than he did typing.

When he opened his office door, he nearly tripped over Mac. The man had fallen asleep sitting in the hall, his head resting against the wall.

On one hand, it irritated Sully. On the other, it warmed him. If a third hand were available, it would have been holding a bucketful of guilt that Mac had spent all those hours waiting for him. He should have anticipated it and ordered him to bed.

He knelt beside him and touched Mac’s chin. Mac’s eyes snapped open.

“Hey, buddy,” Sully whispered, hoping they didn’t wake Clarisse.

“Ready for bed?”

Mac nodded and followed Sully to their room. Within minutes, they were in bed and Mac was already dozing again. Where Sully thought he’d fall asleep immediately, he found his troubled mind wandering. Mac was a strong man, a tough man, but whenever he felt emotionally vulnerable his slave side took over, sometimes to an annoying degree.

Mac didn’t like to talk about his feelings even though he was a sensitive man. He preferred to present a solid, silent, stoic façade to the rest of the world, a holdover from his childhood. An abusive, alcoholic father who had left his mom and the three kids when Mac was eight. Not until after he’d beaten the shit out of Mac, Betsy, and their mom plenty of times first though. Only Mac’s younger brother, Jim, escaped the abuse, born four months after David MacCaffrey’s departure.

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When Sully tried to talk Mac into counseling, he’d refused. Sully didn’t want to stoop to ordering him to go because then it wouldn’t do him any good.

He drifted to sleep, trying not to think about Clarisse’s mistrustful stare.

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