Obsessive Compulsion Page 8

  Victoria curses. “Boys. I swear to Christ Almighty.” She points at Austin. “I don’t care if you gotta tie that boy down, you and Saul need to come to an understanding.” Her eyes move to James, leaving Austin’s mouth open in an unspoken reply. “Thank you for giving her a ride, but now you need to leave. Brandon doesn’t want you here. Not yet, and I don’t have the time or patience tonight to deal with the war you two might bring down on this club.”

  Finally, she turns to Ian. “Tell Brandon I’ll meet him in the club room as soon as I get some damn clothes on.” Without waiting for a reply from anyone, she stomps off, calling one last command over her shoulder. “Miss Scarlet, come with me please.”

  “Yes, Mistress,” I reply. I don’t like playing a submissive for anyone, but Victoria leaves no wiggle room on the matter. If I want to really take part in this world, she’s my trainer and what she says goes. I follow, Ian not meeting my questioning glance as I pass.

  Ian

  Crow.

  I haven’t seen Charlie since Wednesday and now she shows up with Crow? What the hell?

  I’d just accepted the fact that it was seven-thirty and Charlie wasn’t coming tonight, but now I don’t know what to think. That dark-eyed son of a bitch is smirking at me from under the brim of his Stetson as Charlie, Austin and Victoria head back into the house.

  I swallow emotions, keeping a tight lid on the bottle, but I can’t keep the twitching under control. “You should heed Victoria’s advice, James. Brandon isn’t ready to see you, and I don’t think you being in uniform is going to stop his fist from showing his displeasure to your face.”

  Much to my surprise, James nods and takes off his hat. “I ‘spose not, and I guess gettin’ him thrown in jail for assaulting an officer wouldn’t exactly help our situation. Too bad, though. I was hopin’ to spend more time makin’ peace with Miss McLeod.”

  My fists clench at my sides. “She is Emma’s best friend, and she is not a fool. Go mark your territory elsewhere.”

  He lets out a long sigh. “Alright, alright. Her car broke down and I was just givin’ her a ride, but a crow can tell when to cut his losses and bow out for the night.” He twirls his hat in his hands as he takes a step back then stops. “Can you… would you tell Brandon I wanna talk, whenever he’s ready?”

  If I didn’t know Crow better, I’d swear he was being sincere. “I will.”

  “Thanks,” he nods and opens his car door. “Oh, and can you tell Rabbit that I…” he stops, looking at me like he’s lost, then just shakes his head. “Never mind. I’m sure she doesn’t wanna talk to me, either.”

  My cheek twitches as I watch him pull away, our strange conversation nagging my brain. I don’t know everything that’s gone on between James Darcy and Brandon Peters, but I know it goes way back to when they were kids. Back to the time when Brandon’s twin brother, Brendon, was still alive.

  I head back inside, passing by Austin who is pacing the kitchen while speaking in Spanish into his cellphone. I can only assume that he’s talking to his sister, Annabelle, but other than Saul’s name and estupido, I don’t understand anything else he’s saying. We exchange quick glances, and I try to offer some sympathy through my anger. Saul definitely isn’t the brightest crayon, because it’s pretty damn obvious what’s really going on.

  I leave Austin to pace out his issues so I can deliver Victoria’s message to Brandon. Entering the clubroom, I find an exhibitionist demonstration in full swing. Cameron, her honey-blonde hair radiant under the lights, is being serviced by her long time Sub, Joey. Joey has her platinum blonde hair put up into her signature pigtails while she shines Cameron’s boots. It’s a proper boot-blacking display, with Cameron and Joey’s play slowly developing into more sexually charged maneuvers. Their exhibitions have always been club-member favorites.

  I like watching them, from the safety of the bar, simply because of the control Cam shows and the obvious affection that exists between her and Joey. It’s not just about the crowd, the exhibition or the sex. This club, these things we enjoy, it’s about so much more. The idea that it could all be taken away is what has Brandon so on edge tonight.

  I find him scowling next to the bar with Emma at his side, and I’m grateful that Cam and Joey are putting on such a show tonight to distract from the Stable Master’s foul mood. “Boss, Mistress Cat will be down to the clubroom soon.”

  “Thanks,” Brandon nods, his hand idly playing with one of Emma’s caramel curls. “And Baldur?”

  My lips twitch into a frown at the sound of Saul’s Nordic club name. “He left.”

  “Dammit,” Brandon runs a hand down his heavily scarred face. “Those three are gonna give me an aneurism.”

  “Has Char… Miss Scarlet shown up?” Emma asks. “She said she was going to come.”

  My anger returns. “She showed up with Crow.”

  “What?” Brandon hisses through clenched teeth as he leans away from the bar, his eyes scanning the club.

  “He left,” I add. “Her car broke down on the way here and the good Deputy happened to pass her by.”

  “Well, that was nice of him,” Emma offers, setting a hand on Brandon’s flexing bicep. Emma doesn’t hold grudges, even when they’re for beady-eyed bastards like Crow.

  “He said he wanted to talk with you,” I pass on James’ message. Might as well. I’m just the damn answering service tonight. “When and wherever you want.”

  Brandon huffs and holds Emma tight, like she’s the only thing keeping him from losing his mind tonight. “Like a talk is gonna square me and that asshole up.”

  I hate to say it, but I do. “He may be able to help us with the other problem.” Brandon shoots me a heated look, so I back up a step. “I know it’s not ideal. You think I want anything to do with him after just catching him sniffing around Miss Scarlet?”

  Emma sighs at me, like I’m the dumb one instead of Saul, then looks up at Brandon. “Twitch is right, Master. The note makes me nervous for you and for our family.”

  The Note was received early this morning, slipped into the mailbox at our regular business, P.M.L. Property Investments. The message was simple, clear and troubling.

  ‘I know what you do on weekends.’

  Saul tried to laugh it off, like it was a trick being played by one of the club members in a I know what you did last summer kind of spoof. The joke concept died when we looked at the security footage for the front of the building. The logo on the truck that had delivered the message was unmistakable. Michael Forester was looking for payback, and someone had tipped the miserable bastard off about our other business.

  Now, none of us are really sure what to do about it. Our chosen lifestyle isn’t for everyone. It’s misunderstood. Hell, our society can’t even except the simple idea of two men loving each other, much less if those two men happen to like wearing leather while one paddles the other.

  A slapping cry from the stage brings that thought home just before Joey’s moan of ecstasy fills the club. No, most people wouldn’t even try to take five minutes out of their self-absorbed, cookie-cutter existence to try and understand. They wouldn’t see how much Cam and Joey love each other. They wouldn’t care that it’s mutual and only taboo because society thinks it has any kind of right to decide how we choose to live our lives.

  “Twitch?”

  I snap my attention back to Emma. She’s smiling up at me with her beaming, baby doll green eyes. Emma has a special gift for seeing every part of a person, from the inside out. The sympathy in her eyes is genuine as is the encouragement in her voice. “Go check on her. I’ll work on changing Master’s mind.” She winks then giggles as Brandon spanks her butt.

  I glance to Brandon, knowing that Emma has already won the discussion that hasn’t happened yet. That man would do anything for her. Brandon shoos me out of the clubroom and I’m thankful for it. I’m not sure where Charlie’s disappeared to, but I think I need to take a few minutes to cool-down anyway. I nearly erupted when I caught sight of her an
d Crow together, but Emma’s right. I am the dumb one if I thought, even for a second, that anything was going on between the two.

  Doesn’t change the fact that she fled from my apartment on Wednesday and hasn’t spoken to me since. There is a high probability that whatever Charlie and I had been trying to form between us has used up all its restarts. I don’t blame her for bailing on me. I would too, if I could.

  I was prepared for it, that inevitable point at which my ticks become too much to handle or brush off. The fact that it was my slip with her name that chased her off is what bugs me. It wasn’t my ticks, my rechecking the door lock, my unplugged stove or even the gallery of her artwork. It was simply her name. Charlotte.

  My brain has been obsessing over that nonstop for two days. Why does she hate her name? Why had it made her look so upset? Why is she standing in my room?

  I close the door slowly behind me after walking into my room and finding Charlie standing by the window, next to my telescope, her silhouette outlined by moonlight. She’s dressed in a similar outfit to last week, except the ribbon laced down her back is blue. She’s also wearing a long-sleeved, black latex shirt under her corset that covers every inch of skin up to her chin. Even her hands are covered by leather gloves resembling mine.

  “Hello,” she glances at me over her shoulder, her long fiery braid shimmering across her back with the movement, then she looks back out into the night. “Did Mistress Cat speak to you?”

  “No, I haven’t seen her.” I edge cautiously into the room. I leave the lights off because I don’t want to force Charlie to watch me flick the switch back and forth who knows how many times given my current emotional state.

  Charlie nods, and I wait for her to explain the question, but she points at the telescope instead. “You like astronomy?”

  I step closer. “I do, but Pierce is the real astronomy nerd.”

  “Kyle? Really?” She raises an eyebrow in disbelief, then corrects herself. “Pierce, I mean. Damn, I’m gonna slip in the clubroom eventually.”

  “It’s alright,” I try to continue the small talk. At least we’re talking. “We don’t have to use the nicknames when it’s just us, unless we’re roleplaying. But, yeah, Kyle got me that for Christmas a few years ago after I expressed an interest. I just like looking, but he keeps charts and logbooks.”

  “No kidding?” she laughs.

  Another step closer. “I keep it here because there’s less light pollution, and it gives me something to do on Friday nights.”

  “Because you don’t participate.”

  It’s a statement, and the truth hurts. Yeah, Friday nights are lonely, even when I’m surrounded by friends. My eyes lower. “Yeah. Brandon and I, well we used to play Gin Rummy, but now he has Emma to take care of. I don’t mind it, it’s just that solitaire can get old really fast.”

  “I want to change that. I don’t want you to play solitaire anymore.” Charlie turns away from the window and clears the remaining space between us. “I want to start over. With this.” She motions between our bodies, then touches one gloved finger to my chin to pull my gaze up. “I don’t want to forget last Friday or what happened this week, but I want to try again. If we end up playing cards or watching stars all night, that’s fine, but I want another chance to do this right.”

  “You want another chance?” The statement makes no sense to me. “I’m the one that,” her finger against my lips silences me.

  “We both messed up, Ian, but I’d like to try again.” She drops her hand and clenches it at her side. “If you want to, that is.”

  “Of course I do,” I can’t get the words out fast enough as I reach for her hand. Even with layers of leather between us, I can feel the energizing effects from her touch. I want more, so much more, but I don’t know how to make my mind and my body cooperate. “Charlie, I…”

  My voice fades, her beautiful eyes sucking the breath from me. I think back to the watercolor in my apartment, knowing that’s what I want more than anything. The two of us, together and inseparable. Before I can say what’s in my heart, possibly ruining this new chance, a knock on the door saves me. “Come in.”

  Victoria enters, fully dressed for Domination in royal purple and black. Her eyes glance to our hands and she smiles, then the smile disappears. When she speaks, it’s all business.

  “We have some corrections to make,” she begins as she closes the door behind her, flips on the light switch for the two wall sconces and marches into the room. “What happened last Friday will not happen again. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Mistress,” both Charlie and I speak at the same time, our hands still holding tight. Charlie’s right. We both made mistakes, and so we’re going to face Victoria’s whip together.

  “Good,” Victoria gives a single nod then hands Charlie three bundles of rope, the same black nylon from the storeroom. “Miss Scarlet, you will begin by demonstrating what you attempted to do, foolishly on your own and unsupervised, and I will tell you why it went wrong.”

  “Yes, Mistress,” Charlie lets go of my hand and bows her head while taking the rope. I hate seeing her being submissive like this, but I know it’s necessary.

  “And you,” Victoria switches her viperous gaze on me and I swallow hard. Yeah, she’s still angry with me for not stopping what happened. “Twitch, I expect you to act like a proper senior club member from this point forward. You can’t allow your emotions to overpower your common sense or the rules of The Stables. Understood?”

  My head and shoulders bow respectfully low. “Yes, Mistress Cat. It will never happen again. I promise.”

  “Very well,” Victoria takes a step back and motions towards the restraining bench in my room that has been there, unused, since day one. “Begin.”

  Charlie

  I’m both thankful of and aggravated by Victoria’s timing. I think Ian had been on the verge of saying something very important, probably too important and way too soon for either of us. We can’t even get through one date together, much less start discussing anything more serious like emotional attachment. Glancing to him as he sits down on the bench, I know that avoiding emotional attachment to him is a foolish battle.

  I’m pretty sure that, despite my heart’s earlier attempts to abandon ship, this ship is going down with all hands on deck. The beautiful man that is Ian Rider is a giant sea of concise complexities that is drawing me in like a whirlpool. Damn his eyes.

  I restrain his ankles to the bench like I had last week, waiting for Victoria to correct me. She remains a silent statue, standing with feet apart, arms behind her back and her spine straight. She reminds me of a drill sergeant, except her uniform is made from leather, latex and surgical steel. I’d rather face the wrath of some jarhead in camouflage than ever have Victoria disappointed in me again.

  I restrain his wrists, and I ask the same question I did last week. “Is that good, Twitch?”

  “Yes,” he starts, then stops with a quick glance to Victoria. When his eyes turn back to me, they are filled with unexpected shame. “It’s a little tight, Miss Scarlet.”

  I know I tied it exactly like I did last week, which means he lied to me before. A puff of air flutters past my lips, highlighting my dislike for this discovery. “Would you like me to retie it?”

  “Yes, please,” he whispers as he lowers his gaze from mine, giving me his final admission to his dishonesty. He did lie to me last week.

  I begin untying the rope, but Victoria steps in. “Stop. Miss Scarlet, what have you determined by Twitch’s behavior with the wrist binding?”

  I don’t hesitate to call Ian out on it. “He was dishonest with me last week when he said the binding was fine. Didn’t you, Twitch?”

  Ian’s lip stutters and he nods, his head lowering further. “Yes, Miss Scarlet. I’m very sorry.”

  Victoria tsks with a slow shake of the head. “What is the first rule of Submission, Twitch?”

  “Honesty with your partner,” he replies.

  “Honesty.” Victori
a repeats the word and lets it hang in the room for a few long moments. “Honesty is the foundation of everything we do here. Without it, you can’t trust. Without trust, you can’t build a proper bond. When honesty and trust breaks down between partners, it all falls apart.”

  I glance from Ian’s lowered head to Victoria as her voice loses its commanding tone near the end. I’m sure it has something to do with whatever is going on between her, Saul and Austin. It’s none of my business, but I hope, whatever it is, it works out for them. The club needs all three of them, and so does Emma’s new family. I glance back at Ian. Maybe my new family, too.

  “The fact that Miss Scarlet can read your body language so well,” Victoria continues, “is an encouraging sign. So, I will let your infraction go unpunished. This time. I assume you’ve learned your lesson?”

  “Yes, Mistress,” Ian keeps his head bowed for a moment longer then slowly raises his hazel eyes to me. “I promise. I will never lie to you again.”

  The way he’s looking at me, into me, leaves no room for doubt. A smile slips onto my lips as I reach out to caress his cheek with a gloved hand. “I know you won’t, sweetie. Now, hold still while I retie your wrists.”

  “Yes, Miss Scarlet. Thank you.”

  He returns my smile as I step to his side and redo the knot. A flicking glance to Victoria rewards me with an approving nod. After two attempts, Ian is satisfied with the tension level against his wrists. I slip two fingers between the rope and his wrists so I can gage it for next time.

  “Very good,” Victoria raises an eyebrow at my action. “When you mentioned you had prior experience with binding, I didn’t know it was this extensive. I thought you were like Emma – completely new.”