“Clear,” he ground between his teeth.
“One more thing,” Gabriel stepped back, his palm moving to stroke gently over Bailey’s head. “Read your rules and guidelines for the club, Hampton. I also recommend you take a refresher course on what it means to be a dominant. Nowhere in either place will you find that it’s permissible to abuse a sub,” he gave an imperceivable nod to Dianna and the security staff.
“Some of the young want to make their own rules,” Jeremy commented, the others slowly retaking their seats and slipping easily back into the previous conversations. “I apologize for not moving faster, Gabriel.”
Gabriel was about to speak when he caught a flash of green before she hastily lowered her eyes again. He dropped to the chair, tugging on a red curl.
“You have something you want to say, pet?”
“Please, Sir,” she kept her gaze lowered. “I don’t want you to blame your friend. That’s all.”
“I don’t, Bee. I blame the idiot and I hope Dianna has a very good time with her task,” he said coldly, his palm gliding to her throat. His fingers dipped into the space between the collar and her throat, caressing and stroking gently.
He wanted to beat the bastard into the floor. Part of his brain thought of finding a more fitting collar for her. Something more personal than the slim piece of common leather. The other part of his brain had joined in the conversation about the economy and the various ways businesses could handle things without panicking.
An hour later, Jeremy listened to the whisper from his sub, Emma and looked at Gabriel.
“Emma would like to show Bee the restrooms,” he said with a slight grin.
“Bee?” Gabriel tugged on a curl and met the eyes that answered his question. He leaned closer to her, his lips brushing her ear. “Then I think we’ll play some more.”
Bailey felt her chest constrict, but she nodded. “Yes, Sir. Thank you.”
Gabriel resisted the urge to lift her to her feet, watching as she maneuvered with movements that must have become second nature to her after the accident. He watched the two women stride to the stairs and disappear around the curving structure.
Bailey breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you for the suggestion. I’m still a little unsure of some things,” she said as she washed and dried her hands. Gabriel’s words still echoed in her head. Play time. Those simple words sent a delicious shiver through her.
“No problem. They sometimes forget we need to pee,” Emma was a petite Asian with long black hair and slanted almond shaped deep brown eyes. “I’ve been with Jeremy for almost four years and he still forgets when we travel.”
“I…I’m going to put something on my throat. It’s a little sore,” she damped down some cloths. “I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
“Take your time. That jerk deserves whatever Dianna does to him,” she said vehemently, straightening the scanty costume, she checked her look in the mirror and left the large bathroom.
Bailey held the cold cloth to her throat, the thin leather collar lying on the counter when the door opened and a tall woman in all leather came in. She had enough of a look at the woman’s face before her eyes dropped to the floor that her heart began pounding erratically. She waited only until the woman selected a door and stepped inside before she fastened the collar again, her fingers shaking. She touched the mask, reassuring herself it was still in place.
Bailey dropped the cloth into the trash and moved quickly and quietly.
Maybe she’d come to her senses. Maybe all the events were crashing down on her at once. She wasn’t sure which it was, but she knew she had to leave. She had to find a space without Gabriel in it and get back to normal before someone recognized her.
Keeping to the shadows with head and eyes lowered, she made it to Marla and quickly asked for her clothing. Modesty was tossed aside as she stripped and handed the black outfit over to Marla.
“Are you alright? News travels fast,” Marla said when Bailey looked up at her. “Just because someone is a Dom doesn’t mean they’re good people. Some ignore the foundation rules of playing in the club.”
“I’m alright, thank you. I…I have to work in the morning though.”
“If it helps….Master Gabriel is one of the good ones.”
Bailey felt the coin and paper in her small bag and gave Marla a shaky smile.
“Thank you for that. Good night,” she hastily moved to the other set of stairs she had seen, quickly sliding through the drapes and gathering her cloak before stepping into the cold October night.
Bailey ignored the cold. That was easy. Ignoring the ache inside her was going to take a lot more effort than she had available right now, she decided, striding quickly past people going into the club. She found the town car and was relieved to see the young man studying and making notes. He collected his books and waited until she was inside, the silver cloak gathered tightly around her.
“Are you alright, Miss O’Conner?”
“I’m fine, thank you. It was a very fun party,” she said quietly. “I’m ready for sleep though.”
“Won’t take us long. Pretty quiet this time of night. Another two hours, and the streets will be crazy with people exiting the closing bars,” he chatted as he started the car and guided them to the streets.
Bailey was grateful when he stopped talking. She leaned her forehead against the cool glass and closed her eyes. The car moved smoothly along the roads, the cool night around them and the solid windows keeping the sounds far from her thoughts. Bailey wasn’t sure where her mind had gone, but before she knew it, he was opening the door for her and offering his palm. She found a smile somewhere and slipped her hand into his, climbing to her feet with a long breath. She gathered the cloak around her.
“Thank you so much. Good luck on your test.”
Maybe it was as simple as sensory overload, she thought as she wandered into her building, the heavy elevators doors closing behind her. It all seemed so…nothing, she thought, closing her door behind her and absently flicking the locks into place.
Quiet.
Absolute quiet.
But not serene.
She slowly removed all the clothing, folding it neatly and placing it reverently into the box. She laid the note and coin on top before adding the mask and the lid.
Sitting nude in her living room, she wrapped the red bow back around the box, slim, shaking fingers arranging the ribbon before she carried the box into her bedroom and slid it beneath the bed.
She was under the blankets before the clock said it was twelve-thirty, her ears still buzzing with all the activity that had filled her senses all night long.
Chapter Seven
Marla winced at the palm that slapped down on the counter.
“I am sorry, Master Gabriel. I…I didn’t know. She said she had to work tomorrow, changed clothes and left.”
Gabriel managed an apology before he stormed into his office, the door slamming behind him.
Why did she run? After all the idiots she weathered through the night, she just up and vanishes on him? Not that it was the only problem he had at the moment.
How the hell had she gotten his coin?
He threw himself into the desk chair, the lap drawer open after he unlocked it.
His coin was gone from the slot he’d had it in since he partnered with the two other principles for the club. That was four years ago. He’d never given it to anyone. He’d never taken it from his desk. And yet it was gone. Held captive by the redhead who’d disappeared just after midnight.
The pounding on his door didn’t help his mood.
“What?” Came the snarling demand.
“Got company, boss,” Curt stuck his head around the corner. “Cops.”
“Since when do cops give a shit about the club?”
“Since they found a dead body a couple doors down. A redhead dressed in a harem outfit,” Curt managed to straighten up and throw the door wide before Gabriel was across the room.
“Where?”
“Politely waiting in the outer office. Boss, slow down. It wasn’t her. The red hair was long and a wig,” Curt almost bounced against the hard body that stopped and turned to stare at him. He managed to look a little embarrassed. It was a close knit group of people working there. Talk was part of the charm. “Everyone saw you with her, boss. It wasn’t her, but the outfit is close to the same color and style.”
“Get security and check all the doors and rooms,” Gabriel ordered before turning and striding to the lower office. They’d never had problems with the police or government officials. All their licenses and certificates were kept in top order and their cliental, usually, of the higher standards. It irked him that on the night Bee came to explore, she was accosted not once, but twice by men pretending to play a game.
“Mr. Garrett?” Natalie Templeton stepped forward, her palm extended and smile polite. “Lieutenant Templeton, homicide. This is my partner. Casey Fields. We won’t bother you or your patrons, but we have some questions.”
“Lieutenant,” Gabriel took her palm with a firm shake. “Detective. Let’s cut to the quick. I can and will give you a confidential list of names of people who were here tonight and trust you and the city attorney’s won’t abuse it. I’ll expect it shredded afterwards, but I will need a warrant to provide you the list. We have security cameras. Again, with a warrant, I’ll give you copies of anything we might have.”
“You’re being very co-operative, Mr. Garrett.”
“Whatever you might believe, Lieutenant, the people who come here don’t murder people,” Gabriel shrugged at the look on her face. “It’s an adult only club and to appreciate it, you’d have to come by some evening. Do you have a picture of the victim?”
Natalie nodded to her partner, the small phone she held offered with the face of the woman.
“How did she die?” He shook his head. “So young. She looks barely twenty-five.”
“She was stabbed three times. She’s a natural brunette but there was a long haired red wig lying next to her,” Natalie watched his reaction. “You don’t know her?”
“I had a friend here tonight wearing almost the same costume,” he said slowly. “But she was a natural redhead, long, but curly.”
“What’s her name?” She had a note pad out, pen poised.
“That’s the problem,” he rubbed the back of his neck and handed the phone back. “Guests sign in. All members sign in. Charter members receive a gold embossed coin with a registry number on it,” he paced across the large office. “I met her tonight for the first time when she came to the club. I don’t know her name.”
“You just said…”
“All entrances are recorded,” he repeated firmly. “The problem is the coin that Bee used – and yes, that’s the name she gave me. Bee. Like the initial. She had a gold coin and the number on it was mine,” he faced them slowly. “Only I don’t know how she got the coin. I partnered with two others four years ago and we opened this club. In all that time, the coin that I was given never left my office desk upstairs. Until tonight when Bee somehow had it in her possession.”
“I think this is where I tell you how lame this sounds,” she said dryly, ignoring the snicker from her partner.
“Believe me, Lieutenant, it doesn’t sound any more lame than it feels,” he growled back. “I thought it was someone playing a joke, either on me or on Bee. But now…” His head shook slowly. “She said she came home from work this evening and found a large box wrapped in a ribbon on her doorstep. An envelope with instructions was attached to the top,” he moved to his desk and pulled a sheet of paper and an envelope from inside. “She showed me the note. It was typed on this kind of paper. My paper. My coin.”
Natalie carefully took the paper, intelligent eyes cruising over the tall, muscled man.
“Who has access to your office?”
“I have two. This one and the one on the upper floor. All the staff has access to the offices, the desks are locked and I have the keys,” he showed her the simple ring. “I also use that stationary at my professional office.
Immersive Games
,” he pulled his wallet from his pants and offered her a card.
“You don’t know the woman in the photo?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t. But I don’t know all the members. If you have a name, I can check and see if she was a member. Was she carrying an invitation? This wasn’t an open party, Lieutenant,” he told her with carefully controlled frustration. “It was closed and by invitation only. The only exception being, that members with coins can loan them for an evening to anyone of their choice. But the numbers on each coin are unique in that they correspond to the member it was originally given to. We don’t take chances with just anyone walking in and possibly hurting someone.”
“Her name was Susan Phelps. Twenty-six,” Natalie looked at her notebook and handed the stationary to Casey to add to their file. “Can you describe your mystery woman?”
Gabriel paced over to her, his eyes going to the floor and back.
“About five-seven, five-eight. Red hair, only it was genuine. Maybe a dark copper shade and thick, unruly curls. Green eyes,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “Not a reporter,” he recalled quietly.
“Excuse me?”
“She’s a programmer. IT department. I know because I asked if she was a reporter.”
“This is the Pacific Northwest,” Casey said dryly. “Everyone has an IT department. Can you be a little more helpful?”