Arrested By Love (16 page)

"She announced rather loudly that she does not want to see you again under any circumstances, she did add never, but I kind of doubt she really meant that. I know, it's just her hurt feelings talking. Even so, as upset as she is right now, I have no choice but to respect her wishes."

Kyle nodded, he understood. He didn't like it, but he understood.

Morgan patted him on the back. "You're a good boy, Kyle, and you've done wonders for my little girl. She would light up with joy like a Christmas tree every time she talked about you--that is until today. I'd like to say that I support you, and want you two to work it out. And though I wish with all my heart the second part of that statement will eventually come true, I have to give all my support to my daughter right now."

Kyle felt as if he'd just been punched in the stomach. "I can't even see her or talk to her for five minutes?" he asked, already knowing the answer, but needing to ask anyway.

"Not even one second, son. I'm sorry."

Kyle nodded again, but inside he felt like he'd been hung, drawn and quartered. He tried to smile, and failed miserably. Finally he said, "I opened her gift after she left."

Mr. Morgan smiled broadly. "I have to tell you that she had the whole family involved in that project, and there were times when I thought she was going to burn the house down with her language. I've never seen her work so hard on anything before, but I think she did a stupendous job. It looked professional to me. She was very proud of it, and was hoping to surprise you with it last night, so you could bring it into the station and share it with your buds today.

"By the way, happy birthday, son."

"Thanks," Kyle answered.

"Sorry it had to end so badly," Mr. Morgan said, sliding his hands into his back pockets.

Kyle hesitated then said, "Mr. Morgan--"

With a shake of his head, Morgan cut him off. "No, son. It doesn't matter what you want to do or say, right now. She's the only one who matters to me."

"She matters to me, too, sir. More than I can say. Could you at least give her a message for me?"

"I'll listen to what you have to say, Kyle, but I can't say that she'll want to hear it, or she'll even let me relay it."

"I understand. Just tell her that I loved her present. It was the best gift I've ever received, and it was as perfect to look at as well as delicious. And if you can, please let her know that I am so proud of her for what she did."

Mr. Morgan nodded. "I'll see what I can do to get her your message. Now, son, I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but I'm afraid you're no longer welcome here. As difficult as it is, I suggest you do not attempt to see, Tiffany, write her or talk to her. She may change her mind in day, even in an hour, but right now, boy, you no longer exist in her world, and by extension ours.

"We can't even mention your name right now. And as much as I hate to say it, I have to ask that you respect her wishes."

Kyle nodded and felt his eyes tear up. He hadn't cried since he was an infant, but the devastation he currently felt was almost too much for him to bear and he really wished he'd worn his glasses. He wasn't about to cry in front of Mr. Morgan, but everything inside him hurt so badly that he found it difficult to even catch a breath.

Blinking his eyes, he looked away and whispered, "I'd best leave then."

Patrick Morgan patted his arm. "I know it's hard, boy. It's difficult for all of us right now, and I wish to hell I could just let you do what you want to do. I can tell you love her deeply, so hold onto the thought that she's a strong girl and she's loved you for so long that's she sure to change her mind and at least listen to what you've got to say."

Kyle nodded. "I'll try to keep that in mind, sir. Thanks."

Morgan took a step back. "Good luck to you, son. I really do wish you the best."

Kyle just gave a wave and returned to his car. He managed to drive back to his place without killing anyone or breaking any traffic laws, and even got all the way inside his apartment with his front door shut before everything inside him broke, and he cried like a baby for the first time he could remember in over twenty years.

By the next morning, Kyle was going crazy and decided he simply had to try and get Tiffany on the telephone. He knew Tiffany's father was right, but he couldn't just let it go. It wasn't in his nature to let something this important just slip out of his fingers. However, every call he made went directly into voice mail. After his seventh attempt, he stopped, realizing that the Morgan's must have caller id. They knew his number, and they were clearly refusing to accept his calls.

The following day, which was Sunday, Kyle refused to stay in his apartment and mope any longer, so he went card shopping. He must have bought fifty 'I miss you' cards ranging from raunchy and funny to serious. He intended to send her one card each day with a note. He'd keep the notes short, since he had no assurance they wouldn't simply be thrown away. Then he laid out a strategy on how he was going to send them.

By Monday he was feeling a bit more optimistic. Mr. Morgan was right. Tiffany did love him, she just needed some time to get over her hurt feelings. He would have done anything he could have to spare her hearing what Kelly said on Friday, but what was done, was done. He needed to tell her about Kelly anyway, so now he had to be upfront about his situation and tell Tiffany exactly what happened.

It wasn't like he and Kelly were still sleeping together. He hadn't been with her since just before Christmas last year. His reason for going to the club hadn't been to cheat on Tiffany, but to ensure that Kelly no longer caused any problem for him, and by extension her. It looked to him like Kelly and Jim would find a way to work things out between them. Kelly's emotions had been far too strong for her not to care for Jim, and when he wasn't berating her for throwing a temper tantrum, Jim's actions toward Kelly were actually quite gentle and loving.

It was late morning when Kyle spotted Jim standing by the coffee machine in the station's break room, just staring at it with his coffee cup in hand.

"Thinking of cutting back?" Kyle asked with a slight grin.

Jim shook his head and poured himself a cup. Like Kyle, he preferred it hot and black.

"Want to go outside and talk for a minute?" Kyle asked, helping himself to a cup.

Jim shrugged. "Sure, why not? I'm sure you'd like to be reassured that I didn't kill your former sub on Friday after you left.

Kyle gave a halfhearted chuckle at that. Actually the thought that Jim might have seriously hurt Kelly had never even entered his mind. They stepped outside on the patio that had been set up for officers who liked to smoke, since the government building had adopted the new "no smoking" policy. Smoking was not a vice that Kyle or Jim could lay claim to, though they had more than made it for it in other ways. Besides, the area offered tables, seats and shade, so it was nice to just come out and sit for awhile.

"I'm sure Kelly is just fine," Kyle said after a few minutes. "I watched you with her, and though you were firm enough to occasionally cause her a little pain, you weren't cruel or harsh."

Jim sort of chuckled at that. "Wish I could say the same about Friday night.

"God, Kyle. I just don't know what to make of that filly. I was so angry with her on Friday that I was almost ready to kill her. Almost."

"I know she can be difficult, Jim, so you don't have to tell me what happened unless you want another Dom to talk to," Kyle said, knowing how difficult it was to tread the fine line between domination and obsession or abuse.

"Actually, I'd appreciate your thoughts, if you've got time. I'll bring you up to speed on what happened, so you can understand where I'm comin' from, then tell you what has me most concerned." At Kyle's nod, Jim said, "I pretty much reduced her down to the status of a slave on Friday, but when we got to my place, I noticed her wrists were raw and nearly bleedin' from the handcuffs I'd put on her.

"I gotta tell you, Kyle, that seein' that made me feel real bad. Primarily because she never complained about 'em. Not once. So I put some first aid cream on her wrists, then usin' my Dom voice, I ordered her to strip then stand in a corner of my bedroom to await my pleasure. After that, I basically just left her and went to sit on the couch in my livin' room.

"I didn't check on her to make sure she obeyed me, nor did I check to make sure she wasn't in any physical distress from my order, which wasn't very likely, but still--I should of at least checked on her once durin' the hour. But, hell, I wanted that filly sweatin' bullets before she saw me again, so I made her wait her time, just standin' in her little corner and stewin' over what was gonna happen to her.

"After her hour was up, I called out and ordered her to fetch the paddle from my bag and bring it to me. I didn't make her crawl across the carpet with it in her teeth, but I sure was tempted to. She'd been cryin' and I could tell from the way she trembled, that she was scared--real scared. It wasn't cold that caused her to shiver and tremble like a saplin' in a hard rain storm. It was out and out fear.

"Even knowin' that, I was determined to put her through her paces somethin' fierce. So, I made her go through 'em all by the book . Ordered her to kiss the paddle, offer it to me and then beg me to use it on her, the whole nine yards. Anythin' I could do to make this punishment more humiliatin', I did.

"I had already determined she'd earned about forty good hard swats on her bare butt for her inexcusable behavior Friday, but wanted to see what she would say. So, I asked what she thought her punishment should be. I hate to say it, but I nearly fell off the couch when she said one hundred. God, I was afraid I'd hurt her bad enough with forty. With one hundred--I was afraid I'd kill her.

"So, I put the fear of Jim in her and told her exactly what she was askin' for with that number. She cried some, but looked at me with those large baby-blues of hers wellin' over with tears and said she knew she'd made me real angry....

"Hell, I didn't disagree, she had. And she said, given all the trouble she'd caused me, that she believed she deserved at least that many. At least! I figured the woman had to be out of her ever-lovin' fuckin' mind and was worried for a moment that I was attemptin' to paddle a woman who was legally insane. After I painted her a picture in which she was barely alive afterwards--well, maybe not that bad, but close, I told her I wouldn't be a'tall insulted if she chose to revise her figure by another 25 percent. So, she agreed to seventy-five.

"That was still way more than I was comfortable dispensin' on her slim body. She's nicely rounded, yeah, but she doesn't have that much paddin'. But we settled on the number, and I warned her the last swat she received would be as hard and painful as the first, so she'd best get her mind around that quickly.

"Then I asked if she needed some water, or a chance to use the bathroom before we began, and I gave her twenty minutes during which she had permission to wash, drink, or empty her bladder or bowels. If she did anythin' else, cryin' and wailin' excepted of course, strokes would be added. Then I said 'no' when she asked permission to close the bathroom door. I told her it needed to stay open the entire time she was in there.

"Hell, I'm not some pervert who gets his kicks outta makin' women perform their bodily functions before an audience. And I had absolutely no desire to watch the woman pee, but I was afraid she might get scared and do somethin' stupid, so I wanted to be able to hear her clearly.

"The first fifteen minutes of her time were spent with her just sobbin' her eyes out. So, at the five minute mark I called out and reminded her what she was in there for and suggested she get to it right away if she didn't want me addin' strokes. And that was somethin' I definitely did not want to do. So I made sure she knew exactly how much time she had remainin' before she had to be kneelin' before me again."

Taking a pause for a sip of coffee, Jim ran a shaking hand over his eyes. "I know she's almost thirty years old, but when she stepped outta that bathroom into the livin' room, eyes red, body tremblin', she looked no older than twelve to me, and I felt like a child abuser.

"As a Dom, I have punished my share of women before, and I've paddled a whole slew of 'em both at the club and privately, but this was the first time I almost felt nauseous about carryin' it out. All the same I--" Jim's cell rang, he checked it then held up a finger to Kyle to indicate he'd need a minute, before he answered it, "Evans."

Kyle thought he heard a woman sobbing. "What's wrong, Kelly?" Jim asked, leaning forward in his seat with obvious concern. "Kelly, stop cryin, darlin' I can't understand you."

Chapter Eleven

Kyle almost fell off the bench when Jim suddenly shot to his feet. "Who found you?" he demanded. Kyle couldn't hear Kelly's response, but Jim said, "I need more information than that, Kelly. Where are you?" A pause. "Home? Didn't you have work today?" Giving an abrupt nod, he added, "All right. Are all your windows locked and secure?" Another pause. "Front door still locked? Good girl. Stay in your livin' room away from any windows and I'll be there as soon as I can."

Then Jim nodded. "Right. See you in a few," he replied and the moment he hung up, Jim turned back to Kyle. "What do you know about a 'Mike?'"

"Not much. I believe he was her Dom before I was. Why?"

"So, was he the one who messed her up inside?"

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about. I wasn't aware anything was wrong with Kelly."

"When I examined her, I saw some scarrin'. The type of scarrin' a woman gets when a man is puttin' things up her rectum that had no business bein' there. You never tried to do anal with her?"

Kyle shook his head. "No. I guess not. I'm not sure why exactly, but for some reason we never did that."

Jim nodded. "No doubt she subtly steered you away from that activity. I threatened her with a butt plug yesterday and thought she'd pass out from the mere mention of it. Somethin' happened to her, Kyle. Somethin' bad. And I think this 'Mike' asshole is responsible for it.