DutyBoundARe (24 page)

Hello Kinksters,

I know I’ve thrown a lot at you guys the last two weeks. I’ve also blogged more than I have all year, and for that I’m sorry. I think I’m finally out of the slump. The world seems a little brighter around me, but maybe that’s because I’ve had some good things happening in my life lately.

For one, I’m playing again with someone I respect and care deeply about. I’ve also reconnected with my family, which isn’t exactly pleasant, but it is something that does me good. I’ve been missing that factor in my life, even if it’s not a picture perfect one.

The hardest part about dealing with everything I’ve blogged about lately is the emotional burden. Play has allowed me to excise some of the things I’ve had bottled up inside me for a while now, but I’m beginning to realize that I haven’t been the best steward of how I feel. Why am I blogging about this?

Because I think many of us think play can fix things. We turn to it to fill something inside of us, and while it satisfies something many of us were born wanting, it’s not everything. The truth is play can stir up more potent emotions than we’re ready to deal with. If you’re honest with yourself and your partner, it can be a beautiful thing to work through in your own time.

But what about the rest of us?

I’ve been feeling a lot lately, and I don’t know if playing has muddied the waters or not. I know now my emotional state is a bit rocky. I need to take ownership of that and figure out what my next steps are.

I’m starting to get excited about the Foot Fetishist book. I snapped this picture of my bare feet for your enjoyment. I think the artists behind the book would have liked it. Tried a new, matte black nail polish. I think it goes pretty well with the checkerboard floor.

Well, until next time these wandering feet land here again…

Stay Kinky,

KG

It wasn’t Lisette’s best blog. She chewed her lip for a moment and reread the lines, changing a few words, messing with the picture. She’d danced around the issue, and ultimately hadn’t even touched it.

She didn’t care deeply for Mathieu. She loved him. Was that love blinding her to what was going on? He’d ousted her from his apartment, deposited her here and was up to something. Her unease hadn’t been settled by the kisses in the car. She wanted to be sitting on his couch right now, demanding answers. Talking it out. They’d become kind of good at that sort of thing. And now it was gone.

“Something wrong?” Odalia carried the water bowl to the sink and turned on the tap.

“Oh, no. Do you have wireless, by any chance?” Lisette shifted and the wooden chair creaked under her.

Odalia’s kitchen was cute, mostly white cabinets, with a black countertop and patterned backsplash. The little dinette set was for four, but Lisette’s things took up most of the surface area.

“Yeah, let me grab the password for you. I never remember it.” Odalia set the bowl back on the ground and Creature lapped it up.

Mathieu had taken Gator home with him, and she missed the dog immensely. What would it be like when she left him? She’d miss both Mathieu and Gator. They’d burrowed their way into her heart so deep she didn’t know if she’d ever be able to let them go.

She logged into the wifi and put her blog in the queue. The rest of the blog staff could figure out when they wanted to post it. She closed the laptop, gathered her things and tidied up the space. It was growing late, but she wasn’t tired so much as restless.

Lisette wandered from the kitchen into the living room. The one bedroom condo wasn’t very large, so it wasn’t as if she could escape Odalia unless she went into the tiny powder room under the stairs.

“What’cha watching?” Lisette settled on the other side of the couch, Creature stretched out between them with his head on Odalia’s thigh.

“Not this.” She flipped the channel. “Cop dramas always get it wrong.”

Lisette snorted. “I’m pretty sure TV gets everything wrong. Don’t even ask me how many times I’ve seen people on shows prescribed pills by people who would never have that ability in real life.”

“Yup. It would be so easy to just have someone work with the script writers that knows their shit, ya know?” Odalia glanced at her, one hand holding the remote, the other propping her chin up.

“But then it wouldn’t make good TV or something.” Lisette rolled her eyes and watched the channels flip by.

“Okay, I can’t pretend I’m not curious.” Odalia turned the TV off and twisted to face Lisette. “You’ve been playing with Mathieu, haven’t you?”

Lisette stared at the other woman. Odalia hadn’t just pushed her off kilter, she’d thrown Lisette over the side of a cliff.

“Uh, excuse me?” Lisette replied as her mind scrambled to find an out. Her knee jerk reaction was to protect and deflect.

Odalia rolled her eyes. “Don’t play the ignorance card. Mathieu was born kinky and I know when he’s been playing and when he hasn’t. The vibes he’s been throwing off lately say he’s playing with someone, but it isn’t anyone I know. Which means you.”

Lisette gulped. “Uh…well…”

“Look, I’m not going to bust your balls or anything. I’d actually be happy to hear he’s getting a bit of his old self back. He’s been shambling around for months now, all brooding and depressed.” She scratched Creature’s head and the dog thumped the couch with his tail.

“Have you ever played with him?” The question felt as if it rushed out of her mouth when what she’d meant to say was that, yes, they had been playing.

Odalia stopped mid-scratch. Her gaze, wide-eyed and surprised, rose to Lisette’s face. “Hell no,” she said with such force it couldn’t be anything except the truth. “Don’t get me wrong. Mathieu is a great Dom and a fucking fantastic cop, but ew. He’s more like my brother. Seriously. Never went there. Never want to. In the spirit of full disclosure, he has done aftercare, but that’s it. We’re more like brother and sister than anything else.” She shuddered and shook her head violently, wisps of hair flying back and forth.

Lisette laughed. She couldn’t help it. Relief settled inside of her and she relaxed.

“So you guys have played?” Odalia pressed.

“Yeah.” Lisette squeezed her eyes closed and rubbed the side of her face.

“What? Was it bad?”

Lisette’s eyes snapped open. “No! No, it wasn’t bad. Great, really. Just…I don’t know.”

“He told us he had a friend from college staying with him. I’m assuming that was a cover.” Odalia grinned and Lisette could all too easily see Leo in it. A sibling with a bit of leverage, ready to torture the other.

“We actually did know each other in college, so it wasn’t a lie.” She couldn’t help smiling. He’d thought to keep her a secret and now everyone knew.

“What is the full story then?” Odalia was enthusiastic about Lisette’s role in whatever drama Mathieu’s life was.

“Nothing too exciting. We dated for a bit. Broke up. Went our separate ways.”

“And now you’re here because of some crappy ex?”

Lisette blinked. Mathieu had told her all of that? She’d shared her story on-line with her readers, but that felt more like telling a close friend. Odalia was still a stranger to her. But she was like Mathieu’s sister; they’d both said it.

“Yeah, Seth was the crappiest.” She raised her arm, sporting the scar.

“Holy fuck.” Odalia reached across the snoozing dog, took her wrist in hand and examined the scar. “I had no idea it was this bad.” From the stricken expression on her face, Lisette was inclined to believe Odalia.

“I’m still getting used to it.” She flexed her hand and focused on the feel of muscles, tendons and ligaments doing her bidding. Her arm occasionally got sore, twitched, or ached for no good reason. All little things to get used to or to work out the kinks of.

“Now I really want to know the full story.” Odalia settled back in her spot across the couch and gave Creature a few scratches.

“Not a lot to tell. I tried dating a vanilla guy and it blew up in my face. He found out after we broke up how kinky I was and attacked me. I moved. He followed me and assaulted me twice in Chicago before I was hospitalized for the arm. I left as soon as I could. Made some calls and came here.” The story no longer had the bite it had when she’d told Mathieu. Being with him, pushing past what had been done to her, healed little pieces of her.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Odalia shook her head. “This sounds a lot like…” She peered intently at Lisette. “Are you Kinky Girl from Kinky Girl Blogs?”

It was Lisette’s turn to blink. This had never happened before. No one had ever put the pieces together before. “Um, yes?”

“Holy fuck. Does Mathieu know?”

“You know…” Lisette thought for a moment. “I don’t think he does. He’s kind of a caveman about the internet, though.”

“Okay, so he wouldn’t know. But I know. Holy hell, woman. When I first got into kink that was the first site that really made sense to me.”

Lisette grinned. She’d always hoped the frank discussions on Kinky Girl would help someone, she’d just never expected to come face to face with the fruits of her labor.

“Oh my gosh.” Odalia stared at her, vibrating with excitement. “I’ve been following the latest posts, too. Mathieu is the guy? The one you were talking about?”

Heat crawled up Lisette’s chest and neck. “Yeah. He’s the guy.”

He was the guy who’d taken her heart. Again. Protected her when no one else could. And cared for her. It was almost like a fairy tale, except there wouldn’t be a happy ending. No matter how much she accepted she loved him, he couldn’t love her back.

Mathieu sat in the lone wooden desk chair
, in direct line of sight to the front door. All the lights were off, and he had his personal Glock handgun resting on his knee. Gator had calmed down and now lay at his feet. Mathieu kept his gaze on the thin sliver of light under the front door.

Time ticked by and the comings and goings in the building tapered off.

He had no way of knowing if Seth would find his apartment, but Mathieu wanted to be ready. What easier way than to solve this whole mess with a bullet to the skull during a breaking and entering?

It crept past midnight and Mathieu’s eyelids grew heavy. He jerked his head up a few times, shrugging off the desire to climb into the big, lonely bed. The apartment was lacking without Lisette’s presence. She’d made this a home with nothing more than a few cooked meals and herself. Grandmère would say home is where the heart is. Wherever Lisette was, that was home.

He needed to get Seth out of the picture before he set out to win Lisette back. It was crazy to think how much she’d changed him in just a handful of days. But maybe they were meant to be. Grandmère could probably tell him, but he doubted she would. She preferred to use her voodoo for healing. Hopefully he wouldn’t need her talents for a long while.

Mathieu couldn’t offer Lisette a future without safety, and Seth was detrimental to that. Mathieu would need a bigger place for the three of them, but he was ready to put this apartment behind him.

Footsteps thumped lightly down the hall. Mathieu wouldn’t have noticed except Gator lifted his head.

Mathieu stroked his Glock with his thumb and blew out a breath.

The footsteps drew even to his door and stopped. He could see the outline of something blocking the hall light. A figure or form paused in the hall. The doorknob rattled as it was touched, jostled, or tested.

Mathieu’s attention narrowed to the little gleam of light from the windows off the brass knob. He drew a line straight up, to where he thought might be the head, and lifted his gun. Seth was a killer. He wouldn’t get a warning from Mathieu.

A chime sliced through the silence and for the breath of a moment all was silent. As abruptly as they’d come, the footsteps moved back the way they’d come, with all the brisk purpose of a person with a mission.

Mathieu blew out another breath and absently scratched Gator. Maybe he was looking for phantoms, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that death had come knocking and he’d gotten lucky. But at what cost?

He got up and pulled his jacket on. It was time to see what stalked the night.

chapter Sixteen

Want

Mathieu stared down at the lifeless body partially tucked under some hedges. One arm was obscured by the greenery, while the other was tossed out, as if she’d been reaching for something. The well-manicured grass had been pulled up by the roots and clumps of dirt clung to her fingers. There were furrows in the ground where she’d kicked and thrashed, struggling against her attacker. Most telling of all were the marks left on her. The bruises around her throat. The goose egg at her temple.

“It looks like her left forearm is slashed as well,” the CSI taking pictures said to him.

Mathieu should have known Seth would strike again. He wasn’t afraid of the women seeing him. He knew the moment he struck they were going to die. But not Lisette.

“Hold the bush back for me, will ya? I need to get pictures of her or the examiner will bitch about it all day long.” The CSI edged around the body until he was at her head.

Mathieu circled until he could push the bush back enough for the picture.

The early light glinted off a silver bracelet circling her wrist. It was too big, too clunky for a woman. The camera flashed as Mathieu leaned forward, squinting to see the jewelry better.

“Stay out of my shot,” the CSI groused.

“Sorry,” Mathieu muttered.

He waited for the man to be done before crouching next to the body and carefully lifting her wrist. His blue gloves matched the veins that stood out against her ashen skin. On the silver plaque the words, Hunt or be hunted, were in bold block letters. A message? Seth’s calling card?

This was too serious. Too personal now.

Mathieu glanced around at the officers surrounding him, the people taking pictures, others holding the morning gawkers at bay. This was what happened when he sat on what he knew. No more.

He pulled out his phone and made a call to his sergeant. It went straight to voicemail, so he left a request to call him back. Mathieu wouldn’t say too much unless he was in person, but it was time to be honest. He’d need to bring Amber in on it, and be prepared to take whatever heat came off his admission.