Fleur de Nuit: Bourbon Street Bondage, Book 1 (25 page)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Moira’s mind felt calmer when she woke again. The sluggish heaviness from whatever Adrian had given her had long since worn off, and her sleep, while not fantastic, had at least been free of any more nightmares. She stretched, wincing a little as the cut on her arm pulled, and sat up. A momentary pang went through her at Kara’s absence, before she spotted the note on the bed next to her.

Gone downstairs after some food. Come down. I know Adrian will be glad to see you up.

~K

Moira smiled for half a second, before it faded. She didn’t really want to go down, didn’t want to face Adrian or Devon, or even Kara, really. Justin’s reappearance had destroyed a decade of hard work and therapy. Even everything Adrian had taught her was lost in the return of her attacker. She pulled her legs up and hugged them. Despite what Adrian had said earlier, this wasn’t a bad moment. It was a full regression, a complete flashback.

And whether or not they caught Justin, she couldn’t do this to Kara again.

The idea hurt worse than anything her ex had done to her, but she knew it was the right choice. Kara didn’t deserve to be tied to this all over again. She deserved to be free.

Moira sniffed and wiped away tears she hadn’t realized had fallen. She’d tell Kara, and if it killed her to do it, at least Justin wouldn’t have the pleasure.

She pushed up off the bed and pulled on a robe before leaving the tower room and heading for the stairs. Adrian’s sprawling house was mostly empty, and it wasn’t until she was almost to the ground floor that she heard anything but silence. As she rounded the last banister at the top of the second floor stairs, the front door burst open in a flurry of sound, and Moira’s steps slowed.

Tamara.

“God, Adrian. I came as soon as I heard. Horrible thing. How is she?”

Adrian appeared from around a corner and kissed Tamara in greeting. “Maîtresse. She’s as well as anyone could expect, which is to say, not very. I’m worried for her.”

“And Kara?”

“I could barely convince her to leave Moira’s side. However, Gideon is calling in favors.”

“Gideon?” Moira stopped at Tamara’s obvious shock. “Jesus, Adrian. You brought him into this?”

Adrian shook his head. “There are some things even I cannot manage, ma chère. Gideon is happy to help.”

“I’m amazed he came willingly.” She shook her head and then caught sight of Moira. Adrian saw her focus change and turned.

“Moira, mon ange. How do you feel?”

Moira took a deep breath and came the rest of the way down the stairs. “Better, thank you. I’m sorry about last night.”

Tamara looked at Adrian. “What happened last night?”

Adrian opened his mouth, no doubt to give a whitewashed version, when Moira interrupted. “I freaked out. Flashbacked. Had no idea where I was.” She held up her arm. “Apparently put my arm through a vase. Adrian had to drug me.”

Tamara cocked her head and gave her a thoughtful look. “Adrian, would you mind if Moira and I talked alone?”

He didn’t answer but looked to Moira instead. Her eyes stayed on Tamara as she nodded. “Sure.”

Adrian shrugged. “Very well. My office is at your disposal. Mon ange, I’ll tell Kara you’re awake.”

“Thank you.” She watched him walk off, shaking his head, and turned back to Tamara. “Shall we?”

Tamara smiled and led her off to Adrian’s office. Inside, she gestured to the couch and closed the door. “Tell me about what happened.”

Moira pulled her legs up on the soft leather. “I told you, I—”

Tamara cut her off with a wave of her hand as she sat. “I don’t mean last night. I mean the night it happened.”

Moira went pale. She didn’t want to talk about it, hadn’t in years for fear of nightmares. She opened her mouth to protest, and then closed it again.
What’s the point? Not like I can freak out any worse than I did last night.

Curiosity won out over fear. She took a deep breath. “Kara and I shared an apartment on campus, and she wasn’t there that night. She’d gone out. She hadn’t liked Justin from the start, so she was always out when she knew he was coming over. We were supposed to go to dinner, but when he came over, he was acting weird. Nervous. Pacing, giving me odd looks.”

Moira closed her eyes for a moment, remembering, then opened her eyes, stared at the floor and continued. “He stopped in front of me very suddenly, with this weird grin on his face, and said he had something for me. And then he pulled an envelope out of his jacket and gave it to me. There were pictures inside, newspaper clippings.” She shuddered. “Pictures of another girl, the one he’d killed, staring bloody and lifeless, her body broken.” The memory came fast, now she’d opened the door. “I recognized her, of course. Amber Gerhardt. She’d been all over the news, all over campus. Hell, I’d had two classes with her, though we’d hardly spoken.

“I wanted to scream and couldn’t. I dropped them like they’d burned me and stared at him. He actually grinned at me. ‘She’s for you,’ he said. ‘I killed her for you.’ I’ll never forget the words or the look in his eyes. I felt horrified and betrayed. He’d been so kind, so attentive, and there he was, telling me he’d killed a woman for me. And then, while I was still trying to get my body to react, he dropped the last bit of insanity on me. ‘She’s our wedding present.’”

She glanced up at Tamara, who wore a horrified expression on her face, and couldn’t help the slightly hysterical giggle that bubbled up from within her. “That’s probably what my face looked like too.”

Tamara slowly shook her head. “That is seriously fucked up. What did you do?”

“I told him there was no way in hell I was marrying him. And then I ran for the door.”

“Good girl.”

Moira sighed. “Not really. He caught me long before I reached it. It’s like he snapped when I said no. He threw me up against the wall, screaming about how he’d done it all for me, and now I was going to be his.” She shook her head, trying to shake off the memory. “I fought so hard, trying to get away from him. But the harder I tried, the harder he beat me. Eventually, I passed out. And when I woke up, the nightmare had only started. He had me tied to the bed in his apartment. He beat me, raped me repeatedly, and if Kara hadn’t gone to the police, if they hadn’t found me, I know he would’ve killed me. As it is, I’ll never have kids.

“One of my therapists insisted I go see him after the trial, to prove that he couldn’t hurt me again. It didn’t work. He told me he’d find a way to get free, and then he’d find me and kill me.”

“God, Moira.”

“I know.”

“How long…?”

“Two days. Kara, well, you know her family. She screamed blue bloody murder when she couldn’t find me, and I didn’t answer my phone. And since she’s fucking Lexington royalty, the cops were motivated. The first place they looked was his apartment.” Moira let out a shaky breath. “His lawyer crucified me on the stand. I was his girlfriend. I must’ve gone to his apartment willingly. Even Kara had to admit under oath that I was meeting him that night. It wasn’t assault. It was just sex play. I tried so hard not to cry during testimony, but I couldn’t stop it. I was unreliable, an excitable, overemotional girl.” She took a shaky breath. The trial had been almost as much of a nightmare as the ordeal itself.

“Justin’s family was well off, and well connected. During the trial, rumor was they’d covered up things before. Lots of things. I believe it. The family lawyer would’ve made Johnnie Cochran proud. By the time he was done with me on the stand, he’d turned it all around on me. I was the hysterical woman, and that was that. The only thing that sealed his verdict was the other girl, the one he killed. There was too much evidence to play that one off, though his lawyer certainly tried.” Moira stared at her hands as the memories rode roughshod over her. “It’s always the victim’s fault.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, until Tamara finally broke it. “Moira—”

“I know. I have to let Kara go.”

Tamara raised an eyebrow. “That wasn’t what I was going to say.”

“But you agree that I should.”

She pursed her lips. “I’m not willing to go that far. Yet.”

Moira stared at the Domme. “I can’t put her through this again. And I don’t know if I’ll ever be whole, or if I’ll ever be what she needs.”

Tamara glared. “Moira, I understand you’ve been through something no one should ever have to go through. Frankly, the death sentence is too good for that bastard. He should be castrated and have his hands chopped off, and be stuck going through life helpless in the worst way. But you listen to me. I told you once that she needed a Domme who understood her and knew what she needed.”

“I know. That’s why I’m letting her go.”

Tamara gave her the kind of look Moira used on her students when they misbehaved. “What I didn’t say was that I knew there was a good chance that Domme could be you. I love Kara, but if it’s you she wants, neither you nor I have the right to tell her no. Subs are only subs because they choose to be. So stop letting Justin win. Get up and be the Domme we both know you can be, or so help me, I
will
take her away.”

Moira stared at her, shocked. “I don’t—”

“Oh, come off it, Moira. The woman who sat here and told me those things isn’t weak. She’s strong.
You’re
strong. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.” Tamara sat forward and stared at her hard. “You have an entire community of people ready to defend you. Don’t let them down by turning victim. Don’t let Kara down.

“Or maybe I will go that far, and suggest you’re not good enough for her. Because Kara needs a Domme strong enough,
willing
enough to fight for her. And if you’re not prepared to do that, you really don’t deserve her.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Tamara’s words the day before had hit Moira hard. The Domme had been right in thinking Moira was about to give up. She had never wanted to be the victim, to let Justin win, but somehow along the way, it had become easier. But the idea that it would hurt Kara more to let her go than to fight was something she hadn’t ever considered.

It had changed her thinking completely. Moira may still have been terrified, but she was ready to fight.

She took a deep breath and squeezed Kara’s hands. “You ready?”

Kara gave a weak smile, glancing at the door to Adrian’s house. “Are you sure you want to do this, Moira?”

“I need to.”

Adrian had come to them that morning. Neither his nor Gideon’s contacts had been able to find more than a trace of Justin. They knew he was around, but they also knew a man could hide for a long time in New Orleans, especially during Mardi Gras. Adrian in particular wanted him taken care of now. So they’d come up with a plan to draw him out, and they needed Moira to do it.

Kara had protested immediately, but Moira had agreed.

Which is how they ended up standing at Adrian’s front door, ready to visit Moira’s apartment. It was Gideon’s plan, and one that made sense. Justin would know she’d have to eventually return, if only to assess the damage. He’d likely be waiting, somewhere.

“I still don’t like it.”

Moira sighed. “I don’t either. But I can’t hide forever. You made me see that, you and Adrian.” She took a moment to steady herself. “Come on.”

“At the very least, we should have the cops involved. It
is
their job, isn’t it?”

Moira shook her head. “Gideon doesn’t want them. I don’t know why, and I don’t want to. Besides that, Adrian’s right. They’re too thinly stretched with Mardi Gras. It’s not like they’d have a lot of support to lend right now, especially on what they’ll see as only a slim chance he’ll show.”

Kara grumbled, but didn’t push, and Moira was happy for that. The law hadn’t exactly helped them, after all. Adrian and Gideon at least seemed determined that this would be the end, once and for all.

Outside, Devon waited with the car. The plan was for him to drop them off and wait around the corner. They had watchers in place, waiting, including Landry Boudreaux. Adrian had assured them they would be safe. It was an easy promise to believe, until now, sitting in a car that sped toward her torched apartment and a likely confrontation with the man who wanted her dead.

Her heart was racing by the time they pulled up in front of Tony’s shop. Kara squeezed her hand tightly before Devon opened the door.

“Mistress.” Moira jumped. Devon’s deep voice always surprised her, mostly because he so rarely spoke. “I’ll be right around the corner, don’t forget.”

“Thank you, Devon.” She watched as he got in and pulled out into traffic before having the nerve to look up at her apartment.

Tony’s shop boasted a large scorch mark and a
Closed for Renovations
sign. Moira’s gut clenched. She felt awful that he was losing sales during the biggest tourist weeks in New Orleans. She could see bits of glass still littered the sidewalk, though the Mardi Gras crowds seemed oblivious to the damage, the black streaks and blown out windows. The insanity of the contrast almost made her laugh. So many people, wandering around in the biggest party of their lives, bright music and happy throngs all around her, while the place she’d called home for eight years stood destroyed, nothing more than a burnt out shell.

Kara’s arms wrapped around her. “Adrian said it’s not as bad as it looks.”

Moira closed her eyes and sank back against her. “I know. Come on, let’s get this over with.”

Together, they ducked under the yellow tape that boldly pronounced
Crime Scene—Do Not Cross
. Adrian had assured them they wouldn’t get in trouble, but Moira still felt like they were doing something wrong. At least, until Kara giggled behind her.

“I’ve always wanted to do that.”

Moira looked back at her. “What, cross police tape?”

“Yes! It feels so naughty, even though we have permission.”

Moira shook her head and grinned. “Only you, Kara.” She stopped outside her door and took a deep breath. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

Kara hugged her again. “Remember, Adrian got most of your things out.”

“I know, I…I don’t have a home anymore. And opening this door is going to make that real.”

Kara squeezed her tight. “You do have a home. Several, in fact, between Adrian and me.”

Moira leaned into her. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Kara.”

“You’d be fabulous. I know it.”

Moira shook her head. The words were all there, on the tip of her tongue, waiting to be said.
Kara, I love you. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I’ve wasted so much time.
But now wasn’t the time or the place. When this was over… Moira shook the thought away. She needed to deal with Justin first. Justin, who’d ruined her life, the constant shadow over everything she did.

The sudden surge of anger surprised her. But Moira latched onto it and shoved the door open.

Inside was a disaster.

A charred, black lump sat where her couch used to be. Apparently that had been the focal point of Justin’s rampage. The wood laminate buckled in places, and the white plaster and red brick walls were coated in varying levels of black. Her TV was smashed and half-melted, the cabinetry broken. Moira swallowed a sob and pushed forward into the bedroom. Justin had lit a second, smaller fire in there. Her bed was ruined, her side table smashed. The closet stood barren, except for a few black streaks.

In all, the damage was minimal, at least comparatively. But it broke Moira’s heart to see it. She bent to pick up a broken picture frame as she came back into the living room. A picture of her and Kara her first week in New Orleans. The glass was shattered, the picture inside half-melted from the heat and warped from the sprinklers.

“I hate this. I hate that he did this to you.” Anger dripped from Kara’s voice.

“Me too.” Moira set the broken frame on the bar that separated the kitchen from the living room. There wasn’t really any other place to put it. The kitchen, at least, seemed mostly unscathed. A small, sad laugh escaped her. “I wonder if there’s still ice cream in the freezer.”

She stepped forward past the bar.

“Moira!”

She didn’t register Kara’s warning until it was too late. Her hand closed on the freezer door the same time the knife pressed against her throat.

“You fucking bitch. I knew you’d come back.” Justin’s hot breath spilled across the back of her neck, making her shiver.

Inside her head, Moira screamed, fighting a battle for dominance over the panic. Outside, she was frozen, unable to move, unable to do anything as the reality of Justin’s presence stole the will from her body.

“Let her go, Justin!”

He snarled. “Shut up, bitch. I’ll deal with you in a minute. Right now, I need to have a little chat with my fiancée.”

“She’s not your fiancée, you sick bastard.”

“She’s mine!” Fury poured from him. “She’s always been mine! Ungrateful bitch. All the things I did for you!” He forced Moira forward, still holding her tight against him. “I’ll kill you, slowly, like I promised. And then I’ll have some fun with your friend.”

Something snapped in Moira’s brain. Tamara’s words came back to her, blazing through the panic.
Kara needs a Domme strong enough to fight for her.

“Like hell you will.” Moira’s head snapped back into Justin’s nose as all the self-defense classes Kara had forced on her came storming back. She pried at his thumb, pulling the knife away from her throat until it clattered to the floor, and then she smashed his instep and rolled him over her shoulder.

Her victory was short-lived. Justin screamed in rage, catching her foot as she ran. She slammed to the ground, the air forced out of her lungs from the impact.

“You won’t get away this time, you fucking slut! You’re mine!”

“Suck on this, asshole.”

Moira flipped over in time to see Kara wielding the baseball bat she kept in the broom closet. Justin howled as she hit him. Moira scrambled away as he let go of her legs. Grabbing the bat with both hands, he ripped it from Kara’s grip. He swung, and Kara fell to the floor.

“No!” The word was ripped from Moira’s lungs. She clawed her way up, but Justin was on her again before she could get to Kara.

He pushed her back down, straddling her on his knees, with the bat against her throat. Black spots danced across her vision as she tried to push the bat away. Justin’s face leered at her, the insanity plain in his eyes. Her detached brain wondered how she’d ever thought she loved him.

“We never got to finish our game, Moira. They came, and they took you away. We were supposed to be together forever, and they took you away!”

Justin’s weight shifted just enough for her to turn her head, sucking in the smallest bit of breath. Kara lay barely in her view, unmoving, and Moira whimpered.

“No!” The pressure of the bat was suddenly gone from her throat, and Moira gasped in a breath a moment before Justin’s hand crashed into her face. “You are
mine
. You look at
me
, not her!”

He rolled to his feet, dragging her with him, only to throw her against the refrigerator. Her head slammed against the appliance, leaving her dizzy and too slow to react when he grabbed her again, pinning her hands behind her back.

“I know how she looks at you, that bitch. How she’s
always
looked at you. She wants you, wants what’s mine. She always tried to take you away from me. But I know what you need.” He pressed against her, his head in the crook between her head and shoulders where she couldn’t head-butt him again. “You need a real man. You need me. You need what I can give you.”

The sound of his fly unzipping was as loud as a freight train in her ears.

God, not again.

She was pinned, Kara was unconscious on the floor…

Fight, damn you.

“Justin, please.” She wanted to spit his name, wanted to scrape the taste of it from her tongue. “Please, baby.” The words made her sick.

“Please, what? You want this, don’t you?” His hips rolled into her and she had to fight the wave of nausea that threatened.

“Let me see you.”

She could almost hear his lewd grin. “You always did like to watch, you little slut.” He flipped her around, slamming her head into the fridge again, and pinning her by the throat. “Maybe you want to watch while I take care of your friend.”

Moira’s fear vanished in a surge of rage. “Fuck you.” She slammed her knee into his balls.

He yelped in surprise and fell over, hands clutching his crotch as his face turned red. “Bitch!” Moira scrambled for the bat, swinging it at him with all the force she could, and then ran to Kara. Kara groaned and sat up, blood trickling from a cut on her cheekbone.

A sob escaped Moira. “Oh God, you’re okay.”

Kara’s eyes went wide. “Moira, watch out!”

Moira reached for the bat she’d dropped while Justin screamed. She pushed Kara back and swung, but Justin’s meaty hand grabbed the metal tip and wrenched the weapon away from her.

“You. You poisoned her against me!” He reached for Moira, who fought back, scratching at his arms and face. “For that, you’re going to watch me take care of her. I’m going to fuck her like a man before I kill her, and then I’m going to do the same to you.”

Moira screamed, full of anger and hate for this bastard who’d taken everything from her. He
would not
take Kara. She kicked at the side of his knee hard enough to set him off balance, then jabbed her flattened hand, knuckles curled, into his throat.

He choked, but didn’t release his grip on her arm. At least, not until another body went flying into him.

She fell to the floor, seconds before a loud, thudding crash. And then Kara was there, clinging to her.

Moira held Kara tight, reassuring herself. Behind them, the scuffling sounds continued, and she forced herself to slowly pull away and look across the room.

Landry stood beside the burnt out couch with a scowl on his face, holding Justin tight in a chokehold, while two other men held him steady and injected him with something. A moment later, Justin’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he fell to the floor with a thud as Landry let him go.

“Oops.” Moira raised an eyebrow, and Landry winked before walking over to help both of them up. “You ladies all right?”

“Is he dead?”

“No, ma’am. Only knocked out.”

Moira stared at him and felt her anger surge again. “Part of me wishes he was.”

Kara snorted. “All of me wishes he was.”

Moira pulled her into a hug, and they stood like that for a few minutes. When they broke apart, Devon was there, and one of the other men was on the phone.

“Yeah, we got him. They fine. Sho. We take the big man too, a’ight?” He looked up finally once he ended the call and turned to Landry. “Boudreaux, you take th’ ladies back i’ th’ car. Big man, you heppin’ us wit him.” He tipped his bowler hat at them, and before Moira could decipher his backwoods Louisiana drawl, they’d bundled Justin up and were gone.

Moira turned to Landry, who wore a bit of a smirk. “What just happened?”

“Trust me, Miss Moira, you don’t wanna know.” The smile faded quickly, though. “I only wish we’d come in sooner. It took us too long to figure out he was already here.”

Moira shook her head and sighed. “You stopped him. That’s all that matters.”

Kara squeezed her hand. “
We
stopped him.”

Moira shook her head, too emotionally drained to argue words. “Let’s go home.”