Read Iron Cross: The Dartmouth Cobras #6 Online
Authors: Bianca Sommerland
“Then you have no one at all.” Scott settled back into his chair as one of the cops came into the room and gave him a warning look. “If I were you, I’d plead guilty and see if I could get shipped back to California. You want to fight this, then just know I will be testifying against you. I will tell them how long you blackmailed me. Wasn’t that long ago; I could still press charges.”
“I’m warning you, you son of a bitch, I’ll tell everyone—”
“What, Jimmy? That I was sexually abused as a child? Go for it, I have nothing to be ashamed of because I did nothing wrong. I was little boy, and you twisting what happened to me into some kind of advantage makes you a sick fucking bastard. That’s on you, and I suggest you get some good therapy while you’re in prison.”
“You think I had it easy? You saw what I went through. You’re my brother and you can’t just turn your back on me!”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing, Jimmy. I’m turning my back on you. And as far as I’m concerned, you’re not my brother anymore. You are nothing to me, so don’t try to contact me or my family again.”
“I know people, Scott. They’ll come after you and I’ll tell them—”
“You don’t want to do that.” Scott stepped right up to the glass, gritting his teeth as he spoke. “I’m sure you’ve heard of Roy Kingsley? Big deal crime boss who was connected to the Cobras? He was killed in the same fucking prison you’re going to. Would hate to see the same thing happen to you.”
Jimmy paled and tripped backward.
The cop who had come into the room came over and put his hand on Scott’s shoulder. “You’re done. Let’s go.”
Hanging up the phone, Scott looked at Jimmy one last time. Then nodded and followed the officer out. “You’re right. I’m done.”
Palms sweaty, his whole body trembling, Scott walked out of the police station as fast as he could. Head down, he strode across the parking lot toward his car. He heard someone running in his direction and stopped, lifting his head.
Tyler slammed into his side and fell on his ass. Luke avoided falling over Tyler, but hit the back of Scott’s car pretty hard as he stumbled sideways and started laughing.
“Is this supposed to be moral support, or are you guys trying to escape?” Scott leaned down and helped Tyler up. “Because if it’s the latter, you can take my car, but you’ll be playing Thelma and Louise on your own. I’m going home.”
Dusting himself off, Tyler cocked his head at Scott. “Who the hell are Thelma and Louise?”
Luke rolled his eyes and rested his arm on Tyler’s shoulder. “We decided you might want to go out for drinks after dealing with this.”
“Fuck no!” Scott laughed and punched Luke’s shoulder. “We agreed to once a month.”
“But are you okay? I mean, that couldn’t be easy and the fucker is your brother and he’s probably going to be in jail for a long time.” Tyler finally took a breath, then kept right on going. “You need a distraction. So do I. So does Luke. Do you know he’s having a baby? Well,
he’s
not, but Sam is and—”
Putting his hand over Tyler’s mouth to shut him up, purely out of habit at this point, Scott shook his head. “Congratulations, Luke. I think. And you’re my brother, Tyler. And so is he. Which means no more of you two making out. Wanna come to my place and chill for a bit?”
“You sure Pearce and Becky won’t mind?” Tyler checked his watch. “I can hang for a bit, but they must be getting sick of me.”
“They won’t mind. And Casey will be happy to see you. She got some new nail polish. Sparkles and all.”
Luke grinned and held up his hands. The crusted remnants of black polish showed around the edges of his nails. “I could use a touch up.”
“Yeah…no sparkles for me, thanks. Last time Laura used sparkle polish she had to wrap aluminum foil around her nails for like an hour to get it off. And that shit was on everything.” Tyler blushed and ducked his head. “And I mean
everything
.”
“Kinky!” Luke snorted and slapped Tyler’s shoulder. “You know you’ll let Casey use whatever she wants, kid. She’s got the three of us wrapped around her little fingers.”
“Come on, let’s get out of here. You guys drive or—” Scott didn’t see either of their cars. If they’d planned to drink, they’d probably left them at home.
“We took a cab.” Luke nudged Tyler toward the passenger side of the car. “Take shotgun so you can tell Scott your suicidal plans for the night. Maybe he can talk you out of it since you won’t listen to me.”
Once they all got in, Scott pulled the car out onto the street and glanced over at Tyler, waiting for him to start talking. The kid was being quieter than usual.
“I don’t want to talk about my plans.” Tyler shifted sideway
s in his seat, his blue eyes shadowed with concern. “This couldn’t have been easy. Seriously…are you okay?”
“I’ve got my man back. My woman and my little girl are home, waiting for me. My best friends showed up at exactly the right time to remind me how fucking lucky I am.” Scott looked out at the maritime city he’d come to love, the trees along the street, the earth, all showing the first signs of new life despite how long the deathly chill of winter had tried to hold on. The skies were clear and the sun shone bright off the stretch of blue horizon. He grinned at Luke in the rearview mirror, then over at Tyler. “I’m gonna be fine.”
S
erving drinks and absorbing the familiar sights and scents and sounds of the club kept Chicklet from looking over at the door every five seconds, but she couldn’t stop checking the time. She wasn’t used to waiting on her subs to join her, to doubting if they would even show up. She scowled as a couple of giggling young women who didn’t seem to belong to anyone sat at the bar, sloshing drinks she hadn’t served them all over the place.
Across from her, Raif stood and swiped the beer off his leather pants. The girls didn’t notice him until he was standing right behind them. Then they both went white and gaped up at him.
“Who are you here with?” His tone was deep and dark, and Chicklet smiled as the girls cowered and pointed at a man standing in a crowd near the area where Bower doing an electro play scene with Silver. Chicklet didn’t recognize the man from the back, but Raif clearly did. “White!”
White came over, looking confused. “What?”
“These are your subs?” Raif said “subs” like he sincerely doubted the word could apply to the bimbos.
And White shook his head. “They kinda followed me in. No one’s watching the door.”
Bad. Very fucking bad.
Chicklet slammed her beer-soaked rag against the bar and went over to the employee list on the wall to see who was security for the night. If it was Cam, she’d kill him. Lucky for him it was a new guy that Dean had hired from a local agency. Cort had been on staff for a while, but he’d had to be replaced when he started guarding Pearce’s family.
Which left them with no one since the agency guy had flaked out. They were also a Dungeon Monitor short since Pearce’s healing was more important than his taking his shift.
Chicklet groaned as Raif came to her side. “This is messed up. If we don’t have someone at the door, I’m going to have to close the place for the night. We can’t have random bunnies slipping in, already fucking drunk, disturbing the members.”
“This is when you say ‘I need your help, Raif.’” Raif kissed her cheek, which made her want to smack him. Cocky bastard. He chuckled when she pushed him away. “We’ll put White on the door. He can remove his…fans.”
“Okay, that could work.” She gave White a doubtful look. “If caveman can understand club rules. Do you speak stupid?”
“He’s not stupid. I know you’re impatient to see Tyler, but don’t be a bitch. It doesn’t suit you.” Raif smacked her ass, then went over, probably to explain the situation to White. Hopefully in dummy terms. If Raif wasn’t being so helpful, she’d consider dismemberment for his forwardness, but people were lining up at the bar and she still needed to get another dungeon monitor out there.
She hurried to fulfill all the drink orders and took stock of the players and regulars. Sloan had just finished a scene with Oriana, and had left her cuddled up on a couch with Perron to grab a bottle of water from behind the bar. He hadn’t been on the list of DMs lately, but he’d done the job in the past.
The only problem was she wasn’t sure how he’d react to her asking him. She respected him having Tyler’s back, even against her, but their friendship had become strained at best.
Fuck it.
The worst he could say was no. If he wanted to be a dick, they could hash things out here and now, no skin off her back. Maybe a few chunks of flesh off his if he wasn’t careful.
“Sloan!” She rested her forearms on the bar as Sloan looked over his shoulder at her. “We only have one DM on the floor for the first shift tonight since you and Shero told Pearce to rest. Can you put in a couple hours until Pischlar gets here?”
“Yeah, I can do that. But who’s going to man the bar?” Sloan’s lips curved in a sly smile as he jutted his chin at the entrance. “You’re going to be busy.”
Chicklet’s throat locked as she followed his gaze to see Tyler standing at coat check. With Laura at his side. She’d been prepared to speak to them both, but they weren’t dressed like they were here for a conversation. Tyler left his jacket—and his pants—behind, revealing snug black boxer briefs and a leather harness crossing his chest. Laura was wearing a black fishnet dress with nothing but a black thong underneath.
Both of them were mouthwatering, but it was the way Tyler held Laura’s arm as they moved through the crowd that floored Chicklet. In all the times they’d come here together, her subs had never given off the impression that they were together. Doms requested Laura for play because they knew Chicklet enjoyed sharing, but the questions about Tyler were usually bolder. As in “When you’re done with him, can I…?”
No one ever wondered if Tyler would object to them playing with Laura. And that included Chicklet. Seeing them now, she had a feeling things were going to change.
“I’ll call Ford.” Sloan patted Chicklet’s hand. “Go to them. It’s still early—there aren’t enough people to need two DMs yet. Dominik can keep an eye on things for a bit longer.”
She nodded and made her way toward them. Took note of the way Laura’s fingers dug into Tyler’s arm as she approached. The way Tyler stood just a little taller as he looked at Chicklet, then past her. Chicklet could sense Raif behind her. And even though she knew she could handle her subs on her own, she was grateful for his support. Things had taken a turn for the worst because she’d gotten too comfortable. Maybe even complacent. He could help her make sure that never happened again.
Tyler stopped with Laura, a few feet in front of Chicklet and Raif. There was nothing submissive in his stance or his tone. “We’re here to negotiate.”
Chicklet blinked at him, not sure what to make of his using the word “negotiate” instead of talk. Couldn’t be a bad thing, could it? He wouldn’t have anything to negotiate if he wasn’t coming back to her. She nodded and held her hand out. “The office and the kennel are still empty. We’ll have some privacy until the place fills up.”
Lips curving slightly, Tyler moved his arm from where it was hooked with Laura’s and slid it around her waist. “The kennel will do.”
Interesting choice.
Chicklet led the way, standing in the doorway after Laura and Tyler passed, and she realized Raif hadn’t come with them. He showed up after a couple minutes with both their toy bags. She blocked the door. “Presumptuous much?”
“Not at all.” Raif slid his cheek along hers and whispered in her ear, “I prefer to be prepared. Makeup sex is the sign of a healthy relationship. If I’m not mistaken, that is exactly what they want.”
Okay, he had a point, but she didn’t want to assume anything. “Makeup sex doesn’t require props.”
“Then you haven’t been doing it right, my love.” He kissed her neck and sidled past her, dropping the bag with a
thunk
. He put his hands on his hips and waited for her to join him, observing their subs who’d both taken a seat on the raw wood bench set in front of the line of cages and horse stalls. “We will hear your terms, boy.”
After giving Laura a one-armed hug, Tyler rose to his feet and cleared his throat. “We all know what went wrong…I think. Communication was kinda nonexistent. We’ve got to work on that. But first we need to put all this shit behind us. Laura needs to be punished.”
Chicklet’s eyes narrowed. She realized she was mirroring Raif’s stance, but if she didn’t put her hands on her hips she was going to grab Tyler and shake him. Who the hell did he think he was? “That’s not your decision to make, boy.”
“Really? Okay, how about you ask her? Or do we not get to discuss this? I came here to work things out, but if you won’t consider my suggestions—”
Laura latched on to Tyler’s forearm, blinking fast, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. “We don’t want to force you to do anything, but this is what we desperately need.” She dropped to her knees. “Please, Mistress. Make it harsh, make it real, but please give me a way to make this right.”
“Do you know what you’re asking, Ty?” Raif drew in a sharp inhale at Chicklet’s side. “If we agree to punish her, we all put this behind us. Is that enough for you? You can’t expect her to submit to a punishment and then bring it up again. That would not be fair.”
“I know how this works. I want this behind us. Talking isn’t going to fix anything. We all know what the problem was.” Tyler fisted his hands at his sides. “I’m not saying any of this right, but I’m trying. Laura and I have discussed everything. I’m not happy with how either of you handled this, but that’s why a punishment works. Giving one isn’t fun for you either. But once it’s done…”
Pressing her eyes shut, Chicklet nodded. Damn it, she hated this, but she finally understood what Tyler was getting at. Simplify everything. Give them all a clean slate. And she was well aware that a spanking wouldn’t be enough.
She would do what needed to be done, but only once she was sure Laura truly understood how harsh the punishment would have to be to satisfy them all. “The cane is the only thing that would suffice. I know you hate it, Laura, and I’ve never given you more than one or two lashes with it, but… Damn it, I would give you ten for disrespecting another Dom in the club, which you’ve never done. Fifteen if you swore at me.”
“I lied to you, Mistress.” Laura clasped her hands on her lap, keeping her eyes down. “I went behind your back and hurt the man we both love.”
Damn it!
The number would just keep going up. She was really liking Raif’s idea of makeup sex about now, but they couldn’t just skip to the fun stuff. “I refuse to give you more than twenty.”
“Thank you, Mistress.” Laura let out a sob as Tyler knelt beside her.
Which confused Chicklet until Tyler spoke. “May I share the punishment with Laura, Mistress?”
“
What
? No!” Chicklet glanced over at Raif who was frowning at Tyler’s bowed head. “You didn’t do anything wrong!”
“I’ve done a lot wrong, Mistress, but the point is we need to form some kind of unity for this relationship to work. Laura and I will submit to you and Raif. Together, you’ll decide what you want from us.” Tyler lifted his head, his pain-filled gaze showing how desperate he was for her to understand. “And there has to be an ‘us.’ There will be times when only one of us deserves to be punished, but I need to share this with her. Please.”
This was all kinds of messed up. Chicklet paced away from her kneeling subs, taking stock of the whips, canes, and floggers set up on racks along one wall. She rarely used toys provided by the club, but she hadn’t thought to bring her own cane. A gleaming aluminum rod drew her attention, but those were more fun with an electric charge. The thick bamboo cane… No, she preferred using those for sensual impact play. If she was going to be serious about this punishment—there was really no other way—she’d go with the Lexan cane. Virtually no risk of breaking…
Am I really going to do this?
She lifted the cane and weighed it in her hand as she returned to stand in front of Laura and Tyler. Tyler didn’t enjoy pain play, so he didn’t look too concerned when he saw the cane because he had little experience with them. Laura, however, swallowed hard.
“Safeword, Laura. I’m not fucking around with this. I get it, I really do, but you know this is not going to be pleasant for any of us.” Chicklet held the braided leather handle loosely and tapped the long, thin rod against her leather clad thigh. “We can find another way.”
“I won’t safeword, Mistress.” There were still tears in Laura’s eyes, but her soft tone held resolve. “I’m aware it won’t be pleasant, and I’m so sorry, but…I’m begging you to let me make this right.”
Chicklet nodded, tucking away her emotions so they wouldn’t interfere with her focus or form. She held out her hand to the door of one of the horse stalls. “Strip and put your hands on the ledge of the door. Arms straight, feet shoulder-width apart, ass out.”
Trembling, Laura rose with poise, removing her dress with the same sensual grace she always showed. Her posture was perfect as she positioned herself as instructed. The dim light in the room glowed on her pale flesh, and Chicklet couldn’t resist running her hand down Laura’s back, over the beautiful swell of her butt. There wasn’t a mark on Laura’s skin, and part of Chicklet was eager to see the red marks that would line her ass and thighs. But the sadistic urge was dampened by the knowledge that there would be no pleasure.
Taking her stance by Laura’s hip, Chicklet held the cane in a relaxed grip and looked down at her sweet girl, seeing her clearly for the first time in weeks. For too long, all Chicklet had seen when she looked at Laura was the manipulative, deceptive woman she’d become. But that woman wouldn’t be here now, accepting pain in return for her mistakes.
As much as she hated this, she couldn’t deny that the punishment would bring the woman she loved back to her. Would erase the suspicion and resentment. Chicklet squared her shoulders. “Tell me why you are being disciplined, my love.”
Letting out a shaky breath, Laura whispered, “I tried to tear apart your household, Mistress. I lied, I schemed, and I hurt you and Tyler for my own selfish desires. I attempted to use Master Raif to destroy our family. I’m disgusted with myself for—”
“None of that. You’re here, willing to pay for your actions.” Chicklet felt herself become more at ease with the whole situation as she prepared to dole out the first strike. “You’ve begged me to punish you, and I shall. But once this is done, we will all move on. Together.”
“That is what I need, Mistress. Thank you.”
Inclining her head, Chicklet lifted the cane. “You’re welcome, pet. Now count for me.”