Rude Awakening (19 page)

“What the…?”

He jumped up, disoriented, the side of his head throbbing. His world tilted and he staggered to a stop at the door, one hand on the wall, the other to his temple. Nauseated, he recalled leaving Ruby in the cage to receive a phone call, then, upon finding no one on the other end, making his way to the meeting room so he could take the stairs and return to her. In the upper hallway someone had coughed behind him and he’d turned to see who it was. A rough sack had been jammed over his head before he had the chance to set eyes on anyone, his arms were yanked behind his back, and a large hand held his wrists together as he was propelled along. He’d heard a door open and close, and then a low male growl. He was thrust in the chest and seconds later a sharp, blinding pain shot through his head, sending him spiralling into darkness.

Which brought him to now.

He opened the door, lurching into the hallway, the dungeon Ruby was in opposite him. He patted his pocket in search of the key, panic setting in when he couldn’t find it. Fear uncoiled in his gut, spreading far and wide—the kind of fear that left him weak, as though he was boneless, without substance. Someone had taken the key, no doubt about it, and he instinctually knew that someone had tricked him in order to get into Ruby’s dungeon.

“Fuck!”

Although he knew it was futile, he tried the door, and was surprised when it flew open. The cage was empty—as empty as his mind for a second or two, where he didn’t know what to do. Then that fear turned into anger and concern for Ruby’s safety and there was no stopping him. He blundered back into the hallway, noting the security camera lenses had been blacked out. Incensed, he ran downstairs and into the meeting room, glancing around, pissed off as hell to see the space empty. He darted out and into the lobby, staring at a couple who necked on one of the sofas then switching his gaze to the desk. Veronica sat in her usual spot, staring at him as though he was a wild, crazed thing, eyes wide, lifting her hand then reaching for the phone.

“Where’s Ruby?” he asked, racing towards the desk and slamming his palms down on it. “Where’s the woman I arrived with?”

Veronica took the phone off its cradle, finger poised over one of the buttons on the keypad. “She left.”

“Who with?” he demanded.

“I’m not at liberty to—”

“I don’t give a shit that you’re not at liberty.” He slapped the desk again, his skin stinging. “Who took her?”

“Took her?” Veronica smiled warily, a frown creating two deep lines between her eyes. “She looked happy enough to me when she walked out of here. All I can say is she was with another Dom. I assumed—”

“You assumed wrong. She used to be with an abusive Dom, someone who comes
here
, and I need to know his address.”

“I can’t give you that information, you know that.”

“Look. Veronica. Please.”

She shook her head.

“Then I’ll call the police and you can tell them,” he snapped, searching his pockets for his mobile. “Fuck it!” He leaned over the desk. “Give me that phone.” He snatched it from her.

“Shit, you’re serious!” Veronica said, standing and wrenching the phone back. She glanced towards the couple on the sofa then sat, tapping at her computer keyboard. “I am so not meant to be doing this, and if you’re asked, you didn’t get the information from me, right?”

“Whatever, just tell me what I need to know.”

She twisted her monitor so it faced him. He read the address and left the club without thanking her, mind full of what that bastard could be doing to Ruby right now, what he could have done during the elapsed time since Harry had seen her last, however long that had been.

In his car, he backed out of the parking lot, knowing he risked an accident on the ice as he swerved out onto the road. His heart thundered and he wanted to throw up, so damn angry that Ruby’s former Master had claimed her back. Harry gripped the steering wheel, navigating the roads and cursing every stop light, every person who chose to walk out in front of him, every other driver who occupied the streets.

It took less than ten minutes to reach his destination, but it was too much time as far as he was concerned. He drew to a skidding halt outside the house and leapt out of his car, raced to the front door and smacked the shit out of it with the side of his fist. A shadowy figure appeared on the other side of the opaque glass, and he bunched his hands ready to sock the bastard one.

The door swung open, and Nigel Freeman stared at Harry with a look of incomprehension. “Yes?” He frowned and lifted his chin.

“Where’s Ruby?”

“Ruby?” He appeared genuinely perplexed.

“The woman you left the club with. Where is she?”

“Oh,
Margaret!
” He shrugged. “She wanted to be dropped in the city centre. Said something about getting a bagel and coffee in that late-night place that just opened. Why? Is there a problem?”

“Late-night bagel place?”
I’ll fucking kill you if you mess me around…
“And where is that?”

Nigel smiled. “Now that I can’t tell you.”

A tic flickered beneath Harry’s eye. “You had better—”

“I can’t tell you because I don’t know, haven’t yet seen it myself, and I wouldn’t go there anyway. Bagels aren’t my thing. Listen, do you want to come in? I have her mobile number in my phone. I can give it to you. Just because we’re not together anymore, doesn’t mean I don’t wish her well with someone new.” He stepped back and held out his arm, an invitation for Harry to go inside. “Assuming she’s with you now, that is.”

“Yes, she is very much with me now.” Harry gave him a warning glare, hating the fact he was stepping inside this man’s house, but if it meant finding Ruby, he’d do it.

Nigel didn’t seem at all jumpy, like someone would if they’d taken a woman against her will. Maybe he had encountered Ruby after someone else had clocked Harry one on the head and left him in that dungeon. Maybe she’d got away from whoever the hell that was and asked Nigel to give her a lift into the city. But why the hell would she want to go to the bagel shop and have a coffee, for God’s sake? Why didn’t she ask him to take her to Harry’s house instead? Had she just been playing Harry, waiting for the right time to leave him? He thought about whether she’d have her phone with her, whether he’d even seen her
with
one, and came up blank.

Shit!

Grinding his teeth, he followed Nigel from room to room, getting the feeling the man was purposely making out he’d misplaced his phone and couldn’t find it. They ended up in the dining room, where Nigel let out a happy “Ah!” and picked up his phone off a sideboard.

“Here it is. Let me just scroll through and get her number. You can punch it into yours as I call it out.”

Harry took a deep breath. “I don’t have my phone. Please, just write it down.”

Nigel
tsked
good-naturedly and led the way back to the front door. He paused at a telephone table and scribbled on a pad, tearing the top sheet off and handing it to Harry. “Would you like to call her from my phone? Although…hmmm, I doubt she’ll answer if she sees my number come up. We had a pleasant enough conversation in the car, but she might get the wrong idea and think my seeing her again has given me ideas about getting back together, you understand? No offence, but I’m over her. She’s…not my type, I realised that just before we split up.”

Harry grimaced. “You split up? When?”

Nigel stared at the ceiling, thinking. “Oh, about a fortnight ago. She left on a Monday morning, bags packed, off into a taxi. Think she said she was going back to her mother’s. Would you like her address?”

Harry nodded, mind whirling with this new information. It was looking more and more like Ruby had spun him a line, had well and truly hooked him, used him. He should be angry with her but he was damned if he could be. It didn’t matter what she’d told him or why, he’d fallen for her and wanted her back.

The realisation stunned him. He’d never allowed anyone to get away with lying to him, had never known deep in his heart that the lies didn’t matter because they always had, yet with Ruby…

Nigel took the paper back and wrote out an address.

“Would you mind if I used your bathroom?” Harry asked.

Nigel looked up from writing. “Of course not! Upstairs, second door on the right.”

The man might seem calm and collected, might not be harbouring Ruby, but Harry needed to check upstairs for peace of mind. He followed Nigel’s directions, scoping out every room, looking under beds and inside wardrobes.

Nothing.

He went into the bathroom and closed the door, stood there for two minutes, then flushed the toilet. He washed his hands, conscious he was using valuable time, but didn’t want Nigel to know what he’d suspected. He returned downstairs to find a smiling Nigel waiting where he’d left him.

“Yes,” Nigel said. “I’d try her mother’s. I imagine she’ll be there by now. I dropped her at the bagel place well over two hours ago.”

Two hours? Harry had been out of it in the dungeon for that long? He glanced at his watch just to make sure. Jesus Christ, it was after midnight.

Unable to bring himself to thank Nigel, he nodded curtly and left the house, deciding to check out the bagel shop first instead. Although Nigel had seemed unperturbed by his visit, Harry had a niggling doubt in his mind regarding the man. Surely Ruby couldn’t have made up such awful abuse. Her telling of it had been genuine, he was sure of it. Then he winced, knowing full well how people could cuckold you, make you believe they were innocent when they weren’t. He prided himself in being able to spot a liar from a mile away—his profession had taught him that—yet there was always a first time in reading someone wrong…

He sped into the city, glad the roads were clear and had been gritted, taking advantage of the free parking after seven p.m. in an out-of-the-way lot. He strode towards a couple canoodling in a pub doorway and called out, “The new bagel place. Where is it?”

The couple broke apart, and the man looked at Harry as though he’d lost his mind.

“Bagel place? Don’t know what you’re on about, mate.”

Harry pulled in a lungful of cold air, blowing it out forcefully in order to calm his raging nerves. “I was told there’s a new bagel place, open late.”

The man shook his head. “Nope, think someone’s pulling your leg.”

Harry closed his eyes momentarily then raised a hand in thanks as he stumbled away from them, heading back to his car. The knowledge that Nigel had successfully lied to him sparked such violent anger inside him he had to lean on his bonnet to stop himself throwing up.

“Bastard!” he shouted, lifting his hand then slapping it down. “You fucking, utter bastard!”

He wrenched his car door open and jumped inside, gunning the engine and backing out of his space. He raced back to Nigel’s, stopping down the road a little. God, his heart hurt from beating so fast. Pains streaked across his chest, and he pleaded with whichever God would listen that he wouldn’t have a panic or heart attack. His whole body filled with energy—foreign energy he’d never experienced before, as though an overload of adrenaline was flooding his system, threatening to take him out.

The thought of Ruby somewhere in there spurred Harry into getting out of the car and walking to stand outside the house, seeing all the lights were off. Where could she be, though? He’d checked everywhere except the garage. Maybe the man had a shed…

He crept onto Nigel’s driveway, going to the garage and pressing his ear to one of the door edges. It was silent inside, but that didn’t mean a thing. Ruby could be asleep, trussed up, drugged up… His stomach rolled over, and he called her name into the few millimetres of space between the door and metal jamb. Waiting only seconds for a response and receiving none, he took the narrow path down the side of the house and headed for a six-foot wooden gate at the bottom. It opened when he turned the circular iron handle, and he stepped into the rear garden, seeing nothing but trees around the edges and lawn in the centre.

Frustrated and beginning to panic, he moved to the house, sidling along the brick until he came to a window. He peered inside, seeing the darkened kitchen. He went along further, the glow of an interior light splashing onto cream-and-pink patio slabs. Mindful he might be spotted, he pressed his front to the wall beside the window and leaned across enough that only one half of his face could be seen if someone nosed outside.

The dining room didn’t look the same as it had when he’d been in there. The table and chairs had been pushed to the side, rug and all, revealing a square hole, a slatted wooden door open and flush to the floor. He frowned, trying to comprehend what he was seeing, realisation coming on so swiftly he had to hold back a howl of rage. The bastard had her in some kind of cellar?

He had the urge to smash the damn window and break in but knew the law too well. He’d be the one at fault if he went inside and found Ruby was there of her own free will. Anxious, and without a phone to call the police, he dithered in indecision long enough to see Ruby’s head then body appear out of the hole. She stood beside the dining table, gaze fixed on the square in the floor, her face unreadable. She looked neither happy nor sad, just so damn neutral Harry wasn’t sure of the best course of action to take. Should he knock on the window, letting her know he was here? If she saw him, he’d be able to tell from her initial reaction whether she was relieved to see him.