Saving Sunni (12 page)

I hesitated. “Nothing occurred that was not negotiated,” I told him, proud of the way it came out.

He wasn’t as pleased with my response as I was. He looked at me suspiciously. “Please explain what you mean by negotiated.”

I sighed. I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. “I enjoy certain physical sensations. Rutger and I have talked, and he has agreed to help me experience those sensations. So there was nothing that occurred that was unwanted.”

“Has he ever struck you?”

This guy was clueless. I wanted to ask him if he had really never heard of rough sex, but that might open up too many other avenues of thought.

“Well, hitting is one of the things I enjoy,” I explained patiently. “But it’s kind of like a massage. There are techniques that give me the feelings I want, and he never goes further than I’ve requested. He also never hits me in anger. Believe me, I know the difference.”

That got his attention. “How do you know the difference?”

Here we go again. “My ex-husband, the one who I think filmed the scene, used to hit me. I know about domestic abuse, and trust me, this isn’t it.”

Fishburn craned to read the notes that Hunter made. He seemed to be debating with himself. Finally he nodded and sat back.

“Has Mr. Wulfgar ever left any unwanted marks or bruises on your person?”

I shook my head emphatically. “Not unwanted, no.”

“At any time have you been held against your will?”

I wanted to say, “Other than now?” but decided against it. “No, absolutely not,” I said firmly.

“Do you live with Mr. Wulfgar?”

“Yes,” I said, relieved that we seemed to be switching gears. Maybe that meant they were wrapping up the interview. They were just getting some last-minute information cleared up, and then we’d all be free to leave.

“Who was the other woman at the apartment tonight?”

“That’s my si—” I managed to stop myself from finishing “sister slave” and changed to, “That’s Jill Marten. She lives there too.” They could, and probably had, figured that much out already.

“She lives there with both of you?”

This was shaky ground again. I really had no idea of what was legal or not legal about polyamory. Surely three people could live together if they wanted to. But you never knew.

“Yes,” I said, trying not to look worried.

“What kind of relationship does she have with you and Mr. Wulfgar?”

The only thing to do was play stupid. “What do you mean?” I asked, tilting my head a little and widening my eyes. “She just lives with us. It’s a two-bedroom apartment.” That didn’t really have anything to do with it, but I wanted to avoid the relationship issue.

Fishburn gave me a look that suggested he didn’t believe me but couldn’t figure out why I would lie. He said slowly, “Okay. Can you tell us about the club where this ‘role-playing game’ was taking place?”

I sighed and stared at the table. I had no idea what Sir would tell them, and I really didn’t want to create any problems for Mary. Finally I came to a decision and looked Fishburn straight in the face.

“I really don’t want to talk about that,” I said. “It’s not my place, and I don’t want to take the chance of saying anything that might give you any wrong ideas. I assume that whoever gave you the video told you where it was taken.” I felt braver now, so I narrowed my eyes and went for the big question. “Who did give you that video, by the way? Was it my ex-husband, Randy Chambers? Because if you’ll check his record, you’ll see he’s not the most reliable source.”

Fishburn smiled tightly. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that right now. But I would like to know what ‘wrong ideas’ I might get.”

I shrugged, smiling back. “Oh, I don’t know. It sounded to me like everybody had already jumped to conclusions. I just don’t want to say anything that might be misunderstood.”

Hunter looked up from his notes. It might have been my imagination, but they both looked suspicious. But then, they
were
cops. It was probably a job hazard.

Fishburn sighed and stood up. Hunter snapped his notebook closed and rose too. They both held out their hands, and I shook them.

“Thank you for coming in, Ms. Chambers,” Hunter said, taking over the conversation.

“So what happens now? With S-Rutger?” I said, surprised at how much braver I felt now than when I came in.

“You will all be free to go home as soon as the questioning is over.” Hunter escorted me to a waiting area, and I took a seat to wait for the others. In about fifteen minutes sage came out and sat down, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She looked as if she was waiting to be led out to the firing squad.

When Sir finally came out of his interview room, he looked stressed but not particularly upset. He gave both of us a quick hug and a kiss on the forehead and we followed the officer to the door.

In the car I sank as far as I could into the seat. I would have taken the back seat, but sage had already claimed it. I looked at Sir out of the corner of my eye. He hadn’t appeared to be angry, but he certainly wouldn’t have shown it in the police department if he was.

I squirmed in silence for as long as I could stand it. “What happened, Sir?”

He stared at the road. “They wanted to know about the scene, of course. It was probably pretty much the same questions they asked you. Other than whether I am abusing you.” His eyes swiveled toward me then. “What did you tell them when they asked that?”

“I told them it was a role-playing game and I was just acting scared.”

“And did they ask if I routinely beat or terrorize you?”

“Yes,” I said. “They also asked if I felt intimidated, or like I wasn’t allowed to leave, or something like that. I told them no, and that the only time you hit me was for sensations that I wanted, and it was negotiated.”

He sighed. “Was that all?”

“They asked about The Keyhole. I told them I’d rather not say anything about it. I didn’t know what might get Mary into trouble.”

“There shouldn’t be anything that would cause her problems, but it’s probably better not to talk about it. I’m sure they already know about the club by now, if they didn’t before. What about you, sage? Did they ask you the same questions?”

She mumbled something from the back seat that sounded like, “Yes.”

Sir’s phone rang, and he flipped it open. “Yes? Oh, hello, Matthew…Yes, we saw it…We’re all very upset, of course…No, I didn’t notice who else might have been in the shot. Did you? Thank you. I’ll call you later and give you more details.”

He said goodbye, closed the phone, glanced over at me and pulled the car into a parking lot. I looked at him in surprise and some trepidation. Was he was going to lecture me?

Instead, he pulled me over until we leaned over the center console into each other. He put one arm around me, and I rested my head on his shoulder, enjoying his size and warmth. His other arm stretched to the back seat to include sage in the hug as much as possible. I sighed and snuggled deeply into him, and he stroked my hair softly.

“You know this is not your fault, right, sunni?” he said, nuzzling the top of my head. I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t honestly say I didn’t think it was my fault, and I was sure sage thought it was.

“It would probably be better if you were legally divorced, but that doesn’t mean anything would be different,” he went on. “You can’t help it if some demented crackpot decides he wants you back. And I can’t blame him. I would want you back too.”

My eyes started tearing up, and I reached up to wipe them so I wouldn’t get mascara all over Sir’s shirt.

He heard me sniffling and tilted my head back with his hand so we looked into each other’s eyes.

“You do understand that, correct?” he said again, and to my horror I began to cry. I couldn’t help it. All of the tension of the evening hit me at once, and I hid my face in his chest as much as I could while I sobbed loudly and convulsively, groping with one hand for the tissues that sage always kept in the car.

He found them and handed me one, simply letting me cry, holding me as well as he could across the parking brake.

Chapter 11

When we pulled into our apartment complex, Sir gasped. I looked around but nothing registered for a minute, since I didn’t really know what I was looking for. Suddenly I realized what had caught his attention and my stomach lurched. sage saw it too.

“That’s not—” She broke off as if it was too horrible to say.

Sir grimly parked the car and we all got out slowly, staring at the news truck that was parked outside our apartment building. I was sure we all had an identical wish that they weren’t here to see us. Maybe something else had happened. Maybe someone else in the building had gotten a job with the television station and had brought home a company vehicle…

But as soon as they saw us heading toward the door, several people jumped out of the truck to cut us off.

“Mr. Wulfgar.” A tall man with broad shoulders, dark, wavy hair, and an expensive suit was suddenly in front of us, waving a huge microphone in Sir’s face. From his bearing, the reporter was probably used to intimidating other people with his size and aggressive manner. Sir was taller, though, especially when he pulled himself up to his full height, as he did now. He towered over the reporter, who peered anxiously up at him as if he expected Sir to attack. Sir simply returned his stare, although I could tell he was deciding whether it would be better to force our way past them or stop and try to repair the damage that had been done with the video.

“Yes?” Sir said, sounding pleasant. The reporter’s face relaxed a little, and he came even closer. Sir glanced at the microphone as if he wanted to swat it away like a mosquito, but he waited patiently for the other man to begin his interview.

“We know that was you in the video on the news tonight, threatening”—he gave me a knowing look—“a lady with a knife while she was wrapped up in some kind of plastic. What can you tell us about that incident?”

Sir’s jaw muscles clenched, but he kept his voice even and polite as he casually stepped in front of me so that I wouldn’t be on camera. “What would you like to know?” he said. “She is fine and standing right here. Obviously she was not harmed. No laws were broken and no one was injured. There is nothing to say about the matter.”

“But the knife—” the reporter insisted.

“It was part of an act, no different than you might see on any local stage,” Sir told him, looking pointedly at the door to the apartment building. “Everything that was done was completely consensual and safe. Our privacy has been violated by the video being shown on television. I advise you to leave us alone and let us go into our home.”

The reporter, whose name I couldn’t remember, was trying to maneuver around Sir to get to me, signaling the cameraman to do the same. Sir blocked him very effectively, but I didn’t think we were going to get past them this way.

I touched Sir’s arm. “I will talk to them if that will help.”

He looked over his shoulder at me, and then shrugged. “If she is willing to talk to you, then I will allow it for a minute. But I will not permit her to be harassed.”

“Ms. Chambers,” the reporter said, sliding quickly around Sir and motioning to the cameraman to get a good shot of me. “You appear to have been crying. Are you sure you’re okay?”

My mouth dropped open at his rudeness and new tears gathered in my eyes. I glared at him. “I’m upset that we’ve been questioned by the police for something that happened at a private party.”

He continued to look closely into my face. “Can you tell us in your own words what happened that night?”

I sighed. “It was a role-playing scenario, as he told you. We were just playing.”

“It certainly looked like he was hurting you, or threatening to hurt you.”

The microphone stuck in my face was getting very annoying, and I wondered if they used it as a means of unnerving people to try to break their concentration. I could have definitely started saying things I knew I would regret later if he kept waving that thing under my nose.

“No, he was not hurting me,” I said firmly. “It’s just a form of play that we engage in. We do things like that all the time.”

“So you admit that Mr. Wulfgar beats you on a regular basis?” At this, Sir grabbed my arm and sage’s and began pulling us to the door. I looked back at the reporter, who was following as closely as he dared. I frantically thought of what I could say to him that would clear this up.

“No,” I managed as Sir got the door opened and pushed sage inside. “It’s nobody’s business—” And then I was inside too, and Sir shut the door. His face was bright red with anger. There was no point in saying anything through the door, so I shrugged and followed the other two to the stairwell.

Nobody said anything when we were finally in our apartment. Sir collapsed on the recliner, and sage and I automatically went to the kitchen to make the dinner we hadn’t had time for before. Neither of us felt like undressing; I was shivering a little, although it was probably from nerves more than from cold. It was a night for comfort food and hot drinks, so I started coffee while sage put on water to make mashed potatoes and got hamburgers out of the freezer to grill. I heard Sir’s phone ring several times while we fixed dinner and guessed that people from the club were calling about the news story. I felt a little better to think that our friends were expressing support.