TiedandTwisted (9 page)

Katt pulled her into the tiny bathroom and dropped the rope.
Her head bounced off the base of the toilet. She curled around her stomach
protectively, wary of a kick, but he backed away after tying her to the pipes
beneath the sink. “You stay there. I’ll be back.”

He closed the door behind him, leaving her alone in the
bathroom. Blinking through her dizziness, she clawed at the rope until she got
enough slack to wrestle it over her head. The full sight of the silk wool noose
twisted her stomach. Not a rope. A noose. He’d made a noose for her.

Shaking, she lurched to her knees and slid the cover off the
toilet tank. He’d find his weapon there soon enough if he really wanted it, but
he’d check the trash first and maybe she’d have a chance to scramble past him.

A crash sounded on the other side of the door. Jovanna
jumped and whirled to flatten her back against the wall. Another crash
followed. Then silence.

Swallowing down her panic, she shook the needles she’d
snagged out of their cardboard sleeve. Fourteen inches of aluminum. Not a
knife, but they’d do some damage.

* * * * *

With a sense of peace even he recognized as slightly
off-balance, Jim systematically smashed every one of the store’s security
cameras before he removed his mask. He wanted her to know him when he crouched
above her. Wanted to feel the gouge of her fingernails on his face if she
decided to fight back.

But he wanted to savor the experience too. So he sat on the
sofa that faced away from the window and smiled at the memory of watching her
come. And he made her wait too. The longer she waited, confused and afraid, the
wetter she’d be when he took his turn.

* * * * *

Friday, 8:17 p.m.

“She said she’d meet us at eight,” Melanie said after the
server left their table for the fifth time.

David checked his phone for the tenth time but he knew there
was still nothing from Jovanna, no text or voicemail. Frustration burned in his
stomach. “You shouldn’t have set this up, Mel. She and I aren’t in a
relationship the way you understand relationships. She probably decided she
couldn’t deal with the family thing.”

“She was
fine
. She’d have said no if she didn’t want
to come,” his sister replied sullenly. “I bet she got hung up at the store. I
think the other employee had some kind of problem with her keys.”

Foreboding chilled the back of his neck. “What kind of
problem?”

Melanie shrugged. “I guess the other woman lost her keys.
She had to borrow Jovanna’s.”

“Come on.” David tossed a twenty on the table for their
drinks and the server’s time and stood, already dialing Jovanna’s number.

“We’re leaving?” Melanie rose with a frown. “What if she’s
just running late?”

Jovanna didn’t answer.

“She’s not just running late.” Leaving Melanie to follow, he
strode from the restaurant.

* * * * *

Friday, 8:42 p.m.

Sweat soaked the back of Jovanna’s shirt and her forearm
cramped, she’d been clutching her needles so long. Katt hadn’t made a sound in
forever. He was still out there. She knew he was there without needing any
proof. Whatever he wanted from her, he wasn’t going to walk away without taking
it. She flexed her fingers around the needles. Or without
trying
.

If he didn’t make a move soon, she was going to scream.

“He has a gun,” she mumbled, four words she’d repeated so
many times she’d lost count. Whenever she began to talk herself into bursting
from the unlocked bathroom to make a run for the door, she repeated the
reminder.

Katt had a gun. She had knitting needles. Her best shot of
disabling him would be a close-range strike. If only he’d fucking
do
something.

The doorknob turned. Heart hammering in her throat, Jovanna
rose to a low crouch. Katt pushed the door open and angled toward the sink,
where she was no longer tied. She catalogued details in some odd slow-motion
scope. He’d removed his mask. He wore boots. He held a glass phallus in his
right hand. He did not hold a gun.

“Bitch,” he growled, and whirled on the door.

Jovanna sprang from her crouch, refusing to think about the
trajectory of her under-handed punch. Pitching a softball. She was—

Kat howled and dropped the phallus. He sank to his knees,
driving her needles deeper. She released the makeshift weapon before her
muscles fully registered the meaning of the fleshy impact. Before blood stained
her fingers.

Leaving Katt screaming on the floor, she bolted.
Handbag—because she needed her keys. Panic switch—because she needed David.

Katt wouldn’t stop screaming. Gasping for breath, she
exploded from the shop and slammed into a body.

“Christ.” David’s voice.

Strong arms banded around her, pinning her elbows to her
sides. He whipped around, propelling both of them away from the door.

“Nine-one-one,” she choked past a sudden flood of tears.
“Stabbed him. Oh God. I stabbed him. I’m going to go to prison. Or—”

“Shh, sweetheart.” David shoved her face against his chest,
muffling her panicked babbling. “Police are on the way. For him, not you.”

“He’s inside,” she sobbed.

“And you’re not anymore.”

A car door opened. David lifted her into the backseat of his
SUV just as the strobe of emergency lights pulsed into view.

“Melanie, lock the doors. You,” he said, wiping tears from
her cheeks and forcing her eyes to his, “stay here. You didn’t do anything
wrong.”

“I stabbed him,” she whispered.

“Bastard probably deserved it,” Melanie said. “Probably
deserved even more.”

“Stay here.” David kissed her hard, directly on the lips,
before closing the door and turning to greet the police.

“They’re going to want to talk to me eventually,” Jovanna
mumbled, sagging in the seat.

“Not for a little while. Here.” Melanie shoved a half-full
bottle of water into her hand. “Pretend it’s vodka or something.”

“Thanks. I’m sorry about dinner.”

“You are
not
allowed to apologize.” The young woman
rummaged through her bag and produced a handful of items. Minty chewing gum, a
hair brush, a bottle of Tylenol. She pushed them on Jovanna, encouraging her to
find some kind of comfort in ritual.

The sight of the painkillers brought attention to her aching
throat. She carefully swallowed two with all the water. Outside, police moved
back and forth between her shop and their patrol cars. An ambulance arrived a
short time later. EMTs carried a stretcher into the store and back out again.

David said something to an officer before crossing the lot
and climbing into the driver’s seat. He reached back between the seats to touch
her thigh. “They’ll take your statement tomorrow. Do you want to go to the
emergency room?”

Jovanna shook her head. “I want a shower.”

He glanced at his sister, who made a studious effort of
occupying herself on her phone, before looking back to Jovanna. “Do you want me
to take you home?”

“I…not really.”

Melanie shifted in her seat, giving up the pretense of
distraction. “Would
you
want to be alone? She wants to come home with
us.”

David raised an eyebrow, silent question.

Jovanna nodded. “Do you mind?”

“No.” He and Melanie spoke in unison.

Melanie added, “You can sleep with me.”

“Nice try.” David snorted.

Dropping her head against the headrest, Jovanna closed her
eyes and listened to the pair murmur in the front seat. Melanie turned on the
radio to a station playing something girly and gum-snappy.

She knew she’d have to talk to the police and deal with the
damage to her shop in the morning. Maybe Monday. But she wanted to talk about
her relationship with David instead, preferably while wrapped in one of his
shirts and ensconced in his bed. She could use some pleasant things.

David parked in the driveway of a Cape Cod in a quiet
residential neighborhood. The house surprised her. She’d expected him to live
somewhere more urban. Maybe a condo. Somewhere in the neighborhood, a family
had a late grill going. The scent of charcoal and the distant sound of laughter
helped her bridge the wide gap between danger and safety.

She didn’t get a good look at the interior of the house.
Cherry wood and earthy colors were her only real impressions before David
ushered her up the stairs with a word of good night to Melanie.

“I should have left a sign on the door,” she said on the
upstairs landing. “Saturdays are busy. I’m going to have pissed-off customers.”

“Police tape will be enough of a sign.”

For the first time since he made her meet his eyes in the
car, she turned and faced him directly. Frown lines pinched the corners of his
mouth and anger radiated in practically tangible waves.

Her stomach tightened. “I’m a mess. I’m sorry. I had no idea
you’d be dragged into something like this. I doubt damsel-rescue was on your
to-do list this month.”

“If you want to apologize for something, apologize for doing
everything in your power to keep me at a distance. It’s unfair to refuse people
who care about you the privilege of actually caring.”

She flinched. “I didn’t want you to care.”

“Some things are out of your control.” His voice dropped,
low for her ears only. “Some things have nothing to do with who’s on top or who
submits.”

Jovanna swallowed. “What if I want you to care now?”

“I guess that depends. Will you still want me to care
tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I will.”

“Then you’re in luck.” He caught her hand and pulled her off
the landing into a dark room rich with his scent. “Come on. I’ll wash your back
and you’ll start telling me what’s twisted you up so much that you work this
hard to be by yourself.”

“I’m sure it’s boring,” she protested.

“You naked could make binary code exciting.”

She chuckled, sense of humor surfacing despite the events of
the evening. “Will you return the favor and tell me stories while you’re not
wearing any pants?”

“Absolutely. Just name the date.”

“I’ll have to check my calendar,” she said, deciding to make
room for him in her life for as long as he was interested in the prospect.

Epilogue

Three months later

Jovanna discreetly turned away from the collaring ceremony
taking place on a dais erected in the middle of Bondage’s small dance floor.
Something about the permanency of the ritual bothered her. Being bothered…that
bothered her even more.

“Commitment issues.” David spoke at her ear, his palm a warm
weight above her elbow.

She slanted him a sidelong glance as they moved a respectful
distance away from the collaring Dominant and his submissive, who’d practically
glowed at the sight of the diamond choker her Dom presented. “Really? That’s
your diagnosis, doctor?”

He drew her into an alcove and slid his arms around her
waist. “You’ve never denied it before. Why so prickly tonight?”

The now-familiar shape of his lips beckoned hers despite her
discomfort. Jovanna frowned and stared at his chin. He was right. She hadn’t
denied her fiendish attachment to independence prior to now. Except silently,
to herself, more and more often since the night of the first break-in at her
shop.

“I don’t know,” she answered, still not willing to admit out
loud that she might be ready for another attempt at happily-ever-after.

“Are you going to make me beat the liar out of you?” His
kiss skimmed her ear, softening the question. “We’d both enjoy it and you still
owe me something public. As much as I like disappointing the men who haven’t
figured out you’re no longer free to try, I’d rather concentrate on you than
them.”

Behind them, the volume of club goers increased, signaling
the end of the collaring ceremony. The club’s signature heavy-bass,
throbbing-beat music resumed and her pulse kicked up with it. Jovanna relaxed
against David’s chest, crushing her breasts against her silk tank top and his
cotton shirt. “I think we would both enjoy that,” she answered, breathing in
the herbal scent of his aftershave.

His fingertips skimmed her spine, which might as well have
been naked for the flimsy barrier her top provided. Cupping the back of her
head, he claimed a hard, hot kiss. “I don’t need a ceremony, sweetheart. Don’t
worry about that.”

She gave a silent nod and eased away. David tangled their
fingers together and drew her from the alcove. Together they skirted the dance
floor, once more packed with leather and skin on display, and headed for the
play room. Anticipation overcame anxiety as they crossed the threshold. Even
though she had no interest in the role of a 24/7 sub, Jovanna felt herself more
and more frequently craving the flat of David’s hand against her skin and the
freedom she found in surrendering to his dominance. Sometimes, she wondered
whether she was clinging too hard to her idea of social freedom. But not
tonight. She wanted to focus on the building hum of arousal, not struggle with
her hang-ups.

“There.” David interrupted her seesawing thoughts and
directed her toward a long, narrow bench crouched beneath a pair of cuffs
hanging from the ceiling. “That’s where I want you. Naked and on your knees.”

He slid his hands into his pockets and stood still, watching
her expectantly. Lips pursed, Jovanna held his gaze a moment before turning and
walking to the bench. Movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention
and Mikal’s black-clad shape separated from the shadows along the walls. She
refused him with a slight shake of her head. Strange to realize she didn’t need
his mostly silent guardianship anymore. Strange to realize her rules were
changing. Now she had David to protect her limits and guarantee her well-being
when she was rendered physically vulnerable by restraints and emotionally
vulnerable by ecstasy.