Cook (The Ridge MC Book 4)

Chapter 9

Cook

I cracked my knuckles as Wilde and I walked outside. Sweat already slicked my body. At least on my bike, the cool breeze had erased the scorching Arizona heat. Just seeing Maddie in clothes more fitting of her age, showing off her skin and tight to her body, had sent my blood rushing southward.

Since leaving her to visit the only store in Park Ridge, I’d been rolling around her actions in my head. With what she’d been through, none of it made a bit of sense. However, when she’d kneeled before me, something snapped between us like a rubber band. Awareness had washed over me, and no matter how much I wanted to deny it, her needs were loud and—God fucking help me—clear.

I walked further away from the house, passing the three motorcycles lined up near the dirt road. Mine, Wilde’s, then Bou’s. Odd that she could still ride, but that woman was a hellcat. Tougher than nails. I would bet on her riding herself to the hospital when she went into labor.

“We walking all the way to town?” asked Wilde.

I whipped around and painted a smirk on my face. “What? Not up for a little exercise?”

He checked over his shoulder, as if he needed to get back to his ol’ lady. His cut flipped out with a gust of wind, showing the gun tucked into his waistband. Not necessary here, unless he needed to protect her from a nest of rattlesnakes or the ghost of my father.

“Far ’nuff.” I kicked a rock, and it skittered over the ground.

Wilde lifted his chin in a half nod. “What’s doin’ asshole?”

“Not much, motherfucker,” I quipped back.

Conversation was getting easier with Wilde since I’d gone after him in Mexico, and while it felt good to shoot the shit, I had other crap on the brain. We’d bonded on that ride back with Cyd Sarantos hogtied in the back of my Bronco, but I still wasn’t as close to him as I was to Celt.

Celt had always been my brother, but Wilde came crashing into town almost a year ago. A stranger. Somehow, he’d won over a woman who’d fought off every bastard in the Ridge. I’d gone after him to hunt down his father in Mexico, and I’d found him in a pretty... delicate situation.

This, however, wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have with Celt. Hell, I couldn’t believe I was going to have it with anyone.

“What’s got you so twitchy?” Wilde scooted back to his new bike and leaned onto the seat.

I dug my fingers into the muscles in the back of my neck, not wanting to have this conversation. Not believing the words that were rolling around in the back of my throat. I didn’t have a fucking clue how to ask this shit.

Inhaling a deep breath, I started, “Maddie is . . . um . . .”

“Different?” Wilde offered.

I crossed my arms over my chest as a small “Hrm” rumbled through me. “I guess that’s a way to put it.”

“The fuck did you expect? Some happy-go-lucky chick?” The man raised his brows at me.

“Nah, man.” I dropped my head back, staring up at the blue sky with wisps of white clouds. “I just—”

“Just what? Of all the kids we pulled out of Barton Mill, she’d been living that shit the longest.”

“Yeah.” I took a deep breath. What had I expected? Certainly not who Maddie was turning out to be. “I get the trauma, but there’s something else.”

Wilde said nothing, but he cocked one brow.

“Listen, I doubt Bou’s anything of the sort, but Maddie’s asking me to, well, tell her what to do.” I flicked my gaze over to the man, waiting for a reaction.

“So tell her.” He shrugged.

“Nah, man. This is another level.” I started to pace, shoving both hands into my hair. Massaging my scalp, I tried to make my brain fire on all cylinders. “You know that song by Rhianna?”

He scowled at me. “You’re not pulling more Peter Pan outta your ass are you?”

“No, this is serious. You know...” I waved my hand in the air, trying to remember. “That one where she says whips and chains excite her?”

“What the fuck?” Wilde’s ice blue eyes had all sorts of accusations written in them.

I dragged my hand through my hair, groaning.

“Ya know, Cook,” said the Prez and waited for me to give him my attention. “This is why Doc and I brought Doctor Richardson here. She’s an expert, or something, when it comes to victims like Maddie.”

“Maddie’s not a victim.” The words were out before my brain caught up. She was a victim of the Mafia bitch. “Shit. That’s not what I meant.”

“No?”

“No.” My jaw clamped shut. I didn’t know how to explain. There was something strong in Maddie, but it needed a firm hand to make it shine. It needed someone who could take control. And would. “But she’s not a kid like the others.”

Something shifted in the way he looked at me. “Ya know, there’s no standard reaction to trauma.” Wilde reached into his saddlebag, pulled out a cloth, and started polishing the dust off his tank. His hand lingered over the airbrushed rose Bou had painted for him.

The Prez continued, “When that fucker Luke raped my Bou—”

I held up both hands, not wanting to revisit that shit.

But Wilde ignored my attempt to shut him up. “I was scared as shit to touch her, but she came to me. She wanted to fuck away the feeling of the slime on her skin.”

“Dude, she’s like a sister to me,” I complained, scrunching my face with disgust. It was one thing to know about the rape, but another to think about her as any kind of sexual being.

He just chuckled. “Point is, there’s no tellin’ what someone needs to recover.”

I twisted my lips to one side, then bit the bullet. “Have you ever had to... ah, give her orders? In—” I waved my hand in the air. “You know.”

Fuck, I really didn’t want to know about Bou and him.

He cocked his head to one side. “Like sexually?”

“Well, that, and in general.”

Wilde laughed for what I could swear was a solid minute. He got me now, but the laughing needed to fucking stop.

I grumbled. “It’s not funny, asshole.”

He let out an audible end-of-laugh sigh then said, “Nnnnnno. Not Bou. I’m pretty fucking demanding, but not in any kind of Dom-sub way.”

Shit. If anyone, I would’ve thought him. But he was right: it didn’t fit Bou.

“But Maddie. You think she’s into that?” asked Wilde, considering my points at last.

I clenched my jaw, not really wanting to have the conversation. But I didn’t know how to be what Maddie needed.

“Guess it makes sense,” said Wilde nonchalantly. “Especially after all she lived through.”

“It’s not because of what happened,” I blurted. That was a cop out. I shook my head, perhaps convincing myself as well as Wilde. “I’ve seen her go feral—on the doctors and when, well, one other time. This is different. She relaxes when she... or when I tell her what to do. It’s like it frees her from the pain.”

Wilde shot me a look like I was insane. Fuck, I had to be. In the span of several short days, Maddie had managed to upend my simple life.

“Talk to the Warden,” said Wilde. “He and Belle met at one of those lifestyle clubs.” Wilde tucked the cloth back into his saddlebag and walked toward the house as though Bou was calling.

I watched him go, thinking about how he would do anything for Bou, and damn it, I wanted that too. Better yet, I wanted Maddie to have what Bou had with Wilde.

Pulling my cell phone from my pocket, I stared down at the illuminated screen. The sun was coming down at an awkward angle, and I glanced around like I was being watched. Now that Wilde knew, Bou would know. Maybe Celt would find out too. But I couldn’t give two shits about the rumor mill, only the broken woman in my house.

What was she doing to me? Maybe she needed me to be her Dom, but she dominated my every thought.

Not having Ward’s number, I texted Doc. The Warden and his ol’ lady should’ve been at the recovery house for the trafficked kids. He was supposed to be in town, setting up security protocols anywhere the MC might frequent. Not a moment later, Doc texted back that Warden was still there.

“Ask him to ride out here,” I texted Doc, then added, “to my house outside Park Ridge.”

I slid my cell phone into my back pocket. My heartbeat pounded, and I cleared my throat before heading inside. I didn’t want to know the answer, but I braced myself for whatever came next.

Before I made it back to the house, my cell phone buzzed in my pocket.

Bou and Maddie were in the living room when I entered, and Bou was packing up bags with the clothes Maddie had turned down. Wilde took them from her outstretched hands.

Maddie wore some of Bou’s old clothes, and based on what I saw in the bedroom, there were more stashed away. I made a mental note to find out if she liked them after Wilde and Bou left. If not, I would take her back to Phoenix and through every store until Maddie found what she wanted. With very few bills to my name and the steady income from our border patrol operation, I had enough money to be comfortable, and I’d happily spend it on her.

“Thanks for the help,” said Maddie.

“Of course.” Bou pulled Maddie into a hug, and I waited, my whole body tense.

True, I’d held Maddie while she slept, but otherwise, I hadn’t tried to hug her, only picked her up and moved her as needed. This hug was quick and friendly. Maddie kinda held Bou back, stiff around Bou’s growing stomach.

Turning away, I let a secret smile spread across my lips. I felt the baby when Bou hugged me and her hard stomach pressed into my waist. Bou had never been a hugger, so I wondered if maternal tendencies were stirring.

“We’ll see you later,” said Bou, but Wilde was already standing in the doorway, like he wanted to escape. I didn’t blame him. The door closed behind them, but I didn’t release the breath I had been holding.

Maddie stepped toward the kitchen. “Should I make dinner? Are you hungry?”

She pivoted toward the kitchen, but I caught her around the waist and turned her back to face me. Her hands landed on my chest, and a current flooded my body from that simple contact.

I let my hands rest on her hips. “That’s kinda my thing.”

Two little lines formed between her brows. Worry? “You don’t want me to cook?”

“I’m saying that I’m the cook around here. Doesn’t the name say it all?” I wanted to do this for her.

A smile stretched her lips. “That’s not a reason for you to do all the work.”

She patted me on the chest and tried to pull away, but I held her firmly until she looked back up at me.

“I said, it’s my thing.”

“Oh.” Her mouth lingered in the little O shape.

I moved toward the kitchen and opened the fridge. “Anyway, we need extra tonight. I have people stopping by.”

Looking at her sideways, I waited to see if she would freak out. Maddie took a deep breath, leaning back on her heels, and she tucked her hair behind her ear. Slowly, I reached into the fridge for the meat, waiting. For her to drop to her knees. For her to yell at me or tell me no or burst into tears.

Maddie, however, didn’t move. She did nothing, like she was a stone statue in a museum.

After a long pause, she said, “If we’re having guests, then you need help in the kitchen,” said Maddie. Her chin dipped down, and she peeked out through her dark eyelashes. “If you’re okay with that?”

The way she worried her protruding bottom lip and her big doe eyes made my cock heavy. I turned sideways to adjust, hoping she wouldn’t see. The last thing I wanted was to make her think I wanted to use her body.

“Fine,” I said, closing the refrigerator.

She didn’t move, only waited for me to answer her. To give her permission to help.

Every part of her made me hard until it became almost painful. Geez, I was a sick fuck. “You can peel and boil the potatoes, but the grill is mine. Everyone in the club loves my meat.”

I smirked as I grabbed an apron out of the cabinet, and she snickered. I checked the saying to make sure it wasn’t too offensive for her, then tied it behind my back. Thankfully, the apron hid my growing erection, a reaction I apparently had no control over. I needed a long, cold shower. Maddie dragged her gaze up my body as if she sensed something was up. I grabbed the meat for the grill and the spatula in my free hand, and her eyes fell onto the words painted on my apron.

She giggled, covering her mouth, then said the words. “Lick me until ice cream?”

My cock kicked in my jeans. Pinching my mouth closed, I marched past her. The last words I should say danced on my tongue. Hell, the words that tried to pry themselves from my mouth, but I somehow stifled the Fuck yeah! and the My tongue’s all yours, baby.

With how tight my jeans were, I might need to whip out my cock and handfuck myself outside so I could behave in here with her. She shuddered as I passed her, and it drew my attention.

By the time I looked over at her, she’d tucked her chin to her chest. I was fucking grateful for the shit in my hands, because God only knew what my craving for her would cause me to do before my addled brain could process the thought.

Not wanting her to look so forlorn, I used the spatula under her chin to draw her gaze up to meet mine. Her copper-toned hair fell back, and again, all that stopped me from dragging my hands through it was the dinner occupying my grasp.

“You’re too gorgeous for your own damn good.” If I lingered any longer, I didn’t think I could control my desire, so I left. I wanted her, though, that much was fact.

“Thank you,” she said on a sigh, her cheeks turning pink, and my nostrils flared.

I didn’t know, though, if those were happy thanks or you’re-fucking-creepy thanks. So I took a step back. “Grilling is my thing in the club,” I said again, not that she would understand. “You’re welcome to the rest of the kitchen. Compromise?”

Something in her eyes said that she didn’t want to compromise, and that scared the fuck outta me. I read all over her face that she was either all or nothing, and I didn’t doubt it for a second. How sure of herself she was, despite her years being sold as a goddamn commodity, made me burn with desire. She would fight with me sometimes. There was a feral, furious being inside of her, and that’s exactly the part I couldn’t trust.

How I was acting now though, how my body responded to her... I couldn’t trust myself, let alone this shattered woman.

I jerked my eyes away from her. “I need to get the grill going.”

Turning on my heel, I left Maddie to the potatoes.

“Cook!” she called out.

I spun around, wondering what she wanted now, needing to put distance between us.

A bright flash burned into my eyes, and I flinched back. Maddie giggled as she lowered the camera in front of her. The last thing anyone needed was a picture of me, but I rolled my eyes, let her have it, and took my horny ass outside.

The door slammed shut behind me as I marched over to the grill and set the meat on the shelf next to the old charcoal-burning contraption. I had to adjust myself in my pants to relieve the pressure. It only helped a little, so I started narrating aloud, “Mom. Tarantulas—ewww.” I shivered with the thought of the creepy crawlies, but the hard-on wasn’t gone yet. “Tail pipes. Oh, sheep.” That made me snigger like a school-age boy, the snort rolling through my sinuses. But I still couldn’t rid myself of the lust.

“Sn-n-nnnakes,” I continued. “Gross! Little sis, Bou.”

That did it. My cock stood down. Finally.

I had finished grilling by the time Ward and Belle rode into the dusty drive, his blacked-out Harley pelting a plume of dust on the old saguaro cactus Mom used to string Christmas lights on. We sat on the porch and ate in awkward silence, and when we finished, Ward whispered something into Belle’s ear. His ol’ lady gathered the paper plates and empty bottles, and Ward swatted her ass when she stood.

Her reaction—the perk of her ass toward him, narrowed eyes, and pursed lips—couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than a cry for more.

The look faded when she turned her gaze on Maddie. “Help me inside?”

Maddie looked at me, gnawing her lower lip.

I thumbed it from between her teeth and leaned closer to her, keeping my voice low. That lip was becoming my weakness, but also stirring a dark desire inside. Something too strong and demanding to be controlled, and it scared the shit out of me.

“This lip,” I said, “isn’t made for you to chew.”

She tried to hide her reaction, but her eyes rounded as if my words shocked her into uncertainty. Maddie stayed quiet. She hadn’t uttered more than one-word answers throughout dinner. Instead, she had dragged her chair as close to mine and waited for me to tell her she could eat. Even as she took small bites and chewed them, she kept her eyes on her plate or me the entire time.

Now, her doe eyes trained on me and begged for my permission.

“Go.” I jutted my chin toward Belle and the front door, not truly knowing if her needing my command was in her nature or what had been trained into her.

Maddie stood and followed Belle.

The Warden watched me from the tip of his nose. His pupils constricted, scrutinizing every inch of me.

“I see it,” said Ward, his voice like a soft rumble of thunder.

He didn’t need to speak loudly to make his words clear. No, the tatted man with his short-sleeved, button-down shirt had a presence and confidence that could consume a room. My eyes momentarily fell to where his biceps nearly split the sleeves, then I looked away.

The more dominant person sitting at the old metal table clearly wasn’t me.

My eyes roamed the porch, settling anywhere but on the utterly calm man sitting across from me. Ward spent most of his time away from the club at his mansion—as Angel described it—overlooking the ocean. He kept our tech shit in order, but I hadn’t spent enough time with the man to consider him a brother yet.

I stared at cracks in the concrete and stucco where chickweed was starting to crawl from the crevices. Another sign this place had been all but abandoned. With pursed lips, I nodded and faced him again.

“Yeah, man,” I said, as though he’d just made small talk. I reached over and plucked a weed, tossing it off the porch. “Don’t have to tell me twice. This house needs lots of TL and fucking C.”

I swiped my beer from the table and gulped, knowing good and well he wasn’t talking about my rundown house.

Ward laced his fingers, resting them on his flat gut and his elbows on the arms of the chair. “You gotta smell the coffee, Cook.”

“Oh, I smell it alright.” I took a gulp from my bottle. “Nuttier than a squirrel turd, right?”

I chuckled, but the man didn’t laugh. Did he not have a sense of fucking humor?

“Giving her structure will help.” The Warden seemed lost in thought.

Thoughts I needed to hear. Everyone in the MC knew the situation with Maddie, because we couldn’t hide shit from our brothers. But this... this just felt like grinding salt into a wound I never knew existed.

“Her experience,” he mused. “The trauma she must carry with her. She’s clearly anxious as fuck, and I just sat here through dinner—fucking fabulous, by the way—and watched the relief wash through your girl when you gave her simple orders. Eat. Go.”

The bottle on my lips and the cool fizz washing down my throat gave an excuse not to respond.

So he continued, “You saw how Belle leaned on me, no?”

“Yeah, but—”

“How she waited for me to start eating before she started?” He cocked a brow.

“I did, but you—”

“Nah.” Ward leaned forward, stabbing me with the intensity of his gaze. “You’re not listening.”

I clamped my trap shut.

“Let me tell you a bit about my Belle. She has ADHD. Couldn’t finish college. Barely finished high school. Holding down a job, no fucking way.”

Scowling at him, I said, “She seems well-enough adjusted.”

He gave a slow nod. “Order, structure, guidance. It’s what Belle needs to function.” The Warden waved a hand toward the front door. “It’s what your Maddie needs too.”

“And you gave that to Belle? The order and structure?” I drained the last of my beer.

“I did.”

“Drill sergeant much?” I cocked a brow, but still couldn’t get a rise from the man.

Relief, however, washed through me as a tiny brotherly connection started to form. Perhaps we could be brothers after all. Easing into the conversation now, I asked, “How?”

“There are many people like our girls,” said the Warden, “and many like you and me.”

“Not sure I’m like you.” I traced the chair arms with my hands.

“If you say so.” His tone said otherwise. “Still. A person’s gender or occupation or location or past doesn’t really matter. Some just need another person to help them find themselves. It’s not for everyone, and it’s not easy.”

Leaning onto the table, I said, “I hear a but coming.”

Ward nodded. “But it’s natural, an instinctive tendency on both parts. Animals crave hierarchy. And look at the MC. We’re little more than a pack of wolves.”

I chuckled at the comparison, but he wasn’t wrong about the MC. “Being with a woman, though, that’s not MC business.”

“Have you ever seen animals mating?”

My brows furrowed.

“Male wolves bite the backs of the female’s neck to get her to hold still so he can fuck her.”

I raised my eyebrows at him. “You watch wolves fucking often?”

My attempt to lighten the convo had absolutely no affect.

“No. Studied them in college.”

“What? Why?”

“Psych major.”

“Then how’d you get into computers?”

He shrugged. “Thought it’d be fun to do a hackathon. Turned out I had a knack.”

“Freakin’ weird.”

“Nah, there’s a shit ton of psychology to the way people use tech these days, but my job’s not why you called us over, is it?”

“Not even a little. Wilde said you could help with, well, you seem to know.”

“Maddie has likely always been a sub by nature, but in her case, she had to use that to survive,” said the Warden. “Her fear of being hurt would’ve kept her compliant. But it’s not about survival anymore.”

I nodded, my throat bobbing. “She’s anxious. Scared. In pain.” The words tore me apart to say.

“And she’s looking to you to take all those things from her,” said Ward. “It’s strange. Belle picked me almost like Maddie’s picking you. You can shoulder the burden for her.”

“I’m not so sure. It makes me sick to think about all the shit that happened to her in that mill.”

“That’s what being a Dom is,” he said.

I leaned in, collecting every piece of information he gave me. The reality was slapping me upside the head in the form of a big ass motherfucker with all the self-assurance in the world.

“It isn’t about hurting your lover,” he continued. “It isn’t about giving orders or doling out pain. You gotta give her guidance and pleasure. At least for a while, you take away all her worries and give her peace of mind. Safety. It goes beyond love and lust, and in my mind, it’s everything a partnership should be.”

“Partnership? I consider partners equal.”

Ward smirked knowingly. “They are.”

“Not if one person is controlling the other.” I still couldn’t wrap my head around how to give her what she needed or if I could be the man Ward was painting a picture of.

He scoffed. “It’s about trust and self-worth, but also about satisfaction. A slice of happiness in a fucked-up world.”

Belle poked her head out of the door, and Ward met her gaze. He snapped and pointed to the ground near his feet. Belle scurried over and sank down onto her knees, her hands laying gently on the Warden’s knee, one on top of the other.

“It’s taken years,” he said, “but we have understandings, right, my little flower?”

“Yes, sir,” she replied.

Sir? Damn.

Ward leaned down and kissed her. Belle opened her mouth, and he slipped his tongue inside. She moaned, opening wider for him. I looked away until he broke the kiss and she sighed.

“I don’t know how to start,” I admitted.

“You aren’t alone. Neither is Maddie.” The Warden leaned up from Belle, but she stayed in place.

I peeked over at the closed door, Maddie nowhere in sight.

“I’ve got a person for you. There’s a club I used to frequent in LA.”

“A club?” I parroted, like I had never heard the word before. I thought this was all supposed to be so quiet and shameful. Things that happened in dungeons or behind closed doors. How many people were out there doing this?

“Yeah, a club,” he said, an excited shine in his eyes. “There is a syndicate in Phoenix called Serenity.” He ran a hand down the side of Belle’s face. “Go get the bike ready.”

She stood and marched out to where his Harley waited next to my Indian.

Fuck, I’d never seen a woman obey someone like that. Then again, there hadn’t been many long-term women in my life aside from Bou and my mom, and Bou would probably draw a gun on a man who tried to order her around.

Ward stood. “I’ll text you the contact info.”

“You need my number?”

“Funny.” He pulled out his phone, turned on his boot heel, and walked away.

By the time he slid his arms into the leather jacket Belle held open for him, the phone in my back pocket buzzed.

Maddie

When the bike pulled away in a cloud of dust, I pulled back the curtain and stole a glance at Cook, who still stood on the porch watching too. He glanced down at his phone again, then grabbed his bottle and moved toward the front door.

I scampered back to the sink, scrubbing all the pans and utensils we’d used.

When Cook entered he walked straight over to me, letting the door slam shut. “How long have you been washing dishes?”

“Since Belle left,” I said into the sink.

He reached into the water and pulled out my hand, rubbing the tips of my pruned fingers. “I’ve told you already that you don’t have to do all this.”

I stuck out my bottom lip. “I wanted to. For you.”

Something, though, distracted him. Pointing his nose upward, he scented the air, turning in one direction then the other. “You’ve made it smell sterile in here.”

What he was telling me, I couldn’t be certain. Perhaps one day I’d be able to read him better than now, but for today, I could only speculate.

The displeasure I sensed had me all tied in knots, and I rushed to apologize. “I’m sorry. We can get something to make it smell better. Or open the windows. Or—”

He pressed a finger over my lips, leaning close enough to make my heart do that hard pounding thing against my ribs. “Shhh.”

My wet hands fell to my sides, and I hushed.

“It’s fine, Maddie. I’m just not used to this place smelling like anything but dust and grime.” He grabbed the towel I’d hung from the stove handle and dried each of my hands. “Come on. I’ve got something for you.”

Jerking my head up, I couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at the corners of my mouth.

Cook curled his finger and nudged my chin up with his knuckle. “Damn, you’re stunning.”

His eyes roaming over my face brought heat into my cheeks, and I tried to look away.

But he growled. “Give me your eyes.”

Shit, that order made my knees quiver. I fixed my gaze on him, waiting for him to give me more. He didn’t, and it wrenched my gut when he let his hand fall.

“You have a gift?” I asked, trying to work out if or when I’d ever received a gift that didn’t hurt. I hoped this one wouldn’t, not that I believed Cook would ever harm me. “For me?”

“Something like that.” He grabbed the camera from the counter, handed it to me, and took hold of my hand.

I gripped him back. Why couldn’t I get enough of this specific connection when all the contact I’d known since I’d been twelve made me want to crawl out of my own skin?

“Come here,” he said, leading me across the small house.

Off to the side, there was a small hall that led to a bathroom and two bedrooms. He guided me to the one on the right.

The walls were bare, a twin bed the only furniture. The rumpled bed covering desperately needed to be washed, so I made a note to take care of that tomorrow. Although, I hadn’t seen a washing machine anywhere in the house. At the mill, Signora had always made us wash the sheets in the river, and they always had a metallic scent and orange hue. Too many iron deposits in the canyon. I hated battling the large swaths of wet fabric to get them clean enough, so I really hoped I wouldn’t have to hand-wash that bedding.

“Is this where you sleep?” I asked.

Cook made an affirmative sound deep in his throat, but he stared at the bed like it might bite me.

Turning his back to the bed, he dropped his hand to a doorknob on the only other door in the room. “Good thing—and trust me, there aren’t many—about this place is the closet space.” A shadow crossed his eyes briefly before he put away whatever he’d been thinking and smiled. “I spent a lot of time in here as a kid.”

That made my stomach twist. “In the closet?”

He cocked an almost laughing half grin. “I’ve been out of the closet for a long time, baby.”

“What?” My brows drew together.

His smile widened. “Never mind. Bad joke.”

He pulled open the door and guided me into an utterly dark space.

My heart thumped and stuttered as I went right back to the cage Amaranta put me in when I’d misbehaved. I hadn’t meant to upset Cook. Maybe I really needed to not clean up around here, but what would I do with myself? Still, if it meant I wouldn’t make him mad, I’d comply. Anything to keep me out of a cage.

I turned, trying to run from the small space, but Cook’s thick arm snaked around my waist. I clung to him, shivering like a scared puppy. Tears prickled in my eyes, and I shut them hard.

“Please.” I whimpered. “Don’t lock me up.” I couldn’t be trapped like that.

Cook shushed me, holding me in his muscled embrace, and I buried my face in his neck.

“I’m not locking you in here, Maddie.” He stroked my hair.

I could feel the rumble of his words flowing from his chest into mine as he held the back of my head.

“What’s wrong? I didn’t mean to—”

“Light?” I mumbled into his neck.

He moved a little, taking me with him, then said, “There. Look.”

Tentatively, I opened my eyes to a long room with a table running the length of one wall, but no windows. The food I’d eaten at dinner threatened to come up, so I swallowed several times. “Wh-what is it?”

I looked back and over Cook’s shoulder at the door. Was there a lock on it? Chains? My body wouldn’t stop shaking as I searched for something other than Cook to let me know I wasn’t going to be locked up.

Cook cradled my face in his palm, pushing his fingers into my hair. “What is it, nizhóní?”

“Huh?” I stared at him with my head cocked, and he blinked several times. “What did you call me?”

He wrinkled his nose, then twisted his mouth. “I didn’t... I’m...” A scowl crossed his face. “You stopped shaking.”

“You distracted me.” I kept my attention on him and my mind on the strange word. “Can you say it again?”

He looked in pain when he repeated, “Nizhóní?”

I rolled it around in my mouth, repeating it, then asked, “What does it mean?”

He set me down and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll explain later. I wanted to show you this. It’s what I used as a darkroom as a kid. To develop pictures.” He gestured at the camera I still held.

“Aahhh.” My whole body breathed a sigh of relief.

It made sense now. The camera. The absence of windows. Not a cage, but where Cook developed his photos from the old camera.

Cook strolled to a cabinet in the corner and opened the doors. Old bottles of chemicals and supplies sat inside, along with another camera. He pulled the second camera out and looked like he was gauging its weight.

“I like this one.” I cradled the one Vivi gave me to my chest.

He turned over the other one in his hands, inspecting the dials and where the film would be inserted. “We’ll develop the photos you took with that, but this one will take higher quality pics.”

Cook paused for a second, switching gears, then saying, “Hmmm. It looks like there might be film inside. Hope there’s nothing embarrassing on it.”

As he spoke, I noticed a small white corner sticking out from under the cabinet. Stooping, I pulled it out and stared at a man that looked almost identical to Cook, but this man had a bulging belly and flabby arms poking out of a tight white tank top. Short hair. No beard. He looked past the camera, off into the distance, and appeared angry, but angry in a way that it seemed like his whole being might constantly be pissed off.

“Fuck, Maddie. Give me that.”

He snatched the photo from my hands and turned his back on me.

Shit, I’d really done something to get him worked up now. His hard voice raked through my soul and made me cower on the floor.

“I thought I’d burned all these.”

His reaction was so much harsher than I’d seen so far, and I had no clue how to respond. I bowed my head, thinking how I could make it up to him. I didn’t mean to find the picture or for him to see it. Next time I saw something, I’d have to wait until he was out of the room before looking.

The paper ripped, and my fingers itched to stop him. The subject of the photo might be an ugly man, but the photographer captured his essence to perfection. It was a shame to destroy something so expertly crafted.

A gasp escaped my lips as he continued ripping it up.

“What is it?” He whirled around to find me kneeling.

“Nothing. Nothing,” I said, fighting to hold my body still. Angry men hit. They cut and bruised and found ways to make me shut up. “I’m sorry.”

“What?”

Angry, still. Don’t move, I told myself. If I’m invisible, maybe I can stay safe. I stared at a scuff on the tip of his boot, where he must work that lever on his bike.

He crouched down in front of me. “No, Maddie. I am the sorry one. A sorry sack of shit, but... that’s just, well, it’s ancient history.”

We sat there on the floor in silence for several minutes. Then I worked up the courage and said, “You can punish me if you want. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“What?” he barked again. “Not a fucking chance in hell. It’s not your fault at all.”

“I only meant to make things just right for you.” I didn’t know what more to say. Everything I’d done today had been to make him happy. To serve him. I needed him to tell me what to do. Or if he’d just punish me, I’d know what to not do again.

Cook’s firm hands gripped me around the upper arms and hauled me to my feet. “Listen to me. There will be no punishment for this.”

“You won’t lock me in here alone?”

“Never.”

“And you won’t—”

“I’ll never do anything to you that you don’t want, hear me?” He forced my chin up. “Eyes on me.”

I obeyed, like his words were a string that lifted my gaze by force. But I didn’t have to try to obey or resist. Following that order was as easy as falling asleep or breathing.

Cook breathed deeply and let his head fall backward.

Leaning closer to him, I waited, and when he lowered his head, I pressed my lips to his. I couldn’t exactly kiss him because I didn’t know how to initiate that. Every kiss I’d ever experienced had been stolen from my mouth. This was something I wanted now and had no fucking clue how to take it.

He went utterly still, though, so I sat back on my heels.

“Thank you, Cook,” I said. “For today. Taking care of me and letting me meet your friends. Belle was nice. And it’s nice to have clothes to wear from Bou, even if she scares me a little.”

“Belle,” he echoed, as if that triggered a thought.

“Will I get to see her again?”

“Who?” he asked. “Oh, Belle? Right. Maybe. Or you mean Bou?”

I shrugged. “Both, I guess. They were really different from each other, but I think I like them both.”

He didn’t speak for a while, but I could see things fluttering around behind his eyes.

“You can say whatever you need to say to me, Cook,” I offered. If I didn’t like it, I could just lock it away in the place in my mind where I stored all the shit Signora’s clients spewed at me.

“Fuck, Maddie, it’s not that.”

I couldn’t read him then, so I just lowered my head again.

“I’ll show you how to develop the photos tomorrow,” Cook said and guided me out of the closet and into the bedroom. He grabbed a plastic tote from under the bed and took out a set of fresh sheets and a blanket. “Let’s get the sheets changed so you can sleep in here tonight.”

“What about you?” I asked, wanting his arms around me while I slept.

“Not tonight. There’s no one but us in the house, and I’ll lock the doors. You’re safe.” He got to work stripping the bed.

“Safe?” I whispered, wondering again about the word. Safe was what I felt in his arms, not alone in a strange bed. I hugged myself while he finished making and turning down the bed.

“Get in,” he ordered.

Trying to be good, I sat on the edge and swung my feet, still clad in shoes, up onto the fresh sheets.

Cook bent over and removed my shoes, dusting the small debris off the white sheet and then covering me up. My heart lurched and something warm stirred inside. I desperately wanted him to come to bed with me. To hold me. And maybe more. When he stood up, I dragged my eyes up and down his body, wondering what it would feel like naked and moving against me.

He pulled the blanket up under my chin and turned away.

A knife stabbed through my chest that he didn’t want to be in here with me, but I couldn’t force him. Force was what I left behind at Barton Mill when he showed up and saved me. If he didn’t want to be here now, I wouldn’t demand it or beg for it, butI needed something...

At the door, he turned back to look at me and reached for the light. “Good night, Maddie.”

“Cook?” I asked.

“Yeah?”

“May I, um...” I bit down, closed my eyes, then forced them open again. “Take care of myself?”

“Of course,” he said.

I whipped the blanket back and shimmied out of my pants while he stood there gaping at me. Then I reclined on the pillow and let my hand trail down my body toward my pussy. I would think of him while I brought myself to orgasm. At least the little release might help me sleep.