Chapter 38 #2
“We didn’t exactly get off on the best foot, did we?
” I respond. “I care about Blunts. For all its flaws, it’s my second home.
It’s full of the people I love. My family.
I feel a very personal sense of responsibility toward the house submissives.
Threatening to disband my family and rob my friends of their employment and place of belonging doesn’t sit well with me. ”
Sutter chuckles. “I could tell. I notice you did something about it, though. Faster than I expected.”
“Did you know about the Wolfpack when you threatened me at the museum?”
“I threatened the club, not you. I’m all for dramatics but let’s keep things in perspective.
And no, I didn’t know about this bullshit ‘wolfpack,’ as they call themselves but I knew that some of the Doms at Blunts had very unhealthy attitudes.
If you’d asked me for a list—which I notice you didn’t do—Drew and Emmett would have been on it. ”
“After you threatened me,” I say emphatically. “I wouldn’t have trusted you to tell me the truth about who you thought was a problem.”
“Do you trust me now?”
“No but I’ll take that list.”
“Ten’s on it,” Sutter says, nodding at the door Ten exited out of.
I nod. “I’m aware of his issues. We’re addressing them. Next.”
“Karl Van Haas and the man who calls himself Shedo, although I believe his real name is Jun Hayakawa, on the committee. Among the general members, Cole Ward and Hart Garibaldi. They all made disparaging remarks about age-play and the people who practice it in Saoirse’s hearing.”
“I’m sorry they intimidated her,” I say as I write down the names.
Karl and Shedo are no surprise. They’ve been in Ten’s corner all along.
Hart’s an unknown. He’s a junior member, only at the club on weekends, and I don’t think I’ve ever had a one-on-one conversation with him.
He failed to protect Shannie from the Wolfpack, so he was already on my shitlist. Cole, on the other hand, I’ve scened with more than once, although all before I met Emily, and he was on my goddamn paintball team just a few days ago.
If he had issues with age-play, he could have said something.
“Although Karl and Shedo are resistant to age-play, they’re not bad Doms,” I tell Sutter.
“I think highly enough of Karl to trust him with the discipline of a submissive who is still exploring the depths of her masochism. I don’t know Hart very well but I already have concerns about him that need to be addressed.
Cole’s a friend and I’ll have a damn word with him. ”
Sutter nods. “Not everyone will accept age-play. I accept that. But there needs to be greater tolerance. Saoirse was just starting to let her little out and the attitude of the Blunts’ Doms towards age-play set her back months.
She was so repressed when she met me, that it took more than a week for her to introduce me to her stuffies.
During that time, she stayed over at my place several times and I took her on a weekend to England.
Can you imagine any little being without her stuffies for that long?
Just because they made her too afraid to show me—me, her daddy—her littleness for fear of being judged. ”
Knowing how important Peter Aloha Bunny and her other stuffies are to Emily, no I can’t. It makes my chest ache to know that my club brothers did that to Saoirse with their cruel, careless words.
“I can only apologize on behalf of Blunts and promise that there is change coming. It might not be as fast as you want but it is happening.”
Sutter steeples his hands in front of him and taps his index fingers against his chin.
“For all that we got off on the wrong foot, I believe you, Logan. And I was surprised at how quickly you started cleaning house. Surprised and impressed. So maybe we can agree to a stay of execution. Let’s call it a probationary period. ”
As tempted as I am to use my pen like a dart and see if I can stick a bullseye right between his eyes, I ask calmly, “How long would this probationary period last?”
He spreads his hands. “Up to you. You’re the catalyst of change.”
“Two years,” I respond, knowing that I’m trying it on.
He scoffs. “Six months.”
“A year, that’s the shortest it’s reasonable to ask for an institutional, cultural change.”
“I’ll give you a year. I’ll have some stipulations. Let’s call them milestones. I’ll email them to you.”
The dart idea seems better and better. “You do that.”
“Our littles are already friends, you know,” Sutter says, his smile cracking wide.
That doesn’t make us friends. I’ll have to get past the whole threatening to dismantle my second family thing, first.
“I appreciate your help with Fleur,” I say, a little grudgingly.
The smirk slides off his face. He sits forward, letting his hands dangle between his knees.
“You’re welcome. I’m sincere in my desire to help.
Since Myles is involved, I can guess where things are going.
I’m not ex-military the way you and he are but I’ve been hunting game since I was old enough to hold a rifle.
” He sits back and tips his head. “Hunting a wolf instead of a deer? I don’t reckon it would be that different. ”
I’ve never hunted deer, or wolves but I suspect it is very different.
It breaks something inside you, to kill another human being.
It’s a Rubicon you can’t ever come back from.
A wound that never heals. It’s always there, you always know there’s something you’re capable of doing that other people aren’t.
Something deeply, deeply wrong, no matter how right the reasons.
I’ve seen a lot of those “two kinds of people in the world” memes but the true two kinds of people in the world are those who have murdered and those who haven’t. I’ve come to terms with being among the former. I never want to encourage anyone to join that particular clique.
“How do you know Myles?” I ask instead of addressing the elephant in the room.
“I have a family problem, which is also a corporate problem since my business is a family business. Someone who knows someone recommended Myles to me as . . . well, a fixer. I need some corporate espionage done on the very down low. After interviewing Myles, I put him on retainer for a year. As we were talking, I realized we share certain interests. I mentioned I’d just joined Blunts.
With a man like Myles, it’s important to be scrupulously honest. A whiff of dishonesty and I’d never hear from him again.
I told him about my intentions for the club—”
“Did you hire him to help you?” I interject.
If Myles accepted that assignment, I’ll strangle him.
“No. Myles told me he wouldn’t do anything to risk not being accepted in your circle of caregivers and littles. I understand and respect his boundary.”
“Playgroup’s great but it’s not a substitute for Blunts,” I say. “I’ll accept your whole probation thing because I believe I can turn Blunts around but I’m warning you, I will fight you tooth and nail if you try to shut down my club.”
“I believe you.” Sutter’s smirk slides back into place. “Nothing like a game against a worthy adversary, right?”
If he thinks he’s my Moriarty, he can fucking well think again.
“Sure. Are we done?” I ask.
“Not quite. I’d like to formally hire you and your partners to investigate Andrew Selman and his wolfpack.”
“Why? You’ve already got Myles on retainer.”
“A number of reasons including client confidentiality. I have a feeling we’re going to need it before we’re done.”
I can’t argue with that. “I’ll work up a cost estimate and email it to you. Ten doesn’t work for us but if he’s going to hare off tracking wolfpack members, I’d like to get his costs covered somehow.”
“I don’t need a cost estimate,” Sutter responds with a wave. “I’ll put you on retainer same as Myles. Thirty grand to start. If you anticipate going over that in a week, email me.”
He slides his business card across my desk.
Sutter James, CEO
Whitley James Wineries
Winterwyne Entertainment Group
Who the hell is this kid? CEO at twenty-two? Throwing around thirty-thousand-dollar retainers? He’s bullshitting; he has to be. If he’s not, I need to get Max on him and make sure he’s not fronting a drug cartel or something.
“Okay, I’ll email you my terms of business. Any issues, call me.”
Sutter nods. “That’s fine.” He stands and sticks out his hand. “I look forward to having my own P.I. on retainer.” He chuckles. “My very own Daddy P.I. Talk soon, Logan.”
After I shake his hand—reluctantly—he shoves his hands in his pockets and strolls out of my office.