Chapter Seventeen #3

“I’ll talk to him,” Sami promised with a sigh. “I’ll

probably do it tonight since none of the Doms I

usually play with are here. I can’t break another one in.”

“You want me to smack your ass?” Lucy asked. “You know I can

get switchy.”

Sami sighed. “I mean it’s probably better than yelling at

Ollie. And you won’t try to sweet-talk me into sex. You know this could work. I

hadn’t thought of trying to find a Domme.”

Lucy stood and shrugged. “Most of them would try, too. My

heterosexuality is a flaw. I don’t even like most men, but I need something

dick shaped to do it for me. Cursed fate.”

Sophy watched as they strode away. She smiled for the first

time since she’d walked into the club. She hadn’t changed yet. She’d found

Vivian and Sami in the lounge and needed to vent about Oliver. “I think they

might be the healthiest couple here tonight. Well, I mean beyond you and

British Captain America.”

Vivian shook her head. “You fundamentally misunderstand my

boyfriend.”

“Well, I know he’s a good man,” Sophy said, her voice softening.

“And he makes you happy. He seems to have a fan in your dad.”

Mal had stood beside her at the private airport when her

family had left to go back to Dallas. She and Mal had spent good time with her

parents. Hunter had flown in and seemed to have some serious hero worship when

it came to Mal. He’d sat around poking Mal to tell him stories about his SAS

days. When Cooper was there they would all sit together and drink beer and

laugh for hours.

Mal was happy, and it made her heart swell with love.

But there was something bittersweet, too. Some thread left

undone.

“Any news on Sosa?” Sophy sat on the couch, her garment bag

slung on the back of a chair. “Tell her if she comes back, she can live with

me. You know she likes to skate around the penthouse.”

Sosa was such a mix of wide-eyed girl and complex woman. “I

don’t think she’s coming back anytime soon.”

Sosa’s letter had brought tears to her eyes. After the

requisite sarcasm, she’d told Vivian how much she’d helped.

You are one of the main reasons I know I will regret the

path I’ve chosen. There’s a part of me that wants to stay. That wants for the

biggest decision I have to make to be whether I go to Dallas or stay in London.

I would have stayed. I love Ian and Charlotte, but I fit here in a way I would

never have believed. I know I didn’t tell you all the truth, but you know more

than anyone else. I know if I had given you a real chance, you might have been

able to save me.

Sosa didn’t know it, but they were going to save her. She’d

gotten together with Sami and Lucy and Mal and sworn to do everything they

could to find Sosa and solve the mystery.

Sophy squeezed her hand. “You’ll find her. Let me know if my

uncle’s connections can help.”

Vivian wrinkled her nose. “I think your uncle has done

enough.”

Sophy was smiling again. “I don’t know. He’s having fun. He

had Tarquin removed from all his clubs, and I can’t wait for the next time that

idiot decides to fly.”

“What did you do?” Everyone was having a blast fucking with

her ex. The poor man should be praying for a world event so the MI6 team

wouldn’t have time to screw with him. It had become their favorite hobby.

Sophy shrugged. “I didn’t. Sami has a friend. She might have

gotten his ass put on the no-fly list.”

“You have to get them to stop. I’m fine.” She didn’t care

anymore. Truly didn’t. She’d forgiven herself for the mistakes, and no one who

mattered cared about anything but her. “I’m beyond happy, and I don’t need some

asshole seeking revenge. We have enough of those.”

“How is the hunt for that guy going?” Sophy asked.

“You mean the top-secret hunt for Kit Lowe, who disappeared

a week ago? That guy?”

Sophy’s cheeks flushed. “I might have heard Ollie.”

Vivian managed to not roll her eyes. “He’s talking to you.

He’s not supposed to. He’s being a gossipy asshole, and it’s going to get him

in trouble.”

“You know I would never say anything,” Sophy insisted.

Vivian waved that off. “I know, but I don’t want you stuck

in the middle of this. Even I’m staying on the sidelines. We don’t know what

we’re getting into. Just be careful.”

“She won’t say anything, but she is in trouble. You know

there’s no street clothes on the dungeon floor or in the lounge during open

hours,” a familiar voice said. A voice who should be up in his room.

Sophy’s eyes widened. “What are you doing?”

Oliver was in a wheelchair, his left leg sticking out on a

padded ledge. He wore a bathrobe and had a glass of Scotch in his hand.

“Proving that I’m fit for work. And play. I can’t stand being in bed a second

longer. Father has me doing paperwork and dealing with the fallout from the Kirkallans. They’re in a state. I have to figure out how

closely aligned they really are with The Chateau and how much they knew.”

“They didn’t know Tatiana had a trigger,” Vivian pointed

out. “So they definitely didn’t know everything.”

Oliver sighed. “As long as I’m down, Father is going to have

me on research duty. It’s terrible. So I need to be on my feet in no time at

all. I’ve got these new wheels, and I’m taking them everywhere. I was worried,

but I really pull off this look.”

Sophy stood and faced him. “You are going to be the death of

me. Oliver, get back upstairs. You are not letting some sub reinjure your leg

because you’re horny. And you’re not in fet wear

either.”

Oliver shook his head. “Everything I wear is fet wear, and this is my club when my father’s not around.”

Sophy let out a frustrated huff and started pushing his

wheelchair toward the lifts. They were arguing all the way.

Vivian was so happy she and Mal hadn’t suffered through that

phase.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m going to miss your

parents.” He was there all broad and masculine.

“My parents are going to miss you, too,” she acknowledged,

shifting over to let him in. “You fit right in, unlike a lot of my boyfriends

before. You know I should have run. I had some pretty hard and fast rules about

dating, and you were a walking red flag.”

His lips spread in a slow, sexy smile. “You did run, but I

found you.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “You did not come looking for

me. You were horrified.”

He shook his head. He looked delicious in his leathers, the

vest showing off his cut torso. “I remember it differently. You ran away and I

spent a year and a half pining for you until I found you again and dropped to

my knees and begged your forgiveness.”

He so hadn’t. “You’ve spent too much time with my uncle.”

Uncle Ian liked to rewrite history. Said it made for a

happier future.

“I like your uncle. And Kenzie’s husband is pretty solid,”

Mal said, settling in beside her. He had a beer in his hand. “Though I barely

got to know him. Between him helping look for Sosa and the unholy amount of

time those two spend in bed, he wasn’t around much.”

Ben had shown up a few days before. The Taggarts had spent

all their time searching for Sosa and finally had to give up and go home.

Though she knew they had eyes and ears everywhere. They wouldn’t stop either.

Mal brought her hand to his lips. “I love your whole family.

They are entirely amusing. I’ve been talking to William about them in session.

I think it’s the first time he believes I might have real mental problems.”

She laughed. It was Saturday night and she was with the man

she loved. What could go wrong?

“Hey, I’m looking for Damon or Ian,” a deep voice said. It

held a strong accent. One that spoke of the Southern US and Texas.

A man with golden brown hair stood at the entrance to the

lounge. He wore all black, and he wasn’t alone. He was dragging someone.

“Who is that?” Mal asked.

Vivian knew.

Tennessee Smith.

He winked her way. “Hey there, Vivi. Ah, it must be play

night. My sons are parking the car, but I wanted to get this one in as soon as

possible. People get weird when you haul an unconscious dude through the

streets of London. I don’t suppose I caught Ian.”

“He left with my parents and the twins a few hours ago,”

Vivian said, standing up and trying to figure out what was happening. “But

Damon is upstairs. Who is that?”

Ten Smith smiled, a sharp-edged expression. “This is Kit

Lowe, and let me tell you he was hard to find. Doesn’t seem to have much to

say. We’re going to have fun with this one.”

He started to drag his prey toward the lift.

Mal grabbed her hand. “I don’t think we’re playing tonight,

love.”

No, they weren’t. The game had just gotten far too

dangerous.

But she wasn’t afraid. Mal started to lead her to the locker

room.

It was time to get back to work.

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