Chapter 22
twenty-two
I follow his directions to the letter, sliding into the Uber’s back seat with my pulse banging in my ears and my fingers slippery on my phone.
I was calmer under fucking fire. I’m out of practice being in physical danger.
The Uber driver, a young Sikh with a full beard, bright blue turban, and lively eyes, passes me an envelope. “Where we off to, mate? Your friend told me to wait here for fifteen minutes but he was light on details.”
“Give me a second,” I say, opening the envelope and reading De Leon’s precise print.
Text only from now on until we’re back together. Tell the driver to drive towards Nadderwater, outside Exeter. If I don’t text you in thirty minutes, redirect the driver to the evac point.
I flip the phone over and set a timer.
“Nadderwater, buddy,” I say.
“Sure, mate. Usually, the destination has to be pre-booked, but your mate paid a hundred extra for the privilege, so I guess I’m going wherever you tell me to.”
“Good,” I nod, pulling a different phone out of my bag. I text Squid, then Manny and Logan.
Squid: Get your heart rate down or I’m sending an ambulance to your GPS.
I send him back a middle-finger emoji, but I put my head back against the Uber’s seat and take slow, deep breaths.
As I’m starting to focus on the rolling, green countryside beyond the window, my phone goes.
Logan.
“Get out of there, Max,” he says, without a hello. Picking up my bad habits. “I’m assuming De Leon has an escape plan. Take it. These interviews aren’t worth the risk.”
“I’m okay,” I reassure him, glad my voice is steady after Squid’s warning. “Just moving locations. And I’ve got a great lead I want to talk to you about. Did you ever meet, uh, her boyfriend, Fred?”
“No, but I vaguely remember her mentioning him once or twice. Who is he?”
“Long-time boyfriend. He was there.”
“Jesus,” Logan says softly. “Really? I didn’t think we had a shot at finding an eyewitness. Do you think he’ll talk to you?”
“Worth a try. The breakup was ugly. Destroyed his marriage. He might have an axe to grind.”
“Max, fuck. I have no way to thank you for this. But fuck’s sake, stay safe.”
“I will. I still think he’s only one step away from being on Interpol’s most wanted, but our friend knows his business.
” I rub my hand over my face, remembering my conversation with De Leon over black pudding.
I haven’t been able to talk with Logan without De Leon in the damn room, so I seize my chance and hope he hasn’t bugged this phone.
“He’s asking a lot of questions about our girls. He’s interested.”
Logan’s swallow rings over the phone. “Interested like he might want his own little, or interested like he might want to add one to his butterfly collection?”
“Personally, I think the latter, but he says he’s going to ask you to come to playgroup when we get back.”
“Uh, do you think that’s a good idea?” Logan asks.
“Sure, after he’s had a few million worth of therapy.”
Logan chuckles. “I don’t think he’s that bad. But I’d be nervous letting him be unsupervised around littles. Can you imagine what he’d do if Mary Lisa pawed him the way she was pawing you?”
“She’d be missing those acrylics for sure.”
“Yeah, I can’t really see that going well.”
The phone dedicated to De Leon, which is resting on my thigh, vibrates.
De Leon: Clear. Tell the driver the Blue Chestnut Country House in Huxham. I’ll meet you there in thirty. Next time you talk smack about me with Logan, I’m letting the mercs have you.
I curse colorfully. “Lo, I’ve gotta go. Our friend is listening.”
Logan curses even more colorfully. “Stay safe, Maxie. I need you more than any witness.”
“You got it, buddy.” I hang up and tell the driver our destination. He takes the change in stride and now that I’m off the phone, offers a running commentary about the best places for “a gravy” to go with my pie and chips.
“Ask Miz Skirmish at the desk to warm those up for you. Nothing worse than cold chips, mate. Appreciate you not eating in the car.”
It hadn’t occurred to me. The mercs’ appearance made my throat so tight and created such a fucking vortex in my gut that I don’t think I could choke down a single fry, hot or cold.
The friendly driver drops me off at the end of a gravel lane lined by cedars.
Blue Chestnut Country House is a sturdy brick building with slight pretensions in the form of two white columns framing the door.
But the lady who greets me and introduces herself as Leeza Skirmish, doesn’t have any.
She’s warm and bustling and gets me seated in what she calls the “second lounge,” a room with small wooden tables, wingback chairs, and a tiny bar I’m surprised Miz Skirmish can fit behind, until my “man friend” arrives.
I keep my amusement to myself as I settle into the gingham-checked chair.
She offers me a drink to go with my pie and fries, and when I ask, warms them up for me as the driver said. I’m still picking at the thick fries, which really aren’t half bad with vinegar and salt instead of ketchup or mayo, when De Leon arrives.
He’s carrying our bags, which he drops at the door, before throwing himself heavily into the chair across from me.
In the slanting sunlight through the “second lounge’s” windows, I can see the bruising down the left side of his face.
“Backup at our b-and-b,” he explains.
“Miz Skirmish’ll probably give you some frozen peas for that. You won’t be able to go out in public tomorrow without attracting some attention if you don’t get something on it.”
De Leon fingers his jaw. “Eh. You didn’t save me a pie.”
“I did. Miz Skirmish has it in the kitchen. She’ll heat it up for you. Nice lady.”
De Leon nods. “She’s a friend of a friend of a friend. She won’t say a word about us being here to anyone. We lay low today and tomorrow.”
“I’m fine with that. I have some calls to make.”
“Today was more of an adventure than I’d have liked. But you did good. No great harm done, and now we know they’ve got at least three on you. Two men and a woman.”
“Think they’ll switch it up now? They must know I spotted them.”
De Leon waits until the cheerful, pink-cheeked Miz Skirmish comes and goes. He orders us both beers, so I guess he thinks we’re out of danger for now.
“Would you recognize their faces if you saw them again?” De Leon asks.
“Yeah. I’m good with faces.” And names. Dates of birth. Social security numbers. Just don’t ask me to interact with people one-on-one.
“Okay, good.” Miz Skirmish arrives with his pie, steaming on a blue-patterned china plate, which is a little incongruous, and De Leon dives in. Between bites, not looking up at me, he says, “Stop bad-mouthing me to Logan.”
“I wasn’t bad-mouthing you. I’m legit concerned about unleashing you on littles. I know they seem like they’re playing dress-up or something. They’re not. They live this—”
“I get that,” De Leon growls, before sinking a long drink of his beer. “Maybe I was a little glib when I was asking you questions. It’s not academic curiosity. Maybe I feel the same thing you do.”
I almost ask him whether he’s sure he has feelings, but the guy seems like he’s trying to open up. Rustily. But he’s making an effort.
“You can’t make fun of them. Or scare them. Lo explained to me how the whole world is unsafe for littles. You have to respect their safe places, and you have to make your relationship one of them.”
“A safe place?” His eyes lift to mine, take in my expression, and drop back to his plate. “I can do that.”
“You can create a safe place?”
“I’m creatin’ one for you, ain’t I? Look, Max, I haven’t had a second date in a decade. Women are scared of me, just like you are—”
“I’m not scared of you,” I object.
He holds up his fork. “Just listen. I’ve seen Logan with his girl.
I’ve listened to hours of you talking to yours.
” He ignores the growl that rattles my chest. “At first, I thought you were just whipped. But it’s not the same.
What you’re creating with these girls, it’s special.
It’s . . . I don’t know what to call it.
I don’t think there are good words for some of what you’re doing. ”
“There aren’t,” I agree. “Sometimes it’s really hard to put this stuff into words.”
“The, uh, play aspect of it. That appeals to me.”
I glance around to make sure I’m not about to scandalize the cheerful Miz Skirmish. “The play element like Twister or the play element like spanking?”
He keeps his head down over his food, but the back of his neck reddens. “Both.”
“You can’t actually, physically hurt them.”
He shakes his head. “I know you think I’m a monster, and I’ll admit I’ve done some fucked up things. But it was in the service of my fucking country. I don’t have to justify myself to you, Max, so I’m not sure why I’m trying, but I wouldn’t ever injure a girl I was dating.”
“You have to justify yourself to me because I’m the gatekeeper into this world for right now.
And even if I give you the nod, you’ll have to justify yourself to Logan, who will gatekeep your ass twice as hard.
There are lots of different kind of injury.
It took me a while to understand that. Be sure you know the difference before you even think about dipping a toe in this pool.
” Which reminds me that my own little is probably feeling somewhat neglected.
“Speaking of which, my girl could probably use a call. Gimme a half-hour alone in the room, okay?”
De Leon shakes his head. “I need to clear the room first. Give me five.”
He abandons his pie mid-bite, rises, and disappears off toward the entryway. Give him this, he’s a pro at what he does.
While I wait, I message my bumble.
Hey, baby. I’m about to get a little alone time. Are you free?
Bumble: YESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYES
I grin at my phone as warmth swells my chest. Is there anything as good as my little’s enthusiasm?
Are you alone? Can we video?
Bumble: I’ll go to my room now. Let me just tell Baachan.
I’ll call you as soon as I’m alone.