Chapter Fifteen #2

head. “I don’t even think he’ll cook him first.”

“I don’t even think he’ll kill him first,” Ranger whispered

back.

He was sick of all of this. “Shut the fuck up, you two.”

The cuffs came off, but Olivia didn’t turn away from him. In

fact, all her tears were gone and her eyes narrowed as she looked at him. She

did not in any way look like a broken woman. “So let me get this straight. You

are a predatory male who used your best friend for cash after you got out of

prison, which you haven’t mentioned to me before today.”

He should have told her and ended all of this before she got

hurt. It was his fault. Still, he managed what he hoped was a nasty smirk.

“Well, I’ve found it’s hard to get into rich girl panties when you’ve served

time.”

“So the violent criminal who doesn’t care about anyone up

and confesses to a crime he didn’t commit?”

Astro gasped. “How does she know?”

Olivia turned to the men. He wasn’t sure which one was Trey

and which one was Marty, but both were watching the scene like it was some

drama playing out for their entertainment.

“We can’t be sure of that. Just because we think Jessica was

lying doesn’t mean he’s not guilty,” the deputy explained with a grave tone.

“We still have the footage from the bar.”

“I want to see it. Tanya says it is not conclusive. He

didn’t drug my drink,” she explained patiently. “I’m going to sit in here with

him and make sure he’s safe until your boss and my dad come to their senses and

let him out.”

“She’s camping out in prison for a man,” Ranger said. “This

is some good gossip. Do you think her momma knows? I bet she’ll send food, and

Abby sends real good food.”

She ignored the peanut gallery. “Keane, I know you didn’t do

it, so that makes me wonder why a hardened criminal like yourself is so

desperate to push away a woman who would obviously do anything to help you. I

will look at this footage they have. It will be clear whose drink it is. Do you

remember seeing a margarita glass with an umbrella instead of a lime?” She

seemed slightly flustered. “Of course you probably didn’t notice. Anyway, at

least we’ll be able to track it because I’m the only one they do that for.”

“That’s right,” Ranger said with a whistle. “Livie likes

that bougie stuff that costs more. My wife wanted to try it, but I told her she

could take the margaritas out of the slushie machine. We’re not fancy.”

“I don’t see what an umbrella has to do with this.” Why

wasn’t she leaving? “Olivia, I’ve made myself plain. I did it. I was having

fun. That’s all. You need to leave before you get hurt again.”

“Damn, I missed that.” The deputy scratched his head. “Now

that I think about it, there wasn’t an umbrella in the drink. I can be a

dumbass sometimes. I watched it four times. That drink wasn’t yours. Well, I

need to talk to the sheriff. We’ll have some paperwork to do to get him out of

here. Unless he still wants to confess, because that would actually save me a

lot of typing.”

“No, he is not going to jail so you don’t have to do some

paperwork,” Olivia announced. She pointed toward the other cell. “I think

they’ve sobered up now. Could you please let them out? I need to talk to my man

even though he’s being a massive martyr.”

What? He clenched the cell bars. “Olivia, I told you what

you mean to me.”

He’d humiliated her in front of people she knew. Why was she

acting like this? Like she heard all the things and didn’t care. Like she still

cared about him.

“You told me a bunch of bullshit meant to make me cry and

run away. Well, buckle up because I’m stronger than a few words. You want to

say some nasty things to me? I can take it,” Olivia said with a frown, looking

tired and so fucking pretty it made his heart hurt. “You are being the worst

kind of Dom. The one who sacrifices because he doesn’t think his subs can

handle it.”

“I don’t think that’s the worst,” Astro whispered. “My wife

reads a bunch of those books, and she says the worst is the type called a storm

or something. I don’t know what that means.”

The deputy sighed. “Yeah, it’s a weird night. Come on, you

two. Your wives should be here any minute.”

“I’m trying to help you,” Keane said between clenched teeth.

“You don’t know how bad this can get.”

“Uh, we could stay longer,” Ranger admitted. “No need to

call the wives.”

“Come on.” The deputy opened their cell. “Go out and wait

with Tanya.” He looked back at Keane before sliding the key into the lock and

opening it. “You need to stay here until I talk to my boss. Livie, you want

in?”

She nodded. “I do. I have some things to say to my Dom.

Could you check and make sure my dad doesn’t come in to try to rescue me from

the man I love? Well, one of them. You might check and make sure he didn’t

already alienate the other one. Were you as mean to Garrett as you were to me?”

He held firm. “I do not want her in this cell. Take her

out.”

Her eyes rolled. The brat. She simply pushed and slipped in.

“You can lock us in until the paperwork clears. Make sure Garrett doesn’t run.

Bring him in here if you have to. I can only keep eyes on one of them at a

time, it seems. I don’t know how my momma does it.”

The sound of the lock clicking closed was even worse now

because she was here with him.

“You have to leave.” He could remember everything. He

dreamed about it at night when he could sleep. He learned sleep was his

vulnerable time, the time when the predators came out.

He felt soft hands on him. “It’s okay, Master.”

It wasn’t. It never was. It was pain and horror and

violation. The first time he’d been slammed down and woken up in the infirmary,

he hadn’t known what all had been done to him.

The second time he was pretty sure.

“Master, I’m not letting them take you,” she said

soothingly. “I won’t allow them to hurt you again.”

Things he should be saying. If he was a man. Had he lost

that in prison, too?

She wrapped her arms around him and held him so tight. “I’m

not letting you go. You spit all the bile you need to, Master. Say it all. I

can take it. But what I won’t do is leave you. If you run, I’ll follow. If you

hide, I’ll find you and make sure you’re taken care of because I love you. Even

if you can’t love me.”

The horror of it all seemed to wash over him like it had

been held back because he couldn’t handle it all at once, but she was here now.

She was here and he could let it go. He clutched her so tight and felt his

tears.

That wasn’t manly either, but it felt good.

“Let it out, Master. Let me share it. It’s what I want. I

want to share everything with you. All the joy and all the pain. It’s ours.”

“Olivia,” his voice sounded raspy, and he was pretty sure he

couldn’t admit this if he was staring at her face. But with her wrapped around

him like the warmest, safest blanket ever, it came out. “They…they hurt me in

there.”

Her arms tightened. “I still love you. I hate that it

happened, but I’m glad you’re here, Master.”

“Olivia…” He couldn’t say the words.

She leaned back so she could look at him. “They raped you.

They beat you. It doesn’t make you any less my Master, but not accepting my

love and comfort does. Not accepting our help does make you less. You are not

less, Keane Rollins. You have survived things no one else could. So stop this

whole martyr act and accept that we are a family and that means we’re together

no matter what.”

Family. He never had one. His mother tried, but she was so

young and he’d been a burden, proof that she was everything her parents told

her she was. He could still remember how peaceful she’d looked when she died.

And then it was endless rounds of people who never got to

know him.

Then there was Garrett. Stupid, fragile Garrett, who in the

beginning thought someone would change their mind and come for him, but no one

ever did.

So they found each other. And then it happened and he was

sure Garrett would pull back, but he never did. Even when he went to law

school, he never hid his best friend from his fellow students and later his

coworkers. He’d been there the day they’d released him, driving up from Houston

in a beat-up sedan with a bag of tacos from some fast-food place because that

was what they ate when they celebrated.

He loved Olivia. And he loved Garrett, but this was why he’d

held off. At first because they were young and he was honestly confused at his

feelings, and then because it felt dirty. It wasn’t. What had happened to him

didn’t make him dirty.

He held Olivia. His sub. His savior.

She held him through the storm, inching him over to that

stupid bench where he sat and she moved onto his lap. She didn’t say anything

more, simply let him go.

He couldn’t remember a time since childhood when he’d cried.

What he remembered were fists telling him if he wanted to cry, they would give

him something to cry about. So he stopped.

But his Olivia wouldn’t let him keep it in another second.

She pulled the poison from his veins with her sweetness and her strength.

He held her close and kissed her cheek. “I have to tell

you.”

She nodded and he began.

* * * *

Olivia’s heart hurt as he held her closer. Like he

was still afraid she would run.

He would find out once she decided she loved someone, she

didn’t let go. Like she hadn’t with Bobby. When she realized he couldn’t love

her romantically, she didn’t run. She allowed her own love to turn into an

infinitely warm friendship that they both needed. It wasn’t going to be that

way with this man. He was going to love her in every way possible.

She smoothed his hair back and rubbed her cheek against his,

waiting. She would give him all the time in the world. He’d held these stories

for a long time. He likely thought she would leave him over this story, but

she’d always known there would be an explanation because he was a good man.

“I was seventeen,” he said quietly. “Garrett and I were in a

group home at the time. We moved in when we were sixteen. They do that a lot

when you’re about to leave the system. I had one semester of high school left.

Half really, since it happened over spring break. I’m surprised your dad didn’t

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