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“When?”
“Tonight.”
Her mouth dry, she leaned against her desk. After her lunch date with Chris, she wasn’t entirely certain she wanted to see him again. Perhaps ‘want’ wasn’t the correct word. She had the distinct feeling the man had a hidden agenda. “I’m sorry but I’m busy tonight.”
“I was very clear in my direction when I hired you. Was I not?” Mistress Jade asked then exhaled. “He is one of our best clients. If you want to continue working for me, you will change your plans. Obedience is necessary. Do you understand what I’m saying to you, Skyler?”
She walked to her office door and turned off the lights, closing and locking before bothering to answer. “Yes. I understand.” Obedience. The word was terrifying as well as chilling.
“Excellent. I’ll text you the particulars. Do not disappoint me as you did before. There are no additional second chances.”
The call was ended and Destiny shook her head. She leaned against the wall and debated her reasons for going at all. Detective Givens didn’t want her help. Michael was AWOL. She was in over her head and had no understanding of a true BDSM lifestyle. Yep. She was out of her freaking mind, but she could still taste his lips. His scent lingered on her clothes. The commanding manner in which he studied her was all consuming. She brushed her fingers across her lips, trembling as she thought about the kiss. He wanted her – her. She smiled and pushed second guessing out of her mind. “One night,” she whispered, as if convincing herself.
Exhaling, she stood tall, tossed her hair behind her shoulders and walked toward the building’s entrance. The sun was setting but the orange and fuchsia infused hue was bright enough she winced as she walked outside, glancing at her surroundings. Given the nature of the other businesses in her building, there were few other cars in the parking lot at almost six. She’d planned on a hot bubble bath and wine, not an evening with a Master. Ten thousand dollars. The money was good, but the reason for his request gnawed at her stomach. Who was the game player? She laughed. That was the question indeed.
I will own you…
The words lingered, burying into the deep recesses in her mind. As she headed for her car, she heard the blip of a text coming through. She waited until she’d crossed the parking lot before looking at the details. She wasn’t familiar with the street address but time was certainly of the essence. She had two hours in which to be at his home, prepared for a night’s stay. Irritated, she shoved the phone in her purse and yanked out her car keys. What the hell was she going to wear? Why was she doing this? The questions heightened her level of anxiety.
Blink! Tink!
Instantly the hairs stood up on the back of her neck. She swallowed hard then chastised her concern. Who was going to here, waiting for her? Some boogeyman who knew exactly when she was leaving for the day? Right. Very slowly she turned around. There was no one in sight. There were dozens of cars going in both directions on the street. There was nothing to worry about.
Destiny opened the car door and could swear she felt a hot breath settle on her cheek. Shifting, she glanced over her shoulder and craned her neck. She blinked in an effort to focus given the distance. There was a man standing on the opposite side of the street, his hands in his pockets, his gaze directed toward her. Unable to make out any details, she took several steps forward. “Michael?” The single word seemed to echo. She took several additional steps forward. Yes, he was there, watching her. Through the zooming cars and no matter how far away he was, she could see how dark and cold his eyes were, his expression bleak and full of rage. Was she imagining the visit? No, he was following her, goading her but why? The club? The Master? Or the murders? She had a terrible feeling the latter. Mesmerized, she continued forward.
Beep!
“Shit!” Dear God. She’d stepped off the curb. Jerking back, she slapped her hand over her heart and calmed her breathing. What the hell is wrong with you? He remained motionless, almost daring her to come to him. Anger replaced whatever level of fear she might have had. He was toying with her and she was pissed. If he had any information about the murders, by damn he was going to tell her. She sprinted back toward the car. He was still in plain sight when she threw open the door and climbed inside.
Gunning the engine, she reversed out of the parking spot, her tires squealing when she braked to a halt. Traffic kept her idling but he remained still, statuesque. Was he grinning? Asshole! She looked continuously from right to left and after a full minute, her impatience took over and she floored the gas, careening in front of oncoming traffic. Honks and hand gestures only infused her increasing rage.
The few seconds she’d taken her eye off of the sidewalk, Michael had disappeared. She checked her rear view mirror and eased into the right lane, determined to find him. Whether confronting him was a good idea didn’t matter any longer. If he had something to say to her, then he was going to spill everything.
Leaning forward, she craned her neck and noticed a man walking briskly. In definitive motions, he turned a corner, his pace quickened. She hissed given the traffic was crawling. When she made it to the turn, she jerked the steering wheel and flew down the street. Michael was nowhere to be seen. She drove for several blocks, turned around and headed the opposite way. No sign of him. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Slapping her hand on the dashboard, she was forced to stop at a light and debated what she should do. If he didn’t want to be found, then he had several opportunities to hide in a store or slide down a back alley toward his car.
This was stupid. She’d wasted twenty minutes. Time she didn’t need to lose. She pulled to a curb, shoving the gear into park, and climbed out of the car. She scanned every inch of both sides of the street. He was there. He was watching. He was also laughing. She’d bet on her medical license the man had played her all along. She debated calling Montana. He should know what he was dealing with.
Reality slithered into the back of her mind. What was she going to tell him? That some guy that she’d never be able to identify appeared to be standing on the opposite side of a public street? Or that she decided to follow some stranger, driving like a maniac in an effort to track him down? Now she rolled her eyes. Her behavior was bordering on insidious.
Disgruntled, she eased back into her car and pulled out her phone. Missed call. Hmmm… At this point she was either going to go to Master Sampson’s house or crawl into a hole. A sly smile crossed her face, desire burning within. Time to shed the mask.
* * *
“One beer. That’s it. I’m not in the mood,” Montana said under his breath. He’d had disturbing thoughts the entire day and his concerns about Destiny’s safety were off the charts. She wasn’t returning his calls. They’d driven by her home and the office, finding nothing. With no direct threat, he couldn’t authorize a patrol car to watch her home, no matter how damning Michael’s note seemed to them. But he knew that it was only a matter of time.
“Yeah. Yeah. That’s what you always say. There’s nothing more we can do. Every cop in the city is looking for Michael. We’ve been to his place of employment, talked to the ex and there are officers staking out the shit hole he lives in. I think we earned a brewski.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets and nodded toward Grant. Exhaustion mixed with frustration. Soon rage would consume the rest of him. “We’re missing something.”
“When you figure that out, let me know, partner. Come on.”
They walked into the dimly lit corner venue and pushed through the crowd toward the bar. This was their usual hangout, a joint frequented by cops and members of the local fire department. He acknowledged several off duty officers as they passed.
“What it be, guys?” The bartender grinned as he leaned over the bar.
“Hey, Joe. Two draft Budweisers,” Grant answered. “Any activity today?”
“Nothing to write home to mama about,” Joe answered. He shot a look around him before placing both hands on the bar. “I’m hearing this serial killer case is in nowhere land.”
