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“I will stay here, Daddy,” he said, landing a lash across her sit spot. She went up on her tiptoes and cried out in pain. He waited a second for her to catch her breath. “I’m waiting, Little Rabbit.”
“I’ll stay here, Daddy!”
“I’ll do what my Daddy orders,” he told her, bringing the belt down two more times against the fullest part of her butt.
“Are you going to stay here and do what you are told, Little Rabbit?” He swung the belt, covering her upper thighs. A glowing pink remained in its wake. He wasn’t hitting her hard enough to break the skin, or to even leave her sore for days, just an appetizer of things to come if she broke his rules.
“Yes, Daddy.”
He dropped the belt to the floor and turned her around and into his arms. “I would die if anything happened to you. You are my entire world. You’ve been living rent free in my brain since the day we met at The Citadel. I’ve obsessed over you, knowingyou would be mine. It took me damn near sixty years to find a woman who spoke to my soul the way you do. I can’t lose you.”
“I’m sorry, Daddy.”
“I know, sweetheart. Like I said, I get it. I get why you’d want to come. Instead, while the men and I go out to find and talk with Rake, why don’t you have a playdate at my house and show off your new playroom?”
“I—Can I? Can I really, Daddy?” She was bouncing up and down.
“Of course, Little Rabbit. I bet you Delilah, Mia and Veronica would love to come over and play. I can arrange for their Daddies to come and keep you safe.”
“But—they’ll leave us alone to play, right?”
Lucky bit back a laugh. “Of course. They can hang out in the living room if you don’t want them to play with you.”
“Nope. No Daddies allowed.”
“I’ll arrange it. Go ahead and get yourself together. I’m going to return downstairs.”
Once back downstairs, Lucky motioned over to Mad Dog. “Text Tank, Mitch, and Bull. Let them know what’s going on and ask them if they’ll have a playdate tomorrow at my house. It’ll distract Trinity and I’ll feel better knowing she has operators with her.”
“Consider it done,” he said.
“Thanks, brother.” Lucky walked over to where several of them were bent over laptops. The glow of monitors cast a spectral hue on their rugged faces, their gazes locked in concentration. Fingers danced over keyboards with theprecision of seasoned warriors wielding unseen blades, each keystroke hoping to be the one to locate Rake.
“Got something,” Irish growled, his eyes narrowing as lines of code scrolled across his screen. “Looks like our boy has been chattin' up the Pedro Rejects.”
“Let me see,” Lucky commanded. He leaned in, squinting at the encrypted messages that had been skillfully unearthed. Transactions, veiled threats, and allegiances before him. It appeared that Rake was trying to move in and cut out Hell Speed, offering to work directly with them. As he read the messages, there was something not sitting right with Lucky. Something was missing.
“Crafty bastard,” Kylie murmured, her lips curling into a feline smile. “I can’t believe this.”
“Time to turn up the heat,” Lucky said. “Slash, text him. Let him know we want to talk. Arrange a meet. Meanwhile, Kylie and I are going to head out and see if we can’t get some information from a friend of his nearby.”
Less than an hour later, Kylie and Lucky found themselves outside a dive bar that reeked of spilled beer and broken dreams. It was here that they hoped to pry loose the tongues of Rake's former cohorts, perhaps get a local location where he was hiding out.
“Remember,” Lucky whispered against Kylie's ear, “charm 'em first. Fear comes later.” She nodded, a conspiratorial gleam lighting her eyes. They entered, the door creaking behind them like an omen. The pair moved through the crowd, a striking contrast to the seediness around them. Lucky's intimidating frame cleared a path, while Kylie's fluid grace left whispers in her wake.
“Tommy,” Lucky spoke, his voice commanding attention from a wiry man nursing a bottom-shelf whiskey.
“Shit, Lucky! Ain't seen you in a dog's age,” Tommy replied, a nervous twitch betraying his bravado.
“Been busy. You know how it is,” Lucky drawled, sliding onto a stool. Kylie perched next to him, her legs crossing in a choreographed display of casual seduction.
“Busy's one word for it.” Tommy chuckled, attempting nonchalance. His gaze flicked to Kylie, appreciation and fear mingling in his eyes.
“Word has it you are friends with a man we are looking for. A former member of Hell Speed," Kylie said, her voice honey-velvet, disarming. "You hear from Rake lately?"
Tommy's Adam's apple bobbed, caught in the crossfire of desire and dread. “Rake’s Rake, y'know? Always lookin' for the next big gig. Anywhere he can score a few bucks.”
“When was the last time you saw him?” Lucky cut straight to the chase. “Where is he staying?”
