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“I know I should have said something to you.”
“Yes! You waited all week to tell me, Miss Emme? Now I’m glad I used Simon for target practice. Why? Why didn’t you say something?”
I shrugged. “I didn’t want you to go to the cops. I was afraid you might.” I gave her an apologetic look. “You won’t, will you?”
Hunched over the table and frowning, Charity dragged her daiquiri closer then took a sip. I gave her time. I was in no hurry.
“I guess not. If you don’t want me to?”
I shook my head and took an automatic gulp of the pina colada. “Am I crazy?”
“We both are. Who is this criminal? I’m wondering if you can get Stockholm Syndrome in a week.”
“It was only two days,” I said quietly.
“Huh. Also fuck that Simon. He told me he thought it was too risky. If he had turned up… Did Simon’s texts to you get lost?”
“The man who took me said he had my phone in a bag that blocked signals.” I decided to omit telling her he had all my contacts, my pics, probably everything on there.
“Why tell me, if don’t you want cops involved?” She reached and took my hand in hers, squeezed.
My heart thudded louder then settled.
All the whys. “I needed to. Not to vent or gossip.” I stared past her at nothing. “Not the cops. I…” This was stupid. “Because I like him.”
“Fuck, Emme! Just fuck.”
I couldn’t help smirking. “Definitely lots of those.”
She laughed then cut it off and studied me closely. “Really? That good?”
“That fucking good. I’m conflicted. I admit he is dangerous, but he let me go. Since then, he has told me he didn’t want me to die.” Wow, that came out awful. I tried not to look too sheepish.
“That’s a plus,” she muttered. “So he did all that to you and you seriously want more? Why did he release you and what makes you think this relationship—let’s call it that—has a future?”
She poked her cocktail umbrella at the daiquiri and ice.
“Well. I saw him again, yesterday.” I couldn’t help my voice going a bit dreamy. “He towed me under a tree at the park—” I braked due to the dead silence from Charity. “And that’s when he said he didn’t want to kill me. Twice, actually.”
“On most dates, sane humans go with I love you, not ‘I don’t want to kill you’.”
I grinned. “He’s texted me. Given me a command.”
“A Dom then, of sorts. Bad sorts. Illegal sorts. If you think he’s dangerous, might he do worse? Also, what if he finds out you told me? I mean, I saw him at the café, and the CCTV footage in that area might have caught him or his vehicle.”
I listened, wondering if any of this was a problem. I’d been all about the me, hadn’t thought I might be endangering her.
Mr. Scott, though, I was sure he wasn’t dangerous to Charity. He had backtracked fast at the CNC party. Axl, on the other hand, I was less sure of. Would I be scaring Charity unnecessarily if I said she might be in danger?
I shook my head. “He wants to do this legally now. Consensually.” I was bending the definition. “Really. I am sorry this worries you. I just had to tell someone, and you’re my only kinky friend. I trust you not to blab.”
She sighed and leaned back, drink in hand.
“Honey, I won’t blab. I am just concerned about where this is going.”
Me, too.
“However, think about making like a vault of info, then give it to me? Detail everything that happened, descriptions of them and their houses. All the stuff they did. Just in case.”
I chewed my lip. Should I do that? It would feel like I was betraying Mr. Scott.
“Are you in love with this guy?”
That had come out of the blue, and my face heated as I blushed hard.
“No.” I frowned, turned my glass around and around in my hand then put it on the table. “No. of course I’m not in love. In lust, yes.”
“That’s how they all begin, though, Emme.” Her smile was rueful. “Try to be careful. And please, before you do anything else, maybe tell me? If you vanish, I can spill my guts, but I would rather not reveal all this to the cops, and then discover you were off being made to scream in fluent orgasm in your fancy Dom’s villa, all voluntary like.”
“Hmm. Okay.” Voluntary, though? That word gave me hives.
