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"Yeah, baby, it pissed you off, didn't it?" Regina spoke softly inside the silence of her darkened car. "You don't like being handled. Or depending on someone else for the things you want. Yet you want to be a sub. It's like an oil coating all those fine muscles, head to toe, inside and out. Can't figure it out, can you? And the longer it's gone on, the meaner it's made you. You're just about on the ruined side of it. Are you worth bringing back?"
If she was being honest with herself--and she always was--becoming involved in this decision was secondary to her interest in the man and seeing where that would take her. The rest would resolve itself. She didn't stress over his fate at The Zone. She was a fair, even-handed Domme, mindful of the right frame of mind needed to deserve the privilege of playing at a place like it. He'd either work that shit out with her enough to prove he belonged there, or not.
She settled into her seat, pushing it back to give her more relaxed leg room. Her Mercedes was as old as Marius's Civic, but in far better exterior condition. She'd bought it after she'd graduated Georgia Tech with honors and landed her first engineering job with a salary that allowed the indulgence. She'd lovingly cared for it ever since. No reason to get rid of something that had served her so well for so long, and was still doing the job.
There he is. She remained motionless as he emerged from the club. He might know where her car was, but at nighttime, she shouldn't be noticed. Though if he saw her, she'd use whatever openings that turn of events gave her. She wasn't hiding.
She had no problem taking the opportunity to observe him when he didn't think he was on anyone's radar, however. He was dressed in jeans and a dark blue T-shirt that etched out his upper torso damn well. Jeans did a good job of it, too, defining an ass as tight with tension as the rest of him. When he threw his gym bag in the back and put himself into the front seat, the car rocked from the door slam.
Still angry, though he also seemed deep in his head. He was staring through the windshield. His hands appeared on the top of the steering wheel. From the flex of his shoulders, he was gripping it as tightly as he could, fighting whatever was going on within him. He pressed his head back against the seat. Tattoo beat, one, two, three.
The grip on the wheel showed external anger. Who to blame. Tyler, her, Alex, Siren. But the head beating thing, she believed that was self-frustration. Loss of control. Deep inside, he must have known taking it so far would have bad consequences, especially after three warnings. But that was how a self-destructive personality worked. They just couldn't help themselves.
She'd been developing a theory since she'd felt that energy vibrating off him when she lowered his chains. She believed he hadn't intended to go as far as he had with Siren. If he was truly as detached as he tried to appear, he could have called himself back. But maybe the true submissive's need under all the shit had pushed him forward, convincing him he could get there, could get where a Mistress wanted him to go.
Then that other side of him took over again, blew it all up and caught everyone, including himself, in the shrapnel. Another sub would have come out of such an experience dazed, craving a nurturing form of aftercare. He'd come out angry, closed and defensive, unwilling to accept good or bad shit from anyone.
He was not going to be an easy project.
"You better be ready to see this one through, Regina," she advised herself. "You go at this half-assed, he'll cut you to ribbons. He might do it anyway, but if you're all the way in, you'll have your hand on the same knife."
Regina jumped when he erupted into motion. Marius hit the wheel with a closed fist, surprising her with the vehemence. One sharp blow, two. Then he rummaged in the glove compartment and produced what looked like a cheap flip phone. After dialing, he spoke to whoever answered in short terse sentences. A nod, and he tossed the phone on the seat before turning over the engine.
When he put the car in drive, his set countenance suggested he had a destination in mind.
Well, she had a free evening, didn't she? She'd see where he went to blow off steam.
As she navigated through traffic, she didn't have trouble keeping him in sight. He drove decently close to the speed limit and he didn't drive like an angry man. After he'd made the phone call, he'd settled. Or maybe he'd channeled his aggression toward a different target.
Since The Zone had to accept the same zoning restrictions as much seedier adult businesses, it was on the fringes of the less desirable side of Tampa. Marius was headed deeper into that area. After a few miles, she followed him down a narrow, dark street that in crime shows would have had men huddled over oil drums of burning trash, the flames and their figures throwing eerie shadows up against the brick. Well, if it wasn't a balmy Florida night.
Regardless of her dramatic imaginings, only homeless people or those with criminal intent would be wandering this area without purpose. Marius took a right and disappeared down another alley. She waited a moment and then followed, making sure her doors were locked. If there was nothing down here but darkness, she was prepared to reverse and end her sleuthing days before they began. She had no desire to be carjacked.
The alley dead-ended at a boarded-up, abandoned warehouse, a backdrop that would have confirmed her concerns, except for the type of vehicles in the parking lot. Whereas the asphalt was so cracked it might as well be gravel, a variety of shiny, expensive cars mixed with upscale SUVs were parked upon it. Directly in front of Regina, a man circled the front of a red Ferrari to hand out a woman from the passenger side. She wore a white sparkling dress that barely passed legal in either direction. Her blond hair was as white as the dress, except for a vivid blue streak down the right side that matched the sapphires on her neck and ears.
Marius had pulled past all the flashy vehicles, and been waved into a roped-off area on the side of the building where more modest cars were parked. He exited his and entered the building through that side door. As Regina pulled into the lot, intending to follow him, she was intercepted by a ponderously built man approaching her car. He was dressed in an impressively well-cut suit and looked enough like a security detail to give her confidence he didn't have murder on his mind when he gestured to her to lower her window.
Yet since his responsibilities could include protecting a drug lord, she put her hand on the Glock she kept tucked into the cushioned pocket between seat and console. Better safe than sorry.
He leaned forward and gave her a thorough appraisal that would have been rude if it didn't appear more functional than appreciative of the view, though he managed to work in the latter in an inoffensive way. "Hot lady looking for a hookup with the fight talent?"
Fight talent. She thought of the fading bruises on Marius's body, the abrasions on his knuckles. Covering her sinking feeling, she raised a brow. "Is that what I look like?"
He gave her an easy grin. "No man in the car, and nothing about you says show pony. You looking for a show stud if you're here. Or got some serious money riding on the action."
From the steady look in his brown eyes, she expected her answer was going to get her in or kicked out. She chose honesty. "I'm not betting on anyone. I followed a guy I want here. Though I do think he's one of the fighters."
He hadn't gotten in the door by placing big money bets with bookies, like she expected the people in fancy clothes and stepping out of their Ferraris and Porsches had. His entrance fee was paid by his fists. And blood. She took a breath.
"In fact, I'm pretty damn sure of it."
Chapter Three
The man gave her another close look, then shrugged. "Boss says sexy women are always welcome at our fights, even if they don't have anything riding on the action. Park over there." He pointed. "Entrance and exit are where you see the people going in. You'll be searched for recording devices and wires and you have to check your phone, so if you don't want anyone handling that, leave it in the car. First fight's already started, so you're going to have to work to get a good seat. Tell them Freddie said to take care of you and you'll be able to see."
"Appreciate it."
"My pleasure."
