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Crouching down, he crept silently toward the sound, trying to be invisible. He came to the last stall in the barn and the source of the sounds.
Dottie was tied to a chair and a man was standing, holding Patrice’s bridle, a knife to her throat. “Tell me the information I want, Ms. Chapman, and I will let you and the horse live, otherwise I’m afraid I may have to do something unpleasant,” the man said in a calm, cultured voice as he brandished the knife and looked at Dottie in a hostile manner.
Dottie visibly shuddered and again pleaded. “I told you I don’t know. What do you want of me?”
Assessing the situation, Derek weighed his options. He could follow procedure and wait for back-up, risking not only Patrice, but Dottie also. Not an option. All he could think was that he had to get to her and damned the consequences. Listening for a few long moments to make sure there was only one assailant, he formulated his plan.
Moving with a stealth and speed in spite of his size, he waited until Dottie’s attacker had his back to him and made his attack. Dottie screamed his name as she saw him approach and smartly flipped her chair to the side when the man lunged for her with the knife.
In the chaos that happened next, Dottie wasn’t sure how, but Derek had the man on the ground, he was now in possession of the knife and was sitting on the man’s chest. A quick punch to the man’s face and he was out cold. Derek quickly tied him up and then went to free Dottie.
By now they could hear sirens approaching and shouts coming from outside. Leaving the man tied on the floor, Derek wrapped an arm around Dottie and walked her out of the barn and into the fray of FBI, police, and rescue personnel.
Chapter Eleven
Dottie woke the next day crushed to Derek’s side in his bed. She couldn’t believe all that had happened. Parts of it were like a nightmare, and other parts a dream. In the matter of a few hours, she and Derek had played in the club, he had told her he was in love with her, her condo had been broken into, and she had been attacked. She was amazed she had been able to sleep, but after everyone had cleared out, she had fallen into bed with Derek and slept the sleep of the dead. She didn’t even remember dreaming. What time was it?
Derek had made her call off work for the rest of the week, not wanting her out of his sight for a few days. Looking at the clock it was early, very early and they had not gotten to bed until very late. She had only slept a couple hours. Derek was still out. Snuggling closer to him, she went back to sleep.
* * * *
The week had been quiet and they spent it riding and getting to know each other. They had played in the playroom and Derek was introducing her to more BDSM every time, and she was learning more about being his submissive in and out of the playroom.
Thursday night, they had had an intense session in the playroom and Dottie had fallen into an exhausted sleep before Derek had her out of the tub. She didn’t remember him carrying her to bed, but when she woke he was wrapped around her and they were in his bed.
She lay there going over everything in her mind that had happened in the past few days, when she heard her cell phone ringing. Struggling to free herself, she padded naked to the kitchen where she had left her purse. Finding the phone which had stopped ringing by now, she saw it was her office that had called.
Deciding to make coffee before she made her phone call, she went back to Derek’s room to get one of his shirts. He was still sleeping.
Dottie went back to the kitchen and started the coffee before checking her messages. There were several, all from her boss. The first few were fairly tame, just acknowledging her need for the rest of the week off and a request to call. As the messages went on, the requests became demands and her boss, Matt, sounded more and more frantic.
By the time she got to the final message, he was screaming and yelling. Dottie quickly dialed his direct line.
Matt answered even more frantic. “Thank God! Dottie, I heard everything that had happened and we were all worried. I also have more bad news.”
“Oh God, Matt, I don’t think I can take any more,” Dottie said sitting down. What the hell was going on?
Matt quickly informed her that the office had been ransacked and the chaos was centered mostly around her and her partner Terrance Mason’s desk. Like her apartment, the damage was so destructive that they couldn’t tell if anything was missing or not. Dottie promised to be in as soon as she could and sat at the table, her face in hands, which is how Derek found her several minutes later.
“What’s up, baby?” he asked.
Dottie quickly told him about the phone call she had received and that she needed to get to the office. “Will you go with me? I don’t want to do this alone and have to face all those stares by myself.”
Derek agreed and they dressed to go, planning on eating on the way.
Chapter Twelve
When they got to Dottie’s office, the place was still in a state of chaos. Along with all the usual workers, there were police, FBI, and Derek’s Secret Service team there. Most of the FBI were people from the group Derek was working with, but the cops were also there.
Between Dottie and Derek, they knew almost every one there except for one person, James Preston. He was new to the police force, having transferred into his position. He was an arrogant asshole.
“Where were you last night, Ms. Chapman?” he asked arrogantly, pulling her arm to pull her away from Derek. He was short and fat, shorter than Dottie by a few inches and over a foot shorter than Derek.
Dottie resisted his pulling and Derek wrapped an arm around her. “She was with me at my house for the last several days, Officer Preston.” Derek answered just as arrogantly. It was on!
“And you would be… Sir?” Preston asked, looking up at Derek.
“Special Officer Derek Moore, Secret Service protection division. Ms. Chapman is under the protection of myself and my team, and I or a member of my team have been with her every hour of every day. Does that answer your question?” The man didn’t need to know details of Dottie’s protection services.
