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They interlinked their arms and walked toward the entrance. It may be cold and drizzly outside, but the fresh air would do them good, and the agents knew where to find them when more questions inevitably came.
Vanessa stood at the top of the front steps. Before her, a sea of vans, cars, and buses attempted to contain the chaos erupting at Candace’s San Francisco manor. The local police were brought in to assist with processing victims as more were discovered in the attic and the furthest recesses of the basement. When she made eye contact with Det. Moran, whom she hadn’t seen in weeks, he curtly nodded at Vanessa and Mitch as if that were enough to apologize for all law enforcement had put them through.
“Van,” Mitch whispered, “I would love to go home.”
Instead, they stood there on the steps, allowing the soft rain to wash away their sins.
Chapter 27
Theytookturnssleepingin the room where they were held for questioning, and they weren’t allowed to leave until their statements lined up with what the FBI already knew about Mitch’s part of the investigation… and Vanessa’s. Because it was no coincidence that Stella had been waiting at the manor when Candace and Mitch returned from Hawaii. The whole thing had been orchestrated the moment Vanessa demanded the entirety of the FBI office to tell her what the hell was going on with her wife.
Mitch was the one who told everyone that she and Vanessa had already been married for two years, and it was the perfect way – if not the only way – to lure Candace into complacency. From the moment Mitch arrived at the manor with the intent of seducing Candace, she had planned for it to lead toward marriage. Candace had dropped enough hints over the past two months that she wasn’t interested in a woman she wouldn’t immediately marry. Mitch had projected the image of someone who would doanythingher Mistress commanded. Even marrying her on the spot.
It had still been a Hail Mary, but Mitch knew that marrying Candace might get the woman to open up about the business if she thought spousal privilege was on the table.
It wasn’t. It never had been, and Mitch was cleared of bigamy charges since she did it with the FBI’s knowledge. Besides, even if she hadn’t, Mitch and Vanessa’s lawyer argued there was a great case for doing it under duress.
The busiest lawyers in town are Candace’s and mine.As soon as he heard, Vanessa’s lawyer arrived at the FBI office, demanding that he speak with his clients before allowing any more interviews. He told the couple what to cooperate with and what not to say, which Mitch appreciated since she was physically – and mentally – fading long after the adrenaline crashed.
She was given a cot to sleep on while Vanessa went over the events of her fight with Candace again. Even though Mitch had been given sweatpants and a T-shirt to rest in, she somehow felt more exposed than she ever did in a nightclub with nothing but fetish wear.These people are judging me.Maybe they were professional enough to keep it to themselves, but more than one agent had whispered something to another before they blushed and laughed.
Mitch’s character was always on trial wherever she went, but now it was personal. It was about her marriage.
A concept she rarely thought about, anyway.
When she awoke after three hours of broken sleep, Vanessa was resting in a private conference room. She offered Mitch some coffee when she entered, rubbing her eyes. They sat in silence while sipping caffeine and looking at the clock. It was nearly three in the morning.
Finally, an agent announced they could go home, but they were not to leave town until told otherwise.This is only the beginning, isn’t it?There would be more interviews. More evidence to gather. More judgments and more attacks on their character, even if they managed to keep their involvement in the undercover investigation away from Candace’s knowledge. As far as she knew, Vanessa and Mitch were merely caught up in the craziness of it all, and Mitch hoped to keep it that way.
Luke met them in the lobby of the FBI office. With relief stricken on his face, he ushered them into the SUV and drove them home, where he made a fuss about them going off to take care of something without his knowledge. Vanessa went upstairs, but Mitch stayed in the kitchen with a glass of water to indulge him while he got it out of his system. Eventually, he hugged Mitch, begging her to not do “some crazy shit like that” again. He didn’t even have the details. All Luke knew was that Mitch was great at getting herself into trouble.
When he pushed himself to bed in his separate guest house, Mitch trudged upstairs, where the morning hour urged her to crash into bed with Vanessa wrapped around her.
But she couldn’t. As soon as she entered the room and saw Vanessa changing her clothes, taking tender care of her ribs with a wince, Mitch broke.
She wouldn’t let her wife see it, though. Better to rip off her borrowed clothes, close herself up in the shower, and steam up the doors before sliding down to the floor and sobbing with her face in her lap.
Candace. Vanessa. Exhaustion. Performance. Fatigue.Candace.
Mitch had been “on” for more than a day before, but that had always been different. That was forfun.For pleasure. For strengthening her relationship with Vanessa, who was never too far away and always ready to pull the plug if she sensed something was off with her pet.Her pet.Mitch attempted to keep her spigot off, but she couldn’t stop crying. Salty tears rushed down her face while shower water pummeled her legs. For an hour, she had been cooped up in the cage beneath the coffee table, pretending that Vanessa’s presence hadn’t bothered her.
Until Candace put a hand on her.
I couldn’t protect her. I could have watched her die right before my eyes, all because I didn’t tell her my plan.Because she worried Vanessa wouldn’t let her. Because Vanessa wasn’t possessive until someone dared to question the threads weaving her with Mitch.
Mitch had never felt so alone with someone so close by.
The shower door inched to the side. Vanessa stood on the other side in nothing but her sleeping shirt. Her makeup was washed off and her greasy, curly hair in a low ponytail. Yet she had never been so beautiful – quite frankly, too beautiful to see Mitch like this.
Without a word, Vanessa pulled her shirt over her head and left it on the bathroom floor as she stepped into the shower. She lowered herself to Mitch’s level, albeit leaning against the wall farthest from the showerhead. Not a single drop touched her flawless skin. Mitch was the bedraggled kitten attempting to hide her misery.
When it was apparent that Vanessa’s mere presence wasn’t enough to soothe her pet, she crawled forward, brushing her knuckles against a hot and teary cheek.
She didn’t need an invitation to gently invade Mitch’s space. Mitch would have been disappointed if her Mistress didn’t attempt to lay claim on her again so soon.
“My dear…” Vanessa’s soft voice was what officially sent Mitch into a spiral that resulted in her throwing herself against her Mistress’s chest. “It’s okay. Let it out.”
It took Mitch an embarrassing length of time to realize why she couldn’t breathe, why her hormones were crashing, and why her whole world melted before her blinded eyes.Fuck, no, no, not now. Can we sleep first?Yet Vanessa was there, caressing her with the tenderest touch and talking Mitch through the height of the worst subdrop she experienced in years.
