Capturing Callie (6 page)

There wasn’t much in her life she regretted more than not pressing charges against the two boys who had raped her that night. Of course, with their parents’ money and influence nothing would have become of it, but she still regretted being such a coward. She’d let her mother convince her that silence was in her best interest. Somehow her social-climbing mother had turned the whole thing around until she was the victim and Callie was the selfish wench who had ruined everything for
her
.

Sometimes late at night she could still feel their hands groping her and tearing at her clothes. Their bodies, slick with the sweat of a hot summer’s night, moving over her. The stench of stale beer on their breath as they’d forced their tongues in her mouth. The oppressive weight of them atop her as they forced themselves on her had been crushing. The bruises had faded within the week, but the emotional damage had been far deeper. And she had recently seen some very real progress in her war against those demons.

Callie hadn’t even realized she was squeezing her hands closed until she felt the wineglass in her hand shatter, slicing into her palm. Ian had grabbed her wrist and was quickly pulling shards of glass from her bleeding hand while Jace had quickly started cleaning up the mess she’d made.

“Jesus Christ, Callie, didn’t you just get your ass paddled for not taking care of yourself?
Carlin
, this is not the way to avoid another spanking. Come on. Up you go.” Callie was registering the words, but they sounded so far away. She had been so lost in the memory she didn’t realize Ian had scooped her up into his arms and headed down a long hallway until she heard him call over his shoulder to Jace to meet them in his bathroom with a med-kit. When she heard him say, “Make sure you have a magnifying glass and sutures,” her head started spinning and she just laid her face against his chest and tried to concentrate on his heartbeat.

“Roger that,” was the big man’s only reply, and she heard his rapidly fading footsteps as he made his way down the hall in the opposite direction.

* * * *

Ian didn’t have any idea what had happened to Callie, but it had to have been extremely traumatic to have caused what could only be termed a post-traumatic stress disorder episode. Ian had seen similar things happen to subs before, but usually there had been some kind of physical trigger. He’d never seen someone who appeared to be processing a request zone out so completely that they didn’t respond to any verbal commands. He’d seen her gripping the glass with such strength he’d started shouting at her to release it before it shattered, but he hadn’t been able to reach through whatever memory she’d been lost in. She hadn’t opened her hand until the shards of glass had cut gashes into her delicate skin.

When Jace entered the bathroom with his med-kit, they set about removing each sliver of glass and washed the wounds thoroughly. Ian knew it had to have hurt, but Callie sat completely stock-still, never reacting to the pain in any way. Ian was starting to worry that they would have to call in professional help to get her to reengage when Jace spoke to him quietly. “I’ve got her. Why don’t you go call Mitch Grayson? His gifts and experience with PTSD might provide some insight. Also, the man has access to information that God himself doesn’t have the security clearance for—ask for his help.”

Ian was reluctant to leave her, but knew they needed some outside help, and they damned well needed the name of whoever hurt her. Leaning forward, he brushed his lips over her forehead and whispered, “I’ll be right back, pet. Let Master Jace take care of you. Be a good girl, now.”

She seemed to have heard him and met his gaze. Her eyes filled with unshed tears and she whispered, “I’m sorry.” His heart nearly melted, and suddenly he wondered if he hadn’t been wrong all these years. Maybe—just maybe he was capable of loving someone.

* * * *

Mitch Grayson had been a huge help and had promised to start looking into Callie’s background immediately. Mitch had given him a brief rundown of possible triggers and explained how the men at ShadowDance had handled similar situations with their women. Ian had been grateful when Mitch let him speak with his wife, Rissa, because she had experienced enough trauma of her own to be a great source of information.

Before they’d ended their call, Mitch had promised to get back to Ian by tomorrow with the information and also suggested Ian make sure Callie was available so he could talk with her via video-cam. Ian remembered that Mitch’s gifts as an empath were greatly enhanced if he could actually see and talk with the person he was reading. Mitch’s ability to “hear” and often feel the emotions and thoughts of other people gave him unique opportunities to help people who had experiences they needed help resolving. It had also been an enormous asset to his SEAL team when they’d interviewed prisoners and victims alike.

They set up the call for 5:00 p.m. the next afternoon to ensure Mitch had plenty of time to gather information. Just before they signed off, Rissa asked to have the phone back, and Mitch had reluctantly agreed, and Ian had suppressed his laughter when he’d heard the very pregnant woman explain that talking on the phone was not a “taxing” physical activity.

“Ian, I just want to know if you are really interested in this woman? Because if you aren’t, let someone else help her. It sounds like she has already had her trust violated in a big way, and well…adding a broken heart to her problems…that would just be mean…um, Sir.” Ian laughed out loud at her words. It was easy to see why Mitch and Bryant had fallen in love with her. He thanked her for her words of wisdom and for looking out for Callie despite the fact they’d never met. It had been humbling when she’d quietly added, “Well, you know, I’ve been there and I know how hard it is…and I’d like to help someone else like Kat and Jenna helped me.”

By the time he returned to the bathroom, Jace had sutured two of the deepest lacerations and gotten Callie changed into a clean shirt. Jace told him that he’d used topical anesthetic on her hand but didn’t want to give her anything orally until she’d eaten. “Callie, tell Master Ian when you last ate.” Jace was in Dom-mode, so Ian already knew he wasn’t going to like the answer.

“Um…well, I didn’t exactly say when, Master Jace.” Her eyes darted between the two of them, and Ian felt his muscles tense. “What I said was that I didn’t remember. That’s not as bad…not really, because it could mean I just have a poor memory.” Ian took a couple of deep breaths and counted to ten—twice. This was a real hot-point for him, and Jace knew it. When he crossed his arms over his chest and raised a brow, she quickly looked at the floor. “Okay, okay, don’t have a stroke. I ate a package of ramen noodles for lunch yesterday. It’s not payday yet and I…well, I’m out of money, okay?”

Ian was seeing red—literally. He wanted to put his fist through the wall because she was living in a hole-in-the wall apartment, in one of the worst neighborhoods in the city, with no heat or hot water, and she was not eating because she couldn’t afford it while her sister was happily accepting help she didn’t need. He wasn’t prepared to tell Callie everything he knew about her “sister dearest” just yet, so he was going to have to temper his response.

“Come along, pet. We’re going to get some decent food in you so you can take some pain medication, which you are no doubt going to need very soon. Then I’m going to start a tally of all the swats you have coming as soon as you are feeling a bit more settled.” When he saw her apprehension, he gave her a mock glare before looking at Jace and asking, “Do we have any poster board? Perhaps some of that butcher’s paper that comes on a long roll? I have a feeling I’m going to need a large piece of paper for this tally.” Her giggle was probably the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard, and he was glad his words had hit their mark and lightened the mood a bit.

Callie had been relieved when Ian and Jace had backed away from their previously
intense
moods. Ian had seemed to relax more and more with each bite she’d eaten, and truthfully, she’d eaten more than she’d wanted just because it had seemed to make him so happy. They had denied her any more wine, citing the medication they intended to give her, but she knew they were worried she’d have another meltdown as well.
Jesus, Joseph, and Mary, I know better than to drink. It always sends me ass over teakettle. I’m going to have to keep my wits about me if I’m going to get this story and survive this next month with my heart intact.

As soon as she had eaten, Jace stepped forward and handed her a small glass of juice and a couple of painkillers, and she didn’t hesitate to down them both because her hand was really starting to throb. It was only after she’d swallowed the pills that she’d noticed both men facing her with stern expressions. “What?”

Jace surprised her by pulling her roughly to her feet and then giving her a sharp slap on the ass. “Watch your tone, sweetness. You are already racking up more punishment points than you can pay off comfortably in a month. Personally I think Master Ian should renegotiate and keep you until you are even up—hell, he’d get to keep you forever. Now, why on earth would you take two pills from a man you barely know without so much as even inquiring as to what they contained?”

Callie was surprised by his suddenly stern demeanor and stuttered her answer. “Well, I mean, you said you were going to give me a painkiller, right? That’s what I took, right? That was like Tylenol or something, wasn’t it? Oh, fuck me, please tell…Hey! What was that for?”

Jace was grateful Ian stood back and let him play this one out with her. If he was going to have any real credibility with Callie as a Dom, he needed to start establishing that position of power now. Otherwise, she would always see him as a friend, even though he was actually the stricter of the two of them. If she wanted gentle and sweet, she’d trespassed on the wrong island. “You language is deplorable, sweetness. Clean it up or suffer the consequences. Now, you can, in fact, always trust what you take from our hands, but you had damned well always ask about what you are being given, even from us. It’s called
informed consent
, and it’s one of the tenets of BDSM that we live by.”

What he hadn’t told her was that his younger sister had always been deathly allergic to penicillin, and on a ranch that was something that had to be watched closely. Hell, she’d almost died as a young teen when she’d helped treat sick calves and inadvertently gotten some of the vaccine on her bare skin. Jace had just happened to see her staggering across the yard before she collapsed or they would have never gotten her to the hospital in time. And you could damned well bet nobody gave Abby Garrett any medicine without her knowing exactly what you were holding out to her.

“Oh, well, I guess you do have a valid point. I can see where that wasn’t very smart on my part.”
And why on earth I seem to instinctively trust you I have no idea, because I haven’t trusted any man for many years.

Jace watched as the emotions played out over her face, and when she finally settled, he saw Ian’s slight nod, so he knew it was time to begin. They had wanted the Tylenol to kick in but not so much that her judgment was impaired before they began again. Looking down into her elfin face, he crossed his arms over his chest and said, “Strip, sweetness.”

He saw her sharp intake of breath and then saw her eyes flicker briefly to Ian as if seeking his approval.
Oh, you do understand exactly who you belong to, don’t you, angel. He already owns your body—he just has to get your heart on board. But I know something neither of you knows, you already own him as well.
When she hadn’t removed the shirt quickly enough, Jace stepped forward and ripped open the garment he’d dressed her in not an hour earlier. “Holy shit…zus. You ripped Mr. McGregor’s shirt. I’m not paying for that, you know. That was probably an expensive shirt…I can’t buy expensive stuff that is good, let alone something that’s ripped. Good grief, Gerty!”

Smack
, Jace brought his hand down on her other ass cheek with a resounding crack. “Stop talking. And adding to the end of shit to make us think you’re talking about puppies isn’t going to cut it, sweetness. That’s another mark on the tally.” Turning to Ian he chuckled. “You were right about needing a long sheet of paper. Hell, we may have to devise a spanking bench/porta potty, she’s gonna be on the things so damned long.”

“Indeed she is, but I have to say, I do like hearing the sound of our hands coming down on her beautiful ass. And once we get her eating like she should, that lovely derrière is going to be a nice couple of handfuls. Now, present her to me.”

Jace pulled the tattered garment from her body and tossed it aside before turning her so that she was facing Ian. He showed her how to kneel properly with her knees spread wide apart, her hands clasped behind her back, and her gaze lowered to the floor. “This will be the position you will take the most often, so it needs to be the first one you practice and become familiar with so that it is natural and comfortable for you. Now, when your Master tells you to kneel, this will be your position, understand? You’ll be learning more as we go along.” Then he stepped back so that he and Ian were shoulder to shoulder. Jace knew they were imposing when they both stood with their feet shoulder width apart and their arms crossed over bare chests, and it was always a good way to begin a scene—it put subs in the right frame of mind very quickly. But when Ian ordered Callie to look at them, Jace was surprised to see nothing but desire in her eyes. Ian had found himself a real gem—now if he didn’t let his fucked-up past ruin it.