Master (An Impossible Novel) (Impossible #6) (10 page)

We had asked about ex-boyfriends, enemies, or any new acquaintances around the time Sally went missing.  The worst part was pressing for information about her sex life.  We needed to know if she had been involved in BDSM, but her father had become enraged by my questions, asking if we thought his daughter deserved what happened to her.  Reed managed to calm him down, but we left shortly thereafter.

And we hadn’t discovered anything new.  I had put the Johnsons through hell all over again, and for nothing.  I felt like crap.  More and more often lately, I found myself longing for the life I had dreamed of when I was younger.

I should have gone to vet school.

“I’ll walk you up,” Reed told me.  I blinked and realized that we had pulled up outside my apartment.

“Okay,” I agreed before I could process that it probably wasn’t a good idea.  I had kissed him in my apartment just that morning.  Being alone with Reed in a private space was inadvisable.  But sexual arousal was the last thing on my mind in that moment, so I deemed it safe.  It was only logical that I allow him to see me to my door.  I still had a stalker who might be watching me even now.

Claude Parnell. 
I had almost forgotten about him.  My weariness sank deeper, and my legs turned leaden as I walked into my building.  Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Reed shooting me worried glances, and twice his hand twitched as though to reach out for me.  I was relieved that he didn’t.  I knew I would crumble if he did.  I was too tired, too vulnerable.  Throwing myself into his arms would have been a sweet relief.  It was a relief I couldn’t allow myself to indulge in.  Reed was my coworker, and while starting a relationship wasn’t technically against the rules, it was frowned upon.  Frank would do more than frown.  He would scowl.  And probably find a way to boot Reed out of Chicago.

My brooding ceased when I realized we were standing at the door to my apartment, Reed watching me expectantly.  I gave my head a little shake and dug my keys out of my pocket.  I inserted them in the lock,
then paused as a thought occurred to me.

“You’re going to stay outside again, aren’t you?”  I knew Reed’s answer before he spoke.

“Yep.”  His easy expression hardened in warning.  “And don’t bother trying to talk me out of it.”

I sighed in a show of resignation, but secretly I was pleased for the excuse to keep him close by.  “You can stay on the couch.  At least you can get some sleep that way.”

One corner of his lips tugged up.  “Doubtful.  I’ve seen your couch.  It’s probably two feet too short for me.  Besides, I should keep an eye out for Parnell.”

“You have to sleep, Reed.  If you’re worried about my safety, staying inside is just as effective as staying outside.  I’ll have you nearby as backup either way.  Caffeine can only keep you going for so long.  You probably have toxic levels in your bloodstream already.”

He studied me carefully, his eyes flicking from the sad twist of my mouth to the tired lines around my eyes.  “All right,” he capitulated after a moment.  “You get inside.  I’ll go grab my spare clothes from the car.”

I obeyed and stepped into my safe haven.  Gizmo was instantly at my ankles, curling around them and shouting out a chorus of throaty meows.  Even through my exhaustion, he drew a little smile from me.  I bent down and scooped up his considerable weight.  Gizmo was on a diet, but he was still too hefty.

“I know, I know.  You’re the saddest cat in the world, and you’re starving.”  His yellow eyes were full of reproach at my mocking.  He mewed his annoyance, and I laughed for the first time in hours.  I showed him my gratitude through giving him too many cat treats, and he quickly forgave me for making fun of his dramatics.  By the time Reed returned, I was sitting on the couch in my pajamas, and Gizmo was curled up on my lap, purring.

My partner eyed my furry child warily.  “Who’s this?”

“This is Gizmo,” I introduced.  “Gizmo, this is Reed.”  I expected him to step closer and give my cat a scratch behind the ears, but Reed stood a careful distance away.  “What’s up?”  I asked, confused.  Reed struck me as the caring type; I would have thought he loved animals.

“I, uh…  I don’t really spend any time around animals.”

“What?”  The concept was utterly foreign to me.

“I didn’t have pets growing up, and I’ve lived in small apartments ever since.”
Reed shrugged, but to my shock, he looked a bit embarrassed.  He didn’t take a step closer to us.

Was the big bad Dom really afraid of my cat?  I suppressed a giggle.  “He won’t scratch your or anything.  Gizmo’s a big softie.  Come say hello,” I encouraged.  If Reed was staying at my apartment, he would have to make friends with the chubby little
furball.

He approached slowly and reached out a tentative hand.  After a moment, he awkwardly patted Gizmo with the barest touch of his fingertips.  This time, I couldn’t hold back my snort of amusement.  Reed shot me a rueful smile.

“You two will work things out when Gizmo comes to sleep on your chest tonight.  He loves invading people’s personal space.”

To my amazement, Reed almost blanched, and I laughed outright.  God, it felt good to laugh.  His grin returned at the sound of my levity.

“I’m sure we’ll get along just fine.”

I was relieved to hear it.  It would have been a deal-breaker if Reed hadn’t liked my cat.

A deal-breaker?  There is no deal to be broken.  He’s off-limits, remember?

My exhaustion seeped back into me, and my good humor melted away.  Reed’s concern was back.

“You should get some sleep,” he told me kindly, but firmly.

“You had better sleep, too.  No more caffeine,” I ordered.  I was seriously concerned that the man would go into shock if he had one more cup of coffee.

“Yes, ma’am.”  His smile turned sardonic, as though he found my bossiness cute.  Heat flared between my legs in response to his cockiness.  My cheeks pinkened.

“Goodnight, then.”  I spoke to the carpet.  I couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Goodnight, Katie.”

I almost fled to my room, and I closed the door behind me.  The wood between us wasn’t quite thick enough to smother his low chuckle.  My sex pulsed at the sound, and I squeezed my thighs together.  I threw myself into my bed and drew the covers all the way up over my head, as though I could hide from my arousal and embarrassment.

Despite my consternation, the toll of my difficult day weighed heavily upon me, and I quickly fell into sleep.

Chapter 8

“Daddy!”  I screamed as crimson bloomed across the front of my father’s crisp white shirt.  His smiling face went oddly slack, and his deep green eyes turned dull.  His body sagged forward, and I caught him.  He jerked against me in time with the
pops
that rent the air around us.  Five hits.  Five bullets.  But Daddy had already been gone at the first.

His dead weight took me down with him.  The strong chest that had once been a place of solace and comfort now crushed me.  He was so heavy.  I couldn’t draw breath.  I shoved against him, gasping, but my hands slipped through something slick and hot.

Blood.

“Daddy!”
  I sobbed, but he didn’t answer.  More sticky heat poured over my fingers.

Dead.
 
He was dead.  He couldn’t hear me.  I shrieked out my grief and fear.

“Katie.  Wake up.”  It was a firm order, accompanied by a gentle touch on my shoulder.  I jolted awake, twisting away from the stranger.  “It’s just me.  It’s Reed.”  His fingers curled around my upper arm, holding me in place so I couldn’t lash out at him.

I blinked and then went so still that even my lungs stopped moving.  Reed was indeed the man hovering over me.  And he wasn’t wearing any clothes.  My widened eyes raked over his bare chest.  His golden skin rippled over bulging muscles, dusted by dark hair that tapered to a thin line that led downward over his defined abs…

I tore my gaze from his perfection before I reached the part of him I wanted to see most.  I gasped air back into my chest.

“You’re naked,” I exclaimed rather stupidly.

“If you’ll stop being squeamish, you’ll see that I’m wearing boxers.  I promise it’s safe to look.”  His voice held a mocking edge.

“Oh.” 
Idiot. 
Of course he wasn’t going to sleep in his work clothes.  “Don’t you have any pajamas?”  The words were somewhere between accusatory and panicked.  How was I supposed to resist staring at his ripped body?  Especially when he was in my bedroom.  Sitting on my bed.  So close that I could feel the heat of him.  His firm grip on my shoulder suddenly burned, awakening warmth at my core.

He chuckled, and the warmth flared hotter.  That dark, arrogant sound just did something for me.

“I wasn’t exactly going to change into pajamas in my car.  I wasn’t planning on this sleepover, remember?”

My eyes flicked to his, before instantly dropping back to his chest.  Even in the dim lighting from the streetlamp that filtered through my blinds, I could still see that he was glorious.  Shadows gathered in the hollows beneath his muscles.  I wanted to trace that darkness with my tongue, to taste its velvety decadence.

Then I noticed the four thin red lines scratched into his chest.  “You’re bleeding!”

His smile was lopsided, rueful.  “Your cat didn’t like it when I leapt up to come see what was wrong with you.  He did decide to sleep on my chest, after all, and he wasn’t pleased when I threw him off.”  Lines of concern appeared around his eyes   “You were crying out, Katie.  I was worried Parnell had gotten in somehow.  Are you okay?”

I’m fine,
I wanted to say.  I wanted to push it away, ignore it.  If I buried it deeply enough, I could overcome it.  My grief would fade.

But that was wrong.  The loss of my father still crippled me, tormenting me in my sleep when my guard was down.  I had never learned to deal with it because I had always buried it.

“No,” I whispered the admission.  “I’m not okay.”

His fingers pressed into my flesh where he still held me down, giving me a little reassuring squeeze.  “Tell me about it.”

He wasn’t asking.  And I didn’t even think about hesitating.

“My dad,” I said softly.  “I was dreaming about him.”

Reed’s expression was soft and full of understanding.  “He was killed in the line of duty, right?”

I swallowed and nodded.  “He was shot on a drugs raid.  I was seventeen.”

“Did they catch the man who did it?”

“Yes.  He’s in prison.”

Reed’s lips twisted in a mirror of my own pain.  “But it doesn’t help, does it?  Punishing the people who take the ones we love doesn’t bring them back.”

Empathy.
 
I realized Reed had lost someone to violence, too.  My hand found his, and I covered his fist with my palm.  “No.  It doesn’t.”

“You have these dreams often.”  Again, it wasn’t a question.

“Yes.”  The temptation to lie, to deflect, was absent.  No one ever encouraged me to share my grief.  Doing so was a relief.  And doing so with Reed felt as natural as breathing.  He had made it clear that he would accept nothing less than complete honesty from me, and sharing these hard truths with him was incredibly freeing, if painful.  The pain
was
freedom.  Freedom to feel, freedom to be vulnerable.

The first sob was cleansing.  Strong arms closed around me, and Reed drew my body up against his.  He held me as I cried, and I reveled in the warm, solid strength of him.  He wanted this from me.  He wanted it
for
me.  My tears purged the grief from my soul, siphoning some of it off.

When my crying slowed and I could finally breathe normally, I looked up into Reed’s kind eyes.  “You lost someone, too.”

He nodded, and the lines of his face tightened.  “My mother.  I was fourteen.”

“Will it always hurt like this?”

His expression softened again.  “The ache in your heart will always be there, because you’ll never forget the love you had for your father.  That part of your heart belonged to him, and it always will.  But if you accept it, if you acknowledge that a piece of you will always be his even though he’s gone, you can learn to live with it.  You can heal the ragged edges around the hole in your heart.”  He cupped my cheek, and his thumb gently brushed away the wetness there.  “Pain can be good, Katie.  You don’t have to fight it.  Accepting it can bring release.”

The way his eyes darkened let me know that he wasn’t talking about just emotional pain anymore.  “Is that why you’re into BDSM?  I didn’t think Doms took pain.”

His lips quirked up at the corners; he was evidently pleased that I had followed his line of thinking.  “I don’t.  I find my release in control.  But more importantly, I find it in trust.  A submissive has to have complete trust in me for her to allow me to give her pain.”  He paused.  “Do you trust me, Katie?”

Yearning rose up in me.  “I trust you.  And I want that.”  Yes, I wanted Reed.  And I wanted the pain he could give me.  I longed to find the release he promised.  Desire licked between my thighs at the idea of him dominating my body, allowing me to give in to my darkest fantasies.