MasterinMelbourne (8 page)

The best view of the club was from a couch against the far
wall, but he assumed that was for snuggling, and he had no one to snuggle with,
so he stood to the right of it and watched. There were couples who kept to
themselves, and there were people who mingled, seemingly knowing and greeting
everyone.
That’s the sort of person who might know where my Zoe is.
He
chuckled at the idea that she was his. He thought of her that way, but it
wasn’t true. Not yet. For all his self-talk about wanting to know one way or
the other, he wasn’t here for closure. If he found her he was going to do his
best to convince her that they should be looking to move their relationship
forward.

BDSMers were usually pretty closed-mouthed about their
friends in the scene, and if he asked the wrong person word could quickly
spread that he shouldn’t be talked to. He had no idea what Stu looked like. Any
of the Doms could be him, and if he still wasn’t over Zoe, he was a potential
source of trouble. The female subs were more likely to be in Zoe’s confidence,
but also more likely to circle the wagons to protect their own. He resolved to
wait before making a move.

As it turned out, he didn’t have to wait a full hour. A
dark-skinned, raven-haired woman sauntered up to him, wearing nothing but a
leather bra and panties and black boots. He was about to tell her that he
wasn’t interested when she got the first word in.

“I hear you’re looking for Zoe. Why?”

Obviously she’d been talking to the receptionist. Word
traveled quickly. “I’m concerned about her, that’s all really.”

The woman clapped her hand over her mouth. “My god, you’re
her Australian!”

He suppressed a grin at being
her
Australian. It was
too much like what he’d been thinking earlier. “Name’s Nick. Pleased to meet
you.” He stuck out his hand.

She shook it. “Juanita. I’m Zoe’s roommate. Or was. She said
you had the cutest accent! She was so right!”

Roommate. That sounded very promising, enough that he was
going to let the comment about his accent slide. Whatever it was, he didn’t
think it was cute. Why did people always think they were the ones without an
accent?

Juanita’s face fell. “She told me a lot about you. Only
problem is, you’re too late.”

“Too late?”

“She went to talk to the guy she was with before, and the
next thing I know she’s calling me and telling me that they’ve patched things
up.” She leaned forward. “He’s not a good man. She has awful taste in men.”

He didn’t bother to be insulted by the last remark. She had
said nothing about going to talk to Stu, so maybe she’d been hiding it from
him. But there was something that didn’t sound right. “Have you talked to her
since?”

“Just that once,” Juanita said glumly. “She let herself into
my apartment and got her stuff, and left a note about how I was wrong and he
was wonderful. Well, fine, if she can’t even bother to tell me in person, screw
it. I take it she didn’t bother to tell you either.”

It did sound consistent. Except it didn’t sound like the
person he knew. Zoe was stronger than that. “What exactly did it say, Juanita?”

Juanita looked up at the ceiling and knitted her brows in
concentration. “‘He’s really great. All your understanding doesn’t apply’. Kind
of strange, isn’t it?”

More than strange. Why would she put it that way? Why not
just say “you were wrong about him”, if that was the point? He thought about
it, but if there was a code in there, he didn’t know what it was. But then, the
message wasn’t meant for him, it was meant for Juanita, presumably.

“Juanita, does that sound like anything in Spanish?”

Juanita raised her eyebrows. “You know, I’m not even a
Mexican. I was born and raised here, and I speak English as well as any—”

“You don’t know Spanish. Sorry. Any other languages you
know, that Zoe knows? Any way that this could be saying more than it says?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t speak Spanish.” She smirked. “And
yeah, Zoe knows a little.” She paused and then shook her head. “But it doesn’t
sound like anything in Spanish that I can think of.”

“First letters? Last letters? Are you sure you remember it
exactly right?”

“H-r-g-a-y-u-d-a.” She shrugged. “Maybe it means something
in Japanese. Do you speak Japanese?”

“No, and it wouldn’t mean anything in Japanese, either. I
don’t think you can mash an H, an R and a G together that way in any language.”

”
Ayuda
means ‘aid’, in Spanish.” Juanita’s eyes went
wide. “Or ‘help’.”

“Do you know where Stu lives?”

“We need to call the police.”

Nick considered it for a moment. Zoe might have been
kidnapped, and that was certainly a police matter. But all Stu had to do was
deny them entrance, stand in the doorway and say she was out. If they
investigated, maybe they’d find more indication that Zoe wasn’t okay,
eventually. But on the basis of what he and Juanita had, would they really
force their way in and find her? He didn’t think they would in Australia, and
he really doubted that Texas was any different. He’d seen Stu’s handiwork. He
didn’t know that Zoe could wait for help. “Do you know where Stu lives?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s go. If I don’t come out in half an hour, you can
call the police and they’ll have plenty of reason to bust in. I don’t think
they’re going to do it on the basis of that note.” Not waiting for her to
object, he grabbed her wrist and headed for the door.

“Can I get dressed first?” Juanita hurried to keep up.

He didn’t want to wait. “What’s going to be happening with
Zoe while you do that?”

“Dunno and don’t want to think about it, but I think the
cops will listen to me better if I’m not wearing a leather bikini.”

He stopped. “Good point. Where are your clothes?”

“With Dahlia up front. She’s the one that told me about
you.”

“Let’s hurry.” He let go of her wrist now that he was sure
she was with him. She had to take two strides to each of his one, but she kept
up remarkably well. And to her credit, she didn’t excuse herself to go to the
ladies’ room to change, but pulled a blouse and slacks on over what she had. He
supposed it wasn’t too surprising Zoe had practical friends.

“Let’s go,” she said, “I’ll fix it up straight in the car.”

Chapter Eight

They arrived at Stu’s house a long half hour later. Nick had
broken the speed limit all the way there, but he took comfort in the fact that
most of the other drivers were doing the same. He hadn’t expected to end up in
a posh area where the homes bordered on mansions, but apparently Stu had money.
A moment of doubt crept back into his heart. Maybe Zoe had gone back, attracted
to a life of ease.

He shook it off. Zoe didn’t seem money obsessed. Besides,
from their conversations earlier she’d kept her job even during her relationship
with Stu. She hadn’t been looking for a sugar daddy. When she came to
Australia, she hadn’t even been that interested in looking for a man, as far as
he could tell. She was independent, and it was one of the things he admired in
her. No way had she gone back to someone who burned and scarred her.

The house itself was ranch style, all on one floor. There
was no car in the driveway, but there might have been one in the garage. On the
other hand, virtually every window in the house was lit, so someone was
probably home, and since there were no other cars, not a whole party of people.
Apparently Stu didn’t care about his electricity bills.

There was a practical problem, however, and that was the
iron fence with the security gate on it. There was a button and an intercom on
the fence. Stu wouldn’t have to come to the door to turn him away. He could
vault the fence, no problem, but any notion of posing as someone with
legitimate business would vanish if he did. His plan had been to get to the
door and force his way in when it opened. That wasn’t going to work.
Think.
Think.
He got out of the car, walked around it and rattled the gate. It was
locked all right, but he figured it was worth checking. Whoever was behind all
those lit windows would see mostly a reflection of the room they were in, even
if they parted the curtains to look. He didn’t have to be too stealthy.

“You’re really taken with Zoe, aren’t you?” asked Juanita,
leaning out of the car.

“Yeah.” He rubbed his chin with his hand. All he needed was
for Stu to open the door. Although if nothing else worked, he’d break a window.
Of course if he was wrong, they’d be locking him up or deporting him pretty
damn quick. He wasn’t sure which they would do, and he wasn’t going to consult
a lawyer. “Hide yourself in the car a second.”

Juanita ducked back down.

He walked around, opened the trunk and propped it up. In the
darkness, there wasn’t any sense trying to simulate steam coming off it, so he
left it at that and went back to push the button on the intercom.

“What the fuck?” asked a low, rough voice a few moments
later. So much for the idea that all Texas accents were beautiful.

“Car broke down. Saw that your house was lit, thought I
might bother you for some water for the radiator.” He didn’t think he could make
much of a stab at a Texan accent, but he tried to imitate a character from a
sitcom he used to watch. God knows what kind of accent he had, but he wanted to
seem as much like he belonged as possible.

“Go fuck yourself. This isn’t a fucking garage.”

And I thought no one used that word as much as an
Australian.
His fists clenched. What kind of jerk wouldn’t even let someone
have some water? He looked at the house and saw a silhouette of a man at one of
the windows, well away from the front door. He shrugged and went back to the
car. Maybe they’d have to go with the police after all, and he’d wasted
valuable time. He was no action hero, he knew that. But he also knew that the
police were going to require a lot of convincing.

“Juanita, can you peek and tell me when the man goes away?”
He moved to the front and pretended to be looking under the hood.

“He’s gone,” Juanita said twenty seconds or so later.

“Good. Stay in the car and stay safe, and call the cops if
you start to get worried about how long I’ve been, but in ten minutes no matter
what.” He turned and took a running start at the fence. He might be ensuring
that he’d get arrested, but there was no way he was leaving Zoe there if that’s
where she was. Not after traveling all this way. He got his foot high enough to
plant it on the intercom box, grabbing a spike at the top as his momentum
carried him up and he vaulted over. It was like climbing up someone’s back for
a mark, but easier because the fence stood still. Since it was a few years
since he’d been in his best football form, that was probably a good thing.

He was headed toward the window he’d seen the silhouette in,
thinking about how stupid he was probably being, when he spotted something
between the left of the window and the front door. Near the ground there was a
faucet, the kind one would attach a garden hose to. He sidled up next to the
house, crouched and turned the faucet on full blast. “I’ll get us some water,
Sheila!” he yelled, in case Stu missed the sound of the water.

Sure enough, a man came to the door. He was bigger than
Nick, but that wasn’t what worried him most. The man had a rifle in his hands,
one hand on the trigger and the other clutching the barrel, and it would take
him only a split second to lift and fire. If it wasn’t for his shock of red
hair, Nick wouldn’t have noticed anything about him but the size and the gun,
but the hair backlit by the lights in the house was hard to miss.

The muscles and the gun, however, presented more of a
problem. Fortunately, the man turned directly toward the faucet, looking for
the lunatic who had turned his water on. Nick had moved to the other side of
the door, expecting that. He stepped forward, grabbed the gun barrel with both
hands and yanked hard, pulling it out of the other man’s hand. He threw it
across the lawn, thankful it hadn’t fired randomly in the process. At least the
man was disarmed.

A huge fist rammed into Nick’s face a split second later,
and he staggered away. He tasted blood on his lip.
Maybe I should have hit
him first off, rather than trying to disarm him.
He hadn’t been sure one
blow would take him out, however, and then he’d still have the gun. One on one,
Nick figured he could take almost anybody. Having felt the punch, however, he
wasn’t sure he could outfight the only man who mattered.

“Stu?” he asked.

“Yeah,” the man drawled. “Don’t think I know you.”

“A f—” Nick bit back the words. If he failed, no sense in
telling the man he was a friend of Zoe’s, because Zoe might be the one to pay
the price. “A foe.”

“A foe? What kind of fucking loser speak is that?” Stu
stepped forward and Nick moved back, trying to keep himself between Stu and the
gun and still stay out of reach. He wanted to watch the way the man moved and
hope he made a mistake. But Stu advanced cautiously.

“Just a word that started with F. I know more than the one.”
He grinned at Stu with a bravado he didn’t feel. Still, he needed to get under
the man’s skin if he wanted the man to make that mistake. “Sorry, didn’t know a
wanker like you would be tripped up by a three-letter word.”

“Hell, you’re Zoe’s fucking Aussie. Nick.”

“She told you.”

“I made her show me her emails. It’s impressive you came all
the way here, but you’re soft, Nick. She needs a real Dom. Give it up.”

So she was there. He wanted to go to her, and he was pretty
sure he could turn Stu around if he circled to his right, but then Stu would be
closer to the gun.
And I’m running out of room to back away too. He needs to
make a mistake fast, or I’ll be stuck with rushing him, and I don’t think
that’s going to work.

The gun. Nick backed up until he was almost even with it. He
didn’t think he’d be able to pick it up and use it, and he needed to be more
than ninety percent sure that Zoe was there against her will to take a man’s
life. He didn’t even think he’d be able to bend over and use it as a club
before Stu was on him. The iron fence was at his back. He moved to his right,
as if he was trying to circle, his fists gathered in front of his face, making
a show of being ready to block and counterpunch. He left the path to the gun
wide open.

Stu, despite his size advantage, reached for it. If Nick
hadn’t expected that, he wouldn’t have been able to move fast enough, and even
so it was a near thing. Stu was fast for a man his size. But he still needed to
bend over, and that was slower for a big man. Nick kicked Stu’s head as Stu’s
fingers touched the rifle, and as the man straightened in surprise, Nick
followed up with a hard punch with his right, forcing Stu back against the
fence.

Stu swung his left arm and his punch was only partially
blocked by Nick’s fist, landing on his chin. It rocked him, but it didn’t stop
Nick from launching another attack, this time with his left. Stu jerked his
head back out of the way, making Nick miss, but in the process hit his head against
the iron. That left Nick another opening and he swept Stu’s footing out from
under him with one swift movement of his leg, shoving his palm into the man’s
face in case he needed help going down.

Nick picked up the gun.

Juanita was at the fence. He didn’t want to risk taking his
eyes off Stu, but he noticed her anyway. Stu, however, wasn’t moving. He had
his hands up.

He glanced over at Juanita long enough to let her know he
was talking to her. “You don’t follow directions very well, do you?”

Juanita shrugged. “I’m a switch.”

What does that have to do with anything?
But he
didn’t want to get distracted by an argument with her.

“Juanita. You fucking spic cunt, you tried to hide her from
me.” Stu glared at her.

“I’d be real polite if I were you,” Nick told him. “Where’s
Zoe?”

“Give me the gun and I’ll put a bullet in him,” Juanita said
with a cold calmness that bothered Nick.

“Don’t shoot,” Stu said.

Nick didn’t have any intention of shooting, but he didn’t
want the gun loose. The neighbors were probably calling the police right now,
which meant that he didn’t have much time. “Where’s Zoe?”

Stu got a sly look on his face. “I’ll show you.”

“Have a little trap planned? I don’t think so.” He hoped it
was just a trap, and Stu hadn’t done something ghastly to Zoe. He wanted to
kick the man in the face, but he held back. For one thing, that would make him
vulnerable to being pulled down. “Get up. How do you let people in the gate?”

“There’s a switch in the house.”

“Get marching.” Nick passed the gun through the bars to
Juanita. There was no sense having something in his hands he wasn’t going to
use.

Stu got up and took a quick step toward the house, but there
was no way Nick was going to let him get enough of a lead to shut the door. He
grabbed Stu by the collar of his polo shirt, marched him to the door and
through.

“Zoe?” Nick called.

There wasn’t any answer.

“She’s not here,” Stu protested. But his voice was uneven.
Nick was sure he was lying.

The living room was normal enough, if opulent and heavy on
the black leather furniture. It didn’t have Zoe in it, which was the only
feature Nick cared much about. There were two switches near the door. One said
“Ronco Security” and Nick flipped it. Presumably the other was an ordinary
light switch. He didn’t want to waste time, but he didn’t want to leave Juanita
alone with the gun on the other side of the fence either. He could make out the
click of the gate and heard Juanita’s heels on the walkway, but he kept his
gaze on Stu.

“Which way?”

“In the basement. I’ve got a whole dungeon. What do
you
have?”

“Some rope and a good imagination.” If Stu was trying to get
under his skin, he was barking up the wrong tree. Sure, if he was fabulously
wealthy he might have a dungeon in his house, but he associated them more with
clueless wannabes than with real Doms. “Where’s the basement?”

Stu made a gesture with his hand toward a hallway to the
right, as if to say, “After you.”
He has to know I won’t let him behind me.
He’s stalling. Whatever he thinks time will get him, I don’t want him to have
it.

Nick’s patience ran out. He slammed the bigger man up
against a wall, facefirst. Stu, who had been pretty docile, twisted out of his
grasp and turned, ready to fight.
Fine. Bring it on. But you’re going down
quick. I don’t want to waste time.

Stu froze.

“Can I shoot him?” asked Juanita.

“Not yet,” said Nick drily. He had been looking forward to
landing another punch, maybe leaving a mark that would last for as long as
Zoe’s would. But this way was more sensible. He didn’t have to turn to know
that Juanita was behind him with the gun. “Lead the way to the basement.”

Stu glared and nodded. “You’ll see.”

The door down wasn’t far away, and there were lights on
downstairs as in the rest of the house. Which was good, because Nick didn’t
want to follow Stu into darkness. “Zoe?” Nick called. He still couldn’t see
her, although he could see all sorts of bondage equipment. X-frames, spanking
benches, even a fake rack. At least he hoped it was fake, because the real
thing wasn’t for BDSM, it was for torture. There were several beer bottles on
the floor.

He got a muffled sound in response. He hadn’t allowed
himself to think she might be dead, but hearing an indication she was alive
filled him with sudden relief. He took one more step down and saw that at the
very end of the room there was a small cage, and Zoe was sitting in it, naked.
She had a gag in her mouth, and drool was running down her chin and her neck.
Her hands were tied. There wasn’t enough room for her to stand. Elation at
finding her alive warred with anger at seeing her in that condition.

Nick ran over to Zoe. Her eyes were wide as she watched him.
Her body was crisscrossed with red marks. A padlock secured the cage, but the
bars were far enough apart that he could reach through and undo the gag, at
least.