Saving Micah (Sequel to Conquering Jude) (6 page)

“That laughing jackass, Mistress, is Ethan White Hawk.” He nodded towards the still laughing man. “What ever happened to the injuns being silent and sober, White Hawk?”

“They went the way of everything else Indian…it got commercialized…” Ethan finally managed to speak without laughing.

Jude pressed his face against her thigh. She stroked her fingers over his hair, before urging him to his feet. She smiled as he rose gracefully to his feet, his form damn near perfect. He’d come so far in the four months she’d been training him.

“So you met him in the service?”

“He was in my unit when I was with the Rangers. Lucky for us, he retired from the service and now is the head of security here.”

Relief filled her. At least now he wouldn’t have to break into the computers and possibly get caught. “So he’ll help us.”

“Of course I’m going to help. What happened to your friend shouldn’t have happened.”

“I thank you.” She rubbed her hands over her leggings. Even out of the club she’d never be comfortable in anything other than leggings or flowing dresses. “So what have you found out? I’m sure you weren’t going to come up here and tell me that without finding at least a reason on why they weren’t on the tapes.”

“It’s because the computers crashed just before the attack happened. That idiot technician somehow managed to fuck up the computers again.”

She perked up. “Do you think he had anything to do with it?”

Ethan shook his head. “Not likely, Olivia. The boy is a total klutz. This isn’t the first time he’s fucked something up since I’ve been here. If he wasn’t the son of the owner of the company who services all our computer equipment I’d fire his ass. It was just a stroke of bad luck.”

Her heart sank. “So what do we do now? Wait for him to be attacked again?” She rubbed the back of her neck. “I hate to say this, but I don’t trust the security of this hospital.”

“Neither do I, Mistress.” Jude turned his back to the window. “That’s why Ethan and I have come up with a plan. We’re gonna move Micah to a safe place, so he can recuperate.”

“Then what happens – we hide?” As much as it galled her to think about retreating – she didn’t know what else to do.

She watched as he moved closer to Micah before tracing a finger over the light bruising around their lover’s throat. Then he looked up at her. “No – then White Hawk and I go hunting.” The way he said it so coldly sent chills down her spine. This man, her submissive, was beyond mad – he was furious.

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Chapter Five

Mistress Brigit Borduex tapped her red lacquered nails against the polished teak surface of her desk. Sitting in her office, the last thing she wanted to be doing was dealing with this. She had a willing sub that would soon be waiting for her in their playroom.
But first I have to get off this damn phone!
With it pressed to her ear, she wasn’t sure who she wanted to do more harm to, Olivia for siccing Caelan Doherty on her, or the idiotic Jason Wasterson III, one of her new Doms, for having a few too many at the last party he attended and offered a guest pass to a woman he barely knew.
Damn it,
Bête à Bon Dieu is a high classed members only club – not the damn YMCA.

“I understand your frustration, Caelan. It’s no less than mine. Not only did Olivia entrust me with the safety of her sub, but he got hurt on my watch. Christ, he was here with the woman two nights ago and I did everything but thrust him into her arms.”

“Why the hell did you do that?” She could hear him playing with those infernal silver pendulum balls.

“Quit playing with your balls and listen to me as I explain this again to your stubborn Irish ass. He was starving – denying what he needs. He hasn’t been coming into the club for release and I’m not talking about the sexual kind.”

A frustrated noise filtered through the phone as the balls quieted on the other end.

“How do you know just because he wasn’t coming into your club, he wasn’t finding it elsewhere? That’s all I’m saying. It can’t hurt to check the other clubs.”

“According to my Sampson, the man’s been living like a monk since he arrived at Thanksgiving, taking a refuge in a blues bar near his office instead of coming to the club. I saw him the night he was here. There is no way in blue hell the man has been getting the release he needs anywhere else. He was wound tighter than a six day clock.” She pulled a hand thru her ginger colored hair. “But if it’ll make you feel better, then I’ll call around to some of the other clubs.”

“But now he’s in the hospital from being attacked. Not only once but twice!”

She drummed her fingers harder on the desk. “I’m well aware of the fact, Doherty, and if I weren’t such good friends with your best friend, I’d tell you where to stick it. I’ve got my best man on it and he’s gotten a lead on the member who gave the woman the pass. Once we talk to him, we’ll hopefully find out what the Domme’s name is.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Believe me there’ll be dire consequences. She’ll never be able to set foot in any club in New Orleans or the entire South once I get done with her – if she’s still alive.”

After promising to call him if anything came up, she disconnected the call. She leaned back against her chair when there was a soft knock on her office door. Standing, she walked towards the door. Opening it, she smiled as she saw her submissive, Sampson, kneeling in front of the doorway. In between his splayed denim-covered legs was a manila folder. “Jeans, slave?”

Sampson shook his head, his long blond hair flying. “I’m sorry, Mistress. You said you wanted this right away and I just got done meeting with Dierks’s daughter.” He lifted his head and there was a silent plea in his eyes. “I don’t feel comfortable sitting in the same room with her in my normal attire.”

She slowly looked him up and down. “You don’t find the clothing I provide for you comfortable, slave? They cover you adequately.”

A tight laugh escaped him. “Cover yes, Mistress – conceal no.” He shrugged his massive shoulders. “The last time I met with her, she attempted to fondle me – I didn’t wish for a repeat.”

“She what?” Disbelief coursed through her. “You were wearing your collar, correct?”

His eyes widened as hurt filled them. “Of course, Mistress. I haven’t taken it off since you placed it on me.”

“Did you inform her of your taken status?”

He nodded. “Yes, Mistress. We were here in the club.”

“And you didn’t feel it was important to inform me about another Domme thinking it was okay to touch what was mine?”

He looked away. “I…she was drunk, Mistress – she wasn’t in the right frame of mind.” He slowly moved to stand. “Forgive me, Mistress. I should’ve told you, but I didn’t want you to revoke her privileges.”

She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “It happened only once?”

He nodded. “Yes, Mistress.”

“But it was enough to make you feel uncomfortable with baring your body inside my club.”

His lips parted but gave a short nod. “Just if I’m around her when I’m alone.”

“I shall speak to her on this matter, Sampson. No Domme touches you without my permission. Do you want that to change?”

He shook his head frantically. “No, Mistress!”

“Good. Now, let’s put this behind us.” She gestured to the folder. “What do you have for me?”

“Dierks found
Wasterson for us. He’ll be back in town tomorrow for a business meeting at Café Giovanni. He has dinner arrangements at…” He flipped open the manila folder. “…at seven with Marcus Landry – his Assistant Vice-President of Finance.”

As he scrambled to his feet and darted down the hall, she leaned over to retrieve the forgotten folder. It wouldn’t do to have the contents scattered all over her office as they played. Caelan could wait as could Dierk’s daughter - but her Sampson could not.

* * * *

Micah groaned as he came to again. The pain in his ass seemed stronger than yesterday and his neck for some reason hurt like hell. When he opened his eyes and saw a security guard sitting by his bedside reading a magazine, it all came back in a rush. The attack by Leland and his bitch of Mistress, of him struggling to keep her from placing the collar around his neck. His hands flew to his neck. The pain he felt at his own touch was nothing like his relief that there was no collar.

He must have made a noise because the man looked up from his magazine. “I see you’re finally awake. The nurse told me you should be coming to soon.”

Micah opened his mouth to speak and nothing more than a croak came out.

The man held up his hand. “Don’t speak. The doctor said your vocal chords were bruised and until the swelling comes back down, it’ll be painful to talk.” Leaning over, he grabbed a familiar small tablet and pen. “Here. Write down anything you want to ask.”

Micah shifted and lifted a sore arm to accept the items. He scowled as he noticed the fine tremor in his hands.
Must be from the meds.

After he finally managed to click the pen, he scrawled his first question on the paper. Showing it to the man, he waited as the man burst out laughing.

“My name is Ethan, and no, I didn’t escape from some reservation and steal some guard’s clothing. I’m the Head of Security here at the hospital.” He fingered one of his braids. “Besides one of your lovers is a long-time friend of mine from the Rangers.”

Micah frowned and spoke without thinking. “Lover?” he croaked, his throat burning.

“Jude Larson?” Ethan gave him a puzzled look.

He opened his mouth and Ethan interrupted him. “Hey, rest your throat- use the tablet or that Mistress of yours will kick my ass.”

Micah reached for the tablet. The man was obvious deluded. He had no Mistress nor was he Jude Larson’s lover. His skin crawled at the idea of even allowing the man to touch him. Scrawling on the tablet, he handed it to Ethan. The man accepted it, scanned it quickly before the corners of his mouth tugged upwards with a grin.

“Boy, you have some rather strange euphemisms – but no I haven’t lost my brains in the bat shit. Mistress Olivia told me you might deny your relationship with her and Dickens.” He leaned forward and stared at Micah.

Micah shifted uncomfortably under his intense stare, wondering what the man saw that was so interesting, and who the hell Dickens was.

“Jude.” Ethan said softly. “You see, while I don’t understand exactly what you get out of submitting to a woman, I can’t believe you’re going to let what happened to you to be an excuse for letting them slip through your hands. I’d be grasping on tightly with both hands if I had a woman, let alone a man and woman, like the two of them, who are moving hell and earth to protect your stubborn ass.” He braced his arms on the bed railing and leaned in. “But I need you to understand this. If you deliberately hurt my friend, I’ll take it very personally. Jude has been through hell, and after seeing the connection between him and your Mistress, I’ll be extremely pissed if you do anything to ruin it.”

Micah flinched.
Jesus Christ, after everything I’ve been through of late, who does this ass think he is threatening me?
Narrowing his eyes, he glared at the man before opening his mouth and croaking out a reply. “Take your threats and shove them up your ass – I don’t need this shit.” Rolling over onto his side, he gave the man his back, wishing to hell that everyone would leave him alone.

* * * *

Olivia moaned heatedly into Jude’s mouth as he pressed her up against the closed door of their hotel room. Logically she knew they should be packing their stuff up to move to the safe house Ethan had found for them through a friend. It was his friend’s vacation home just outside of New Orleans. It’d be the perfect place for Micah to recuperate while they were trying to locate his attacker.

In fact she’d been planning on doing just that until she saw the raw need in Jude’s eyes. He had laid everything on the line at the hospital. Added to the reality of seeing the dark bruises around Micah’s throat had driven her sub to the point he needed the physical connection between them to assure he still belonged to and was loved by her. And as much as he was there to see to her needs, just as he had this morning, as his Domme it was her turn to give him what he needed.