Home > Servicing the Target (Masters of the Shadowlands #10)(123)

Servicing the Target (Masters of the Shadowlands #10)(123)
Author: Cherise Sinclair

“Ben would be good at juggling everything, I think. Outside the bedroom, he’d insist on protecting you and supporting you,” Kim said.

“And then hand you the whip in the bedroom,” Jessica added.

“I wish.” Anne’s drink tasted like hopelessness. “That was what I’d wanted, but Ben said he’s vanilla. He thanked me for the taste of kink, as if he wanted to spit at what was left in his mouth.”

“That was that night at the Shadowlands? And you believed him?” Uzuri looked at her in disbelief. “You’re a Domme—you’re supposed to read us better.”

Jessica laughed. “Pfft, even mind-reading Dominants screw it up when their own emotions get involved. And that night, she wasn’t operating on all burners.” She glanced over. “Sorry, Anne.”

“It’s the truth.” Anne hesitated as her anxiety and hope fought a battle. “What did I miss?”

Uzuri frowned. “I was in the subbie section, watching. You were bending over Joey, holding his chin all sweet and Mistressy, and just…looking at him. A long time. And Ben saw that, and his face totally changed—like mad and jealous and hurt. He thought you went back to Joey.”

Anne held up a hand as the memory seared through her, clear as crystal now. “He said that. ‘See you found your boy.’ I thought he meant I’d found Joey to talk with. But he thought I chose Joey, rather than him. And then he…unleashed.”

“Like a typical hurt guy,” Jessica said.

“Yes, like a wounded man, he not only picked up his cards, but kicked over the table as well,” Uzuri agreed.

“He lied about what he wants, Anne,” Kim said. “He’s not a slave, but he’s not vanilla either. He told Raoul that.”

“Hey, I saw him after one of your scenes. He looked past content and well into blissful. It’s obvious he’s into that part of submission.” Jessica smiled.

“Blissful.” And didn’t that lovely description make Anne feel good?

Kim nodded. “You two need to talk. I think you belong together.”

Their expressions held such conviction that Anne’s eyes burned with tears. She’d avoided thinking about Ben and what to do. Maybe this was why—because her memory was all mixed up with pain and lost hopes.

But these women were her…her posse…as Jessica had said. They wouldn’t steer her wrong. “All right. I’ll—”

The sound of ripping drew Anne’s attention toward the deck.

A hand reached through a long gash in the screen door and unlatched the lock. A huge man slid the door open and stepped in.

Anne shot to her feet. “Who—” She stopped at the sight of his face.

Although a panty hose over his head flattened his features, the rage came through clearly. “More ’n one bitch here, bro.” He waved the knife toward them.

More men crowded through the door—all masked. An armed robbery?

Adrenaline dried Anne’s mouth.

Uzuri squeaked with fear.

Her heart kicking against her ribs, Anne faced the men, sliding into a non-offensive stance that still prepared her for battle.

“What do you want?” Anne counted five men. Too many to fight successfully. Damn. Her stomach twisted to the point of nausea.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Kim take a grip on a lamp.

Jessica retreated behind a chair, holding the phone in her hands out of sight. Hopefully she’d hit mute when dialing 9-1-1.

To keep the men’s attention from Jessica, Anne backed toward the kitchen. “What do you want?” she repeated in a calm voice. The longer they could avoid violence the better.

Five men. 9-1-1 might be too late.

The man in the forefront had a bulky body the size of Ben’s, an oversized head, and a snarl like a vicious pit bull. “Where’d you hide my wife and my son, you cunt?”

Oh, bad. Home invasions were rampant in Tampa, but this wasn’t an attempted burglary. “My wife.” This was an abuser trying to find his victim. The knot in Anne’s belly tightened. The masks had given her hope—but these guys couldn’t afford to leave witnesses behind.

My baby. Anne started to cover her stomach, then forced her arms to hang loose. Never draw attention to a vulnerability. I’m not pregnant. No, not me.

Fear dried her mouth. The storm and accompanying accidents would slow the arrival of the police. How long could she stall? “Who’s your wife?”

“Sue Ellen. Now where the fuck is she?” He swung his arm and knocked a lamp into the wall.

Hand against her mouth, Uzuri gave a thin scream.

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