Club Desire: My Obsession Part 17

But the clothes in the hallway meant someone had been there. That someone could still be in the house.

Lightning flashed outside, strobing through the house, and thunder boomed several seconds later, making the pictures on the walls rattle. As if brought on by the thunder, rain pelted harder against the windows and the wind howled.

Sandra yelped and pressed against him. She was clearly terrified, and he didn't blame her one bit.

Icy fingers raced down his spine as he considered his options. Even though the weather had turned bad, he thought getting outside and back to the car was the best option. He was confident he could protect them in any hand-to-hand confrontation or even with a knife involved, but against a gun he would be at a huge disadvantage, especially with Sandra's safety to worry about. No amount of martial arts skills could stop a bullet.

He reached around the archway into the kitchen and grabbed the handset of the phone where it sat in the holder on the wall. Stretching the tangled cord so he had some slack, he brought it to his face and quickly dialed 911 before pressing it to his ear to hear complete silence. No dial tone.

Either the storm had taken down a phone line or someone had cut it. Either way, it wasn't good.

He looked down at Sandra, who lifted her tearstained face to meet his gaze. Her eyes were wide and glossy, her nostrils flaring, her entire body stiff. He rubbed his hand over her back in soothing circles. He wanted to stop and comfort her, but they didn't have that luxury.

"Stay strong for a bit longer." He took his iPhone out of his front pocket and dialed 911, but it only rang and rang. After the tenth ring, he hung up as frustration burned through him. He pulled up the messages app and typed in a one-word shortcut he had preprogrammed a few years ago after he had rescued Dex from an FBI op that had gotten out of control. He hit "send" before slipping his phone back inside his pocket. Dex could track Brent with the "Find My Friends" app on his iPhone and would know what to do when he received that message.

Brent needed to get the house secured for both Mich.e.l.le and Sandra, and he couldn't do that alone. Especially with the storm raging, and all the unknowns.

Quickly scanning his options, Brent decided that being out in the open would be better than in here, especially with the entire back of the house a possible hiding place for any number of a.s.sailants, and with clear evidence that someone had been inside the house.

Every few minutes, headlights would slash through the thin curtains over the front windows and pan across the room as a car drove by, but the storm continued to rage. Even though he might have seen a shadow at the front window, there was no way to know whether that was anything to worry about. Going out the front was better than the back, where they would have to deal with a backyard area that was cut off from view of the street, and then make their way around the house to the car during the nasty storm.

He leaned down close to Sandra's ear and realized she was shaking. "It's going to be all right. Follow my lead, and if anything happens, fight like h.e.l.l remembering everything Dex taught you earlier, and I'll take care of the rest."

Brent took her hand and made his way to the front door. "Let me make sure it's safe to go out first," he whispered.

When she nodded, he opened the door slowly and peered outside. He couldn't see very far in the dark gloom and rain, but then neither could anyone looking for them unless he had night-vision goggles. And if that was the case, they were on an entirely different level of threat. He had to go with the most likely scenario, which was that anyone out there was dealing with the same murky darkness.

He took one step outside, keeping Sandra behind him standing just inside the doorway. If he could get them to the car, he was confident he could keep them safe until help arrived. He took her hand, ready to do a quick walk to the car. The yard had become a mud pit in the last twenty minutes and he didn't want either of them to trip or twist an ankle.

He looked back at Sandra. "Let's get to the car and we can sit in there with the doors locked until Dex arrives."

"I'm ready." She squared her shoulders and looked out into the pouring rain that was now falling at a 45-degree angle because of the high winds.

Making sure he had a firm grip on her hand, he stepped off the porch and onto the squishy lawn, making sure the footing was firm enough before taking another step.

He stayed aware of Sandra and her progress as well as where they were in relation to the car. Within seconds, Brent was drenched and Sandra looked like a drowned kitten. Their clothes were whipped against their bodies, and they had to push forward against the force of the wind to keep moving.

Barely any moonlight filtered through the storm-just enough so Brent could make out where he had parked the car.

When they made it to the car, he pulled out his keys to deactivate the alarm and unlock the doors, but his fingers were so slick from the rain that he fumbled and dropped the keys onto the sloped curb and they skittered under the car.

He cursed and squeezed Sandra's hand to alert her he would be moving.

She squeezed back and let go before he knelt on the wet sidewalk, leaning down to look under the car and search for his keys. In the dark, they weren't readily visible.

He had just closed his hand over them when Sandra screamed, startling him. He snapped his head around toward her and smacked his forehead against the bottom door panel.

Pain shot through his head and his vision swam. He took a deep breath to shake off the sudden disorientation. He pushed to his feet as Sandra's scream echoed through the night, but farther away this time, off to his right. He frantically scanned for her in the raging storm. As a flash of lightning lit the sky he caught sight of her at the edge of the yard, a man pulling her along by the hair, one rough yank at a time.

She was scratching, biting, and kicking the best she could in the muck and driving rain.

The man pulled his fist back to punch Sandra, and Brent's rage boiled through him like lava erupting from a volcano.

He ran forward, sliding in the mud, barely managing to stay on his feet. Another flash of lightning gave him a quick view of her. The man thrust his fist forward. Sandra ducked and head-b.u.t.ted him in the groin, his fist coming down on her mid-back.

The man crumpled and went down on his knees, his wet hair plastered against his head. Sandra staggered from the blow to her back, just to the side of her spine. The man's howl of pain and anger cut through the storm as Sandra fell, but then rolled away and pushed to her feet.

Good girl!

Brent darted forward the last few feet, but the man grabbed Sandra's leg before he could stop him. Sandra lost her footing on the slick ground and she slipped and fell backward into the mud, her head hitting the ground a second before her shoulders, and then she lay still.

Fear shot through Brent and when he reached them seconds later, the man surprised him by striking out with his fist, which connected with Brent's side, but glanced off since Brent was in motion.

Brent would have to be careful since he couldn't see when the man was telegraphing his next move in the dark and driving rain unless a flash of lightning struck at the right time. Before the man could steady his stance, Brent struck forward with the heel of his palm in a firm uppercut, aiming for the man's chin, to snap his head back. If he could disorient him, he could disable him.

The man could still have a weapon that hadn't come into play yet, so it was better to err on the side of caution.

At the last second, the man moved, trying to lunge for Sandra, and Brent's blow hit him squarely on the side of the head just under his right ear.

He stumbled back and howled, obviously enraged.

Sirens blared in the distance, and Brent could only hope it meant that Dex had received his message.

With one last glance at Sandra, the man turned and fled, navigating the slick mud with only a few lapses and wobbles.

Brent was tempted to go after him, to make him pay for attacking Sandra. But Sandra was still lying flat on her back in the muck, with rain pelting down on her and the wind howling around them.

Ice ran through his veins as he looked down at her still form. She had thrown one arm over her face, but made no move to sit up.

He knelt next to her, leaning over her to block the rain as much as possible. "Sandra, speak to me." He gently lifted her arm to see her eyes closed tight. He brushed her matted, wet hair away from her face and glanced back quickly to make sure the man who had attacked her wasn't doubling back. Another flash of lightning showed the man ducking between two houses across the street as he disappeared from sight.

Brent hesitated about moving Sandra in case she had sustained a head or neck injury, but he didn't want to leave her in the pouring rain. He gently traced his fingers down the side of her head until he felt a large b.u.mp. It didn't take him long to figure out what had caused it. Her head rested on a metal grate that was overgrown with gra.s.s.

Fear for her hit him like a fist to the gut as his mind raced with options.

The sirens blared closer, turning down the street, then the vehicles screeched to a halt in front of the house.

The strobe lights illuminated the scene, and he was glad to see an ambulance along with the two police cars. Dex was always prepared for any eventuality.

Dex's car pulled up behind them as the police officers spilled out of their cars and shouted for him to raise his hands and step away from Sandra.

Grinding his teeth and leaving her to the mercy of the steady rain, Brent did as he was told. After he had shown his ID and Dex had flashed his credentials, the EMTs were finally able to tend to Sandra.

Dex laid a firm hand on his shoulder, guiding Brent back several steps to give the EMTs s.p.a.ce to work. He knew his friend was right, but it killed him not to be there to soothe and comfort her in case she woke up.

As they slid her onto the backboard and lifted her onto the gurney, Sandra's eyes fluttered open and her gaze searched for and then settled on him.

Ignoring the protests from the emergency workers and Dex, Brent stepped close and grabbed her hand. Her skin was cold and wet, and he was thankful when they slid a blanket over her.

"Sir, we need to get her onto the ambulance. We're taking her to John C. Lincoln. You can meet us there."

He nodded and turned back to look at her pale face, lit by the lights of the ambulance. "Sandra. I'm here. I'll get to the hospital as soon as I can."

Her gaze was weak and unfocused, but he thought it settled on him again before her eyes closed.

He squeezed her hand and then reluctantly let go and stepped back.

Dex moved up beside him. "They'll take good care of her." He gestured toward the porch and the cops. "Let's get the rest of this taken care of so we can drive to the hospital to see her."

As they stepped up onto the porch, one of the officers looked at Dex. "Agent Alexander. I just talked to an Agent Tanner at the Phoenix office."

Brent looked between Dex and the cop who had spoken. Dex wasn't actually an agent, he was a high-level a.n.a.lyst, but Brent knew that he didn't often bother to dissuade people of that notion if it worked in his favor.

Dex nodded, waiting for the man to continue.

The officer stopped to motion to his partner, who had just come back from canva.s.sing the neighborhood for Sandra's attacker. "Jim. You're going to want to hear this too."

When Jim stepped onto the porch, the first officer continued. "I just talked to Agent Tanner from the FBI, who works with Agent Alexander here." He gestured to Dex. "He wants us to send all forensics from the scene over to him tonight. There's a rush on everything. He thinks there may be a connection between this attack and Miss Barry's stalker from New York."

Jim held up his hand. "From the briefing this morning I only heard that he had a restraining order against him, but there wasn't any mention of him violating it. So what's the FBI's sudden interest in this?"

When Brent bristled, Dex laid a heavy hand on his arm, reminding him to hold his tongue and let this play out.

The first officer stepped in. "We knew he might be in town, but if he's the man the Feds think he is, he's pretty high on their Most Wanted list. If he really is that man, then under at least eight aliases he's kidnapped, tortured, and killed a minimum of nine women in the BDSM and kink scenes, using dungeons around the country to find and target his victims. He's been able to go under the radar since this was only put together lately when links were found between the cases and MOs. This guy's never even been arrested for anything larger than disorderly conduct."

Brent stiffened and his blood ran cold. Dex had said he was digging into Diego's past so they could have a better chance of keeping him away from Sandra, but this was the first Brent had heard about the information he'd uncovered.

If Sandra hadn't run from New York, she might very well have been Diego's next victim. Brent shook his head, unwilling to imagine that outcome.

"In the meantime Agent Tanner has authorized an agent to be stationed outside Miss Barry's hospital room, just to be on the safe side."

A large weight lifted from Brent's shoulders. He would still prefer to be there in person to watch over her, but until he could, having an FBI agent guarding her was a relief.

The man's gaze moved to Dex. "You and Mr. Weston are on the visitors list, as long as her doctor okays it."

"Thank you." Dex reached out and shook hands with the older man. "I appreciate everything you've done."

The first officer ran his hand over his jaw and then over his spiky dark hair before he continued. "However, after the break-in attempt last week, this might not have anything to do with Miss Barry's stalker."

"Break-in attempt?" Brent asked before Dex had the chance.

The officer nodded. "Mich.e.l.le Emery filed a report last week. She and Miss Barry came home and scared off a man trying to break in through the window of the back bedroom that's used as an office. A man matching the description of a local junkie ran, leaving behind drug paraphernalia. We'll know more when we catch up with him. He's been lying low."

Brent clenched his fists. He didn't like knowing there was another man who might also be a danger to Sandra besides Diego. He wished Sandra had confided in him, though if that hadn't moved Mich.e.l.le forward on fixing security for the house, then him pressuring her wouldn't have changed things either. But his inner Dom chafed at the feeling of helplessness.

He hadn't been able to protect Sandra, and that simple fact ate at him like acid.

Dex slapped him on the back, hard, and Brent turned toward his friend. "Hey, now that the police are done with us, the next-door neighbor has offered us tools to board up the back door and the broken window in the office so we can leave the house secured.

"While the EMTs were checking Sandra over, I called Mich.e.l.le and her boss. She's on her way here to check the extent of the damage and see if anything is missing. Her boss is giving her a few days off, with pay." A self-satisfied smile curved his lips, telling Brent that feat had taken some finagling. Which was one of Dex's fortes. "Then, because this could be peripherally related to Diego, as soon as she checks out the house and lets us know what's missing, I've arranged to get her put up in a hotel room while the security measures are being installed here."

Brent nodded as another huge boulder of stress was lifted off of him. "Good. Thanks, Dex. Give me one second." He fished out his phone and called his friend who owned the security company he'd been trying to schedule to take care of Mich.e.l.le's house.

"Hey, Mitch," Brent said when his friend answered. "Sorry to bother you after hours, but that job I told you about last week? It has just become urgent. Can you come out first thing?"

After getting Mitch's agreement, Brent confirmed that his friend had the address and set up a meeting for nine a.m.

If tonight's events and Sandra being in the hospital didn't make Mich.e.l.le see reason, he wasn't sure what he would do. But the meeting was set up. He would figure out what to do if the problem presented itself.

Chapter 18.

Several hours later Brent was finally driving Sandra back to Club Desire. The hospital had released her after running several tests, including a CT scan and all the usual neurological tests. She had only a mild concussion as well as a goose-egg-sized b.u.mp on the back of her head where she had hit the metal grate when she fell. The doctor was concerned because she had been knocked unconscious, but other than the mild concussion she checked out perfectly on every test the hospital staff had run. So the doctor had sent her home and asked that as a precaution someone stay with her tonight.

Brent had been more than happy to volunteer for that duty. When he had seen her fall and go limp, he'd felt as if his chest had been ripped open. He had known he was falling for her, but that incident had proved it. Sandra was more than just a sub to him. More than just his old high school crush.

She made a small sound of pain as she shifted in the pa.s.senger seat. He reached out to lay his hand on her arm. "Are you all right?"

"Yes." She sounded sleepy. "Just b.u.mped the back of my head when we turned. I'm all right."

Guilt stabbed at him, followed by a renewed determination to protect and care for her. She curled more firmly under the blanket and against the small pillow he had grabbed at the gift shop on the way out, and he took care to drive as smoothly as possible.

She would be groggy for quite a while from the pain meds the hospital had given her, and he had gotten the Percocet prescription filled as soon as they left the hospital so she would have the meds when she needed them. He hoped she would sleep and heal. She had already been talking about going to work tomorrow even though the doctor told her to take it easy for several days.

He shook his head. He would call Gary and tell him what had happened. There was no way his friend would expect her to be in the office tomorrow. He also knew how bad Sandra would feel for the next few days while she healed. He had sustained a mild concussion a few years back, and sleep and occasionally getting up to eat and take more meds for the pain were the only things on his mind.

Brent glanced over at her curled against the pa.s.senger seat window in the darkened car and his chest swelled with emotion and warmth that spread throughout his entire body.

It was finally time to admit it. He was in love with her. Not the Sandra from high school, the beauty he had worshipped from afar, but the Sandra Barry who had survived and thrived to become the woman she was today.

He waited for any small trace of denial or even fear, but none came. Only a sense of profound rightness.

He just hoped that someday she could come to love him too. Brent shook his head. He knew she was attracted to him, and that she craved him dominating her and showing her how much pleasure was possible. He was more than happy to be her Dom, and always would be if she still accepted him once she found out the truth; he couldn't help that his emotions had gone well beyond that. He would have to carefully separate that from their D/s relationship until she fell in love with him too.

G.o.d, he hoped she fell in love with him! There was no guarantee, but he didn't want to imagine a future that didn't involve them ending up together. He thought about just telling her the truth about himself right now, getting it all out in the open so they could deal with it. But he bit his tongue. That would be selfish. She was in no condition to deal with that right now, and he knew it.

She moaned softly and burrowed tighter against the door.

Her blanket had fallen down around her shoulders, so he pulled it back up, tucking it around her before turning up the heat.

Rain still pattered against the car in a steady rhythm, but the storm had calmed considerably over the last few hours. The wind had died to only a breeze, and with everything so wet, no dust or leaves were flying around.