“I know you wanted to hit Ethan up tomorrow. Too bad, Pipsqueak. I couldn’t wait.”
She scowled. “What are you—”
“Enough,” Ethan snapped. She did know the bastard, was his sister. They’d planned everything all along. She’d played him. Ice closed around his heart, smothering the anger.
He pulled his gaze from Piper. Stepped closer to Jerry. “You’ll get nothing from me.”
The blond’s expression turned ugly. “Listen, asshole. Pay up, or your name will be on the front pages tom—”
Ethan threw a one-two combo, a jab followed by a cross. Jerry’s head whipped back and forth. Roaring in pain, the man lunged forward, swinging wildly.
Ethan blocked, and his sharp double jab flattened the wanker’s nose. As blood spurted, Ethan delivered a cross, followed by a solid left hook.
Ribs cracking under the impact, Jerry shouted in pain. Ethan finished with a hard right uppercut to the arsehole’s jaw that knocked him sprawling on the sidewalk.
“What the fucking-duck is going on?” Dixon shouted. He stood beside Piper who hadn’t moved.
Hands over her mouth, she stared at her brother. She didn’t even look at Ethan. It was quite obvious where her loyalty lay.
He waited…waited for her to defend herself.
Face dead white, she was wholly focused on Jerry.
Ethan’s last forlorn hope died. Pushing his warring emotions aside, he considered the blackmail attempt. Would the two try to pursue this shit further?
They’d have a surprise coming if they did. Last time, he’d left his home. Left his country. Not again, dammit. Never again.
“Piper.” No response. He let the raging anger inside him edge his voice. “Ms. Delaney.”
Her eyes were dazed, but her gaze lifted to his hands, his face. She flinched—so fucking guilty—then retreated a step in fear. Of him.
She should be afraid.
The ice storm of emotions inside him chilled his voice. “Stay away from me, or we’ll see how you look in police handcuffs.”
He started to move, then stopped. “You can consider Chatelaines’ contract terminated.”
* * *
A Master stood on the sidewalk, shrouded in the fog. His eyes were cold, so filled with fury and—hate—that everything inside Piper shriveled in fear. Her shoulders hunched. She stumbled back.
After a long second, he turned and walked away. Blood dripped from his fists, leaving horrible spots on the dirty gray sidewalk.
She couldn’t breathe.
“Fucking-A, that was intense.” The voice came through the pounding of her pulse. Someone took her hand. “What in the dragon’s dick was that about?”
There was no air in the world.
Someone lay on the pavement. Blood over his face. So, so red. Awful. The darkness that had filled the street at the sounds of a beating now enclosed her completely, crushing her ribs with a brutal grip. No air. No light.
“Piper, hey, it’s all right. You’re okay.” An arm came around her shoulder, shook her slightly. “I got you. Slow that breathing down, girlfriend. Slooooow.”
Dixon. It was Dix. Fighting the crushing terror, she pursed her lips and exhaled against the barrier. Touch. She opened and closed her hands. Sound. Heard groaning—and flinched. Sight. Opened her eyes to fog, to Dixon’s worried face.
The shadows receded slowly, even as fear still shook her so hard her bones rattled. Cold sweat covered her face.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, there you are, Pipster.” Dixon’s hands were on her shoulders. “Stay with me.”
Her legs wobbled, but she was upright. “Thanks, Dix.”
He touched his forehead to hers and moved to stand beside her. So she could see.
See her stepbrother moaning on the sidewalk, hands pressed to his face.
Ethan had hit him and hit him. So hard.
Jerry saw her staring. “Get over here and help me. Jesus fucking Christ.”
Her thoughts felt thicker than the fog wrapping the street in gray. Ethan wouldn’t assault someone out of the blue. Why was Jerry even here? “What did you say to him, Jerry?”
“Nothin’. Jesus, bitch, he attacked me,” Jerry snarled.
Why wouldn’t her head work? Think, Piper. She and Dixon had arrived, seen Jerry, and she’d been furious. Only Jerry’d said something…something about Ethan and tomorrow. Ethan had told Jerry, “You’ll get nothing from me.”
That was it. Horror speared through her ribs and straight into her heart. “You are”—her lips were numb, her throat so dry her voice cracked—“always conning people out of money. Did you try that on Ethan?”
“No shit, seriously?” Dix stared at Jerry. “Did you eat an extra bowl of stupid this morning?”
Jerry ignored him and sneered at her. “Get a grip. I didn’t do anything.”
“You did. Oh, you did.” Memories sucked her into the muck of the past. “Yeah, I gave your brother money. Jerry said he’d tell your father I fucked you even though we didn’t.” “I paid off your brother. He said he’d get me kicked off the football team.” “I gave your stepbrother twenty…”
Jerry had tried to blackmail Ethan.
Her Ethan.
Incandescent rage moved her forward. Her foot slammed into his face, right where Ethan had punched him. The ghastly sound and feel made her stagger back.
She’d kicked a person. Bile rose into her throat so fast, she gagged.
Grabbing her arm, Dixon let out a hoot of approval. “Go, girl.”
“Cunt!” Jerry grabbed her ankle.
“Don’t. Touch. Her.” With a low growl, Dix stomped on his hand.
Jerry yelped. His attempt to rise was defeated when Dix put more weight on the trapped hand. “Sis. Pipsqueak, you know me. I wouldn’t—”
Fury filled her. “You would.” When he punched at Dix’s leg, Piper snap-kicked Jerry in the chest.
At his yell of pain, sickness ran through her, and she shoved it down. Jerry had hurt Ethan. “You tried to con him out of money, didn’t you?”
Gaze averted, he gave a single nod.
“You, you stupid…” She remembered the ice in Ethan’s eyes…as he looked at her. As he’d spoken. “Ms. Delaney.”
Oh, no, no, no.
“He…” Her voice cracked. “Ethan thinks I helped you.” A sound of pain, like a wounded dog, broke from her, and she reeled back.
“Pips, wait.” Dixon came after her.
Holding his ribs, Jerry pushed to his feet and retreated a few steps. “Yeah, he thinks you planned it. Gag on that, bitch.” Holding his ribs, he lurched down the sidewalk, and the fog swallowed him up.
She didn’t move. Ethan had believed Jerry. He thought she was after his…his money?
“Piper?” Dixon’s concerned face came between her and the world. He took her hand. “Girlfriend.”
“Ethan didn’t even ask me if I was part of Jerry’s plan,” she whispered.
Dix’s brows drew together. “He…didn’t.”
“He believed Jerry. Believed everything Jerry said.” She pulled in a shuddering breath. “I thought we had…something. I trusted him, Dix.”
The fog was closing in, blurring the buildings, the lights.
“He didn’t trust me at all, did he?”
As pain hollowed out her heart, she crumpled to her knees and wept.
In his car, Jerry didn’t take his foot off the gas pedal for a good half-mile. His nose was busted. His head throbbed like crazy. His chest hurt, his ribs, his jaw. Everything.
Fuck, but that goddamned Brit had hard fists.
But he’d gotten Worthington good. Online, Jerry’d found the newspaper stories about the bastard and his ex. How perfect was it to make Worthington think Piper was just like her? The pain in the Brit’s face had been glorious.
Feeling the trickle of blood, Jerry used his shirt to wipe his face. That fucking bastard.
And that fucking bitch, too. Wimpy, whiny Piper. Always following him around when they
were kids, trying to get him to like her. As if. So pathetic.
When she’d gone to college, Dad kept saying: Piper is in college. Why aren’t you?
Damn her. But she’d paid—and the comparisons had stopped when she dropped out of school. When she disappeared.
Back then, she read romances—ones full of seriously kinky shit—so he’d introduced her to the most sadistic asshole he knew.
Heh, Serna’d been so pumped at the new tasty treat that he’d tossed Jerry a grand.
Jerry’s grin disappeared as pain stabbed into his face, and he moaned. Fucking Worthington. Fucking bitch.
A shame Serna hadn’t killed her.
When Jerry ran into Serna in Wichita last month, the sadist said his “property” had run away years before. He wanted her back. Bad. Was still searching for her. Jerry hadn’t even thought of looking for her until then.
Pulling over, he blotted the blood from his face. Saw the red on his shirt. Rage flooded him. The bitch would regret kicking him.
He had a feeling Master Serna would be pissed-the-fuck-off to find out his ex-property was hanging out in a BDSM club.
Yes, the sadist would pay good money for that tidbit of information.
Once at home, Ethan ran cold water over his bloodied knuckles. It’d been a while since he’d fought without gloves or strapping. Even so, he should have hit the arsehole harder and busted more than his nose.
Hell. Ethan glanced in the mirror, seeing the harsh lines in his face, seeing the idiot who’d trusted a woman. Again. When would he learn?
Piper Delaney had played him like a violin. Had set him up for blackmail. The pain in his heart was far worse than the ache in his knuckles. He’d trusted her. He’d been well on the way to more than just liking her. He’d cared for her.
And she’d shared everything with her brother, from chocolates to information.
Just as Nicola had done with Bradley.
Under the cold water, Ethan’s hands fisted as he remembered Nicola’s face when he’d confronted her. Her dismay that he’d discovered what she and her cousin had planned. Her whisper as she confessed that although she cared for Ethan, her loyalty to her cousin was stronger.
Just as Piper’s was for her arsehole brother.
In the living room, Ethan dropped down in a chair.
Jumping onto his lap, Churchill stared up as if wondering what was wrong. Such big blue eyes.
Piper’s eyes were dark brown and the most expressive eyes Ethan had ever seen. Even when trying to hide something, she couldn’t. In fact, he doubted Piper could lie to even a five-year-old and get away with it.
Like a multi-legged insect, misgivings crept into his brain. Because, if Piper couldn’t lie, how could she have deceived him enough to set up a con game? Being a Dom and businessman for so many years, he wasn’t easy to mislead.
Now, Jerry—he’d lie as easily as he’d walk. Could that git have made up a tale about being her brother?
No, she’d recognized the bastard and spoken to him about hitting Ethan up tomorrow.
He frowned. Actually, those had been Jerry’s words. Piper had hardly said anything, in fact. “I told you—” After Jerry had spoken, she’d looked confused. “What are you—”
Ethan stroked Churchill’s soft fur. “I don’t know, PM. I might have missed something.” Because just the thought of being lied to again, of being wanted for his money had sent fury into his bloodstream. He’d admit he was thin-skinned when it came to the subject.
Could he have over-reacted?
He ran his hand down the cat’s soft fur as he admitted, “I was quite angry and said some rather foul things to Piper.”
In feline censure, Churchill kneaded Ethan’s thighs hard enough his claws pricked skin.
“Jerry knew that I’m a Dom called Sir Ethan,” Ethan explained. “He knew I called her a bratty little subbie. He said she gave him the chocolate I bought her.”
Hmm.
Aside from those tidbits, Jerry hadn’t related any particularly intimate or kinky details.
“Bollocks, did I jump too quickly to believing the knobhead?” Now that he was thinking rather than reacting, he was questioning everything. Again.
Piper Delaney just didn’t feel like a liar or con artist. She had too much integrity and courage.
Ethan rubbed the ache that had centered behind his ribcage.
All those years ago, even when terrified of Serna, she’d acted to rescue a kitten. More recently, she’d tried to intercede for Angel. Shared her fears with Ethan. Opened her soul.
Blackmail? No, not Piper. The numbers weren’t adding up. The engine was misfiring.
Time to find out why.
“Thanks for the escort service.” At the door to her apartment, Piper patted Dixon’s hand and tried to smile at Lindsey. “Thank you, and I’m sorry. Will Xavier be angry?”
“Pffft. He’d be angrier if I hadn’t helped.” Hearing about the fight on the sidewalk, Lindsey had abandoned her reception duties and insisted on making sure Piper got home. “Put a sock in it, girlfriend.”
She gently pushed Piper inside.
Stopping just inside the doorway, Piper stared as her two friends walked past her and into the apartment. Her eyes burned with unshed tears, and her throat felt as if a rock was stuck in there. They needed to leave. She couldn’t hold it together much longer
Ethan believed she tried to blackmail him.
“Guys. I don’t need any more help, and I’m going to—”
“Bawl your head off. I would, too,” Dixon tossed his coat over a chair. “That’s why we’re staying.”
“Alcohol.” Lindsey was in the kitchen. “Where is it?”
“Pip’s a rum girl. It’s over the microwave.” Dixon dragged Piper across the room, dropped onto the couch, and pulled her down next to him.
“Dix.” Piper searched for the right way to reassure and send her friends home, but the words weren’t there. She didn’t want to be alone. Some people were hide-in-a-cave types, but not her. She had other friends she could call, but none who could understand about Sir Ethan, about a D/s relationship the way Dixon and Lindsey would.
“He was a total asshole,” Dix stated.
“Yeah.” Lindsey had the Bayou spiced rum bottle under one arm and carried a tray with a six-pack of cola and three tall ice-filled glasses. She unloaded everything onto the vintage steamer trunk that served as a coffee table. “I think I’m glad I never had a brother.”
Dix took the bottle of rum and started pouring. “Not the stepling. I meant that bastard, Sir Ethan.”
“Wait—what?” Lindsey dragged a chair closer and sat, tugging her denim maxi-dress straight. “You told me her brother upset her. It was Ethan? Then where is he?”
The brunette looked around as if the Dom would suddenly appear.
“Gone.” There was no Ethan, not any more. Just an aching hollow place in Piper’s heart. “He’s…”
All the stifled sobs broke loose at once. She clapped her hands over her mouth as tears scalded her cheeks.
Slinging an arm around her, Dixon pulled her against his slender frame. “Cry it out, Pips. I would. Ratfarts, but between your dickweed brother and dickmunch Dom, you had an incredulously-crummy night.”
The sympathy in his voice made her cry even harder.
It hurt. It hurt so much.
All her life, her parents had taken Jerry’s side. He’d talk and talk, and by the time he finished, they’d agree with him. He was the perfect one. If he got into trouble for anything, he’d cast the blame on her, and they’d believe him.
He’d mattered to them; she never had.
She’d thought maybe…maybe she mattered to Ethan. That he liked her some. More than some, even.
But he’d believed Jerry, too.
“…then Ethan got all pissed-off.” Dix was explaining what’d happened to Lindsey.
“The brother said Piper was his partner. To blackmail Ethan?” Lindsey asked in disbelief.
“Exactamento. Ethan busting Jerry’s nose was a beee-u-tee-ful sight. Only then our dumbass Dom cuts Pips to shreds and walks away. He didn’t even ask her any questions or anything.”
“Criminy.” Lindsey made a disparaging sound. “I hardly know her, and I know she wouldn’t do something like that.”
“See? That’s what I’m talking about.” Dix shook Piper. “Here, sweets, drink some of this. You know, I’m starting to like this rum stuff.”
A glass was tucked in Piper’s hand.
As Piper sat up, Lindsey handed over several tissues before grinning.
“What?” Piper sniffled and wiped her eyes. “What’s funny?”
“It’s a real girl thing to notice, but you’re one of those gorgeous criers. If Abby cries, she gets all beet-red and splotchy. I’m not much better.”
Despite the pain in her chest, Piper found a laugh surfacing. Because it was something only a friend would say. “Well, thank God for small favors, right?”
“That’s the spirit.” Dix poured more rum in his glass, ignoring the soda. “Speaking of small, it’s time for sex curses.”
“Sex what?” Piper eyed him over the rim of her drink.
Dix lifted his glass and said with relish, “May Sir Ethan’s dick shrivel up and fall off.”
“Starting with an oldie, hmm? My turn.” Lindsey clinked her glass against his. “May Sir Ethan’s dick shrink until he has to wear glasses to find it.”
Piper could see where this was going. Two sets of expectant eyes settled on her. “Seriously?”
“You bet, pet.” Dix put a finger under her glass and lifted. “Take a gulp and subbie up.”
It was a diversion, but it worked. Reality hurt too much to face right now. She frowned, trying to remember the old Middle Eastern curse. “May the fleas of a thousand camels infest his pubic hair and his arms be too short to scratch.”
Lindsey nodded solemn approval. “It’s a classic for a reason.”
Dix grinned. “May his cock clog with cum and require a plumber’s drain-snake to rooter out.”