Page 2 of Possession

Tomas held back a groan. That boy was going to be the death of him. Six needed to get him in line. “Listen, I don’t know why he would have given you this number, but you’ll just have to leave him a message and?—”

“No, no, wait.” The guy sounded almost frantic. “Please, don’t hang up. He told me to call when I got here, but I made better time than I thought I would, and I’m early.”

A bad feeling crept over Tomas. “What do you mean when you got here?”

“I’m at the gate right now.”

He mouthed a curse and pushed to his feet. His lower back was killing him, and he was really looking forward to going homeand using his inversion table, not dealing with whatever mess Ollie had dragged onto his doorstep. “He’s probably at the party right now. I can let him know you’re trying to get ahold of him if you want to turn back around and go wait at the bar.”

There was a sniffle, and Tomas ran a hand down his face as his heart clenched.

God, he was such a fucking softie.

“Or you can come in and wait in my office while I track him down,” he added on an exhale.

“I would really appreciate that,” the voice said wetly. “I promise I won’t be any trouble.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Tomas said for some reason, the urge to comfort the upset boy overwhelming him. “Let the guy at the gate know I said you could come in.”

“Um. There isn’t a man. I’ve been sitting here trying to get ahold of Ollie for fifteen minutes.”

Fucking useless prospects. “Of course. I’ll come out and get you.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mean to drag you away from the party.”

He held back a sigh. “I’m sure. Just hang tight.”

“Okay.” It was said so softly he almost didn’t catch it.

He started to hang up and then paused and brought the phone receiver back to his ear. “Has Ollie told you about the kind of parties we’ve been hosting at the clubhouse?”

There was a soft, barely there laugh. “Yeah. He told me and Vinnie all about the parties.”

Me and Vinnie.

Realization struck Tomas. He knew who this was. Ollie talked about his two best friends all the time. They were supposed to be down south somewhere—Ollie was never completely clear on where they were—while Vinnie worked a temporary job at a hospital or something.

“Okay, I’ll be right out.”

“Thank you,” Mason said quietly.

Tomas hung up the phone and stretched his neck, grimacing at the loud pops it elicited. He grabbed his hoodie from where he’d tossed it on the end of the couch earlier, tugging it on and then putting his cut on over it. The middle of January in Michigan could be bitterly cold, but just running out to open the gate, he wouldn’t need a jacket or hat—though he could hear his sister’s voice in his head admonishing him.

Considering he was sliding toward fifty at a rapid pace, he figured he was old enough to go out in a sweatshirt if he wanted to.

Though he probably wouldn’ttellJill that.

No point in risking her calling their mom.

As soon as he opened the door to his office, he was smacked in the face with loud music. It had seemed like the door hadn’t been blocking much of the noise, but apparently, he’d been wrong. Some obnoxious techno-sounding pop song was blaring from the clubhouse’s sound system, which let him know Ollie had taken over the controls at some point.

He grimaced and made his way carefully around the groups of people, lifting a hand or nodding at anyone who caught his eye or called out a greeting. Most people were too preoccupied with what was happening in the different staged areas they set up before each party.

If someone had asked him a couple of years ago if his club would one day be hosting regular BDSM parties in their clubhouse so that his members had the opportunity to meet the types of boys and girls they were interested in, he would have laughed in their face.

And yet…

Somehow, his Vice President—and best friend—Demarcus had talked him into it, claiming it would be fun and good forthe members to have a safe space to explore things they were interested in.

---