Page 6 of Their Domme

They’d thrown me out for being bisexual, but they were involved in a child trafficking ring. Where the fuck did they get their righteous sense of superiority from? Had my brother even been safe at home? Had I failed him so completely by leaving him behind in what passed for their “care”? If I thought I’d felt cold before, that was fucking nothing compared to the ice rushing in my veins now.

Many people said their anger ran hot, scorching through their veins until they had no choice but to explode, trying to get that heat out from under their skin. But mine was often cold, a source that had once numbed my inhibitions until the day I’d long run out of those. Right now, the icy anger gave me a hint of solace, letting me put aside the family baggage I would need to deal with in order to finish taking care of my guest.

Moving the prod to her chest, I electrocuted her again, the scent of burnt flesh making me drop the cattle prod to the ground. I enjoyed the pain it inflicted on this woman who so sorely deserved it, but that would never be a pleasant smell. Grabbing the knife I always kept strapped to my thigh, I stabbed her in the eye, the warmth of her blood and the gel-like liquid from her eye covering my hand. It centered me somehow, knowing that the pain I felt was being experienced, given life—just not through me.

In the month I had been gone from my men, I had been searching for answers. It wasn’t just my safety hanging in the balance; it was theirs, and the baby’s. I hated being away from them, and I knew they would give me hell when I came back… because Ididplan to come back. I just hoped that they understood after they worked through their anger.

They would burn down the world to save me. How could I give them anything less?

Pulling the knife out of her, I shook it, flinging off the fleshy bits, as I walked over to the cabinet. This blade deserved a careful cleaning. It was the one Vas had given me after carving his name into my inner thigh. It was my connection to him, to all of them, besides the baby growing inside of me, and I always kept it close.

Right now, I couldn’t let myself get lost in the yearning I had for my men. I had to deal with the news Karen had shared with me, but my father’s name, my mother’s… They meant that the place I had been avoiding was where I would need to go. Millfield, Vermont was where this was going to play out, or at least some of it. My hometown had answers, and as much as I would rather raze the place to the ground than set foot back on its soil, I needed those answers first.

But I can’t do it alone.

I wasn’t ready to go back to my men yet. The puzzle of my stalker was something I hadn’t figured out, and everything I had done so far, I couldn’t throw it all away. My friend who had helped me stay under the radar had been MIA for the past four days, which I knew meant trouble. This way of life was hard, brutal, and mostly short-lived, so I needed to think of other options.

My brain immediately started running through my connections. I knew it was time to call them, or at leastsomeof them. Ignoring the dead woman and the cries from my waiting victims in the other room, I walked upstairs, not caring that I was naked and covered in blood and other bits. Within seconds, I was standing in the kitchen, dialing a number on my burner phone.

By the second ring, a smooth, professional voice answered, “Roderick.”

“Is Em back in Boston?” I asked, my voice empty. I was sidestepping the small talk, I knew that, but I just didn’t have it in me to play that game right now.

There was a long pause, then the man on the other end cleared his throat. “Nicholette. It’s good to hear from you again. Emmerich is back on the East Coast, yes. He’s busy setting up business contacts now that he is the head of the Family.”

“The king is dead, long live the king.” I laughed, threading a bloody hand through my hair. “Congrats to him. Any updates on what’s going on?” My question might be vague, but he would know what I was referring to.

“Your men aren’t the only ones tearing apart the city looking for you. Detective Lewis is calling me for updates. He wants to question you.”

“He’s still on the force?”

“Yes.” Roderick sounded frustrated, and I heard papers rustling on his end of the line. “His union rep was really good. Besides a slap on the wrist, nothing was done about his conduct with you.”

“Not surprising,” I sighed. “Prostitute’s word against a detective’s.”

“Detective Allen has also reached out to speak with you about some murders that happened.” I swallowed hard at that, flashes of the pictures plastered all over my old apartment flickering across my mind’s eye.

“Set up a time. Next week at your office. I’ll stop by and get details soon.”

“I can do that.”

“Thanks.”

“Nicholette? If you need any help, I’m here.”

“A full-service lawyer?” I joked, but Roderick just hummed.

“I am for those on the list.” I chewed on my lip, heart pounding in my head as I placed a hand over my stomach. It had started to turn during this conversation.Please don’t get sick. “If you need me to pick you up, or if you need a place to stay, let me know.”

I turned the offer of help over in my head. Would this backfire on both of us if I took him up on it? “I’ll keep that in mind for the future. Thank you.”

Click.

I hung up the phone without waiting for him to say anything else, then I turned the burner off. I couldn’t take the chance of someone tracing any of my calls. Coming out of my hideaway wasn’t something I was looking forward to. I had kept myself isolated but informed while hunting down connections in the trafficking ring, starting with William and working my way up the ladder.

My stomach turned, and I reached for a nearby drawer, pulling out the box of saltines I had gotten yesterday. The sleeve was ripped open with care, then I shoved a cracker into my mouth to help settle my nausea. I thought over how I would handle leaving, trying to figure out what needed to be done before I could head out. I still had a few more people waiting downstairs. I’d heard their screams and crying while questioning Karen, but the sounds were more annoying than anything. Padding through the kitchen, I went to the bathroom, and as I washed my hands, I looked myself over. My hair was a tangled mess, there were black circles under my eyes, and saying I looked sick was an understatement. Ever since I had left, my sleep was shit. I wished I could blame it on morning sickness, but in reality, it was because sleeping alone didn’t hold the same appeal it used to.

As my nausea settled, I clenched my hand on my stomach. I still couldn't believe that I was pregnant, much less that I wasstillpregnant. I remembered walking into the clinic and what had followed. The impersonal doctor had swiftly removed the IUD with a small warning about me having a chance of miscarriage due to the procedure. Needless to say, life apparently had other plans for me because I stayed pregnant. Morning sickness became all-day sickness. There was nothing like throwing up on people to get them to give you answers. It had been disgusting… but it worked. I wrinkled my nose, remembering how I’d had to hose the body down before I disposed of it.

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