Vicious Carousel

  Nolan wasn’t sure if this was exactly the right way to handle this, the healthy way to go with her fragile emotional state, but if it helped her, he wouldn’t argue with it.

  She mumbled something against Kenny’s chest.

  “What was that, sweetie?”

  “Is that my collar?” she asked.

  Now the men’s gazes met.

  Nolan honestly didn’t know what to say. Kenny had gotten them this far, so he’d let him answer it.

  “What do you want it to be?” Kenny asked her.

  “I want to feel safe again,” she whispered.

  “What would make you feel safe?”

  Nolan wasn’t sure if she’d answer at first.

  Then, “I want to be under your protection. Both of you,” she said.

  Kenny gently turned her to face Nolan and unhooked the clasp on the necklace. Nolan reached up and held her hair back while Kenny fastened the necklace around her neck.

  “Then you wear this for us,” Kenny said. “When you don’t feel safe, you touch it, you hold it. You think about us protecting you. You think about how you trust us, and how you trust Tilly and June and Eliza, and our other friends, and how they’ll protect you, too.”

  Nolan didn’t miss that Kenny didn’t call it a collar.

  She nodded, looking down at it, touching the shark’s tooth with her finger.

  “We can’t make you a lot of promises right now,” Kenny said. “But these two promises, we can make and we will keep. We won’t punish you, and we will protect you.”

  She looked up and met Nolan’s gaze.

  He remembered exactly how he’d felt the first time he’d looked into Kenny’s eyes and knew he loved the man. The visceral shot of adrenaline, the warmth spreading through him, the soul-deep certainty.

  Fuck.

  Falling in love with her was dangerous. She had a long road ahead of her, and she might not even want them like that when she got to the end of it.

  Unfortunately, he knew.

  He also knew he’d keep those two promises, too.

  “Here’s our only other rule right now,” Kenny continued. “Never lie to us. We’ll never lie to you, and you never lie to us. Okay? No punishments, and no lying.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she answered, still staring into Nolan’s eyes, and he wasn’t sure if she even realized what she’d said, what she’d added to the end of her response.

  She leaned in and hugged him. Nolan looked into Kenny’s brown gaze and saw the mix of love and murder boiling there, too.

  They were screwed. So, so fucking screwed. She didn’t even know it.

  She was living with two men who absolutely would, right or wrong, kill or die for her, who were falling headlong in love for her…

  And who couldn’t dare admit it to her unless she made it to a healthier point in her healing and told them first.

  * * * *

  After dinner, they let her help them do the dishes. Nolan noticed how after she’d recovered from the episode, she seemed lighter, happier.

  And she frequently reached up and touched the necklace.

  After dinner, they settled in on the couch to watch TV, Betsy snuggled between them, chatting, and talking, and then…

  Then she went quiet. When Nolan looked, he realized she’d fallen asleep.

  His gaze met Kenny’s.

  Wow, Nolan silently mouthed.

  Kenny sadly nodded.

  He’d meant all of it, from her breakdown to how she’d literally passed out sitting there. Exhaustion, most likely.

  Neither man had the heart to move and disturb her, but finally, around eleven, Nolan gently spoke. “Bets, sweetie, it’s bed time.”

  She didn’t stir at first. He didn’t want to startle her by moving, but he and Kenny couldn’t spend the night on the couch with her, either. They had to work in the morning.

  Kenny grabbed the remote and turned the TV off. “Sweetie, it’s time to go to bed,” he said.

  She finally stirred, looking out of it.

  “Bed time,” Nolan said.

  She nodded, but didn’t say anything.

  He wasn’t even sure if she was really awake.

  Moving carefully, the men extricated themselves and stood, both holding a hand out to her.

  She stared at them for a minute as if disoriented. For a moment, Nolan wondered if her concussion was having a sudden delayed effect on her.

  “Did you both mean it?” she asked.

  “Mean what?” Kenny asked.

  “That the only rule is no lying?”

  The men nodded.

  “And no punishments?”

  “No punishments,” Nolan said. “Maybe one day in the future if you ask nicely there might be funishment play, but never, ever any real punishments. Not from us. We don’t get off on that. If it’s not consensual, it completely kills the chubby,” he added, trying to lighten the mood.

  That earned him a sleepy smile. She took their hands and let them help her up, then they escorted her to her bedroom door, but didn’t go any farther.

  “Try to get some sleep tonight,” Nolan said.

  “Thanks. You, too.” She reached up to the necklace. “Thank you for this. Both of you. It means a lot to me.”

  They waited until she’d closed the door behind her before going to their own room. Inside, Nolan fell back onto their bed and stared at the ceiling.

  “Holy. Fucking. Crap.”

  Kenny collapsed next to him. “You can say that again. Who’d have thought a damn five-dollar necklace would bring her out of that?”

  “You know we basically collared her tonight, right?”

  “I didn’t call it a collar.”

  “I know that and you know that, but I think for all intents and purposes, we just collared her. At least we did in her mind.”

  Kenny rolled on top of him. “Would that be the worst thing in the world?”

  Nolan couldn’t stop what he said next. “It is if she leaves us in the future even though we’re both in love with her already.”

  Kenny stared down into his eyes, looking ready to refute that statement when he winced and sat up, straddling him. “Fuck,” he whispered. “I am in love with her. When the fuck did that happen?”

  Nolan propped himself up on his elbows. “I don’t know, but it did. Now we’re screwed.”

  “Shit.” Kenny slumped back on his heels. “Tilly’s gonna fucking kill us.”

  “No, Tilly’s not going to kill us,” Nolan said. “We might feel like killing ourselves if we fuck this up and either hurt Betsy or drive her away before she’s stable enough to even think about something like that with us, though. We have to be even more careful with her. Walk that line of friends and protectors without trying to nudge her into a relationship yet. Not now, anyways.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Betsy had almost been afraid at first to admit what happened to Tilly when they Skyped the next morning.

  Tilly looked tired, even though it was eight o’clock LA time.

  Tilly squinted at the screen. “Lean in. Let me see it.”

  Betsy leaned in closer to the webcam on her laptop so Tilly could get a better look at the necklace.

  “But they didn’t say they were collaring you?”

  She shook her head.

  Tilly smiled. “Then it’s all good. I’ll talk to them and suss things out, but I suspect it was a coincidence, like they said. A fortunate one for you.” Her smile faded. “Make sure you write down what happened, though. Talk to the counsellor about it.”

  “I will.”

  “Part of me’s halfway tempted to order Landry and Cris to go pay that asshole’s bail just so Eliza and June can take a whack at him. Along with everyone else.” She smiled. “I’d have an alibi. I’m here.”

  “How do I know if I’m making a mistake?”

  “A mistake in what, trusting the guys?”

  She nodded.

  “If you’re making a mistake trusting them, then there are a bunch o
f us making it right along with you,” Tilly said. “It’s not like only one of us thinks they’re okay. I’ve known several of their past play partners. They’re always on good terms with the guys, never anything bad to say, no rumblings about them, no whispers, no one dropping out of the local scene because of them, or avoiding them. They’re the real deal.”

  Tilly leveled a finger at her in the camera. “But,” she emphasized, “remember. If you end up wanting to play with them, don’t just go falling in love with them because they’ve rescued you and you’re bonded to them. Try to keep some perspective. There is no rush.”

  She gave Tilly a salute. “Yes, Ma’am.”

  Tilly had been taking a sip of coffee and nearly laughed it all over her computer. “Smart-assed subbie girl. Listen to me, I will be the first one to tell you if you’re making a mistake. You can always text me if you need to. Call me. Anything. I’ll be your voice of reason until you trust yourself again.”

  “How long?”

  “For as long as you need me.”

  “No, I meant, how long until I trust myself again?” She caught herself fingering the necklace. Yes, she knew it wasn’t expensive. And that morning at breakfast, when she asked Kenny about it, where he’d gotten it, he’d told her it’d been an impulse buy the afternoon before.

  Coincidence.

  A happy one, but still.

  “You know,” Tilly finally said, “if I had that answer for you, I could make myself rich as a counsellor. I don’t have an answer for you. At some point you have to learn to trust yourself again, because in the end, no matter how much our loved ones love us, we are the only ones we can absolutely be certain we can trust.”

  * * * *

  Betsy was ready to go when Eliza came to pick her up at four thirty. As instructed, she wore yoga pants and a T-shirt. The instructor was going to work one-on-one with Betsy for a couple of hours before class, teach her some moves, help her with the basics.

  Betsy had never taken a self-defense class before, even though she’d always meant to.

  Before.

  Then after she was with Jack, there was never any extra money for anything she wanted to do, and the one time she’d mentioned it, when they were having a class at Venture for women, he’d angrily asked if she was questioning his ability to take care of her.

  Which had ended up with him punishing her for that.

  Her mood swings today, in light of what had happened yesterday, were anger and feeling stupid.

  Eliza noticed the necklace. “You might want to take that off before we get started so it doesn’t get broken.”

  “Good point.” She’d started to protest, that she couldn’t take it off.

  That it was her collar.

  But it wasn’t her collar.

  Danger.

  Yes, she wasn’t so blind she couldn’t see what everyone was warning her about, not to fall hard for the men because, reasons.

  Rebound.

  Rescuing.

  Really damn hawt, but still, no.

  Not now.

  She removed it and slipped it into her wallet. The only thing in there besides her driver’s license and Social Security card.

  Not even any money of her own.

  She left it in her purse locked in Eliza’s trunk and followed her friend inside. By the time they finally left at seven, Betsy was both sore again in body in places she hadn’t been sore before, and yet healed mentally in some ways.

  The instructor, using Eliza first as her demo partner, had shown Betsy several things. And, of course, Betsy scoffed that she’d be able to do any of them.

  Until she did.

  By the time class started, Betsy was raring to go, with Eliza as her sparring partner.

  She actually didn’t feel…powerless anymore.

  Jack had been larger and stronger than her. Had she known some of these moves, sure, maybe she could have defended herself. The problem was, she’d willingly let him in and let him mentally and emotionally beat her down long before the impact play crossed the line to physical abuse.

  She also knew what she had to do. She did feel safe with the men. She did feel protected with them.

  And she did feel attracted to them.

  But she would have to first get a place of her own before she could ever commit to them as more than a play partner or friend. She needed to live on her own once more, prove to herself that she could do it.

  Now if she could get a job to make that happen.

  * * * *

  Betsy awoke Friday to an e-mail from Kenny’s mom, telling her she had an interview appointment with the company she worked for at one o’clock Monday afternoon. When Betsy read that on her phone, she let out a squeal that must have terrified the poor men, because they came bolting from their room with sopping wet hair and towels wrapped around their hips.

  She held up the phone when they ran into the kitchen. “Mom says I have an interview Monday!”

  “Hey! That’s great!” Kenny gave her a one-armed, slightly damp hug, followed by Nolan. Kenny’s mom had stopped by several times for dinner or just to visit with her, to check on her and see how she was doing.

  Calling her Mom felt right, even if she did now have her own mom back in her life.

  Her own mom couldn’t hug her from Virginia, but Michelle could.

  The men were just getting ready to leave when Betsy received a notice on her phone of a new e-mail.

  She let out another squeal of delight.

  The men turned. “Yes?” they said.

  “I have an appointment at three today at a real estate place on Longboat Key!”

  “Great!” Kenny said. “Make sure you tell us how it goes.”

  “I will!” She hugged them both, already thinking about what she’d wear. With heavy makeup and her hair loose, it concealed the worst of what damage still remained. She’d decided she would tell most of the truth, because if a prospective employer ran a Google search on her name, it would come up tied to Jack’s case.

  The Tilly-approved short and sweet version was that she was in the process of leaving her abusive ex to move in with friends when he beat her up. It was honest, it was close enough to the truth to garner sympathy without getting into gory details, and hopefully would let interviewers know she had extricated herself from that situation and it wouldn’t prove a distraction to her doing her job.

  If they asked about the BDSM accusations on Jack’s part, Ed gave her the perfect out there—because it was a pending legal case, her attorney had advised her not to comment on any aspects of it other than what she’d just said.

  She called Loren to let her know about it in case that would mess up her schedule. Betsy really wanted the job where Kenny’s mom worked, but she would take any job at this point.

  Just the fact that she was getting interviews now gave her a renewed sense of hope and purpose.

  And when she Skyped with Tilly a little later, Tilly had not only given her a virtual high-five via webcam, but had also helped her pick which outfit to wear.

  “If I get the job out there, I’m not sure what to do about transportation,” she said. “I don’t think the county bus service goes out there.”

  “Don’t sweat it. Lucas and Leigh offered to buy you a car.”

  Betsy shook her head. “I appreciate that, and please tell them that for me, but that’s too much. I need to be able to afford a car and the insurance on my own. You all have already done so much for me and now it’s time for me to stand on my feet as much as possible. My parents offered to co-sign a car loan for me, and even that is something I’d rather avoid if I can.”

  “I can respect that. But if you change your mind, the offer’s open.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d accept borrowing my car, either, would you? It’s just sitting there in my driveway.”

  “Thank you, but I can’t. No insurance.”

  “Ah.”

  “If I need to, I’ll see if I can work out a deal with eve
ryone here for a few weeks, give them gas money and extra money for their time, until I get a couple of paychecks. I’ll even take a five-hundred-dollar beater without AC. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve driven a car?”

  Tilly frowned. “How long?”

  “Months. Since he made me sell mine. I wasn’t allowed to drive.”

  “Wow.”

  She fingered her necklace. “Promise me you’ll smack me hard in the bad way if you ever see me making stupid decisions like that again, please?”

  Tilly held up a hand. “I swear. Except there might be a line in front of me.” She smiled.

  “That’s fine.” They fell silent for a moment.

  “This is good change,” Tilly told her.

  “That’s freaky.”

  “I could see the fear in your expression. You’re worried, probably for a lot of reasons. The worst that can happen today is you don’t get the job.” Tilly shrugged. “You’re no worse off if that happens. But the best-case scenario is you get the job and it’s that next step to you getting Elizabeth Lambert back on course.”

  * * * *

  The guy who interviewed her at the real estate office didn’t come right out and ask her about the court case, but Betsy could tell from the questions he did ask and the way that he talked that he was aware of it. Things like her current relationship status, her current living arrangements. Personal questions that had nothing to do with her previous job experience or work skills.

  Oddball questions.

  It irritated her.

  And it set off some interesting warning bells inside her.

  By the time she shook hands with him nearly an hour later, Betsy felt glad to be out of the office and back in the safety of Loren’s car.

  “What’s wrong?” Loren immediately asked. “Did you not get it?”

  “I don’t know. He said he’d let me know next week.”

  “Then what’s wrong?”

  “I…” She felt silly. And how much of her feelings were paranoia based on her situation?

  Loren arched an eyebrow at her.

  Betsy finally went over what happened and her feelings on the matter, feeling even less good about it when she watched Loren’s expression darken.