Walt translated for the mom, who finally seemed to relax a little and nodded.
Apparently, several kids were arrested for a series of break-ins, and another witness had named the boy as being a friend of some of them, possibly even being with them immediately after one of the crimes.
As the mother looked on, Walt had to calm her down again as she became more enraged and started yelling at her son—her ASL fast, choppy, and angry—as the boy retreated in his chair.
Walt translated for Kimbra and the detectives and tried his best not to laugh at the poor kid. “What did I tell you about hanging out with those boys? I warned you last month if I caught you hanging out with them again you’d be grounded until you graduate high school. Did you not believe me? Congratulations. You just lost your freedom. You answer all their questions right now.”
One of the detectives unsuccessfully disguised his laughter as a coughing fit. Two hours later, Charlie had given up his friends, and the mom had hugged both Kimbra and Walt after apologizing to the detectives and promising to make sure her son followed up with them with whatever they needed.
The boy was released to the custody of his mother—although to Walt it looked like he would have almost preferred he stayed in jail. She was still ranting at him in ASL as they walked out of the building.
Kimbra finished up with the detectives and they headed back to her car, her briefcase slung over her shoulder.
“Thanks, Walt. Sorry to drag you out on a Friday night.”
“Lucky for you I didn’t have a date.”
She arched an eyebrow at him and made finger quotes in the air.
“Hey, I date, on occasion.”
“An occasion that doesn’t require you meet them at Venture?”
“Aw, you jealous?”
They’d reached her car and she smiled at him over the top of it. “Hell. Nah.”
She did stop on the way home at his favorite ice cream shop and bought him a sundae. As they sat in one corner and ate their desserts, she eyed him. “So how is your personal life?”
“How do you think?”
She swallowed another spoonful of pistachio ice cream. “From your grouchiness, I’d say you’re still single and looking.”
“And whose fault is that?”
“Hey, when was the last fight we had, boo?”
“I’m not arguing with you, Counselor. Just sayin’.”
“Momma’s still pissed off at me,” she admitted. “Twelve years later, she’s still askin’ me, ‘When you an’ Walt gettin’ back together?’” She shook her head, her curls bobbing. “You are coming to dinner next week, right?”
“Miss Papi’s birthday? You crazy? Momma would kill me.”
Kimbra snorted. “True story.”
* * * *
It was close to eleven o’clock by the time Kimbra pulled her car into Walt’s driveway.
“You could come in, if you wanted,” Walt suggested.
She offered him a sweet smile, the smile he’d fallen in love with in college. “Sugar, I do that, bad things happen. Every time we’ve tried that. I’m done touching that stove. You need someone kinky, and while I liked getting our freak on in bed, you know dang well I’m a workaholic and not the slightest bit submissive. I’m married to my work. Worse now than when we were together. That ain’t changing, no matter how much it kills my mother. Two dominant people like us don’t make a marriage—they make emotional manslaughter. I wasn’t meant to be warm and cuddly and maternal, and you can’t handle being just fuck buddies with me. I love you too much to lose you as a friend and family.”
He let out a sigh. “It was worth a shot.”
“I know. And I’m proud of you. It’s been at least a year since you last asked.” She smiled. “Have a good night, sweetie.”
She leaned in for a kiss from him, this time a brief one on the lips, and she waited to leave until he was inside and had closed the door behind him.
Yeah, that was the irony, all right. Only his closest friends in the lifestyle knew that particular truth about him. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t still carry a torch for Kimbra. He’d been able to handle having a “vanilla” dynamic with her just fine, but it was being placed second all the time to her work that he’d grown tired of.
And she hadn’t been willing to compromise.
He’d wanted kids and loved being a part of her large extended family.
She’d flat-out told him when he first proposed to her that she didn’t want kids, and that she wouldn’t short-change her career. He’d admired her drive, her ambition, her fire. While she’d been totally honest with him from the start, he’d been a stupid kid, completely in love and thinking they’d still make it just fine.
Yes, they were better friends than lovers.
Didn’t mean he didn’t ache deep inside when he realized he still measured every woman he dated against her and universally found them lacking.
Kimbra told him he was being too snooty, too picky.
He’d thrown himself into play and the lifestyle, accepting that if he couldn’t find a good romantic partner, at least he could play.
Which he did.
And now, at forty-one, he was beginning to think that maybe Kimbra was right. Maybe he was being too picky and expecting far too much from others.
Maybe he was being unfair to other women.
Maybe he was trying to set himself up for failure so he didn’t have to admit Kimbra was right.
Maybe it was time he admitted he was never going to find a way to talk her into coming back, and that it was best for everyone involved if he didn’t.
Chapter Three
Saturday morning, Holly lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. It was a little after nine o’clock, and she was delaying the inevitable.
What wants to work today?
Starting at her toes, she started flexing and bending joints and aching muscles. The soak in the tub the night before had helped. Right now it was late July, meaning her best time of the year pain-wise. Hot and humid helped her not hurt as much.
Finally, she slowly sat up and stared at the bedroom floor for a moment.
What was I going to do today?
She’d have to look at her phone, at the daily planner app that kept her on track, to make sure.
Oh. Joyce.
She was supposed to go to Venture with Joyce tonight. That much she remembered. Right now, she was wishing she’d never agreed to it. Except experience told her she might change her mind twenty or more times between now and their actual meeting time.
I need to go.
Early on, she’d visited Louis every single Saturday, getting up well before dawn to drive to Hardee County, where Louis was incarcerated. After the second year, he’d begged her to limit it to once a month and on holidays, and that he’d call her every Sunday instead. In two weeks was her next scheduled Saturday to go see him.
She knew it was hard on him. At least now that he’d been accepted into the prison’s greyhound rehabilitation program, it gave him a daily focus. He’d successfully trained several greyhounds, and Holly had the pictures of him with each dog framed and hanging in the living room. The families who’d adopted the dogs also sent her periodic updates via e-mail, including pictures.
After a long, hot shower to loosen her muscles, Holly headed to the kitchen to make her coffee and take her meds. She’d force herself to choke down something for breakfast, too, to keep her stomach from getting upset later.
Maybe I can get fire-cupped tonight.
In her head she was already trying to figure out what to wear. Venture didn’t have a “dress code.” She had learned from past experience to dress comfortably. She had a cute black sundress she could wear, along with sandals. Sometimes she wore jeans and a loose blouse. It depended on her pain levels and whether or not she could stand wearing something for long periods of time.
Based on her pain levels right now, she’d bet on the sundress. Soft jersey-knit material, it didn’t rub or scratch
or constrict her. She could go without a bra, too.
As she stood at the kitchen counter and waited on the coffeemaker, she stared out the window into the backyard. She paid the neighbor kid next door to keep it mowed for her. It was one of the few tasks she could easily and cheaply farm out. There were plenty of things she needed to have done, like replacing several sections of screen on the lanai, fixing the latch on the screen door so it didn’t bang in the wind, and several other projects out there.
Turning from the window, she tried not to think about drowning under the to-do list. There were a lot of great memories out there, of her and Louis playing, making forts out of boxes, having water balloon and hose fights. Her dad setting up an inflatable water play set one year, where she could slide around on it while their mom had held baby Louis and let him splash in the water.
Even plenty of good times with Jason, when he wasn’t in a dark mood.
The house had seen a lot of years of love before the afternoon of horror. Yet another reason she didn’t want to let go of it if she could avoid it.
It was one of the few things she had left of her family. Of their dad before he died.
After she had coffee, she walked down to the bedroom that had been hers and was now her home office. Piles of paperwork, files, law books, and journals were scattered over every available horizontal surface.
Maybe I should try to apply for disability. Maybe then I could get a scholarship to a law school or something.
Then again, she knew she couldn’t do that. Maybe before the attack, but not now. Not when it was all she could do sometimes to remember her own damn phone number due to brain fog. Not to mention the house was already needing several repairs and maintenance tasks that she couldn’t afford right now, much less do herself. Going on disability would mean a cut in pay and she’d lose the house.
She couldn’t do that.
The last thing she ever wanted to do was give up hope of figuring out a way to bring Louis home. But it was hard to keep hope alive some days.
So damned hard.
Especially when most of her extended family had disowned her for believing and supporting him.
* * * *
Joyce texted Holly later that afternoon.
We still on?
Holly knew this was her out but opted not to take it.
Yes, I’ll go.
Joyce texted her back. :) See you @ 8!
Holly had gone so far as to create a FetLife account a while back when Joyce first took her to events. She had a few friends on there, but socialized even less. Mostly it was so she could see events.
Holly opted to stick with over-the-counter pain meds for the evening and went for a pre-emptive soak in the tub. Her doctor had offered her some really strong painkillers, but the problem with them was that they didn’t help the pain so much as they dulled it, and her brain.
She had a hard enough time with her brain as it was with fibro fog already wreaking havoc inside it. Not to mention it was increasingly difficult to get prescriptions filled without pharmacists looking at her like she was some sort of pill addict.
So she’d opted to stick with a couple of milder medications, a muscle relaxer and one anti-anxiety drug. They helped her sleep at night, and she could take them when her stress levels shot through the roof, which exacerbated her fatigue and pain levels.
Eventually, she knew she’d be forced to move back into prescription pain medications, but she hoped to delay that.
She’d eaten a chicken pot pie for dinner and was dressed and ready when Joyce arrived to pick her up. After locking up the house, Holly headed to her friend’s car, a sweater in hand in case the building was a little chilly.
Joyce’s beaming grin greeted Holly when she opened the passenger door. “Ready to have some fun?”
Holly forced a smile in return, knowing that the woman was trying to help in the only way she could. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
* * * *
Walter hummed as he shaved before he grabbed a shower. He’d spent the afternoon doing a little yard work after sleeping late that morning. Tory had already texted him to confirm their play date at the club.
His sadistic motor was already humming.
Tory didn’t just want a good beating—she needed it. She was a friend of Kimbra’s and practiced family law.
The average person couldn’t play hard enough to take him at full speed.
Tory not only could, she met him head-on and challenged him.
He had fun playing with others, for sure, and enjoyed teaching classes such as bare-fisted pummeling and heavy impact play.
But most people he played with, he had to hold back and be gentle. And while it was still fun, he missed being able to let all of his demons out to play.
In some ways, even play with Tory wasn’t as satisfactory as he’d like, because they weren’t sleeping together. She’d hinted early on she wouldn’t mind exploring more sexually with him. But because she was a friend of Kimbra’s, he knew he shouldn’t cross that line, even though Kimbra had flat-out told him, several times, that she was fine with it.
Few things were more satisfying than having a partner he could unleash his sadistic side on and then fuck them into a happy sleep immediately after. Didn’t even have to be physically demanding sadism. He’d once had a partner he could tie up and then hit sensitive pressure points on her body, make her scream in agony, and not leave a single bruise.
Unfortunately, she’d had to move out of state for work.
She’d been the last person he’d dated and slept with, and that’d been over a year earlier.
In the twelve years since his divorce from Kimbra—not counting the several times the two of them had slept together early on before Kimbra finally put a stop to it due to him getting too needy after—he’d only slept with three women, all of them starting out as play partners. Three others he’d done orgasm play with and let them either blow him or give him a hand job if they wanted to, but now he wasn’t dating anyone despite having a couple of regular play partners. He had enough friends he could always find someone to play with at the club, if he was in the mood. Or if he just wanted to go out with friends, he had countless options there.
But no one he was romantically involved with at this time.
Maybe I need to listen to Kimbra.
He left home early enough to grab dinner with everyone at Sigalo’s, where he was a little shocked to see Lynn…and Paul.
Terrie, Lynn’s best friend, spotted Walter first and pulled him aside.
“Yes, he’s back, and yes, they’re back together,” she said before he could ask.
“And he’s not dead. And you’re not in jail.”
“I know. It’s a miracle, right?”
“What happened?”
“Long story. Interesting story. By interesting, I mean crazy.”
“How so?”
She grinned. “You haven’t heard yet.” She pointed at Lynn. “She hit the Powerball jackpot.”
He blinked, eyes widening. “What?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re not kidding.”
“No, I’m not kidding.”
“So she hit the lottery, and then Paul came back. Why are we trusting him?”
“Because he had no clue about her hitting the lottery when he came back.” Her smile faded. “Me and my big mouth let that cat out of the bag.” She filled him in.
“Ah. Well, she looks happier than I’ve seen her look in two years.”
“I know.” She patted him on the arm. “Now if we could just find you someone.”
“Oh, do not go siccing the matchmaker’s society on me.”
“Would I do that?”
“Yes, you would.” He finally focused on her. “If I need the extra help, I’ll ask. I promise.”
Walter ended up at the far end of the table from Lynn and Paul, where he chatted with Tony and Shayla for most of the meal. By the time he reached Venture, Tory was already there and ready to play.
&nb
sp; “Someone’s wound up,” he teased when she practically bounced over to him upon walking into the dungeon with his gear.
“You have no idea how badly I need this tonight. Finally resolved the nastiest divorce case I’ve had to deal with yet. Three kids, custody and support issues, neither party wanting to adult and both me and opposing counsel practically ripping our hair out at their antics. I joked with the guy that I thought the parents needed a good hard spanking to get their heads on straight, and he agreed with me.”
“Yikes.”
“Yeah. Honestly? It was me and the other attorney who worked it out like adults, because those two never should have had kids. I feel sorry for their children. I joked with him that I wondered if we could get away with slipping a clause in there that both parties had to get sterilized so neither could reproduce again, and he seriously considered trying it.”
“Ouch.”
“Exactly. So I hope you brought your A-game, buddy.” She grinned up at him. “Not even driving myself home tonight. I rode with friends so I could just collapse and enjoy the bliss after.”
“Smart woman.”
She let out a snort. “Apparently not, or I would have gone into something other than law.”
Another reason he enjoyed playing with Tory was her sense of humor. “Then go pick your poison, kiddo. I’ll let you decide where you want to scene.”
“Goodie!” She streaked off into the new side of the dungeon to scope out available play stations while Walter chuckled and followed her.
Chapter Four
Holly and Joyce paid their entry fees when they arrived at Venture, received their wristbands, and then Holly followed Joyce inside.
“I don’t think he’s here yet,” Joyce said.
“Don’t you know what this guy looks like?” Holly already had a bad feeling about Joyce’s “date” for the evening. Not so much about the guy himself but about the overall circumstances.
“Yeah, I do, smart-ass.” Joyce looked around. “I just don’t see him yet.”