everything out. Otherwise, Tara was only going to keep getting more brittle until she shattered.”
Bailey stole another glance at the couple and knew Hunter was right. In a weird way, she saw the logic. If Tara didn’t have her guard up anymore, Logan could dig down to the real problem and fix it. She could no longer say she was “fine.”
Biting her lip, Bailey wondered . . . Had Joaquin been trying to reach her?
“I can tell by looking at them now that Logan loves his wife. Of course he’d want to help her,” Bailey argued. “If Joaquin wants to put me in a state where I’m compelled to let my guard down, it’s only to help me remember the past I’ve apparently forgotten. He needs that information.”
“He does, but discipline is to teach you a lesson, not to jog your memory. While you’re still in danger, will you leave your appointed safe zone again without talking to him first?”
Her first impulse was to remind Hunter that she was a grown woman and would do whatever she wanted, but the demand in his expression made her think twice. “Probably not.”
“Mission accomplished,” he quipped.
But Logan spanking Tara had looked both emotional and sexual. So had the scene in the dungeon a few days ago. When Joaquin had smacked her backside, Bailey had experienced the event on a deep level that, yes, had also been sexual.
She opened her mouth to ask if she’d misunderstood Joaquin’s spanking, then closed it. He’d gotten his point across to her. And if his reaction had been anything to go by, it had aroused him, too. What did that mean?
Hunter whispered something in Kata’s ear, and she gave him a come-hither glance. In the background, Logan lifted Tara and locked lips with her in a way that left Bailey no doubt what he wanted. He strode toward the back of the club, flung open a door, and let it slam behind them.
In a corner, Axel now cuddled Sweet Pea, whose face looked exhausted but peaceful. Oddly, their embrace seemed comforting, not erotic. The little receptionist, now back in her bright dress, gave the slab of a man a grateful smile. He stroked her hair, murmuring something to her that made her nod, her eyes shine. What they shared was so different, but still so poignantly connected.
Finally, Sean, Callie, and Thorpe emerged from the kitchen again, carrying a few more sodas and bottles of water. The pretty brunette adjusted her skirt. Her cheeks looked flushed. She wore a supremely satisfied expression echoed by her two men.
Envy pierced Bailey. She wanted what all of them had—comfort, belonging, connection. Love. Her parents hadn’t been her parents at all, but had raised her for a paycheck, then left without a qualm. She’d never had any grand love affair except with dance. She’d never had true connection with anyone, even when she thought she had. It devastated her to realize that she’d always been alone.
Loneliness sat like a crushing weight on her chest. But even more feelings she could barely identify battered her. She tried to process everything she’d witnessed at Dominion, not even sure why merely glancing at Joaquin wrenched her. No, she knew. Because she wanted him far more than she should. Bailey wished she could write her feelings off as just wanting someone in her life. But she knew that desire well. This was more intense—and totally focused on him.
He made her yearn in a way she didn’t understand. It wasn’t letting up. No idea why. He hadn’t exactly been a peach to her. He’d challenged her on every level. Scared her. Pissed her off. Made her question her identity and her entire life.
But he alone also evoked this something that made her fear she couldn’t do without him.
Bailey looked away. She was so screwed. If he wasn’t connecting with his own family, then hoping to share what the others at Dominion had with him was the stupidest insanity.
Her future stretched out in front of her, one without Joaquin. And she still had no family, so few friends. It made her sad all over again.
Crap, even the thought was going to make her cry. Great time for a pity party . . .
“I think I’m done for the night. It was great to meet you,” she said earnestly to Kata and Hunter. “Best of luck with your beautiful baby boy.”
The pair exchanged a glance before Kata put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you sure? I wish you’d stay. I’d love more female company.”
Her offer was sweet, but Bailey couldn’t handle being Kata’s charity case. “I’m just really tired. Maybe I’ll see you again someday.”
Before they could protest, she smiled, then turned away to skirt the room. She headed for Thorpe, who stood with Xander and Javier beside the sofa. London had curled up on the cushions, now fast asleep.
In between their good-natured ribbing about pending parenthood, she tapped Thorpe on the shoulder. He excused himself from the other men.
“Happy birthday,” she murmured. “Callie wanted to celebrate you so badly. I hope you’re not angry with her.”
His face softened, and Bailey had the feeling very few people ever saw the unguarded side of this imposing man. “Thank you. Don’t worry about Callie. Every day, she makes me happier than I was the day before. I’ll treasure her forever for that.”
His gaze traveled across the room to rest on the woman and her fiancé, holding hands and talking in a quiet corner. Sean toyed with the ring on her finger, then played with the collar at her throat. She smiled up at him as they exchanged the most naked glances of love. Thorpe looked on, his expression nothing short of peaceful and proud.
Wondering if Callie had any idea how lucky she was to be so adored, Bailey teared up again. “Good night.”
Thorpe’s gaze jerked back to her. “What’s wrong?”
Bailey didn’t bother saying nothing; he’d never believe her. “I just want to be alone.”
“Is Joaquin still keeping you here against your will? I’ll intervene if you need me to.”
“No. Thanks, but he’s convinced me I’m safer here.” At least physically. Her heart was probably in a whole heap of trouble. “You’ve got your hands full with a wedding on the horizon and a baby coming. Don’t worry about me.”
“Don’t ask me for something impossible. I know he’ll keep you safe from the crazies chasing you. I counseled him about disciplining you in anger. If it happens again, you tell me immediately. I’ll fix it.”
“I’m fine,” she insisted. “Really.” Well, except for the terrible realization that she had no one, the man she ached for would probably never want more from her than a screw, and once this surreal danger had passed she would still be alone. “Night.”
As she turned away, he grabbed her arm, his grip gentle but not allowing escape. “Do you need help, Bailey? A hug? An ear? Tell me.”
He slipped into big brother mode so easily and compassionately. She hated turning him down.
“No.” She sniffled. “I’m the, um . . . work-it-out-in-my-head type.”
He let out a deep breath, obviously not liking her answer, but he released her. “All right. If that changes, I expect you to come to me. You’re under my roof. That makes you my responsibility. I won’t have you any more upset than this situation already entails.”
It was so kind of him. She tried not to cry more. “I appreciate that. I hope the rest of your birthday is great. I already know you’re going to have an incredible life with the people you love. Congratulations.”
Bailey drew in a shaky breath as she turned away—only to find Joaquin’s stare all over her. She jerked her gaze to the back of the room and made a beeline for the hallway that held her room. Before she could escape, he fell into step beside her.
“You’re crying.”
What did he want her to say? That some ridiculous part of her craved closeness with him? He wouldn’t understand. Hell, she didn’t. Better to leave it be. “PMS.”
“Don’t lie to me,” he snarled.
“I’m tired. Can’t I just want to be alone? You know it’s been a trying few days.”
His insistence faded. Grim understanding took its place. ??
?I’ve put you through a lot. Tell me how I can help you.”
“I don’t need your pity.” God, the thought of it would make her cry even more.
His hazel eyes narrowed. “That’s not what I’m offering you.”
Bailey wasn’t sure she believed him. She was too confused to sort it out right now. The door to the room she slept in was mere feet in front of her. A few more steps and she’d be behind it. Then she’d be able to think—and breathe air not tinged with his scent. She wouldn’t have to feel him all around her and be too aware of what she was missing.
How crazy was it that she was lonely, yet running away from people who’d offered to spend time with her? One glance at Joaquin and she knew why: She wanted quality, not quantity. She didn’t know Kata or Thorpe. They meant well, but . . . she couldn’t settle anymore for the superficial exchanges that, except for Blane, comprised all her friendships. She needed something real, deep, abiding. True.
What a shame she’d never get it from Joaquin.
“If you want to do something for me, go spend time with your sister. She needs you.”
His lips pursed. He didn’t look pleased. “Did she or Hunter say something to upset you?”
“No, but you shouldn’t take your family for granted. Take it from someone who has spent the last three holidays alone.” She grabbed hold of the doorknob and wrenched it, trying to shove the door open.
As he grabbed her hand and stilled her, Joaquin’s towering presence behind her filled her with trembling need.
“You’re shaking.”
No kidding. Bailey sighed, certain that if he didn’t stop pressing his concern on her, she’d fall apart. She had to stop tripping his guilt trigger. Or the next time he showed caring, she might have a weak moment. “It doesn’t matter. You brought me here to keep me alive. I still am. Leave it there.”
He whirled her to face him and wedged a finger under her chin until she looked at him. He sucked in an agitated breath. “That isn’t going to fly with me, baby girl. I’ll give you an hour alone. After that, I’ll be back. Then we’re going to talk. That’s nonnegotiable.”
* * *
JOAQUIN could barely breathe past his anger by the time Bailey made it into her room and he strode back down the hall to the party. He replayed what he’d seen, knew who she’d been talking to when her upset had started. He wasn’t eager to talk to his sister. But by God, he would do whatever he must to figure out what the hell had hurt Bailey.
He came at Kata like a freight train, not stopping until he was nearly in her face. “What did you say to Bailey that upset her?”
Kata reared back with a shrug. “Nothing.”
“At the very least, you said something to her about me neglecting the family.”
Even as the words slipped out, Joaquin knew the orphan in Bailey would see that as somewhere between an awful waste and a terrible sin.
“I didn’t put it like that. I just said that I didn’t see you much these days. Shortly after that, she got upset. I tried to talk to her, but . . . I don’t expect her to confide in me. She barely knows me.”
Obviously, Bailey had declined to confide in Thorpe, too. Joaquin couldn’t deny that she’d also shut him out completely when he’d followed her to her door. Damn it. He must look like a heartless asshole to her.
He stared at the far wall, dragging in an agitated breath, then looked at his watch. Fifty-eight minutes until he could go back to her room. Even if he could see her now, what would he say?
“You should go talk to her,” Kata suggested. “I think she could use it.”
“I tried,” he bit out.
“My wife is just trying to help. Stop browbeating her,” Hunter cut in with a dangerous edge to his voice. “She doesn’t need you climbing down her throat and upsetting her, especially when she’s nearly eight months pregnant. So why don’t you stop being a douche and step back?”
Joaquin sliced his gaze over to Kata. She wasn’t looking at either one of them. Clearly, she didn’t want to contradict her husband, but her expression told him that was mostly because she couldn’t disagree.
He dragged in another breath and looked down at her belly, which Hunter rubbed protectively. Cursing under his breath, Joaquin winced. He couldn’t blame his brother-in-law. In Hunter’s shoes, he’d tell himself to back the fuck off, too.
Scrubbing a hand down his face, he sighed. “Sorry, Kata. Bailey has endured a lot in two days and it’s not over. I know there’s no way to avoid causing her pain entirely. I just . . .”
How did he put into words something he really didn’t grasp himself?
“You wanted to spare her whatever you could. I get it. She matters to you,” Kata said softly.
Joaquin frowned. How had his sister come to that conclusion? For that matter, how had he come to care about Bailey so quickly?
“Something like that,” he grumbled.
“She thinks she’s nothing more than a case to you. If that’s true, you need to make that clear and keep your hands off her.”
His little sister telling him how to run his life wasn’t exactly improving his mood, and he looked at Hunter for backup, only to realize that the man was strictly in his wife’s corner. Well, shit. But wasn’t that as it should be?
Hunter’s phone beeped, and he pulled it from his pocket, read a text, then shoved it back in his jeans. “Stone is here. He’s got intel.”
Tonight? “He drove out here from Lafayette? I thought he was watching Oracle.”
His brother-in-law nodded. “He said it was urgent. Jack is on his way back, and they can always call Tyler for backup if shit hits the fan in the interim. I’m going to ask Thorpe if we can use his office.”
A moment later, Hunter and the club owner exchanged some words. Sean joined in. Less than thirty seconds later, Thorpe took Callie’s hand and kissed her forehead while Hunter and Sean headed back in Joaquin’s direction.
“You two wait in Thorpe’s office. I’ll bring Stone back,” the groom offered.
They both nodded, and Joaquin held in a grimace. If Stone was traveling a few hundred miles just to fill him in, none of the news could be good.
He settled in a chair facing Thorpe’s desk. Hunter hung back near the door. It didn’t take long for Sean to arrive with Stone. Sean seated himself in Thorpe’s big chair that Joaquin thought looked more like a throne, while the tech guy Jack employed plopped into the other chair facing the desk.
Joaquin turned to look at the guy beside him. “Thanks for coming out here. Lay it on me.”
A lot of men would hesitate before imparting bad news. Not Stone. “The police sketch of the guy who broke into Bailey’s house is done. I’m sure they intended to call you tomorrow, but I was trolling through their case files and thought what the hell? I printed it out. Here.” He passed a piece of paper Joaquin’s way. “Look familiar?”
“No,” Joaquin said after a glance. But he wasn’t the one who needed to remember seeing this face in the past.
“May I?” Sean held out his hand.
Joaquin passed it over and watched the other man study the drawing of the balding man with the unremarkable face and the unfamiliar military coat. Sean dissected it visually with a scowl.
“It might be one of the guys who pursued Callie, Thorpe, and me through Vegas last November. I didn’t get a good look at him. It was a car chase, after all. But he definitely looks familiar.”
“Fucking fabulous.” Joaquin resisted the urge to punch a wall. The damn stress was mounting, as were the connections between Bailey and the bastards who had caused Callie a decade of woe. They’d likely killed Callie’s family, given the fact that they’d tried to do her in as well. Were these the same assholes who had killed Bailey’s birth parents and the other Aslanov kids?
“I want to show this to Callie, see if he looks familiar to her. I think you should show it to Bailey, too.”
Joaquin didn’t love that idea, but he agreed. “I’d plann
ed on it.”
“Good. I’d also like to run this through the bureau to see if we get any hits on facial recognition software or if he matches up to any known dissidents on file.”
“Ahead of you,” Stone said. “He’s been identified as Joseph McKeevy. He’s a known, longtime member of LOSS. He’s a real asswipe, by all accounts. He’s a known felon with a couple of armed robbery charges on his rap sheet. But he has a special affinity for crimes against women. He was convicted as a minor for raping a friend of his younger sister’s. After a few years in