Page 152 of Deep Cover

33

Annie

The world stopped revolving quite so fast. Despite Cole sending me away, I didn't trust it. He was already keeping score. He might protect me from such pain caused by others, but no one would protect me from him and to be honest, after a second incident involving the same people, I was afraid of what he would do.

I returned to the party, hovering in the doorway, still dressed in his jacket. I did not kill Kie. I stood and made ready to continue the party. Insane as the situation was, I at least expected that Chloe and Claude would act the same if Chloe were hurt, and likely Andrew and Cecile.

I figured Kie would claw out the eyes of anyone trying to hurt or help her and I didn't give a fuck what Vincent would do.

If he ever tried to collect me for that 5.5 million auction payment, I would kill him.

But there was another problem I hadn't foreseen. Everybody brought their own security to these events apparently. There were hired thugs for each couple and it required only for them to be wearing the livery of their house for the entire situation to be straight out of some D&D game. Or an epic fantasy novel, the kind that took Mark six months to read because he was always working and always tired.

Among the security for House St. Martin was the guard who had watched and laughed at my strip search and at me being returned from trying to run and at other humiliations and degradations. In the heat of the moment, or the horrible burning heat and pain of the pepper, I hadn't paid any attention to him. In truth, after all this time, I had no idea what the asshole's name was. I'd complained about him but Cole treated him like another facet of my slave status, which he was. There was nothing exciting about being punished or humiliated around the jackoff. Just – it was another facet.

I'd already sworn I'd kill him. I had no idea if I someday would. Sometimes the idea of being freed at the end of the year and a day contract seemed like a fantasy. Other times it was something to live for. Most of the time a year was just so far away I couldn't even imagine it, or who I would be by the time it rolled around. In a way, I'd never stopped being deep cover.

Killing the security thug would likely fade into insignificance the minute I was free. That seemed likely. I figured within a week of leaving Cole, the desert and the compound behind, the whole thing would feel like a nightmare, one long fever dream.

But Cole had noticed the security guy. He'd seen him react when Kie jammed the pepper inside me. He hadn't stepped forward to help.

He had laughed. To himself. But he had laughed.

"Before we go any farther," Cole said, eyeing the others. Vincent wasn't going to argue with him about much of anything (maybe that killing Kie thing) and the others were still a little shocked I think. Amazing that a room full of sadists could be shocked out of their unnatural glee. Go Kie?

Not even as a joke could I make myself think that.

Next second I was properly distracted because Cole had turned on his heel and barked an order at someone named Jason. Confused, I turned to see where he was looking and got the first inkling of trouble.

He was shouting at the guard.

I wanted to protest but in a way I'd already disrupted the night's proceedings. Not that I valued their fun and games, but the people in the room did and I didn't want to draw any more attention to myself. Ever. Even to go and smack Kie in her hateful face.

Jason instantly went into bristling alert as if he was being called to protect one of us or something.

One of them. I was definitely not part of an us.

When he understood he was being called, the man looked mutinous. He crossed the floor and stood before Cole, though he looked ready to point out he was hired muscle and not part of this Sunday Night Swingers Club (or whatever he thought of it as).

He didn't. In the next instant I had the pleasure of seeing him blanch with dread as Cole said in a deadly voice, "I saw what you did. And I saw what you didn't do. Take your shirt off."

Jason, big and blocky like a chunk of granite carved into a man, the gray kind of stone that doesn't sparkle but is enormously strong, shook his head. "I'm not a part of all this," he said.

He was huge, but Cole was taller and Cole was far, far angrier.

"I didn't ask if you thought you were a part of this group. Clearly you are not. Everyone here has far more money than you will ever see in your lifetime."

Jason swallowed what looked like fury and looked over Cole's head at the opposite wall.

Cole dropped his voice to a menacing whisper. "You want to take off your shirt now because your reaction to what happened was unacceptable. Because you protect the people in this house before you protect the people from outside who have brought their own security. When something happens to someone in this house who belongs in this house, you wade into it before you ask whether or not it's your business."

Jason looked sullen. "It's not my business." He gave Cole an unbelievably stupid glare.

Cole said in an ever quieter and more deadly voice, "You're absolutely right about that yet you chose to express an opinion on it and come down on the wrong side. Take your shirt off or I'll have them strip it off." He gestured to the other security guys.

They were pressing in close around the rapidly gathering problem.

I longed to say, Cole, leave it, it's not worth it, let's – what? Go home and have tea? Call it a night and throw out our guests and go home and go to bed together?

---