Page 28 of Drag You Down
“Food first,” he says. “I’m starving. I had to work through lunch so I could get off even remotely on time.”
“8:30 isn’t even remotely on time,” I remark, but I’m one to talk. I need those files, and I’m not sure I can be patient enough to cook before finding out what’s in them. I reluctantly start pulling ingredients out of the fridge. “Tell me what you found while I cook. See if you earn your bourbon.”
“I thought it didn’t smell tasty enough in here,” Dom remarks. “I skipped eating the celebratory cake somebody brought because I knew I’d be eating here, and now you make me wait?”
Ichabod jumps up against his leg, butting his head against Dom’s knee, and he stares down at him.
“Hate him less, and he’ll leave you alone. And I didn’t want everything to sit for too long,” I say, only to amend, “and you might not be the only one working late. Now, tell me.”
“About my day? Yeah, sheesh. It was this big fucking mess. We arrested a guy—who thankfully was too stupid to consider lawyering up—but then it turns out he and somebody else we had in knew each other? And they get into this loud fight, a nose gets broken, blood goes flying.”
As he rambles, I put water on for the pasta, salting it and trying not to let my impatience get the best of me.
Normally, I’d be amused by how many times Dom has to lift Ichabod and move him from his lap, but my stomach is in knots.
“While they’re fighting, some of the other people we brought in try to escape… Just a huge commotion, all while I’mtryingto do the paperwork I need to get the fuck out of there.” Dom lets out an exaggerated sigh. “I got called in to deal with some of the fallout, Martino then begs me for some help with his shit?—”
I clear my throat, stirring the onions in the pan. “As much as I care about your shit-tastic day, I need to know more about Carpenter.”
It’s so obviously a fake name that I’m not sure even Dom or one of the tech whizzes in the department could’ve pulled something, but they’ve impressed me before.
Dom gives me a pointed look. This time, when he sets Ichabod down, the cat runs off, finally tired of tormenting his favorite visitor. “You weren’t at Club Alpha last Friday,” he says instead of actually answering my question.
It takes me a few seconds to realize what he’s even talking about.
But I always go to Club Alpha on Fridays. Club Alpha is the best BDSM club in New Bristol. Membership is exclusive, discreet.
But I hadn’t even considered going last Friday.
I’d been too busy trying to find any information at all about Levi. Without a last name or even a birthday, I have even less to go on than for Zachariah Carpenter.
How is it possible, in this day and age, that Levi barely exists? I’d tried calling the building office, but I got a generic phone tree with no way to talk to a real person. The city property office only listed the holding company as the owner, no further contact information.
Birth records for “Levi” are useless, never mind that I don’t know if he was even born in New Bristol or somewhere else.
So how could I possibly go and whip or spank a boy I don’t care about, when my lamb is being tortured and abused by another man?
“There were a few newbies,” Dom continues. “Found a needy brat who really wanted a good Daddy. I told him about you. He’s keen to meet you.”
I open my mouth to tell him off but change my mind. “You think I’d make a good Daddy for a boy?”
Dom peers at me. “Uh. Depends on what the boy wants and needs? You’d be good at the whole pain play part. You’ve got the whole being a dominant asshole thing down. But the caretaking side…” He shrugs. “Not your style.”
That’s not true.
That can’t be true.
I’d take good care of my lamb.
“Whatever. I don’t want to talk about my love life,” I say mulishly. “I want to know about Zachariah Carpenter.”
Dom huffs in annoyance. “This guy got you this worked up? What was he even doing, that he got onto your radar?”
“You know I can’t divulge information like that,” I tell him, glad to have redirected the conversation.
Of course, he’s not supposed to share the kind of information I’m asking for either, but plausible deniability is one of the ways we operate.
Dom keeps staring at me, until he says, “Well. You’re right about bad vibes. Zachariah Carpenter is his newest name. He’shad five already, but his last one was Joshua Baker. It looks like he’s been moving from city to city… and the last name, about fifteen years ago, was convicted of child endangerment and child abuse. He had a compound outside of Calamity City, and they found about ten people living with him. Two of the women had kids with him.”
