Page 11 of One Cut Deeper

After Charlie left for the airport, I stared at his perfectly made bed and imagined burying my face in his pillow. But in the end, I decided it’d be too presumptuous to sleep there without him my first night, so I chose the guest room. Sheba sniffed at me in disdain and demanded I open the Master’s door for her. I left both doors open in case she changed her mind later.

I see her big form outlined in the hallway. She bristles at something toward the sliding glass door. Growling, a deep, rumbling snarl that I’ve never heard from her before.

My phone starts ringing, scaring the crap out of me all over again. I grab it off the nightstand and check the number before answering.

“Charlie?”

“Where are you?”

His voice is hard and clipped, each word heavy and echoing with menace. He doesn’t sound like the man with the dimple and cute curls. “The…the guest room,” I stutter. “Sheba’s growling. I think someone’s at the back door.”

“Grab her collar and tell her ‘guard.’ Then take her into my bedroom. Do it now, Ranay. As quietly as you can.”

A thousand questions crowd my mind but I leap from bed to do as he orders. How did he know something is going on? Why would someone try to break into the house? Do they know he’s gone?

I whisper to Sheba and she immediately relents, allowing me to take her back into the bedroom. “I’m there.”

“Good. Shut the door and lock it. Sheba’s with you?”

“Yes.” My fingers tremble but I lock the door. “What’s going on?”

“Open the large cabinet in the corner and turn on the monitor inside. I have an extensive alarm system wired into the house, but I didn’t turn it on because I didn’t want you to have to mess with it alone. I’m activating it now, so don’t open a single door or window again until I give you the all clear, or every police officer in a twenty-mile radius is going to be headed your way.”

He doesn’t need a television in his living room when he has a NASA computer in his bedroom. A large monitor sits on the shelf with what looks to be at least three hard drives below. I hit the power switch on the monitor, afraid I’ll have to restart one of the computers, but it immediately flashes to an image of the backyard.

“Something triggered the motion sensors inside the fence, but not close enough to the house to trigger the lights.”

His voice is still so hard and distant it scares me more than the thought of someone trying to sneak into the house. “A…a cow?”

“Wrong side of the fence.” He sounds distracted, a hundred million miles away. I wish I could see his face and reassure myself that he’s the Charlie I know, Sheba’s Charlie, the kind and tender man I want to belong to. “Bigger than a wild animal. Smart enough not to come into the yard and set off the lights. I’m scanning the other cameras but I don’t see anything. Is Sheba calm now?”

“Yes,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around myself. I’m freezing and I need to pee. Bad. But even if I empty my bladder and climb under a pile of blankets, I’ll still be shivering. “She’s lying on the bed.”

His breath sighs out. “Good. Then the danger has passed.”

Danger? The last thing I expected when I drifted off to sleep is danger. If he’s here playing Master, sure. Danger’s part of the game.

“I know you’re scared, Ranay. I’m sorry I’m not there to explain what’s going on. As soon as I’m home, we’ll talk, okay? I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Try to get some sleep, and I’ll see you in a few hours. I’ll try to move my flight up.”

Sleep? I glance at my watch, surprised to see it’s only two. I’ve only been asleep a couple of hours, but now I’m wide awake. “Is the alarm still on?”

“Yes, but I’ll shut it off at dawn. See the panel by the door? If it’s blinking red, don’t even jiggle the handle. I don’t think anyone’s going to bother you again tonight, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

“Can I use the bathroom?” I hate the quiver in my voice. I hate the fact that even though I have no idea what kind of business he’s involved in, I want him here so I won’t be afraid. What kind of man has a security system so rigorous that he knew someone intruded on his property before his dog barked while a thousand miles away?

“Of course. The bathroom door isn’t wired. If Sheba wakes you again, call me. You should have been with her in my bed anyway.”

The hint of reproach in his voice makes me hang my head, though he can’t see me. “I didn’t think it was right if you weren’t here.”

“My home is your home, Ranay. Now I’m sorry, but I have to go.” I hear voices in the distance. What kind of business is he doing in the middle of the night? “I’m monitoring the alarm system. If a bunny farts in the yard, I’ll know about it, okay? So don’t worry. Get some sleep and dream about me.”

I hang up and hit the bathroom, but sleep is the furthest thing from my mind. I need answers. I need to know what kind of work he’s doing in New York at two o’clock in the morning. Why does he have a state-of-the-art security system and a mighty big dog when he lives in a rural area with very little crime? Does he have enemies? Could he be involved in some kind of gang? Drugs? Some kind of government black ops? He can be pretty scary when he wants to be.

Or maybe I’m just a naive fool.

Sheba lays on the bed, seemingly relaxed, but she keeps a careful eye on me while I start snooping in earnest. It makes me feel guilty as hell. He told me to look for toys, but now I’m looking for hints about his job and life too. I look under the bed first, not expecting to find anything but the ubiquitous box of goodies any dominant keeps around for a scene. I can’t even find a dust bunny, let alone some handcuffs or a crop. Now I’m starting to wish I’d been brave enough to search for his toys before I headed to bed the first time. Nothing hides in the nightstand but condoms, Kleenex, and an e-reader. I’m tempted to fire it up and see what he prefers to read, but I’m afraid he’ll come home to find me reading, and I still won’t know anything about him.

There isn’t much to find in the walk-in closet either. His clothes are neatly hung, but not obsessively so. He doesn’t match up coats to pants. The top shelf is too high for me to reach—and likely a stretch for him too—so I don’t dare explore without a step ladder. Most of it looks like sports equipment and storage items anyway. Anything he uses regularly wouldn’t be stored up high.

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