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The tears renew, but this time, they’re happy, relieved. Now that the dean’s here, I can endure anything else that may happen tonight. But first, I need to distract Thatcher, so he doesn’t see them coming up behind.

Locking eyes with Sergei, I give him a small nod to let him know I see him. As he nods back, A loud rattling comes from Caldwell’s cage.

“Help!” he screams out as he shakes the bars. “He’s hurting us!”

Thatcher wrenches away and whirls around to face the three. Disgust rolls off of me as I turn to Caldwell and glare at him. “Good job, idiot.”

“My, my,” the man purrs as he runs his hand over my hair. “So good of you to join us. I was afraid I was going to have to send pieces of little Ashleigh to you one by one.”

“Step away from her,” Dean Anderson growls.

“You’re not in a position to be making demands,” he snaps back, flicking the knife open with a sickening schnick.

The sharp point rests against my jugular, so close to where it was that time with the dean. Only now, things are so much more dire. I hold the scared whimper at bay, determined to not do anything to distract the man.

“What is it you want, Thatcher? You went to a lot of trouble to get me here. Are you sure a meeting couldn’t have sufficed? I’m not so busy that I couldn’t have penciled you in.” His voice is calmed and measured, a balm to my ragged soul.

“I’m sure you would have. But when I tell you what I want, you’ll understand why a meeting just wouldn’t do. What I want is the keys to The Society. Oh, and your little whore for extra measure.” His lips skim my cheek as he holds me closer to him. The scent of his body fills my nostrils, making me heave for a moment. “Tell him how wet you got for me. Tell him how I made you cry so prettily.”

I keep my gaze trained on Dean Anderson and use his strength to help shore me up. The only indication he feels anything in this situation is the way his nostrils flare ever so slightly when Thatcher touches or mentions me. Other than that, he’s a paragon of calm civility.

The waters of his rage must be deep, though. Even Sergei and Master Grigori give him a slight berth as their gazes shift over to him. Their muscles bulge as if priming to grab him and hold him back if needed. But then, this could all just be in my head. It could be the massive delusion of wishful thinking.

When he flits his gaze over to me, however, I’m left with no doubt. The intensity of his stare penetrates me deep into my soul. It’s as if he’s conveying everything and nothing at the same time. My world opens up and yawns in front of me, threatening to drown me as relief floods through me. How could I ever believe I meant so little to him?

“The fact that you can stand here and admit you’ve made her cry... I’m not sure whether you’re psychotic or just stupid.” The growl of his voice rumbles in my ears, causing me to sag in the restraints.

“Neither. You see, I knew you’d find me eventually. Just didn’t think it would take this long. But don’t worry. Your whore was a gracious host.”

ChapterThirty-Nine

Dean Anderson

My vision wavers as the jackass keeps talking. Next to me, Grigori and Sergei hold their ground, ready to pounce if things go sideways. Unfortunately, we never talked about what would happen if or when we found them.

I can only hope and assume they’ll allow me my revenge. The need to make him pay for every small agony he’s put my girl through beats in my brain, threatening to make me unhinged again. But I can’t take him to task until I fully understand exactly what he’s talking about.

“Enlighten me. You say you want The Society. That’s all well and good, but how do you propose you get it?”

The look he gives me would be comical if things weren’t so dire. “You give it to me. It’s all rather simple. You want your whore back in one piece, then you give me power over the whole of The Society. I want it all. The information, the blackmail. Whatever you have on these people. I want it. You’ve been losing your touch for a bit. It’s time for someone else to be in charge.”

Sergei steps forward and cocks his head to the side. “And who say we listen to dumb fuck like you?”

For a moment, I worry Thatcher’s brain will short circuit as he stares at the brute. Did the man not think this through? No doubt all these years managing yes men made him susceptible to thinking everyone would just bow before him. Not this lot.

The only reason they answer to me is out of gratitude. I offer them a service. I give them the freedom to explore their baser desires. In return, I collect intel to make sure they stay loyal. But I’ve never threatened them. Not explicitly.

Unfortunately, it seems as if Thatcher is under the misapprehension that might always makes right. Cracking my knuckles, I tilt my head from side to side to release the pressure in my neck.

“I would appreciate it if you refrained from calling my girl a whore. Your issue is with me now. Not her. Let her go and we can talk about this.”

He brings the knife back up to her neck and holds it there. Every few moments, he tilts it in until a drop of crimson slides down the dirty column of her throat. To her credit, my girl remains calm. The only sign she feels anything is the way her throat bobs as he continues to dig in.

“That’s my strong girl,” I murmur, catching Ashleigh’s gaze. “Breathe for me, love. Just like we’ve done when we played. That’s all this is. One big scene. Now close your eyes and let yourself drift. I got you, baby.”

Thatcher growls out a breath through his nostrils as he yanks her closer to him. Her tiny yelp slams into my brain and threatens to make me lose all reason. But I can’t. Not yet. Not until she’s safe.

“Talk to me Thatcher. Walk me through your plan. I’m sure it’s some great big idea. Lay it out for me. Man to man.”