Page 15 of Darkest Before Dawn (His Perfect Darkness #2)

R ex

I storm into Club Empire just as St. James strolls into the foyer. “I want to see her.”

“Rex. Lovely to see you again.” Now St. James looks weary, like he’s been up all night and would like to go to bed instead of dealing with a lover’s spat. It will be easier to overpower him in this state.

I remind myself that I can’t kill him until he tells me where Inara is.

“Give her back.”

“Right this way.” St. James pivots and leads me to the elevator.

I’m surprised he didn’t fight me. I almost wish he would.

But it seems he’ll do me the honor of escorting me. A risk on his part. I might kill him before we reach Inara.

He leans in to press a button and close the doors, but the elevator doesn’t move. He hasn’t pressed a button for a floor.

I round on him. I’d knock him out right now, but I need to find Inara first.

He holds up a hand. “Before you speak to her, I need to know you’ll behave. I’ve made certain promises to her, and I need to know you’ll uphold them.”

The thought of him speaking to Inara long enough to promise her anything makes me want to put my hands around his neck and squeeze.

No, I need a good, gruesome fate for St. James. A torture session followed by removing his tongue.

He isn’t special. He’ll bleed like all the rest.

But then St. James adds, “She’s not hurt, but she is frightened.”

I remember how she looked on the footage Hamish sent over, and the all-consuming rage leaks from my veins. I let my shoulders relax.

“What promises?” I growl.

“First, that you’ll honor this as neutral territory. No dragging her out of here by her hair or anything else.”

“I wouldn’t do that.” He makes it sound so distasteful, but I can’t sugarcoat what I’ve done. “I’d drug her first.” I’d cradle her unconscious body against me and hold her the whole way home.

“Ah. Then no drugging her, either.”

I grumble my assent.

“One more thing,” St. James says, then adds in a softer tone, “This isn’t her request, but I’d advise you to take caution before touching her.”

“What?”

“Before she met you, she didn’t allow anyone to touch her,” St. James quietly reminds me.

He must have read her scene requests when she first applied to be a member of the club.

For a moment, we’re simply two doms discussing how to best care for a treasured submissive. “Touch means something to her.”

This is why St. James is so dangerous. He can sum up a person’s deepest needs and darkest desires in a single glance. And he has no soul to stop him from using this insight against you.

But he’s right about this. Godsdamn him.

Inara strapped to the cross, sassing me even as she quivered in anticipation for the flogger.

Inara shaking when I ran a gloved finger down her spine.

Inara, resting in my arms, sated.

I trusted you, she shrieked from the cage. And you would do this to me?

I’m the only one she allowed to touch her. And then I betrayed her trust.

I don’t ask how St. James knows the intimate details of our relationship. I want this conversation over. “I won’t touch her without her consent.”

Without another word, he presses the elevator button to take us to the floor with the private rooms.

I thought he might be keeping her in an office or in the bar upstairs.

But no, the elevator descends, and I’m reminded of previous visits on happier nights.

Every night I met Inara here, I was full of hunger and a certain satisfaction in having trapped her.

But also the wary anticipation a hunter reserves for vicious prey.

I’d always known she’d be dangerous to me.

She’s the only one who can destroy me.

Now, as the elevator descends, I wonder if I’m descending to my doom. She can scoop out my insides, leaving me a shell of a man, driven by lust and my need for control, with no softness to temper my monstrous desires.

Did St. James take this route on purpose? To remind me of my responsibilities as a dom?

Or did Inara choose our usual private room, knowing it would remind me of the times we had?

The elevator has almost reached its destination when St. James speaks again. “By the way, you’re welcome.” We’re both facing the door, and I refuse to glance at his face or ask what he thinks I should thank him for. “For keeping her safe when you couldn’t.”

The only thing keeping me from stabbing him right here, right now, is the thought of having to face Inara with blood all over my hands. “You snatched her before I could get to her,” I say to my blurred reflection in the metal door.

“She was ready to run away. She would’ve done anything to get away from you.” He means to bait me—does he want me to kill him?—but his words batter me like bullets hitting a bullseye. All I can see is Inara crouched and screaming in that room of dead birds. Overwhelmed by fear.

In what I’m aware is a heroic act of self-discipline, I do not break his neck and leave him in a crumpled pile on the elevator floor.

The doors open, and I stride out, willing to give St. James the last word if it means I’m rid of him faster. I know where my private rooms are; I don’t need him to show me the way.

“Do we have an alliance?” St. James calls after me.

“Yes,” I say, without turning around.

“Excellent. I’ll inform Damien and the rest. Oh, one more thing. In addition to owing Kaiser a new Jeep, you owe Jaeger bodywork on his Lykan.”

“Send me the bill,” I say and stride down the hall toward my room.

I burst through the door, but Inara isn’t there. There’s a mug of tea on a side table, still steaming. If that’s hers, she was just here.

I move deeper into the room to see if she’s standing in a corner when the door slams behind me.

I leap to grab the door handle, but it’s locked. As I knew it would be. But that means?—

“St. James?” I call out to see if he locked me in.

There’s a pause, and my heart leaps at the first clue of who’s beyond the door.

“It’s me,” Inara says. Her voice is quieter than usual. Not the firm, stubborn tone I’m used to.

“Inara.” Her name leaves my lips in a rush. She must have been hiding in another room when I exited the elevator and took her opportunity to trap me. Now I imagine her standing only a few feet away. I rest a hand on the door between us, wanting to feel close to her. “Unlock the door.”

“No.” Her voice is stronger. “I’m not going to do that, Rex.”

I huff. I could force the door, but if she’s standing close to it, I don’t want to hurt her.

And I don’t want her to leave.

For the moment, she’s trapped me. It’s just a small taste of how I trapped her, but I hate it.

“I know what you’re doing.”

“This is the part where I tell you it’s for your own good,” she says. “But we both know that’s a lie. It’s really for mine.”

I clench my fist, allowing her to have her revenge.

“Now you know how it feels.”

Only a few inches of wood separate me from Inara, but it feels like a chasm. She’s safe, I remind myself. And she’s near.

I swallow my temper. “Are you hurt?”

There are many ways I could break out of this room, but I need to make sure she’s okay more than I need to see her. And a part of me knows that if she feels safer talking to me from behind a locked door, then I want to give her that.

“I’m okay. It was just a shock.”

She’s talking about the collapse at her apartment. I’m all amped up about St. James, and she’s still reliving the horror of that moment I saw on the footage Hamish sent me. “What happened?”

“He was there, Rex.” She sounds like she’s closer to the door, leaning against it. “He was in my house. It was awful, I can’t—” She sounds close to hyperventilating.

“Shhhh,” I rest my forehead on the wood, feeling helpless.

The only thing stopping me from busting through this door is the fact that it might scare her, and she’s already scared.

”It’ll be okay.” I don’t want to send her back to the state she was in, crumpled by her townhouse door.

I keep my voice calm and soothing, even as my arms ache to hold her. “You’re here, and you’re safe.”

“No thanks to you.” Her voice hardens.

I keep silent because it’s true.

“I thought you would keep me safe, Rex. Instead, you locked me up.” Her voice rises in anger. Anger is good. Anything is better than the devastated sorrow I saw on screen.

“I know.”

“Why are we fighting? There’s evil out there; I can feel it. And I need to stop it. I need you to be on my side.”

“I am on your side.”

“Are you?” Her breath hitches.

I have to lay the truth of myself bare, or I’ll lose her forever. “If anything happens to you, Inara, it would destroy me.”

I can’t apologize for locking her up. It seemed the best way and I’ll do it again if I have to. But I am sorry that I broke the fragile bond between us. “I lost control.” I search for a way to make her understand.

A good dom needs to have a handle on himself at all times. So does a serial killer, or things get sloppy; you make mistakes that leave your victims alive and leave clues for you to get caught. I know this. I’ve been careful and never had a problem until now.

Inara destroys all my control. It would be easier if I didn’t care about her. But the monster in me wants to possess her completely and won’t accept anything less than full access to all of her—body, her mind, and trust.

She’s my greatest weakness.

“I haven’t allowed myself to. . . feel things. For anyone. It wasn’t safe. But I can’t stop myself from feeling things for you.”

Silence. She doesn’t ask me what I feel for her, and I’m grateful. I don’t have the words for it now.

“I felt something, too. But now I don’t know if I can ever trust you.”

“Please,” I murmur, knowing I don’t deserve another chance. I’ll need to prove myself, prove that I can give her what she needs.

“I should go now.”

“No,” I say, my panic rising. The monster wants to break down the door, but if I give into violence, it’ll prove to her that I’m out of control again. I’ll lose her forever.