Page 20

TWENTY

MOIRA

The neon red glow of Carnal’s sign flickers against the rain-slicked pavement as we pull up to the club. My heart is already tap-dancing in my chest, a wicked little beat of excitement. It’s been too long since I’ve been here, too long since I’ve felt this rush, and even longer since I arrived on the arm of someone who actually meant something to me. Oh, wait. I’ve never arrived on the arm of anyone who actually meant anything to me.

I giggle at myself, feeling flushed with happiness as I suck on my signature cherry lollipop. Bane bought me a bagful the other day to help satiate my oral fixation.

He steps out first, the heavy door of the sleek black car swinging open with practiced ease. I was a good girl all day at the shelter, and now I get my reward.

Bane’s always in control and composed. But I see the slight pause in his breath and the way his gloved fingers flex at his sides. He might be cool, but he’s feeling this too.

I know sometimes his control is just a front. Like earlier when I’d all but burst through the front door of the parish house, practically vibrating from the afterglow of a good deed. “You should’ve seen me!” I announced, kicking off my shoes. “I was a damn angel today.”

Bane was already home, rolling his big, stupid, unfairly sexy shoulders like he was shaking off the weight of the world. He barely glanced up. “That so?”

I sauntered toward him, still high on my own self-satisfaction. “Mm-hmm. Spent all day at the shelter. Scrubbed some toilets. Didn’t get into a single fistfight. I’m practically a saint myself. How ‘bout you?”

He just exhaled, long and slow, like he was carrying something heavy. “Long day.”

I cocked a hip, crossing my arms. “At the church?”

He shook his head and ran a hand through his messy dark hair like some tortured hero in a gothic novel. “I met with the bishop. Then spent the afternoon at the prison.”

That stopped me dead. “Hold up. You… do prison ministry?”

He nodded, all nonchalant.

I stared at him. “How come?”

“Because someone has to.”

I opened my mouth to make a joke—something sharp, something to keep my heart from doing that stupid flutter thing—but nothing came out.

Because this man—the one who makes me lose my mind, who makes me feel too much, who gets under my skin in a way no one else ever has—spends his time sitting with those the whole world has given up on.

And damn him, that makes it really hard to keep pretending these feelings I have for him aren’t like… scary real.

He grins at me now and my chest goes all flutter flutter again. Plus, now that we’re at the club, I’m gonna get my reward for being a good girl all day.

Seriously, what the fuck? Who’s life did I just hijack, and when are they gonna want it back? Fuck that. I’m enjoying the hell out of it for now, and maybe, just maybe, I won’t give it up.

I smile up at Bane, bouncing on my toes like a kid about to be let loose in a candy store. “You ready for this?”

He slid the cloth mask on over his face right as he stepped out of the car, but I can still hear the devilish grin in his voice. “Are you?”

Bane is out to play.

“I was born ready,” I declare, looping my arm through his. “Come on. I wanna see everyone and show you off.”

Kit, the club’s door security, smirks as we approach. “Haven’t seen you in a while, Moira.”

I give him a wink, reaching up to pull the cherry lollipop from my mouth with a pop. “Miss me?”

“You know I did. Everyone’s been wondering when you’d finally drag your ass back here.”

“Well, let’s not keep them waiting.”

Bane lets me pull him inside, though I know it’s more an illusion than anything. He allows me my excitement and indulges my bubbling, madcap energy as I take in the sight of my old haunt. The thrum of bass-heavy music vibrates beneath my heels, the scent of leather, sweat, and something sweet—maybe vanilla—swirling through the air. The club is alive tonight, bodies moving through dimly lit spaces, whispers of pleasure and command threading through the heat.

And there, in our usual corner, are my people.

“Marcus!” I screech, flinging myself at the broody bastard where he’s leaning against a leather chaise, a whiskey glass balanced in his hand. He must be done playing for the night.

He barely has time to put his drink down before I’ve thrown myself in his arms. “Jesus, Moira?—”

“I missed you, I missed you, I missed you!” I chant, kissing his scruffy cheek before sliding down. “Did you miss me?”

Marcus gives me his signature dry look, but there’s warmth in his eyes. “Club’s been too quiet without you.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” I purr, spinning to find Caleb watching with an amused smile, arms crossed over his chest. “And you, Daddy dearest?”

Caleb chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

“But you love me,” I coo, skipping over to give him a hug. “Oh! I have someone for you to meet.”

I twirl back to Bane, who’s been standing like a predator in the shadows—still, watching, and waiting. His presence alone is enough to send shivers down my spine, his mask doing nothing to conceal the dark hunger in his eyes.

“Boys,” I say, pressing a hand to his broad chest. “This is Bane. My Dom.” My everything. I almost say that last part out loud but just barely manage to keep it inside.

I’m glad I do when Marcus and Caleb exchange a look, assessing. I feel the weight of their scrutiny like a physical thing, the way they take in Bane’s imposing frame, the mask, and his aura of complete and utter dominance.

And Bane? He simply inclines his head as if bestowing a royal favor. “Pleasure.”

Caleb snorts. “Well, he certainly fits your type.”

“If by my type you mean big, broody, and can handle me,” I say, waggling my brows, “then yes, Bane passes with flying colors.”

Marcus takes a slow sip of his whiskey, eyes still trained on Bane. “You treating her right?”

Bane doesn’t hesitate. “Always.”

Something in the way he says it makes Marcus nod, satisfied. Caleb just grins. “Then welcome to the madhouse.”

I beam, wrapping my arms around Bane’s waist. “Told you they’d love you.”

“I don’t recall you saying that,” Bane murmurs, lips brushing the shell of my ear.

“Well, I thought it,” I admit. “And that’s close enough.”

Quinn strides up next, all sleek confidence and leather. “Moira, finally. Thought we were gonna have to send out a search party.”

“Oh please, you know I always come back to the scene of the crime.”

She smirks. “And Saint. I was wondering when we’d see you again.”

“Quinn.” He inclines his head.

“I see you’ve met Moira.” Quinn seems amused, looking back and forth between us. Why did she call him Saint?

I squeeze Bane tighter, wondering how they know each other. “He’s my Dom.”

Quinn nods as if something’s just clicked into place. “Well, that seems like a perfect match.”

“Don’t you have a pain piggie to be making squeal somewhere?” Bane inquires mildly.

But Quinn just grins and sits down in the chairs beside us. “He doesn’t get here for another hour. I’m free to hang out ’til then.”

Bane rolls his eyes but then asks if I want anything to drink.

“Sparkling soda, please.” I intend to play tonight, so I’ll stay strictly no alcohol ’til afterward.

Bane kisses my forehead and heads to the bar.

I immediately spin toward Quinn. “You know Bane?”

She shrugs. “I may have run into him a time or two.”

“With or without the mask?” I quiet my voice so Caleb and Marcus won’t hear. Caleb rarely has a night off, so I definitely want to catch up with him, too, but first things first.

Her eyes widen. “Have you seen him without the mask?”

I sit up straighter. “Of course I have. I’m his sub.” I feel so fucking proud saying it.

“I didn’t know you did that. Have you ever been a sub before?”

“All the time here.”

She rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean. Like, a real sub. For anything longer than a night or two.”

“There’s a first time for everything. I can learn. I am learning.”

Quinn’s eyebrows just raise as she eyes me over her cup.

“Have you seen him without the mask?” I turn the question back on her.

Her eyes narrow on me, but she glances over at the bar quickly before leaning in. “If you’ve really seen him, tell me why I call him Saint.”

Oh. My mouth drops open a little.

She really has seen him without the mask.

I lean in even further, looking around to make sure no one’s listening in. “Did you accidentally walk into his church, too?”

Her loud laughter has me yanking back.

“Go to his—” She literally slaps her knee. “Fuck no! Girl, I haven’t been in one of those since they dragged us as foster kids when I was nine.”

She waves a hand. “No, no. I just ran into him while he was in”—she breaks off, checking around as if also seeing who might be in hearing range—“you know, uniform , when I was sitting in a coffee shop. I was in my domme gear, which I try not to wear out in public, but I just really needed a fucking cup of coffee that day and didn’t have time to change.”

She waves a hand. “I just saw it in his eyes. Out of all people, someone in that—uniform—you’d expect to be judgy about what I was wearing, but he just had a normal conversation with me while we were standing in line, and when he casually asked me which dungeon I went to, I knew.”

She smirks. “I told him about Carnal and said he should drop by. He about choked when he realized I’d also clocked him as part of the community. But he showed up, didn’t he?”

“Thank you!” I throw my arms around her.

It’s because of her I have my Bane. If they hadn’t run into each other that day, would I have ever met him?

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

I give her a big kiss on the cheek.

She chuckles low and pulls away from me.

“Get off me, you freak.”

“Mwah, mwah, mwah, I give you kisses.” I mock giving her big, sloppy kisses.

“Oh my god, you’re worse than a puppy!” She laughs and wrestles me until I finally let her go.

“Hey, hey,” Caleb jokes from across the coffee table. “Keep it consensual.”

“Fine,” I sigh, then grin with all my teeth. “But I don’t know how sane I’ll be tonight. Bane’s been edging me like a motherfucker lately, and tonight, I finally get to unleash.”

Marcus takes another sip of his whiskey. “Where exactly will you be scening? Because that sounds like it’d be fun to watch.”

“Jesus, Marcus.” Quinn gives a heavy eye roll.

“What?” he shrugs. “What’s better than friends who fuck? And who watch each other fuck?”

“I can’t think of a thing,” Caleb says, lifting his glass to toast Marcus. The clink of their glasses makes me giggle. I’m usually more in their camp than Quinn’s, but my eyes drift to Bane, who’s walking back our way with our sparkling waters.

As we all sit together and chat, I’m curled up beside Bane in a deep leather lounger around a coffee table cluttered with glasses, and for the first time in a long, long time, I don’t feel so… broken.

Kira and Isaak show up fifteen minutes later, and again, for the first time in forever, it feels like the whole gang’s back together. Well, minus my brother and Anna, but I’m not letting anything dim my glow tonight.

Kira doesn’t chat long—she’s still doing research—so she wanders off to watch an intense scene happening in the corner. Isaak stays seated with us, but every other moment, his eyes lift to clock her with an intensity I’m not used to seeing on his face. Has the great and stoic Isaak finally actually fallen for someone? I didn’t know he could be so human. It makes me happy for him.

The low golden glow of Carnal’s lounge casts soft shadows over our group, and the air hums with warmth, familiar voices overlapping. I stretch out, drumming my fingers against Bane’s thigh, stealing a glance up at him. He’s relaxing next to me, all composed power, hand draped over the armrest like a king surveying his court.

He glances my way, dark eyes heavy. It takes everything in me not to squirm in anticipation. I know that look. He has plans for me tonight. Plans I’m dying to uncover.

I know he’s drawing this part out, and it feels so good to be completely at ease and able to follow his lead. I allow myself to enjoy the anticipation while I catch up with my crew.

I turn to Marcus, but something catches my eye.

Across the room, near the bar, a man is watching me. Medium height with brown hair and unremarkable features, but something about him sticks in my mind, like a song I can’t quite place.

A prickle of unease crawls up my spine.

I swear I’ve seen him before. Maybe hanging around outside the women’s shelter? But that’s halfway across town. He could just be an old hook-up.

The man looks away, focusing on the flogging scene in front of him.

I shake it off. I’m just being paranoid. All medium-height brown-haired guys start to look the same after a while, right?

Still, I shift slightly in my seat, angling myself so that Bane is between me and my unwanted observer, just in case.

I look back at Marcus. He looks wrecked, rubbing his temples as if it might erase the exhaustion pooling under his eyes.

“Alright, Marcus,” I say, nudging his knee with my foot. “Give me the update. Work still eating your soul? And how’s Elle?”

Marcus groans, rolling his glass between his palms. “Work is… work. Non-stop, never-ending. The partners keep dumping cases on me like I don’t have a three-year-old at home demanding constant entertainment.”

I make a face. “You’re so adult with all your…” I wave a hand, “Adulting.”

Isaak snorts. “Still no nanny?”

Marcus scoffs. “Don’t even get me started. The last one quit after two weeks. Said Elle was ‘too intense.’”

Quinn smirks. “Did she climb them like a jungle gym?”

“Probably.” Marcus sighs. “I swear, she’s got more energy than a caffeinated squirrel. I don’t know where she gets it. Definitely not from me.”

I grin. “Well, she is three. And adorable. And smarter than half the people at your firm, probably.”

“No arguments there,” Marcus mutters, but there’s pride tucked into the exhaustion.

The conversation shifts to Caleb, who’s been uncharacteristically quiet. He’s nursing his drink, thumb tracing slow circles against the glass. I know that look. Something’s on his mind.

“Alright, Caleb,” I prod, arching a brow. “Spill. What’s going on in the kingdom of Carnal?”

He exhales through his nose, tilting his head. “Business is good. Better than good, actually. New members, packed weekends. But...” He hesitates, something flickering behind his eyes. “I got a letter.”

I feel the shift in the air. Marcus leans forward, Quinn’s eyes narrow, and I soften my voice. “From Silas?”

Caleb adores his stepfather, who’s been locked up in federal prison for the last eight years for armed robbery.

Caleb nods, setting his glass down with a quiet clink . “Yeah. He wants me to visit.”

A beat of silence passes between us. Marcus and Quinn exchange a glance, and I chew the inside of my cheek.

“That’s… surprising,” Marcus finally says. “I mean, you haven’t gone before. I figured?—”

“What?” Caleb interrupts, his jaw tightening. “That I don’t care?”

“No,” Marcus says carefully.

Isaak tries interjecting. “We just thought maybe you were angry at him.”

Caleb scoffs, shaking his head. “I could never be angry at Silas. You don’t understand. He did what he had to do. He always does.”

Quinn tilts her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Then why haven’t you gone?”

Caleb hesitates. For a split second, something dark flickers across his expression before he masks it with a casual shrug. “Because it’s complicated. And because he wouldn’t want me wasting my time sitting in a prison visiting room when I have things to take care of here. He told me to take care of the club. To watch over myself and to never step foot in a place like that, even to visit him.”

I frown. “Well, something’s obviously changed his mind. It’s been years. He wants to see you now. That means something.” Then I perk up. “Bane volunteers at prisons. He could go with you.”

Bane shifts forward even as Caleb looks away. “I’d be happy to sit with the two of you. Sometimes having someone else there helps calm tensions.”

Caleb exhales sharply. “I don’t know.”

“The man raised you.” Marcus shakes his head. “Don’t you think he deserves at least a visit?”

Caleb tenses, but his voice is even when he says, “Silas doesn’t need me to visit to know where I stand.”

Something about his tone makes me pause. Caleb is fiercely protective of Silas. Always has been. But there’s something new here, something I can’t quite put my finger on.

“Well,” Quinn finally says, cutting through the tension. “If you do go, maybe let one of us come with you.”

Caleb’s lips twitch, a hint of amusement breaking through his carefully crafted defenses. “What, you want to hold my hand?”

“Someone has to,” I tease, nudging his arm. “You’re a handful.”

The moment lightens just enough for Caleb to chuckle, shaking his head. “I’ll think about it.”

The heaviness lingers for a beat before Quinn clears her throat. “Well. That’s enough broody male bonding for one night. Someone tell me something ridiculous.”

I settle back into my seat. The weight eases, laughter bubbles up, and for a while, everything is easy again.

I grin, straightening up. “Oh, I’ve got one. You know the cat rescue near the shelter where I volunteer? The one run by the old lady with the lavender hair?”

Caleb nods warily. “Yeah?”

“Well, I was walking by last week, and she flagged me down like it was an emergency. Thought something awful had happened. Turns out, she just needed someone to hold her purse while she tried to break up a fight. Between two cats.”

Marcus chokes on his drink. “A catfight?”

“Literally. One of them was her ‘star rescue’ named Lord Purrington. The other was a stray she called Bandit. Apparently, they’ve been arch nemeses for months.”

Caleb smirks. “And she just assumed you were the right person to mediate?”

I spread my hands. “I have the aura of someone who understands chaotic energy. Anyway, she threw herself right into the middle of it like a gladiator in a tiny floral sweater. I was just standing there holding her purse and wondering how my life came to this.”

Quinn wipes away tears of laughter. “Please tell me you got a video.”

“Oh, I wish. But I was too busy trying to dodge flying fur and old lady sandals.”

Isaak shakes his head, grinning. “That is… exactly something that would happen to you.”

Caleb lifts his glass in a mock salute. “To Moira, the official peacekeeper of the local cat mafia.”

I clink my glass against his. “Hey, someone’s got to keep the streets safe. And cats love me.”

Laughter ripples around the table, the tension from earlier dissipating completely. And as the conversation moves on, my thoughts drift again—to Bane and the night ahead.

Even as our gazes lock now, electricity sizzles through the connection. I squirm in my chair, feeling him everywhere even though he’s not even touching me.

“Oh, there’s my pain pig,” Quinn says, clocking someone just walking into the club area. She glances at her phone as she stands up, then clicks her teeth. “Two minutes late. Little shit. He’ll pay for that.”

She stalks over to him, barking, “On your knees, little piggie!”

The piggie in question absolutely lights up when he sees Quinn, then drops to his hands and knees obediently, head down.

“She does have a way with them,” Marcus says admiringly, watching her as she goes.

Caleb snorts. “It’s a lost cause, man. Give it up already.”

“What?” I ask, looking between them. “You like Quinn? But you’re both dominants.”

Marcus just rolls his eyes and downs the last swig of his whiskey. “I’ve got to get home. The babysitter could only stay until ten.”

Caleb laughs. “Marcus always wants what he shouldn’t.”

Marcus cuffs Caleb lightly on the back of the head as he stands up.

I turn, squirming, to Bane. I’ve officially waited as long as I can.

He looks at me over the glass of his sparkling water, eyes dark. Fuck . It’s not fair for a man to be so fucking hot. Especially in that mask, thinking of the filthy, combative way he likes to fuck me. All the while knowing the rest of the time, he wears a priest’s collar, patiently dealing with old ladies squabbling about who sat in their spot in the pew last Sunday.

He doesn’t have to say a word. He just gestures with the left to indicate it’s finally time.

I all but squirt in the panties he made me wear for the night as I leap to my feet to follow him.