Chapter 10: Chapter Ten

Raif took over one of the sofas in the players’ lounge, resting his eyes for a few moments before getting suited up for the game. The laughter of the men, the quiet chatter, faded away as he eased into an almost meditative state. He sensed a cold coming on, but he wasn’t concerned about it affecting his play. He was in good health and tended to shake viruses fairly quickly.

Louder laughter and a few whistles from the rookies brought up from the minors to replace Carter, Demyan…and Tyler. Raif slit his eyes open, eager for the three to finish their suspension. Mostly Tyler—denial was pointless. After a couple of games with the obnoxious rookies, he’d welcome even Demyan’s return. He glanced over at Zach and saw how he struggled to get loose from the grip their big goalie had on his arm. The goalie, Bower, looked ready to go after the rookies himself.

Jebi ga. Raif sat up as Rebecca Pearce headed toward him, ignoring both her brother and her husband. Rage blazed in her eyes, her whole body shook with it as she stopped in front of him, feet shoulder-width apart as though prepared for a fight. He moved to stand out of respect.

She shook her head and spoke through her teeth. “Sit. You’re going to sit there and listen to me, you sneaky son of a bitch.”

Zach twisted away from Bower. “Becky—”

“Shut up, Zach. If you won’t stand up for our relationship, then I will.” Her gray eyes flashed like lightning leaping between storm clouds. “I’ve had to tell bitches to back off my men, but I never thought I’d have to deal with one of their teammates. Zach’s a married man and that marriage includes Scott as much as it does me. If that hasn’t been made clear enough, it better be now.”

Quite an outspoken little thing, but Raif had no idea what she was talking about. Granted, he’d considered making a move at one point, but since Zach had made it perfectly clear he loved Demyan, Raif had backed off. Their time together was purely platonic, usually right here. His one consolation was that their friendship remained unscathed.

“That has been made clear, draga.” He shook his head when she blinked at him, and Bower gave him a hostile look. “Dear. I apologize, I mean it in all due respect.”

“You have my husband lying about where he goes during the day. You call that respect?”

Raif frowned and glanced over at Zach, who gave a covert shake of his head. The man wanted his wife to believe he’d been with Raif? When exactly? Today?

We will have words, my friend. Squaring his shoulders, Raif smiled at Becky. “Zach and I have history, but I see no reason for you to feel threatened. And I suggest any further issues be addressed to your husband.”

“You cocky bastard, you—”

“Becky, I need to see you in my office.” Callahan strode through the room, his dark eyes simmering with rage as he approached Becky. Becky’s lips parted as Zach and her brother blocked the assistant coach. Callahan shoved Bower out of his way. “Now.”

“You better fucking watch it, Coach.” Bower cracked the back of his hand into Callahan’s chest. “You ain’t her goddamn boss.”

“But I am yours. So back off.”

“Whatever you have to say to her, you can say here. I’m not letting you blast her.”

“I don’t recall asking your permission.”

Ovo je sve zajebano! So very fucked up, but the words in English didn’t match the intensity of the equivalent in his own language. Most of the players looked on in silence. The rookies elbowed one another, grinning.

Becky held her hand up to her brother and followed Callahan to his office. Bower turned to glare at the rookies. His shoulder slammed into Zach’s as he strode to the locker room.

Zach rubbed his hand over his face and groaned. “I’m really making a mess of things. Sorry, man.”

“I’ve never known you to be dishonest, Zach. What’s really going on?” Raif kept his voice low as he approached Zach. He wanted to put his hand on Zach’s shoulder in support, knowing his friend was going through something serious, but they’d drawn enough attention to themselves. “If it is an illness you should—”

“I’m not sick. Believe me, I would tell them if it was something like that. I can’t tell you more.”

“Considering you’ve involved me, I think you owe me an explanation.”

“Yes. I’m aware of that.” Letting out a sound of frustration, Zach shook his head and moved to pass by Raif. This time Raif did put his hand on the other man’s shoulder.

“You are hurting the people you love.”

“The damage would be so much worse if this got out. Leave it alone, Raif.”

There was no use in pushing Zach any further, Raif recalled exactly how stubborn he could be. He watched Zach disappear into the locker room, following only once most of the team was inside. They didn’t speak again as the clock counted down the minutes until the game would begin, which was probably for the best. Becky had walked out of the coach’s office and departed with her head down, looking red-faced with both anger and embarrassment. Aside from the rookies, the players were awkwardly silent. The captain, Dominik Mason, attempted to rouse up the men before they walked down the hall out to the ice, but his “Let’s get em, boys!” failed to reach through the lingering unease.

From the second the puck hit the ice, Raif could tell they would spend the game chasing the Red Wings. The lines were completely redone, and Callahan audibly ground his teeth as the head coach stupidly experimented with untried trios.

Raif cracked his knee hard on the board in surprise when he was sent out with Richards, a rookie who actually had the experience and skill to play on this level, but whom Raif had never done so much as a scrimmage with, and one of the new boys, Chris Spooner. The kid drove between the Wings’ forwards, snatching up the puck smoothly, but refused to pass to Richards, even though he was well positioned for a breakaway.

Doing his best to read Spooner’s erratic play, Raif sped into the offensive zone, keeping his stick low in case the kid ever decided to toss the puck his way. It didn’t take long to figure out Spooner wasn’t a team player. He took a shot right into a well-placed crowd of Wings, forcing the Cobras to retreat as the Wings went back on the attack.

Bower stretched out to catch the snapshot zipping toward the top left corner of the net. He went down to cover the puck as a forward slammed into him and the puck hit the blue ice. Mason hauled the Wing off the goalie and without warning, threw his fist in the man’s face. The ref immediately separated the two.

Mason was ejected from the game for misconduct. The head coach called a time-out.

They weren’t even ten minutes into the first period.

“What the fuck, Spooner! I was wide open!” Richards pushed Spooner into the boards as they skated up to join the rest of the team. “We’d be screwed if Bower hadn’t robbed them!”

“You know what, Richards?” Spooner leaned his forearms on the boards and gyrated his hips. “Why don’t you blow me? Might help relieve some stress.”

“Careful, Spooner, he might take you up on that.” Another one of the new rookies, Louis Caron, punched the third rookie, Brad Kelly, in the shoulder. “He’s one of the pretty ones—bet he likes sucking cock.”

A few feet away, the backup goalie, Dave Hunt, stood, stick in hand, looking ready to decapitate the three of them with it. “You better watch your mouth, Caron.”

“Afraid I’ll upset your boyfriend, Hunt?”

“He’s not my fucking boyfriend!”

“Damn it, that’s enough.” Callahan jerked Caron down to the bench by the back of his collar, glaring at the head coach who was going over something in his notebook with Mason and Ramos, oblivious to the rest of the team. Raif expected the assistant coach to tear the rookies a new one for their ignorant comments. Instead, Callahan went over to Hunt and took his stick away, propping it against the wall just out of reach. “I’d love to let you at them, sport, but we need them for the rest of this game at least.”

“You can’t do this without us, Callahan!” Spooner fist pumped Kelly. “Admit it!”

“Not like it matters what he thinks.” Caron added, inching up to the edge of his seat when Callahan stopped behind him. He eyed the assistant coach warily. “Just sayin’.”

“How about you just sit there for the next couple shifts, Caron?” Callahan smiled stiffly as he slapped Caron’s shoulder. “We can spend some time together and discuss how much it does matter.”

“You’re up, Caron!” The head coach called.

Callahan looked ready to kill the rookie when Caron smirked at him and vaulted over the boards. Perron latched onto Callahan’s wrist.

How quickly the assistant coach jerked away from his best friend, a man he shared a woman with, worried Raif. Between the inflammatory remarks of the rookies going unpunished and the head coach’s blatant disregard for Callahan’s attempt at discipline, there were some serious issues behind the bench.

The loss hit the whole team harder than usual. A few more and they’d slide out of the last place seat on the Eastern conference, but even that wasn’t enough to explain the lack of exchange between the men as they trailed out. As though they had better places to be. Better people to be around.

Rifts happened on every team—had happened with the Cobras before from what Raif had heard. This was different. The comments from the rookies hadn’t stopped and hadn’t been challenged by many. It was hard not to wonder at the clear division forming between the men who lived alternative lifestyles and…everyone else. Not a single man spoke to Zach, but Raif might have taken the blame for that if only those close to Demyan were being distant. Perron appeared neutral, and perhaps a little oblivious with all his attention on Callahan. Ramos remained focused as ever, never one to socialize, so it didn’t seem odd that he was gone after a brief exchange with Mason. Their starting goalie was fairly popular with their teammates, but for some reason Bower seemed watchful, quick to lose his temper with everyone, snapping at the most innocent comment. Hunt and Richards spoke only to one another in the locker room. And for the first time, didn’t leave together.

Raif knew he might be reading too much into things, and yet, he seriously doubted it. He’d felt this kind of tension before. In high school, even rumors of a student being gay would lead to the boy or girl being shunned—along with any who dared to remain their friends. And that wasn’t the worst of it by far. His own parents had supported him when he’d confessed an interest in the same sex, but both had been afraid for him. The laws in Croatia were progressive and protected him as much as any law could. The mind-set of the people he’d known all his life… Well, he’d never been good at deception and openness came with a price. Those who could not accept who he was made sure he’d never forget it.

He’d paid the price and stopped caring what anyone thought of him. He’d been judged by those who defined themselves as straight and gay. Only once had he ever regretted his choices. Mid-teens and everyone knew he liked boys. But they believed that meant he couldn’t possibly be interested in girls. Sweet temptation and a pretty smile nearly ruined his life. A stolen kiss behind the school with a girl who belonged to another—he hadn’t known, couldn’t have imagined the violent response. The blood of his precious dog in the dirt, painting out the words “Last warning, fag” had his parents packing up their home within the week. His father was a cardiac surgeon, so moving to America hadn’t been difficult. They’d been convinced life would be better here.

It had been, but Raif always knew that could change. He’d been prepared to deal with pretty much anything. Had been surprised by how many fans he had since he didn’t fit with the social norm in any way.

Stupid of him not to expect his team would eventually buckle under the pressure of having so many players who were…different. He wanted to be wrong. He wanted to see that nothing had changed after Pischlar had been exposed. Yet things had gotten progressively worse since the interview. Publicly, the team was behind the man. On the ice, their true feelings came out, and it showed a little more with each bitter loss.

He finally left the locker room, finding that some of the players hadn’t gone as far as he’d thought. The three rookies were surrounded by reporters and Mason was on one knee a short distance from them all, paying a lot of attention to the large sports bag he’d dropped in the middle of the hall. A cute blonde knelt next to him, nudging his shoulder with a fist and giving him a hesitant smile when he glanced up at her.

“Wasn’t that bad, Dominik. You’ll win the next one.”

“It was a loss.” Mason stood and slung the strap of his bag over his shoulder. His gruff tone softened as he faced her. “But I hope you’re right, Sahara. We need all the points we can get.”

The reporters finally cleared out and the rookies turned to admire Sahara, who didn’t seem to notice anyone besides Mason until Caron spoke up. “Damn, girl.” Caron let out a low whistle. “I’ve seen you perform before, but never up close. Love those cute little outfits you girls wear. Fucking hot.”

Pursing her lips, the blonde girl, Sahara, looked over at the rookies. “Thanks. I wish I could say the same about your performance.”

“Ouch.” Caron slapped his hands over his chest, feigning pain. “Your girl’s got a sharp tongue, Mason. But I bet she’s a hell of a step up from your fag hag.”

“What?” Mason dropped his bag and strode toward Caron. Raif cut in front of the big man, not sure why he bothered because the stupid boy desperately needed a lesson that involved losing a few teeth. Fortunately, Mason wasn’t trying too hard to get past Raif yet. Raif knew very well he couldn’t hold the enforcer back for long. And the low growl Mason released didn’t bode well for Caron. “You wanna repeat that?”

“Sure thing. Everyone knows why Callahan and Perron keep Oriana around. Ain’t foolin’ anyone, but I’m glad to see you ain’t like them.” Caron shrugged and glanced at Raif. “No offense, Zovko.”

“Of course.” Raif’s jaw hardened as he felt Mason shoving against him. He couldn’t care less what these children thought of him, but the big man obviously couldn’t say the same. “They do not matter, Mason.”

“You’re right, but I’m trying to understand. Maybe I’m a little slow.” Mason’s lips curved into a very dangerous smile. “What makes you think Oriana is a ‘fag hag’?”

“You gotta ask? You got a doll like that.” Caron pointed at Sahara. “And you’re gonna tell me Oriana wasn’t just a fat chick you fucked during a dry spell?”

Raif stepped aside, quickly catching Sahara before she could attempt to stop Mason from tearing the stupid rookie apart. A solid punch from Mason knocked Caron off his feet. Caron landed on his back, blood spilling over his chin as he crab-crawled away from Mason. Spooner and Kelly latched on to Mason’s arms, but he didn’t even slow down.

“Dominik!” Sahara screamed, then hid her face against Raif’s chest. “Please stop him. Oh God, please stop him!”

Trainers rushed out, followed by Callahan, who tackled Mason like a linebacker just as Mason dragged Caron to his feet. The three trainers managed to get the rookies back into the locker room while Callahan struggled with Mason, both men snarling at each other like they’d come to blows themselves.

Shaking hard, Sahara pushed away from Raif and headed toward the parking exit at the other end of the hall. Raif was torn between making sure the assistant coach and the defenseman didn’t kill each other and seeing to it that Sahara would be all right. He turned his back on the men and quickly caught up with the girl.

“I’m fine.” Sahara didn’t even look at him as she unlocked her car. “I can deal with hockey fights, but I don’t like violence. They will hurt each other. Especially when she’s involved.”

“You’re upset. You shouldn’t drive.”

“I won’t. Akira’s inside with Silver working over some details for next week’s Family Day. She’ll be down soon. I’ll stay in my car to keep warm and wait for her.”

A car pulled into the garage and parked beside Sahara’s. Cort and Ford got out, Cort giving Raif a nod of greeting before stepping up to Sahara’s side.

Ford joined them a bit more slowly, twisting his lips and shifting his gaze when Raif glanced over at him. “Uh, hey, Zovko. Think I’d better apologize.”

“For what exactly?” Raif couldn’t recall anything the young man had ever done to warrant an apology. And apparently, if Cort’s frown was anything to go by, neither could he.

“You think Demyan, Carter, and Vanek know how to hot-wire a car?” Ford stuffed his hands in his pockets and rested his hip on the hood of Sahara’s car. “Was feeling almost…I don’t know, like high, from the scene. Seemed like a good idea at the time. Was a dick thing to do.”

“Damn it, Ford!” Cort groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. He shot a half-smile at Raif. “I’ll give you two minutes to make him pay if you don’t bring this to the cops. I’ve got enough trouble with the law to last us a lifetime.”

Tempting, but no. Sahara had gone pale at Cort’s suggestion. Ford stiffened as though prepared to defend himself.

Shaking his head, Raif gestured to the door back in. “If he will stay with her while you aid me in separating Callahan and Mason, we’ll call it even.”

“Done.” Cort gave Ford a hard look, then led the way inside. The struggle had escalated to blows as Raif had predicted. Mason knocked Callahan into a metal partition and cracked him in the jaw with his fist. Cort grabbed the big defenseman, spun him into the wall and put a thick forearm against his throat.

Raif barred his arm across Callahan’s chest, holding him back as the assistant coach spat blood on the floor and glared at Mason. “I should fucking bench you for the next few games. You seriously let a bunch of rookies get under your skin?”

“You didn’t hear what they fucking said!” Mason latched on to Cort’s forearm, trying to break free. “Let me go, Cort.”

“You wanna play, Mason, you’ll be doing it with me.” Cort bared his teeth in a feral smile. “And I’m good with that.”

“Cort, we are not even if you add to the problem.” Raif seriously wondered if the lot of them were insane. Callahan was laughing, which only angered Mason more. But Raif’s words seemed to have gotten through to Cort, because he spoke quietly until Mason stopped struggling.

Finally, Cort released Mason, who turned to the garage exit, then paused. “I still love her, Sloan. It’s over and I know that, but I won’t tolerate anyone hurting her. Not them. And not you.”

“Are we back on that, Dominik? I don’t hurt her in any way that she doesn’t enjoy. I give her everything she needs.” Callahan shrugged out of Raif’s hold. Then he shook his head and sighed. “I’ve been working on the rest. You weren’t wrong, man. I hope that helps.”

“People think you’re using her as a cover for you and Max.”

What should have shocked Callahan only made him laugh again. He moved past both Raif and Cort to put a hand on Mason’s arm. “We both know that’s not true. I could get all pissed off and argue that I’m straight every time someone says shit like that, but I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks.”

His words didn’t appear to comfort Mason, for he continued out without commenting or looking back. Callahan watched him go. Sighed again, then returned to the locker room, leaving Raif and Cort standing alone in the hall.

Cort cracked his knuckles and grinned at Raif. “That was too quick to count. I still owe you.”

Raif chuckled. “If you insist.”

“Worth whatever you need to keep my boy out of jail.” Cort held the door open as they made their way to the parking garage. “’Course, since you dropped the charges, might be nothin’ to worry about, but I can’t have him pulling this kinda bullshit with players on his family’s team. He pretends not to care, but he needs the team to make the playoffs as much as his sisters do. So you tell me if there’s anything I can do to help.”

If only it was that simple. Raif watched Mason walk to his car alone, still tense with anger and frustration. Aside from the assistant coach, as the team’s captain, Mason was who the team took the lead from. He’d been doing as well as could be expected until now, but he clearly needed to get the weight off his shoulders before the next game.

“It would be good if I knew what I could do to help,” Raif said.

Cort followed his gaze. “I had a brother like him once—I mean, a man I rode with. He lost a girl, and we all thought he was dealing just fine. But he never talked to anyone about it. He’s doing life now. Mason took care of my girl for a while. He’s trained me a bit, but he never talks about her.”

“Akira?” Raif observed the girl, who must have gone around the front, because she now stood with Ford and Sahara and had somehow gotten the blonde girl to relax and smile. “He trains you and still feels something for—”

“No. He wasn’t in love with Akira.” Just saying her name brought a smile to Cort’s lips. Then he drew in a deep breath. “Oriana, though…I mean, her and Mason are in a good place. Friends or whatever. But if you wanna help him, you should probably get him drunk.”

That would be insane. Raif couldn’t handle Mason sober. If the man got drunk, he’d likely have to call Cort in for reinforcement. Again.

Cort laughed and held out his hand. “Give me your phone and I’ll add my number. Call me if he goes nuts, but I think it’ll be fine. He don’t drink often. Last time I saw him tie on a few, he was pretty relaxed.”

Raif handed over his phone, and after getting the phone number for potential reinforcement, went over to where Mason was still sitting in his car, staring blindly at the dashboard. There had been more than enough time for the car to warm up. But Mason didn’t look ready to go anywhere.

He dropped his head back against the seat and rolled down his window at Raif’s approach. “Feel like celebrating our loss with me?”

No sure whether or not he’d lost something in translation, Raif hesitated. Then shrugged and nodded. “I would. But we’re taking my car if I’m going to be the designated driver.”

Mason laughed. “You’re just gonna sit there and watch me get drunk?”

“Yes.”

“Shit, I don’t give a fuck what anyone says. I like you, man.”

That had Raif grinning back. Besides Richards and Tyler, he didn’t have many fans on the team. And beside Zach, no friends. The night might not be a complete loss after all.

Even if he had to bail his new “friend” out of jail by the end of the night.

* * * *

Laura’s second shift of the day was almost over. Time to head home. To her empty house.

How sad was it that she sort of wished Tyler was there. His suspension was nearly over, but for some reason he’d decided this morning he needed to fly down to see his mom. She’d moved back to Tyler’s birth town in Greenville, North Carolina. With her new boyfriend.

Tyler hadn’t sounded happy about it when he’d called to let Laura know he’d be gone. As far as Laura was concerned, he was a little old to resent his mother’s boyfriends, but what did she know?

She coughed miserably, pulling a tissue from the box on the passenger seat to blow her nose at a red light. Dispatch came on the radio. “701.”

Her unit number. She picked up her handheld. “701. Go ahead, dispatch.”

“We have a 407 in progress at Claddagh Pub at 15 Portland Street. Code 1.”

Wonderful. Why not end the night off with a few drunks? She sighed and nodded. “701 copy and in progress.”

A strange sound came through the radio, like a distorted laugh. “701 contact dispatch via phone for specific details.”

Shaking her head, she pulled out her phone. Since it was a code one, meaning she didn’t need her sirens or lights on, there was no need to rush over without getting the details first. She made the call to dispatch.

“This is Dispatcher Lambert.”

“Unit 701 responding.”

“Hey, Tallent. Just wanted to give you a heads up that we saved this one just for you,” the young dispatcher said cheerfully. “Sounds like a few of your Cobra boys are drunk again—they’re making ol’ man Roget nervous.”

“For Christ’s sake, they aren’t my Cobras. You guys are having fun with this, aren’t you?” She gnashed her teeth, staring out into the darkness as a few fluffy white snowflakes began drifting down. She took her job seriously; she’d worked her ass off to earn the respect of her fellow officers, and now, because of Tyler, she was being mocked by everyone at post.

To top it off, she was pretty sure she knew where she’d caught this damn cold. She blew her nose again and slumped back into her seat. The boy was ruining her fucking life.

Whine a little more, why don’t you, Tallent? Just deal with the stupid hockey players and get home to bed.

Lambert cleared his throat. “I can send someone else if you want. Sorry, Tallent, Hamilton thought you’d find it as funny as we do, but maybe not.”

Freakin’ Ryan. Of course. Only her foster brother worked crazier hours than she did and would find something like this funny. “It’s fine, Lambert.”

“You sure?”

“Have a good night, bub.” Laura smiled as she hung up, picturing the young man, always so eager to please and crushing so bad on her foster brother that he’d risk pissing her off. To a point. Ryan was completely oblivious, but he was married to his job. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone out on a date. She definitely didn’t want details.

But Lambert wanted to be just like Ryan, had worshipped him for a long time. Which made her think of how Tyler had been with Raif. From what she could make out from the confusing sidestep of a line dance those two men were in, Tyler went from going all in to chickening out completely. And Raif wouldn’t act like a damn Dom and be firm with the boy.

Her lips curved as she pulled up in front of the bar and got out. Raif being a firm anything was actually kinda hot. She could admit that, even if it did nothing for her lady bits. Seeing his car parked in front of the Claddagh Pub put her in a better mood. Maybe she could give the Dom a very polite, very submissive, nudge in the right direction.

Not that she would let him off easy if he was involved in the disturbance, but she could let him off with a warning if he was just being a little loud. Slip in the nudge and hope he could take over from there.

Being in control is a Dom’s duty, after all. Did he miss the memo? Not something she’d ever say out loud, but she let out a laugh under her breath as she pushed open the heavy door made of thick wood planks painted a bright grass green.

The sweet scent of spirits and cigars hit her as she crossed the threshold. She strode up to the bar, nodding to Mr. Roget who was wringing his long-fingered hands and staring at something toward the back of the bar. He must have been really worried, and not just because he’d called. There were wet circles from the beer bottles all along his precious walnut bar top. He’d had the place redone a few years back and had spent a fortune on wood for the shelves, the tables, and the bar. His waitresses had to pass the test of putting drinks on coasters for the patrons they served before getting hired long-term.

A particular old man, but nice enough. Made a damn good stew and encouraged police presence by letting them eat free here whenever they had enough time for a sit-down lunch or supper.

She was going to have a word with “her Cobras” about bothering him. But first, she needed to find out what they’d done. She inclined her head to the bartender. “Good evening, Mr. Roget. I’m here about the disturbance?”

“Those big boys—hockey players, I’ve heard about the trouble they’ve been causing, but I never believed it until I saw it for myself.” Mr. Roget shook his head, staring past her as though remembering something from the past. “Players in the old days had respect. They’d be dirty on the ice, but gentlemen the rest of the time. Nothing like these big brutes who—”

“I understand.” She hated to interrupt, but if she didn’t they’d get nowhere. “Could you tell me what they were doing, Mr. Roget?”

“They’ve been taking shots of whiskey and guzzling beer. Not that I mind a man who appreciates his liquor, but they’re dangerous. My poor girl—”

Laura inhaled very, very slowly. This might be worse than she’d expected. But she had to stay calm. Assume nothing. “Was one of your waitresses injured?”

“I’m not sure how she couldn’t have been! That big black man knocked her right off her feet, then picked her up like a rag doll and sat her on his table.” Mr. Roget looked scandalized. “And they haven’t let her leave! I would have told the dispatcher it was urgent if she’d struggled at all, but the girl has no damn sense.”

“I see.” Laura kept her expression neutral, but she had a feeling Mr. Roget was used to an older clientele that didn’t have his girls all giggly and gushy. The Cobras using his bar as a new hangout wouldn’t go over well, but she couldn’t force them to stay away unless they’d actually done something wrong. “Was there any damage done?”

“All the glasses on her tray! Broken! And those boys wouldn’t even let her clean up the mess. They…” His face went red. He shook his head again. “They need to go. I won’t press charges if they leave now.”

“I've got the gist of what is going on. I am gonna have them settle their tab, pay for the broken glasses, and leave a big tip. I will ask them to leave.” She was happy to see the old bartender relax a bit more with her every word. This should go smoothly. “If they refuse then I will be forced to take action.”

The last was said mostly for Mr. Roget’s benefit, but as she approached the table all the way in the back, she wondered if she’d spoken too soon. Just the soft, gentle rumble of Raif’s laugh made the hairs on the back of her neck rise. Even without catching exactly what he said, hearing the deep resonance of Dominik Mason’s voice gave her a little rush. She had goose bumps, which made it harder to keep up the shield of badass bitch cop.

Not one Dom, but two. Neither were easy to deal with alone at the club. Both?

You’re not at the club. They’ll understand.

They hadn’t noticed her yet. The waitress had, but she kept her attention locked on Dominik’s each and every word.

“She’s a wonderful woman. I don’t know why people say bad things about her.” Dominik glanced over at Raif and frowned. “Wish you’d stop taking my damn phone, man.”

“You’ll thank me tomorrow, Mason.” Raif rested his hand on the table by the waitress’s hip. Laura scowled as the twit, a fake-boobed brassy blonde who looked like she’d bathed in tanning spray, wiggled her hips and giggled.

And Mr. Roget’s blaming the men for the disturbance?

“I’m only gonna call Oriana to give her a heads-up. I liked that she used to need me. Akira used to need me too, but I call her this late and me and Cort’s gonna have words. Kinda like him.” Mason pinched the flesh between his eyes as though he was thinking hard. “Could call him. He gets Ford to check on Oriana and it won’t be weird.”

Brassy blonde put her hand on Dominik’s cheek. “Or you could just stay here and hang out with me. I really appreciate how you saved me from—”

That’s quite enough. Laura stepped forward after sharply clearing her throat. “Hi, guys. Sorry to cut the night short, but you’re going to have to settle your tab, pay for the damages, and finish off your night somewhere else.”

Dominik’s lips slanted into a half-smile. Then he reached out and slammed the back of his hand into Raif’s chest. “I’m glad you’re here, officer. This man stole my property.”

“Dominik, I think you should let Raif take you home.” Laura had to fight hard not to laugh at the way the big Dom blinked at her, like she wasn’t speaking English. He was always so composed at the club. Only lost it on the ice while defending his men. But she’d never thought she’d see the day he’d try to drunk dial his ex. Still, she had a job to do. “We don’t want any trouble here.”

“No trouble. Didn’t see this little girl walking by.” Dominik slung his arm over the waitress’s shoulders, making her giggle again like a toy that made noise when you shook it. Only more annoying. “Don’t mind paying for the broken glasses.”

The waitress covered her mouth with her hand and rested her head on Dominik’s chest. “You cleaned up all that glass, and it’s my fault I’m such a klutz. I’ll cover the damn glasses. You can’t arrest them for this! I won’t let you!”

Oh joy. The men she could deal with, but the way Brassy blonde was glaring, she was going to be a problem. But Laura had dealt with mouthy drunk females before. This girl just needed to be reminded Laura was law enforcement, not competition.

“Ma’am, please take a seat and shut up before I’m forced to arrest you for public intoxication,” Laura said in full cop faux pleasantness. She kinda hoped the girl would give her an excuse to haul her ass to jail. If she’d been doing her damn job instead of flirting, the men could’ve enjoyed their night in peace.

Brassy blonde sat up straight, her eyes wide. “This is a bar, you—”

Raif cut her off with a finger over her lips. “Hush now. You don’t want to make the nice police officer mad, do you? Dominik will blame himself for buying you so many drinks.”

That Raif referred to Laura as “the nice police officer,” almost as though he didn’t know her, pleased her more than it should have. She had trouble not letting it show.

“It’s not his fault.” Brassy blonde hugged Dominik’s arm. He was busy staring at the pay phone between the male and female bathroom doors. “He was very sweet.”

“He was. Please bring us the bill, Susan.”

All right, she liked Raif even more now. His direct tone had the waitress slipping off the table with little more than a sigh. Once she was gone, Laura figured the worst was over.

Until Dominik put his hands on Laura’s waist and picked her up. She was too shocked to protest until he put her down out of his path. But he clucked his tongue when she opened her mouth. “We can discuss this in a moment, sweetie. I just need another beer.”

Enough is enough. Before he could take a step away from her, she grabbed his forearm, her other hand on her portable by instinct, ready to call in backup. This time, the sharp words came without hesitation. “Mr. Mason, we are not friends here. Assaulting an officer—which includes putting your hands on me in any manner—is a very serious offense.”

He stopped. Went perfectly still. And stared at her. “I’m sorry, Laura.”

“Officer Tallent. And I would like you to come with me.” Without releasing his arm, she led him straight out of the bar, not bothering to check if Raif was following. She had nothing on Raif and this situation needed to be dealt with. She didn’t stop until she got to her unit. She opened the back door and pointed at the backseat. “Sit.”

Dominik sat. Wet his lips a few times, parting them as though to speak. Pressing them shut and rubbing them with his fist when he changed his mind and remained silent.

Good boy. She took a few minutes to calm down and ease off the adrenaline rush. If she’d been dealing with anyone besides one of the Cobras—one of the Doms she trusted absolutely at the club—she wouldn’t have thought twice about calling backup. Having dealt with such a big man alone, even though he was harmless, went against all her training.

But he was cooperating. She was fine.

What the fuck am I going to do with him now? She ran her tongue over her teeth, watching him watching her. “I should arrest you for that, Dominik. What the hell were you thinking?”

“I apologize, pe—”

“You call me pet again while I’m in uniform and you’ll be sleeping behind bars. I give this advice a lot, but I suggest you take it very seriously. Do not say another word. Let Raif—” Did Dominik even know his teammate’s first name? “—Zovko bring you home. Sleep it off. And don’t come back to this bar. Nod if you understand.”

He nodded.

“Good.” She inhaled deeply, glancing over as the front door of the bar opened and Raif came out. He approached slowly. Stopped at a respectful distance. “I paid the tab, the damages, and gave the owner extra for the trouble we caused. This won’t happen again.”

“Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Zovko. And you’ll see that Mr. Mason gets home safe?”

“I will.”

“Good.” That settled, she let herself smile a little. “When you have a minute, I’d like to speak to you.”

“Would you?” His brow lifted slightly. “On official business?”

She would not blush. Asking to talk to him wasn’t inappropriate, but he made her feel like it was. “No.”

“Then it can wait. Please call me if there’s any other issues that arise because of tonight.” He waited patiently as she got out her pad and pen. Gave her his number. Then offered Dominik his hand after making sure the man was free to go. “I think you’ll regret this enough to last you quite a while. Aren’t you glad I didn’t let you call Oriana?”

“Don’t remind me about that, please.” Dominik rubbed his hand over his face. Glanced at her. Didn’t say a word before heading to Raif’s car. “The boys hear about this, I’ll never live it down.”

Raif chuckled, then gave Laura a look that tempted her to toss her badge and gun into the backseat. “Would it be wrong of me to say you may use my number for any reason?”

His husky tone did very bad things to her tough, professional self. She was pretty sure her inner slut was trying to smother her goddamn dignity.

She planned to nod. Shook her head instead.

“You may have your minute once I see him home. Under one condition.”

She shivered as she met his eyes. “Which is?”

That evil smile he gave her was downright criminal. “You will not be wearing that uniform.”

* * * *

A change of clothes and switching from a bun to a ponytail shouldn’t make Laura feel this vulnerable. Blue jeans, a Johnny Cash T-shirt, and a big black bomber jacket—she didn’t look like law enforcement, but she was usually fine hanging around other officers dressed like this. Just one of the guys.

But standing on the sidewalk in front of the condo where Raif lived, she knew if she went inside, she wouldn’t be anything other than a sub meeting privately with a Dom. She’d known from the second he’d said “Hello” when she’d called him, minutes after getting home. No matter what her intentions were, that switch would be flipped the second he looked at her, or spoke to her. If she went inside, she’d hand over her control all too willingly.

She couldn’t make herself move.

Her submission to Chicklet was always so liberating, so pure, simply surrendering, the only pleasure she took was from pleasing her Mistress. What she’d come here for was anything but.

You’re not doing anything wrong. Tyler wants this. She took a deep breath. Let it out in a puff of white air. You’re just helping him get it.

She reached out to pull the glass door open.

A low laugh from the shadows made her jump. Her hand went to her hip. She wasn’t armed.

“So jumpy, pet. I apologize. I wasn’t expecting you to ever go in.”

Raif. She was almost relieved to see him, except for the very strong urge to smack him for scaring her. She watched him approach, trembling already at the sight of those warm brown eyes with a predatory gleam, eyes that saw right through her. Those big hands covered in black leather that could—that would restrain her so easily.

“What are you doing out here?” Her pulse quickened as he trailed a gloved finger down her cheek, filling her senses with his presence. Leather, a faded musky cologne, heat and power. “Were you waiting for me?”

“Yes.” His finger ran lightly over her closed eyelids, her nose, her lips, as though he was memorizing every detail of her face. When his hand left her she opened her eyes, then let out a surprised laugh at his half-smile, the way his hair fell across his forehead making him look less intimidating and more…human. It was strange how the supremacy of a Dom could make them seem almost godlike. But for an instant, Raif was simply a man. “I didn’t come outside only for you. I smoked when I was younger—it’s been a long time since I quit. The hardest part was not having an excuse to go outside, no matter what the weather or time of day. Once I decided I didn’t need an excuse, it was much easier.”

“But you had an excuse this time.” They were standing too close together for him to act…real. She wanted the godlike presence. The man who would take control before she did something she’d regret.

“I suppose I did.” He took her hand in his, drawing her in so their bodies aligned. “Are you cold?”

More like blazing hot, but she was trembling. The surge of lust every time he touched her made her plans that much harder because she shouldn’t feel this way. She shook her head, staring at the wall behind him, hating that she could still think at all.

Chicklet would have known, would have seen that she needed her brain to shut down. Why couldn’t Raif see it?

You don’t need that. Focus!

“I’m not cold, but I do need to talk to you.” She flattened her hands on his chest and his muscles flexed. Hell, she could feel the solidness of them even through all the layers. “I need to—”

“You respond to me, Laura. Like any woman would. But it seems to make you uncomfortable. I can see you struggling with your own desire.” He kissed her cheek, the gesture more comforting than anything. “You haven’t come for release. Why are you here?”

How could he be so wrong? She tipped her head back and she wanted those soft lips on hers, turning hard and rough as he took her mouth. She wanted to feel his solid grip on her arms, in her hair. For him to tell her to forget about everything else.

And yet…where would that get her? If she gave him control, gave him this one night to do whatever he wanted to her, tomorrow things would remain the same. If she could make him see that Tyler could belong to him, they would all be happy in the end. She just had to keep reminding herself why she was here.

Maybe it would help if she told him at least a bit of the truth. “I’m here for Tyler.”

Raif’s expression shifted, his eyes narrowing and his body becoming stiff before he moved away from her. His gloved hands tightened into fists. His lips curved in a bitter smile. “Has he sent you to help him with the task your Mistress assigned him? I will tell you what I told him. Find another Dom—I’ve no interest in this game.”

“This isn’t a game! Raif, please listen to me.” She bit down hard on her bottom lip when he motioned impatiently for her to go on. She hadn’t anticipated Raif’s reaction. Almost as though he resented her trying to help. She chanced putting her hand on his arm, relief filling her when he didn’t brush her off. “Chicklet sees what Tyler feels for you. So do I. The way he talks about you… I don’t know, maybe I’m wasting my time because he’s still young and he clearly can’t tell anyone what he really wants. Being young and a sub? It would take a very patient Dom to deal with—”

“Careful, Laura.” Raif’s tone was sharp and his level look froze her. “The only thing that will displease me more than being used is any attempt to manipulate me. Be up front about what you want from me.”

“This is about what I want for him. When Tyler touches me, I know he’s desperate for something I can’t give. He’s always attentive to my needs, but I can see his aren’t being met.” Granted, that was only during their quickie the other night, but the specifics weren’t going to help her case. “He told me what you expect from him.”

The anger faded from Raif’s eyes as he released a soft laugh. “Did he? I’m guessing Chicklet wasn’t there when you had this…conversation?”

Laura blushed and shook her head. “She’s taking care of her dad’s bar.”

“And when the cat’s away… But you have claws too, don’t you, my little mouse? I’m not sure Tyler knows how dangerous sharing his feelings with you is.”

“I’d never hurt him.”

“But I could, and I don’t think you care. Be honest. The second you became aware of his interest in me—” his tone changed, became slow and sultry, contrasting his blunt words “—you saw a way to get rid of him. To have Chicklet all to yourself.”

Put that way it sounded horrible. Her throat tightened and she shook her head. “No. I—”

“Hush. It’s all right. I understand. And I may consider helping you.” He took a few steps back and reached out for the silver handle on the glass door. “Will you come in now?”

Still dangerous, but she had nothing left to lose. Raif had her all figured out. Going in would mean letting go for a little while to a man without her Mistress there to make it okay. But the night would result in so much more than giving Raif whatever he wanted from her. In return he’d give her exactly what she needed.

Which was the life she’d had with Chicklet before Tyler came along. Calm and controlled, Laura doing Chicklet’s each and every whim happily, no matter how twisted and depraved they could be, because that’s what Laura lived for. To belong to Chicklet wholly.

To be the only one who did.