Bound by the Past (20 page)

She continued writing in her book until he decided it was time to set the tone with her. Unwilling to be ignored, he cleared his throat. “Hello, Mother dear.”

“Don’t you dare call me that, Jon Walker. Someone might hear you.” Cassandra looked up and glanced around him to make sure the door was closed to prying ears.

“Yes, I imagine it wouldn’t help your youthful image for people to realize you have a thirty-two-year-old son.

“Shhhh.” Cassandra hissed before putting down her pen and composing herself. He had always been amazed by her hair-trigger emotions. She could be furious and snarling like a wet cat one second and sweet as honey the next. Her displeasure at his greeting dissolved and she offered what anyone who didn’t know her might mistake as genuine delight at seeing her long-lost son. “I must say, I’m surprised you came, Jon.”

Her gaze landed on Night and she smiled smugly. “Night, my dear, dear boy. I knew I could count on you coming to see me, but Jon…” She looked back toward him. “I was concerned, now that you’d become a respectable teacher, you would be too good to associate with the likes of me. I was so very worried you hadn’t forgiven me for the way I abandoned you.”

Jon narrowed his eyes. He was uneasy with his mother’s knowledge of his career. Exactly how much did she know about them? Surely if she knew the whole truth, she wouldn’t have asked to see them. What would they do if she’d discovered their role in destroying the cult fifteen years ago? Something about the way she’d said the word
abandoned
echoed in his mind. This could be a trap after all—and they’d left their weapons at home. Given the security system they’d just passed through it was a good thing, but he felt naked without the extra protection.

“Keeping tabs on me, Mother?” He spoke the word provokingly, hoping she would show her hand quickly. He wasn’t in the mood to prolong this reunion any more than necessary. Hell, right now, he’d settle for grabbing Carly and running as fast and as far as his feet would take them. It had definitely been a mistake for him to come. All the old anger and resentment he thought he’d shed over the years came bubbling up. “I didn’t know you cared. I’m touched.”

“You will call me Cassandra.” She clenched her teeth tightly and she was fighting to maintain her composure. “I admit when I decided to look you and Night up, I certainly didn’t expect to find what I did. Who’d have guessed my sex-stud son would actually graduate from college? High school English teacher. I had a good long laugh when I heard that one. What a clever man you’ve grown up to be. All those sweet young girls at your disposal. What exactly does a girl have to do to earn an ‘A’ in your class, Jon?”

Christ. Only his mother would be proud of a son she believed to be a pedophile. He swallowed hard, his hands clasped into fists at his sides. Night cleared his throat and again Reilly’s words washed through his mind.

Head, not heart, Jon.

Punching the woman—Mother or not—wouldn’t gain her trust and, much as it rubbed against the grain, he needed her trust to succeed in destroying her once and for all. He had to keep his cool. Obviously she wouldn’t reveal anything if she sensed his hostility. It was time to change tactics. Jon took a deep breath and considered the way she studied him intently, then he quickly changed the subject. “I’m surprised you came back here to set up house again. Where on earth did you dig up Sammy after all these years?”

Cassandra grinned, preening under what she falsely believed to be his praise. “He found me, actually. He’d spent thirteen years in prison before he was granted parole. As soon as he was released, he returned to his mistress. I had to retrain him again, of course, but he’s proven himself to be a worthy slave.”

“Sign out front says Women’s Retreat Center. No cult this time around?” Jon noticed for the first time his mother wasn’t as composed as she seemed. He detected a slight trembling in her hands and her voice sounded surprisingly strained, as if she was finding it difficult to speak. Was she nervous—or angry?

“I’ve turned over a new leaf, Jon. You aren’t the only one who can do such a thing, you know. I’ve spent years eaten up with remorse over my part in Rex’s damn cult. Of course, the man had brainwashed me, so I suppose I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”

Jon felt rather than heard Night’s soft growl. He moved toward the window, hoping to distract Cassandra from seeing Night’s anger while giving his friend a chance to cool off.

Jon laughed at her words. “A new leaf? Come on, Cassandra. You forget who you’re talking to. Do you really expect us to believe you’re truly helping women in need?”

“I’m offering them a new life, one completely different from whatever they’re running from. I was actually hoping the two of you would help me. I’ve missed you both so much these past few years, but I was afraid you were angry and wouldn’t want to see me. I’d like for us to try to be a family again, Jon, and this new business venture could be the way.”

“What do I know about helping abused women? Or Night, for that matter? We’re not psychologists or counselors,” Jon said.

Cassandra laughed and the high-pitched sound made the hairs on his arms stand on end. “Oh, but my dear boy, we all know you both have other talents when it comes to women.”

When Night spoke, Jon noticed his friend had apparently regained control of his temper. Night’s voice was calm and casual as he joked with her. “Cassandra, the only talent we possess in terms of women comes at the end of a whip.”

The entire composure of Cassandra’s face twisted from edginess to outright glee. “So the two of you still use your training? The training I gave you?”

Night gave a cold chuckle. “It’s not like we’re bound to forget something like that. How could we go back to vanilla sex once we’d gorged ourselves on banana splits for years?”

Cassandra broke into delighted peals of laughter. Jon forced a grin to his lips.

“Wonderful, wonderful. And you still perform together?”

“More often than not.” Jon was impressed by the coolness of Night’s answers. Reilly had been right to send them in together. When one faltered, the other was there to pick up the slack. Jon could never have maintained his composure throughout this entire conversation alone.

“Why do you want to know? If this is truly a retreat center for domestic abuse victims, I hardly think you need two Doms,” Jon said. Cassandra looked as if she wanted to dispute that fact, but she hesitated.

So…Mommie Dearest wasn’t quite ready to welcome them back to the fold.

Night must have noticed, as he offered her another nudge. “I’ll admit, Cassandra, we’ve looked for you from time to time. We visit The Devil’s Lair whenever we’re in the city together, but you’ve never been there. Don’t tell me
you’re
the one who’s turned vanilla?”

Jon smiled at Night’s mention of the underground sex club. Cassandra would be familiar with the name, and the fact they were members would go a long way toward convincing her they were still involved in the scene.

“The Devil’s Lair.” Cassandra’s face betrayed her interest. “That’s quite an exclusive club. Belongs to Roberto Marcelli, doesn’t it?”

“Jonathan Price owns The Devil’s Lair.” Jon’s answer was smooth. Apparently his mother wasn’t finished throwing up hoops for them to jump through. “Marcelli operates
his
club, Twilight, out of L.A.”

“Oh that’s right, how silly of me.”

“Cassandra, why don’t we cut to the chase? After fifteen years of silence, I find it hard to believe you called us here to chat about your charitable endeavors. If there’s an interesting offer on the table I’d like to hear it, and I can tell you right now, I don’t find weepy women particularly interesting. Unless, of course, they’re crying for more.” Night’s voice was perfect. Powerful with just the right amount of desperation. If Cassandra really had bought the company line, she would think Night was currently between lousy jobs and not averse to participating in her shady dealings.

“Dear Night. You are so much like your father. Too impatient to pay attention to the social niceties.”

“Time is money, Cassandra.”

“So it is. Your father was fond of that saying as well. You look quite a lot like him, you know. With his fair hair and boyish good looks, it’s no wonder he was as successful as he was. Women would follow him into fire without question. I suspect the same holds true for you.”

“I hold my own with the fairer sex.” Only Jon saw the slight tension in Night’s body as Cassandra compared him to his father. Night tried very hard to divorce himself from any possible comparisons. As much as Jon looked like his mother, Night was the mirror image of his father. Fate could play cruel tricks at times.

“I bet you do. And you, Jon?” Cassandra turned her attention back to him. “With your respectable background, I confess I’m surprised to hear you aren’t married.”

“Marriage limits a man’s options.” His reply was straight from the
Cassandra Walker Book of Quotes
.

She laughed. “So you really
do
remember your training. I’ve always wondered. The two of you were magnificent together in the dungeon. To see you claim a woman’s body, to whip and chain her, to play her like a violin was a thing of beauty. In all my life, I must admit the things I’m most proud of are the two of you.”

He gritted his teeth against the words that threatened to fly out.

His mother’s crowning glory? Them?

Christ. The woman was deranged.

“And this retreat?” Night was obviously trying to get the conversation back on track, sensing Jon’s sudden anger. Night gave him a quick warning glance.

“Actually, now that the two of you are here, everything seems to be falling right into place.”

“How so?” Night asked.

“I’m in need of trainers.”

“At a domestic abuse shelter?” Jon tried to make the words seem light and unconcerned, but he was afraid he fell a bit short of the mark.

Cassandra narrowed her eyes. He watched her study him once again with suspicion and distrust.

Night chuckled and Cassandra turned her gaze to him. “Is something funny, Night?”

“Not at all. It’s quite ingenious, actually. The shelter is a ruse, isn’t it? You lure these women here with the promise of safety and then…?”

Night paused, hoping Cassandra would fill in the blank, but she merely graced his friend with a sinister smile.

“Oh I can assure you this is a shelter. We have helped countless women. In fact, we’ve found employment for several of the women with some of the local businesses. They’re set to embark on their new lives as independent women at the beginning of next week.”

Jon was confused by her comments. Cassandra really
was
operating an aboveboard shelter? Night, however, seemed to grasp the lie between her words.

Night smiled and nodded. “Brilliant. I take my hat off to you, Cassandra. This is an amazing setup.”

Cassandra preened under Night’s praise. “You’re so much like your father, Night. He would have adored this plan if his mind hadn’t been so twisted by all those delusions of grandeur. Silly man had such a God complex. No amount of reasoning would beat it out of him. And believe me, I tried.”

The image of a bustier-clad Cassandra standing over a bound Rex with a whip in her hand flew through Jon’s memories. His mother had definitely worn the leather pants in her relationship with the Reverend Thomas. One quick glance at Night confirmed he’d already suspected Rex’s secret penchant for submission. It certainly explained why he’d so readily renounced his harem and Night’s mother upon Cassandra’s arrival.

“Clearly,” Cassandra continued, “a college degree isn’t everything.”

Jon felt the insult but refused to rise to the bait.

Night pretended not to hear Cassandra’s slur and continued complimenting her plan. “So you separate the women into groups? Marketable and unmarketable? Is that about right?”

Cassandra grinned evilly, yet she didn’t seem ready to confess all. Not that a confession would make a difference. Regardless of what his mother told them in this room, they would need proof if they intended to see her arrested and prosecuted.

“Not all women who come here of their own accord would be appropriate for my self-improvement program. By coming and receiving top-notch care, finding safety within these walls, those who don’t match our needs can be sent out as missionaries. Ah,” Cassandra glanced heavenward, “Rex would have loved that word.”

Jon could have told his mother she’d be better off looking toward the floor when speaking of that devil, but he bit his tongue.

“And the women you’ve helped?” Jon prodded.

“Spread the word to other women. In just a few months, I’ve managed to snare quite a few suitable young women.”

Jon felt nauseous at the thought. Cassandra’s plan was the most brutal and heartless type of exploitation he could imagine. By preying on the defenseless, she was using her victims to lure in even more women.

“And how many suitable women have you acquired?” Night asked. Jon was more and more impressed by his friend’s smooth exterior.

“There are roughly forty women and children here now, and of those, there are at least eight who meet the criteria for my special program. I’ve taken the liberty of separating them from the rest. Out of sight, out of mind, you know. The residents think the women chose to return to their abusers. Actually, it’s quite funny. The majority of the women and children here think they’ve found heaven on earth within these walls. Much like Rex’s cult followers did all those years ago. Ah, who says history doesn’t repeat itself?” Cassandra seemed lost in her own private self-congratulations.

“Have you begun the training?” Night asked.

Cassandra smiled and shrugged, but from the look on her face, Jon had no doubt she most certainly had begun abusing her victims.

“And the children?” Jon forced the question from his lips. What the hell was she doing to the kids?

“Ah, so you
are
a budding entrepreneur after all, my dear, clever boy. Eventually, once we’ve established ourselves as a reputable shelter, I was hoping to move into a bit of child pornography. However, it’s vital we not move too quickly. I’m sure the authorities are keeping a close eye on this place thanks to Rex’s greediness and a bit of trouble I had at my previous shelter. If Rex had one major failing, it was that he was always looking to make the easy buck and he diversified too quickly. I warned him time and time again, but he simply wouldn’t listen. I don’t intend to make the same mistakes.”