OnlyatTheCavern (12 page)

“I mean it. Who takes care of you, Jasmine? I mean,
Mistress.”

The use of her name was deliberate and they both knew it.
His gaze fell to her lips, which softened in response. With a slight tilt of
her head, her lips would be on his. Touching, rubbing, tasting him in a way she
had yet to do.

Tears welled in her eyes and that panicky feeling returned
to take flight in her chest like the flutter of hummingbird wings. To kiss him
right then would not be as a Dom with her sub, but as a woman kissing a man.
Neither one in charge. No one steering the ship. Chaos created on a whisper.

Marco shifted a scant millimeter closer. His hand on her arm
tightened, subtly pulling her closer toward him although they lay breast to
chest. As the puff of his breath kissed her cheek, the lights flickered.

“What was that?” he asked.

A timely reprieve.

She drew back with a small sigh of relief. And the captain
thought a little anal play was intense.

“Someone’s at the door. A flashing light is less obtrusive
than a knock or doorbell. Come in,” she said in the door’s direction in a
raised voice.

When Jax entered the room, she immediately sat up. The bouncer
would never interrupt her unless it was an emergency, and the clench of his jaw
only added to her concern.

“Sorry, Jasmine,” he said from the door. “Madeline’s sub is
having chest pains. Apparently the dumbass took a blue pill and he’s on heart
medication.”

Men. Son of a bitch.

She looked back to Marco and mentally cursed again. He
looked so cute and rumpled lying against the bedding. She wanted to stay by his
side, but duty called.

“Rookie, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Go.” He settled deeper into the pillows. “I’m
fine right here. Take as long as you need.”

“Your adrenaline is still crashing.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Jax offered.

“No offense, but I can look out for myself,” he huffed.

“No offense,” she responded for the bouncer. “I don’t want
you falling to the floor. Be good.” She ran her hand down his chest before
climbing off the bed to dress. “Besides, I don’t want anyone else to stumble
upon you and think you’re ripe for the taking. And Jax will wait outside and
come in only if he hears the thud of your body hitting the hardwood.”

“I’ll try not to be so irresistible,” he said with a smug
grin.

“Rest.” She pulled the covers up over his chest and dropped
a kiss on his forehead. Oh, why did he have to be so adorable?

The moment she stepped out into the hall she asked Jax, “Has
9-1-1 been called?”

“Of course. He’s in the clinic now. I’ll fill you in on the
way then come back for your man.”

The clinic was the name of the onsite medical room they used
for any emergency situation. When one combined alcohol, sex and people in one
location, it was inevitable a crisis would erupt, and Amaryllis liked to be
prepared to take care of the people under her roof. All of the bouncers were
trained in first aid, but Jasmine was often asked to assist in the more serious
situations until medics arrived.

“He’s sweating like a pig and breathing hard, trying to make
it seem as if he’s fine, but you can tell he’s hurting.”

“Understood.”

“So…” he said in a way that put her instantly on edge. “I
didn’t take the cop for a screamer.”

“Don’t you know, Jax? I turn them all into screamers.”

“I know.” He chuckled. “But I have to admit, Jaz, I was
getting turned on hearing you work him over. When’s his contract up? I may have
to petition you to take his place.”

The thought of Marco no longer being her sub made her steps
falter.

“Are you okay?” Jax asked.

“I’m fine. It’s the shoes,” she lied with ease and continued
on as a heavy weight settled in her chest. So far Marco gave no indication that
he wanted their time to end. But they were in the honeymoon stage. When the
three months were up, would he want to move on? Or would he want more?

While his earlier line of questioning wasn’t entirely out of
place, it did suggest he was interested in her life outside the club. Any other
woman might be happy to have a man like Marco interested in her for more than
the hour or two of pleasure, but the idea of how a relationship like theirs
would work outside the club exhausted her just thinking about it.

Marco was not the type of man who’d enjoy being treated like
a dirty secret, and if she began to think of him as more than a twice-weekly
appointment, sooner or later her family would find out and start asking
questions, maybe even want to meet him.

Nope, nope, nope. Not going to happen. One night with her
family would undermine all of the authority she worked hard to establish.

She and Marco could not exist outside The Cavern, and if he
pushed, well, she’d be happy to find him a new Mistress.

Sure you will.

“What do you say, Jaz?” Jax’s question interrupted the
verbal smack-down her subconscious was about to lay down. “Do you wanna to Dom
me?”

She glanced his way with a noncommittal shrug and took a
page from Amaryllis. “I’ll keep you in mind. For now.”

Marco walked across the threshold of the emergency room at
Schuster–Siegel Memorial Hospital and took careful note of who, what and where
as he made his way to the nurses’ station. At the moment the lobby was quiet,
with only a few people occupying the seats. The calm was deceptive. In the span
of a heartbeat a barrage of crazy could barrel through the door in a blaze of
sirens and flashing lights.

The hospital was one of those rare places where nothing and
everything happened in a nanosecond. One second the halls were filled with the
elation that came with a new life beginning on Earth then swung to the opposite
side of the pendulum to the crushing grief of a loved one passing. A glut of
emotions occurred under one roof and sometimes within feet of each other. It
was almost as if the plain white walls and cold, minimalist furniture were a
blank canvas for the day’s events to be written upon. No one part of its design
intended to sway the outcome or emotions of the individuals who entered its
domain. Calm yet unsettled all at the same time.

It took a special type of person to handle the extremes. An
unique individual who could juggle the calm and the crazy. Someone like
Jasmine. Her need to have an environment entirely under her control made so
much more sense to him after being witness to her everyday world.

He wished the reason for his visit to the emergency room was
his beautiful Mistress, but alas, duty had called. A woman had been found in a
Dumpster behind a motel. To everyone’s surprise the brutalized girl was still
alive and now was awake and conscious enough to answer questions.

“Good morning, Jenna,” Marco greeted the young nurse behind
the counter. “Happy Friday to you.”

“If it was my Friday. You’re looking much better than the
last time we saw you, Marco. Way better.” She turned her gaze to the man at his
side and tossed her blonde ponytail over her shoulder as she batted her lashes.
“Hi, Cassidy.”

“Morning.” Coulter set the white paper bag they had brought
with them on the desk by her keyboard. “Some sweet macaroons for the sweet
ladies who we all know truly run this hospital.”

“Oh, you two are too much. Hey, girls. Our favorite police
officers are here,” she called out toward the back office behind her.

Yes, he and his men understood the importance of sweet talk.
These nurses were overworked, underappreciated and loyal to each other and
their patients. A little kindness shown to the right people went a long way in
speeding along their investigation.

“We’re here to see the girl from the motel. I heard she’s
awake,” Marco said.

“She’s up,” Jenna replied. “Doc Jo is with her now. Follow
me and I’ll take you down and see if she’s ready for visitors.”

“Doc Jo? You mean Jovanovich?” Excitement and dread raced
through him at the thought of seeing Jasmine.

Of course he was happy to see her, but this was the first
time their paths had crossed outside the nightclub, and it was almost
impossible to be near her without sporting some sort of an erection. Not the
best of appearances when conducting an investigation.

“Yeah. I’m sure she’ll be glad to see how well you’re doing
since your accident.”

Coulter snorted as he followed. “Watching you fall from that
roof was about the scariest moment of my life, Cap. But now I can’t stop
laughing when I think about it.”

“Glad to be a source of amusement for you.”

Nurse Jenna stopped them outside a closed doorway. “Wait
right here.”

She took a moment to knock and announce her arrival then
poked her head inside the room.

“Dr. Jo will be with you in a few minutes,” she said as she
stepped back out into the hall. “Can I get you fellas coffee or water?”

“We’re fine,” Marco answered for the both of them. “You
don’t have to wait with us.”

“Believe me, Officer, I don’t mind.” She giggled and tossed
a come-hither glance at Coulter.

The door opened and Jasmine emerged. It struck Marco dumb at
how similar yet completely opposite Jasmine’s personas were.

She was still beautiful, almost regal in her posture and the
confident tilt of her head. There was a strength evident in her bearing that
radiated like a thousand-watt light bulb. However, with her hair in a braid and
the rumpled scrubs and lab coat, she appeared almost innocent, unassuming,
steady. All good solid attributes for a person to be described as, but they
lacked the sparkle of how he knew her to be.

“Hey,” he greeted in maybe too friendly a fashion, for her
eyes widened in surprise. For half a second he wondered if he should have
dropped to his knees as if there were in her dungeon.

“Hello,” she replied with as much formality as one could fit
into a two-syllable word. “You’re looking well, Captain. Good morning,
Lieutenant.”

“Right.” Marco shook off the ill effects of her rather
impersonal greeting and focused on the purpose of his visit. “How’s the
patient?”

Jasmine hugged a clipboard to her chest and answered in a
quiet tone as if she didn’t want to be overheard, “Awake. Cognizant. Broken for
now, but she’s a fighter.”

“What is the extent of her injuries?”

“Her right forearm is fractured, her ribs cracked on the
left side. Several lacerations to the face and body and a good amount of
swelling that is starting to go down. The little I was able to find out
suggests someone beat her and tied a pillowcase over her head in an attempt to
suffocate her before leaving her body in a Dumpster.”

“What else do you know about what happened to her?”

“Not much. When the medics brought her in, they said a hotel
guest heard loud noises, bangs and grunts, coming from behind the building and
spotted her trying to climb out. She hasn’t elaborated about her ordeal.”

“Was she…you know, raped?” Coulter swallowed hard
mid-sentence. For an officer on his team, the man was quite squeamish when it
came to delicate matters.

Jasmine sighed with a slight frown. “There is evidence of
intercourse, but whether that was before or during the attack, she won’t say.
We administered a rape kit just to cover all bases.”

“Good. Good.” Marco nodded, disturbed by the conversation in
ways he never expected.

How many times in the past had he had similar discussions
with Dr. Jovanovich regarding the status of victims he’d come to question? In
both of their lines of work, they’d seen the ugly and tragedy that befalls
humankind. This part of their lives was “normal”, everyday, and that reality
burned in his throat like acid.

Dr. Jovanovich was no longer just a consultant. She was a
flesh-and-blood woman. Female. Delicate, although she’d probably take a belt to
his backside if she heard him describe her in such a way, but that was how he
felt. He cared about her. He cared for her. It was his job to protect those he
cared about from the horrors of the world. However, it wasn’t his place to
protect Jasmine. And that detail burned him most of all.

He swallowed hard against the bitter pill of truth. “We’ll
do our best to make our visit short. We don’t want to cause her any more
discomfort than she’s already in.”

“I know you won’t.” She offered him a polite smile that too
rubbed him the wrong way. He wasn’t a stranger. Couldn’t she offer him a little
personal consideration?

She knocked on the door as she said, “I’ll introduce you,”
then turned the knob.

Across from the doorway a young girl stood before the
window, frantically trying to squeeze her body through the tiny opening allowed
by the safety hinge.

The clap of Jasmine’s clipboard hitting the floor covered
his curse as they both raced to the girl.

There wasn’t time to consider her comfort as he wrapped his
arms around her torso and hauled her away from the window as she kicked and
flailed with pain-filled shrieks.

“Coulter, grab her legs,” Marco instructed as he dodged her
fist. The girl reached back and pulled his hair so hard, tears sprang to his
eyes.

Together the two men wrestled her back onto the bed as
Jasmine withdrew a set of straps from under the bedframe and began to bind them
to the girl’s ankles.

“They’ll kill me. They’ll kill me,” the girl kept shrieking.
“They’ll find me and kill me.”

“If you keep screaming this way, whomever it is you’re
afraid of will find you for certain,” said Jasmine in a tone Marco recognized
as her no-nonsense dominatrix voice. “Stop this right now. You’ll hurt yourself
further and that I will not allow. I will sedate you if necessary.”

“I wouldn’t test her, girl,” Marco warned. “Doc isn’t one to
make idle threats. Calm down and all will be fine. No one will hurt you here.”

The wails fell into gut-wrenching sobs that had to hurt her
broken ribs. “They’ll find me and finish what they started.”

“Not on my watch.” Jasmine tightened the last strap around
the girl’s free wrist. “Lieutenant, will you please close the door and dissuade
anyone who may be coming to assist us? I don’t want to cause a greater
disturbance than we already have.”

“Right.” Coulter ran to the door and Marco could hear him
intercept an orderly out in the hallway.

Jasmine ran her hand down the girl’s hair in a soothing
motion before reinserting the IV needle into her arm. “Jenny, I promise you, as
long as you’re under my care, no one will harm you.”

“They’re too powerful,” she choked out in stuttering
breaths.

“I’m not without my own set of skills. Now, do I have to you
sedate you, or will you behave? With either choice, you will respect these men
and me.”

“Don’t drug me. Please.” Her head rolled against the pillows
and her legs shifted as best they could in her bound state. “I don’t want to go
to sleep.”

“Then calm yourself. I won’t put you to sleep, but I am
going to give you something to dull the pain. You’ve probably broken your ribs.
I’m going to ensure you didn’t do more damage while you answer these men’s
questions. This is Captain DeWinter and his partner Lieutenant Coulter. They
are good men and I trust them. You can trust them too.”

“And I trust the doc.” Marco spoke up as he pulled a chair
over to the bed. “She saved my life a few weeks ago.” In more ways than one.
“You’re lucky to be in her care. Now, Jenny, it is Jenny, right? All we want to
do is find the people who hurt you and make sure they don’t hurt anyone again.
Understand?”

Her bloodshot blue eyes appeared doubtful, but she nodded
anyway. Now that she was sedentary Marco was better able to take in the girl’s
condition. She didn’t appear to be older than fifteen, but the shape of her
face was difficult for him to make out from the bruising on her cheek, jaw and
forehead. Rope burns wound around her throat, and the skin above the cast on
her arm was mottled with purple splotches and adorned with crisscross hatch
marks that matched the set on her other arm. Whoever had harmed her was one
sadistic bastard.

“We’ll start real simple,” he said when Coulter returned to
take down the interview. “How old are you?”

“Seventeen,” she replied in a small voice.

“Where are your parents?”

She shrugged with a wince.

“Where are you from?”

“Spokane.”

“What brought you out to the big city?”

“Ran away.”

Ah… An idea of how she might have come under attack began to
form and he saw where her story was heading. “Why?”

She sighed. “My parents aren’t good. They suck. They drink
and yell and drink some more. Everything sucked.”

“How long ago did you leave?”

“A few months ago.”

“And where have you been staying?”

“I don’t know,” she said with her eyes cast down.

What did that mean? “Can you explain?”

“I was staying at a motel until my money ran out, which was
really fast. And nobody wanted to hire a
kid
,” she sneered and began to
pick at the threads of the sheet covering her belly. “I was sleeping on the
street when a man came up to me and said he could get me work as a dancer. I
know I’m from the sticks, but I’m not stupid. I knew what he meant. But I had
nothing. Less than nothing…” she trailed off as a sob worked its way up her throat.

“It’s okay, honey.” He lifted his hand to pat her on the leg
then immediately let it fall and looked to Jasmine. With a nod and an eyebrow
wag, he silently asked her to be the one to offer comfort. Jenny had the most
trust in Jasmine, and he was a male. Odds were good it was a man who hurt her.
“Where did this man take you?”

“He took me to a massage place.”

“Massage?”

Behind him, Coulter sucked in a breath and his own spine
straightened with a snap. A thousand questions stung his lips like an upset
colony of bees but he forced them back. Jumping to conclusions did nobody any
good, but his radar was pinging so loudly, he knew Coulter sensed it as well.

“Do you remember where this massage business is?” He hoped
he was able to keep the excitement out of his voice.

Her brow furrowed. “Downtown. Near the phó place.”

“Which one?” There were easily six on one street alone.

“Not far from the X-rated theater. I thought that was where
he was taking me.”

Fuck yeah. That was a former location of one of the Tabateri
brothers’ prostitution hubs. Was it possible the boys never officially closed
shop? Judging by the frantic scribbling of Coulter’s pencil across the paper,
that question was going to be thoroughly investigated soon.

“What happened when you went inside?”

“As soon as we walked through the front door, he put a bag
over my head, tied my hands and dragged me through the shop and out the back.”

“How did you know it was the back if there was a bag over
your head?”

“They put me in a van, or something without backseats, and I
could smell trash through the fabric. There weren’t any Dumpsters where we
entered from the front.”