Wild Horses (37 page)

“Yours?” Larry asked, curious.

“My friend’s,” Kai said. “She’d be looking for a job.”

“I meant the phone,” Larry said. “But whatever. You sure clean up pretty good! I guess you hit the jackpot, huh?”

Kai’s grin showed his teeth. “I got really lucky and found work, is all.”

Larry kept wiping the glass in his hand, over and over, as though he was thinking really hard. A crafty expression crossed his face when he finally broke the uneasy silence. “I’m not authorized to discuss this sort of a thing.” Larry said, rocking his butt against the back of the bar. “Besides, you’re something of a
persona non grata
around here. Did you know that your boyfriend showed up right after you did your disappearing act?”

“My boyfriend,” Kai said in a deadpan voice, fishing for more information. Surely not Attila—Kai couldn’t imagine the prim and polished Attila Keleman frequenting Frankie’s Bar and Lounge.

“Yeah, Nelby was here. He said you owed him money, and he took everything there was in the register at the time. He said when you showed up, you’d cover him back.”

Kai straightened, no longer leaning against the bar. The news was alarming, yet somehow he failed to be shocked at Nelby’s actions. “First of all, we were over a long time ago. Secondly, I owed him, but he kept my stuff as surety, and then he burned it down. Too bad, huh? I lost everything, and when I showed up to pay, there was just a pile of ashes and no Nelby to explain it away.”

“So you ain’t gonna pay?” Larry asked.

“If Nelby was dumb enough to throw his weight around and steal money from your register, you should have called the police,” Kai said. As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized how unusual that attitude was at this establishment, and how much he had changed while at Blue Heron Acres.

“Uh—huh. Right.” Larry served a cappuccino to a customer and returned to Kai. “So about this chick. What’s in it for me?”

“More like, what trouble you can avoid, Larry. This could be real bad. The police were already notified—her mother filed a missing persons report.”

“Fuck.” Larry shuffled his feet, looking down and doing his best to look amicable. “Look. Don’t say you got it from me, but she was here just yesterday, looking for a job. You’d have to go downstairs and look for Johnny. He’s a bit shorter than you are and has a buzz cut—”

“I know who Johnny is,” Kai growled.

Larry’s eyes lit up as his memory kicked in. “That’s right! You would, now, wouldn’t you?”

“Shut up,” Kai snapped, irritated at the reminder of his unsavory past. “Besides, I can’t go to the leather lounge. I’m not even dressed to go down there.”

Nor do I intend to be.

Oh God, I’m just such a worthless….

“No problem. Hey, have a drink and then you can talk to Johnny.” Larry’s smile did not quite reach his eyes. “And—no hard feelings about the cash. This one’s on the house. Bourbon, right?” Larry produced a tumbler with ice and covered it with an amber liquid straight from the bottle. “And, try some bitters. That’s actually the hottest thing right now.” He reached under the tall backsplash for some more supplies, and fussed with Kai’s drink for a while. He finally produced a small bottle of bitters, dosed in six drops, and mixed it all with a swizzle stick. He handed his peace offering to Kai with a smile as he poured himself a shot of bourbon from the same bottle.

“Cheers, and well met!” They touched glasses and drank.

“Not bad,” Kai said. “Thanks. It’s unusual.” He drank some more, letting the odd flavors mix on his tongue. The drink was small, his tolerance was high, his stomach was still full—and he wasn’t driving. Just before he lifted the last sip in the tumbler to his lips, the bell on the door chimed, making both of them turn around.

Kai nearly fell off his barstool when he saw Attila enter through the sunlit rectangle. He wore black dress trousers and the black silk shirt that Kai knew had been packed in their overnight bag. He held a coil of braided-leather whip in his right hand. His eyes seemed luminous beneath his hooded eyelids as he surveyed his dominion with an imperious air of command. Everyone in the room, to a man, looked up to stare at him. Some faces lit up in recognition. Before Kai could even choke out a greeting, Larry gasped. “It’s Attila the Hun!”

Attila the Hun….

I’ve heard of a Dom named Attila the Hun.

No way. It couldn’t be.

He looks just like Attila—the eyes, the hair, the posture….

The whip.

But the Dom using that name retired already….

Fragments of information flashed through Kai’s mind in an instant, falling into a jigsaw-puzzle pattern. It couldn’t be his gentle Attila who loved to kiss with the lightest touch and who quirked a smile at Kai’s most raucous jokes. Not Attila, who’d never use a whip for anything but communication between a human and a horse.

Incredulous, Kai felt a brutal hand squeeze his chest—robbing him of air—as Larry nodded from behind the bar with a rare air of deference. “Master! You have returned!”

K
AI
’
S
gaze was riveted to the spectacle before his eyes. Larry, who used to tell tall tales of the legendary and retired Dom known as Attila the Hun, was on his best manners before the man Kai would have sworn was his gentle and introverted lover. The coincidence of their names hit Kai between the eyes like a brick. He should have made the connection based on the name alone—yet Attila was so proper and soft-spoken, it was hard to believe he was the same man whose sleeping form he had embraced only twelve hours ago.

A commanding presence in a tuxedo, waiting to cross a busy downtown street.

A decisive voice, texting confident words that helped Kai through a difficult time.

A confident man in tall boots, wielding a whip, training his horses, as well as their riders.

It was so farfetched, it was almost inconceivable, and Kai struggled with reality shifting under his feet as he watched Attila stand in the middle of the establishment. His posture was much the same as when he stood in the middle of a riding arena, but with a different whip in hand; his legs clad in different riding breeches and intent on taming a different beast. Only his eyes were the same: detached, assessing. He exuded control, his power held on a very tight leash. If he could exert his will over an 1,800 pound beast who did not always feel friendly toward him—if he could make a horse eager to obey—then Kai began to see how his fellow men might fall victim to the same animal magnetism Attila Keleman was able to turn on and off with the precision of a light switch.

Yet Kai reflected that he, himself, had never felt coerced or unduly influenced in any way.

Curious.

Why didn’t he try to control me?

Or did he?

The words echoed in Kai’s mind. He felt goose bumps rise on his arms, and a shiver passed through his body as a chilling realization dawned upon him: Attila Keleman only
looked
like a soft-spoken, cultured gentleman from the countryside. The reality was darker: he was a dangerous man who had the power to play on that, which made those around him most vulnerable. He could read a man the way he read a horse, and he apparently possessed the power to make that man want to obey him, submit to him. He didn’t know what was worse: Attila now knowing Kai was the kind of a man who used to frequent this type of an establishment, or Attila being the kind of a man who used to rule it.

“M
ASTER
!
You have returned!”

The echo of Larry’s words still filled Attila’s mind as he flicked his eyes toward Kai, who looked like a horse about to bolt for freedom. It looked like this was the part of Kai’s history he was trying to keep from him. As Attila realized Kai had not trusted him with quite everything, a saddened shadow passed over his brow. He turned his attention back to Larry. “I am not a master anymore.”

Larry’s sandy blond curls bobbed as he straightened his shoulders, staring at Attila with wistful eyes. “So you really retired, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Damn.” Larry frowned in disappointment. “So… what brings you back, Master Attila?”

Still aware of Kai’s keen eyes following his every move, Attila sighed in an effort to relax. “I see you’ve already met Kai. We’re looking for a young woman.” Attila made his way to Kai as he spoke. He kept his steps silent and slow, as though he were approaching a wild horse. Their eyes met in a fleeting contact, at which Attila’s gaze softened at the mélange of confusion and fear he saw hiding behind Kai’s defiant posture.

“You two know one another?” Larry asked as an expressionless mask slid over his face. His eyes were cold—cold, and scared.

“Yes,” Attila said. His manner was never effusive, but now he was downright curt. His mission was to find Lindsey, not to catch up for old times’ sake. “Have you seen this woman around?” He pulled his cell phone out, just like Kai had, and showed Lindsey’s picture to the bartender.

Larry shrugged, taking his time as he polished another tumbler with a clean cloth. “Kai and I didn’t get very far. Johnny downstairs might know, but first I spotted Kai a drink. Here, let me fortify you before you have to go deal with him. My… my treat!” Larry raised himself up on his toes and reached for a tumbler and a bottle of single malt scotch.

“Actually, if you have something frozen, I’d be grateful,” Attila said, thinking fast. “Maybe a strawberry daiquiri?”

Once Larry was down to the other side of the bar where he could not eavesdrop, and as soon as he turned his noisy blender on, Attila leaned toward Kai. “Honey… did you trust me this morning?”

Kai startled at the words spoken against his ear. “Well… yeah. Yes, I trusted you. With everything.” Bitter resentment laced every syllable of his confession.

“I am still the same man as I was this morning, Kai,” Attila rushed on, alarmed by the past tense of his lover’s statement. “The same man who loves you. Your
partner
, Kai. We’ll talk about this later, but trust me for now, okay? I haven’t been here in years, and I’m here only because of Lindsey. I’ll explain.”

Kai met his eyes straight on. His hurt was apparent and the nervousness that had made Kai jump ever since they got in the truck that morning was suddenly amplified, giving an edge to his movements.

“Please, Kai.”

The whispered plea did not come easily, and by now, Kai knew his lover well enough to understand that much. “Alright,” he allowed. “I’m here because of Lindsey, too. What do you want to do?”

“Stay with me and do as I say.”

As Larry neared them with Attila’s drink in his hand, Kai nodded and allowed his shoulders to relax the slightest bit. Attila would have loved to knead those tense muscles into pliant softness, but this was not the time. Not only did he not dare touch Kai at this place—it was time to slip into the persona he thought he had discarded years ago. A persona that began to wear old as soon as he found people wanted him to think for them, so they might relinquish personal responsibility. Training dumb beasts was so much more rewarding.

He thought of Theodore. The man had been his first love, and his supportive presence had allowed him to give up all this. Yet, Theodore was not cut out to live on a horse farm. He had been more interested in Master Attila the Hun and the relative prestige their relationship bestowed upon him. Away from this place, there was nobody to see them together, and his social advantage lost its appeal. Theodore had found Attila Keleman, the horse trainer, a solitary and quiet man. He had no interest in becoming Attila’s partner in any real sense of the word. Less than a year later, when the novelty of their relationship wore off, Theodore took the first bad excuse to walk out. As Attila recalled the split, he was surprised to find thinking about it here at Frankie’s brought a new sense of clarity. The memory was no longer painful, and Attila did not even harbor all that much resentment. It was, perhaps, for the better, because had Theodore still languished up at Blue Heron Acres, Attila would have never met Kai.

“H
ERE
you go,” Larry chimed, placing the cold drink before Attila.

Kai noted the other occupants of the bar were careful not to look at them, which of course meant they saw everything. Kai was altogether aware of their audience, and he suppressed an urge to pin Attila against the bar and claim him in a possessive kiss. The appeal of marking his territory was soon dispelled by thinking back to their common cause.

Lindsey.

“So, Larry, I showed you the photo of Lindsey Putney and you clammed up and suggested I go downstairs. What’s with that?” Kai asked, bringing Attila up to date.

Larry shrugged. “I told you, you didn’t hear anything from me.”

“Was she here?” Attila’s smooth baritone was tuned to its persuasive best.

Kai saw Larry twitch in response to it, fighting not to obey.