Why?
She didn’t know. And damn, the day had rushed over her like a flash flood, and she hadn’t found high ground fast enough to take cover.
For so long, her ever-present desire for a fierce protector had burned inside her. But so did her craving for a firm Master. Hammer had been the former for the past six years, sometimes shielding her too much. She knew he could be the latter, if he wished. But she couldn’t make him love her. Maybe he did, on some level. Maybe that would explain why he’d tried so hard to keep her from leaving Shadows when they’d fought. Maybe that was his guilt talking. Or maybe just another one of his games to control her.
It didn’t really matter anymore. Hammer had given her to Beck to punish, rather than touch her himself. And if he wanted to believe that she’d tricked Liam into caring, then screw him. She was done. She belonged to Liam now.
Raine thrust aside the memory of Hammer’s decimated face just before Liam carried her from the room. Her heart clutched. Despite everything, she was stupid enough to love him still. Sadly, some part of her probably always would.
But what about Liam? If he was everything he seemed to be, he deserved a woman who could submit her entire being to him, heart and soul.
God, she could think in this endless circle all night long.
Raine rolled over and looked at the clock. 3:30 A.M. Did Hammer know or care where she was? Did it matter to him at all?
Glass shattering suddenly splintered the night. It sounded like it had come from upstairs, in the bar. She sat up, her heart starting to beat faster. The club was closed, and all guests should be long gone. So what the hell was that sound?
She was still analyzing it in her head when something heavy clattered to the floor from the same vicinity, skittering over the stained concrete above.
She turned to Liam, hand outstretched to wake him. Shadows darkened under his eyes. He’d been through the wringer tonight. The noises upstairs were probably from a drunk member or maybe another one of the staff had just dropped something while cleaning up.
Whatever it was, she could handle it.
Raine stood and slipped Liam’s navy silk robe over her naked body. She should probably wake Hammer, too. Had he heard the ruckus?
But when Raine padded into the hall and reached his bedroom, she found it empty. She fought back surprise, then anger. Bitterness eventually won. He was probably with Marlie somewhere. Inside Marlie, pounding deep into her— No, damn it, she wasn’t going to finish that thought. She had no control over who Hammer liked or fucked. If he didn’t want her, she had to let her thoughts of him go.
She stood for a minute, trying to decide what to do. Then silence pervaded again. Whatever disturbance had been upstairs had stopped. Maybe it had been nothing…
Raine was about to turn back to Liam’s room when she noticed light spilling from Beck’s open door.
With eyes narrowed, she sauntered down the hall. After this evening, she had a few things to say to the dirtbag.
When she peered into his room, she found every light on. He chugged on a fifth of Jack Daniel’s and packed a few things into a duffel bag. As he turned with a flogger and a pair of cuffs in hand, he caught sight of her. Despite the fact that he had a black eye—where had Beck gotten that?—he had the balls to wink at her.
Raine lost it—her temper, her hold on her emotions, her will to hear his side of the story. She charged into the room, straight at him, and slapped him across the face. “You bastard!”
“Watch it, princess.” He rubbed his offended cheek, then she caught sight of another bruise there, along with a split lip. It was no less than he deserved. Thunder rolled across his face. “I’ll let you have that one. I earned it.”
Meaning…? “Did you do what Hammer asked you to do to me?”
“Nah.” He took another swig of Jack, then grimaced, absently tonguing his busted lip. “Motherfucker, that hurts.”
“So do my thighs!” she shot back. “Why did you smack me with a rubber paddle if Hammer told you not to?”
He sent her a considering stare, then a grin spread slowly across his mouth. “A couple of reasons. Hammer warned me off you years ago, but hey, I’m just a man. You’re my kind of wet dream, and I had to know if there was any chance you might be a latent pain slut so that…yeah, maybe we could live kinkily-ever-after.”
Why would he imagine that for a minute? “I think we can safely say somewhere between no and hell no. That really freaking hurt. And no warm-up?”
“Not your bag, I get it. But I wasn’t going to do you any lasting damage.”