30. June 17th

JUNE 17TH

TB

He was downstairsin the kitchen when his watch pinged. Glancing at the text, he saw Waters was asking him to check in as soon as possible. A glance at the time said it was just after three o'clock in the afternoon.

Seriously? I told them no contact. For fuck's sake, can't even follow the simplest instructions.

He scrubbed his face with his hands and moved to sit at the dining room table.

After opening his laptop, he clicked on the video chat link. When Waters appeared on the screen, he groused, "Have you forgotten how to tell time, asswipe? It's barely been twenty-four hours yet, let alone seventy-two."

"Another girl has gone missing. Someone named Fleur."

"Shit." He ran his fingers through his hair from forehead to nape, gripping the back of his neck. "That's the girl who realized Tilly was missing. Are we sure she was taken from the club? She hasn't just taken off somewhere?"

"Her shoes were found in the parking lot near her car, and her escort was found unconscious there as well. Got hit in the back of the head with a tire iron. A guy named Tripoli."

"He was with Fleur when she reported Tilly missing."

"What's his connection to the club?"

"He works as a dungeon master and mans the door to the upstairs sometimes. Former Marine. Actually, he might have been Navy. Don't they get their medics from your alumni?"

"Yup. Any idea where he served?"

"No, not a clue."

"Okay, I'll get Midas to give a look-see into him, just for elimination purposes."

"He's a good guy. Pretty sure he comes from money, and I think he's a silent investor in the club. Might even have been an actual doctor, now that I think of it. He's got a tattoo of that medical symbol." TB frowned. "Fleur is blonde."

"Wondered if you'd catch that."

"He's changed his pattern. Something's really wrong." TB looked out into space, not seeing the room around him. "We wanted him to screw up and make a mistake, but I don't think this was one. This actually feels calculated. He left behind a witness of sorts. Is Tripoli awake yet?"

"Demon went in there and did his impression of a doctor, which is how I've got the information I'm giving you."

With a sigh, TB brushed his hands back up his head from neck to crown and tousled his hair. "What are your spidey senses telling you?"

"Same as you. Not a mistake."

TB heard paper rustling in the background.

"We also have other news."

TB felt his heart rate spike. "Another threat against Flame?"

"Yup. And here's the twist. It didn't come through the mail, email, or chat. It was left under Fleur's windshield wipers."

"Fuck. It is the same guy."

"Confirmed."

"Was Midas able to get the security footage from the club?"

"Yes. We caught a huge break on this one. Tripoli followed her out the door after about sixty seconds. Said he was supposed to walk her out, but there was a distraction inside, and he got hung up. She must have felt she was safe because, get this, turns out she's an undercover cop. She was hiding out investigating the missing girls."

"Wow. I wouldn't have guessed that by looking at her. Come to think of it, she's always avoided me like the plague, except regarding Tilly. Must have known instinctively I'd expose her hiding as a sub." He expelled a deep breath. "Well, at least the cops hadn't actually given up. What did the video show?"

"It's difficult to see because it was dark. Assnozzle took out the light by her car. Plus, he's all in black, and he apparently knew exactly where the cameras were because his face was almost completely turned away. Not only that, but he's covered head to toe, likely wearing a ski mask as far as we can tell, and also had gloves on, so not a speck of flesh is visible to even hope for any identifying marks. Midas is trying to clean up the footage, plus he's testing out his fancy measuring program inside Cyclopes, so between the height of things in the lot and the height and weight of Fleur and Tripoli, we should be able to get some sort of dimensions on our guy."

"But that's not particularly helpful. There will be a million men out there that fit the same dimensions," TB groused.

"And not only that," Waters acknowledged, "who knows if that build is even going to be accurate. There are a lot of ways he could make himself taller and bulkier than he actually is, so those millions probably quadrupled in number because we also have to consider smaller variations." There was more rustling of paper. "Nemo made an interesting observation, though. He wondered if maybe we have the wrong gender."

"What? Why?"

"Well, there are a couple of reasons. Number one, the build on this guy is pretty small."

"Trust Nemo to be looking at measurements. He's probably more accurate than Midas' fancy program. We tested him not too long ago. Had him look at an issue of Hustler. He got every one of them right. That man is a menace."

"Glad I missed that."

TB chuckled. "Purposely didn't invite you. We figured Kubrick would gouge out your eyes, hand us our asses, then burn down Tribe."

"No shit. Either that or she would have joined in on the bet."

"What's number two?"

"Number two, Nemo pointed out that while there are a couple of guys in her social media following, they don't fit the profile. Several of them have solid alibis for Identity, the LGBTQ+ club."

"Going to a club known for its homosexual clientele doesn't necessarily mean someone's gay. Hell, I've been there."

Waters cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm not touching that one."

TB sat up straight in his seat. "Would it matter if I were gay?"

"You wouldn't be the first guy I know to walk both sides of the street. And no, it wouldn't matter. Anyhow, while the sites have a few male followers, ninety-nine percent of the members are female."

"Also means nothing. Anyone can be anyone on the internet."

"Yes, we did think of that. Midas has got everyone going through her followers' profiles, lateral reading, and hacking into accounts and back channeling to see if there are any potential candidates. So far, nothing, but there are thousands of them, and it's taking a hot minute to go through them. More than a few women setting themselves up as people they aren't, and a few who are authors with pen names, but none of them are tripping any triggers as stalkers. And, of course, Kubrick is on there, under a fake name, as well as Cherry and Tabitha."

"Makes sense. Flame said that's how she connected with Tabitha in the first place." TB considered Nemo"s points. "He's not wrong in his ideas, but I still think our stalker's a male."

"That's our general leaning, too, but Nemo just didn't want us to overlook options. Plus, he can be incredibly astute at times."

"Like we need more work with this."

Waters paused. "I need to ask you to do something you're not going to want to do."

"You want me to go to the club tonight. With Flame."

"Sorry. I know you wanted time alone, but I literally don't think we have time with Fleur's disappearance. Like you said, Flame can ask questions openly that you can't, and no one would probably think twice about it."

"Normally, a Dom would discipline her for doing that. Prying. It's not respectful."

There was a pause again. "You're the one who suggested this line of investigation. Why the flip-flop?"

There was silence as the two men stared at one another over the screen.

Waters sighed and shook his head. "I know you don't want to hurt her. So don't. Dude, we all know you're gone for her, so why are you denying yourself this?"

TB rolled his eyes. "I can't."

"Micah. Listen to me, and listen well. Do not do what I did. Because when it gets fucked up, and it will if you proceed this way, you're going to be miserable. You're going to feel like the world could implode, and you'd be happy for it to happen because you need her so badly. Like if she's not there, you can't breathe. When Kubrick and I were separated, it physically hurt to the point I was wishing I'd died in Cairo and never met her. I was willing to do anything, and I mean anything, for a second chance, but my pride wouldn't allow me to go find her. Remove your head from your ass right now. Follow the plan. But be real with her. Make use of the club as a couple. Enjoy yourself. Just… please don't tell me about it afterward."

"She's going to feel like I've lied to her. She'll never believe I really feel anything for her once she realizes why we're going to the club."

"Look, I'm not going to claim I'm an expert on women. But I do know this much—tell her the truth. Go do it now. She might get angry, but she'll get over it. She'll want to help, especially after what she learned in the meeting yesterday. I'm telling you straight. Do not fuck this up for yourself."

TB sighed. "I'll think about it."

"As a famous green little alien once said… ‘There is no try.'"

"That's not the quote. You need a session with Nemo."

"Thanks, but I have enough movie shit in my life with Kubrick." Waters shifted gears when Midas handed him some printouts. "Okay, back to reality. There are six new members who joined the club around the time this all started, but three of these people seem to show up almost every night, similar to this Fleur woman."

TB was grateful for the subject change. "Yeah, that's probably Medusa, Loki, and Gilgamesh. They're a triad. Came in sometime about six months ago." His neck began to itch. Something was off. "When Flame and I go to the club tonight, I'll watch for them. They'll actually be the perfect cover. It's a bonus that I've already been seen talking with them at the club. Plus, Flame will want to know about triads and reverse harems for her books, I'm sure."

"I'm going to try to forget you mentioned those two things. I've got more than I can handle with just one woman." Waters paused. "And don't think too long about what I said before. You'll thank me for it later." He snapped his fingers. "Almost forgot. Nemo delivered something to the house for you earlier from Midas. A ‘just in case' item. It's on the porch."

"Tracker?"

"Yes. He put it in a collar."

TB winced.

"Problem?" Waters asked.

How to explain this?

"A collar at The Library connects a sub to a Dom. It means she's been claimed."

"Okay. Again, problem?"

"It's going to look like a declaration of my intentions to her."

"And?"

TB sighed. "It's going to be out of place. I've never done that before."

"Huh. Well, first time for everything, I guess. Maybe it will send our stalker a message." Waters' voice lowered. "Maybe it even sends one to you."

"This Midas' way of offering his opinion on the matter?"

"Christ, when did you become such a drama queen? Why are you making this into a big production? Just admit you're into her already. You're giving me a headache and a craving for chocolate. That means I'll have to go buy my own because Kubrick doesn't share."

Waters clicked out of the chat.

Shaking his head, TB checked his watch for the time. Three-thirty.