Chapter 10

Trent - Chapter 10

Jefferson was sitting in the lobby of the building waiting for one of the Calhoun men to show up. He wanted to talk to Trent alone, but he knew that he was asking a great deal of the family. Jefferson really wasn't sure what he was going to say to Trent—there was plenty to tell him—but he had to talk to the man, and soon.

Yesterday had not been one of his better days. Which he supposed was an understatement. He'd done things yesterday and well into this morning that would…it would get him killed. By electrocution, if the state was still doing that.

When he heard the door open, he and the secretary who had been coming in when he'd gotten there stood up. Jefferson was ready. For what, he really wasn't sure. He looked at the man and wondered if he'd made the right decision in coming here before turning himself in.

"Mr. Marshall. I wasn't expecting you." He knew this Calhoun…it was Elijah. Not Trent who he'd hoped to speak to. "If you want to see Trent, I'm sorry. My brother no longer works here, but he is coming in this morning if you want to talk to him. He won't be too long."

"I do." He sat down, knowing that if he left now, he'd not return. "I'll just wait right here. He won't have to hurry on my account. I just…I would very much like to speak to him, please."

"He's coming in soon to set up his new digs for his other job. I'm not sure how long that'll be. My dad and he are having a breakfast meeting with the council right now. I'm sorry, but had I known you were coming in, I could have let him know."

Jefferson told him it was fine and he'd wait. He could hear the pride in Elijah's voice about his brother and his new job. He had always thought the men in the Calhoun family were close, but thought now that perhaps that was an understatement. Jefferson had never had any siblings, and had wished when he was younger that he'd had a couple. But now, all he could think about was how he'd just shamed his entire family name.

"Would you like something to drink?"

Alcohol came to mind, but he only shook his head. The things he'd done last night were.... He looked down at his hands and could see a spot of blood on his nail. Picking at it until it was gone, he looked up when the door opened. Not them. Not the man he wanted to talk to.

Max had been curled into a ball when Jefferson had come into the room last night. Noah had been there, of course—it was his house—but the fact that Max had been telling Noah what he'd done to Jefferson had brought out his temper. And Jefferson had never been very good at holding onto his temper. It wasn't as if Max was bragging about it, but almost like he was being forced to tell. It wasn't until this morning that Jefferson had figured it out. He was being forced to talk. Looking at the briefcase next to him, he was also glad that he'd not been asked what was in it. He had to talk to Trent.

The briefcase held his will, what cash he had on him and in his house, as well as the deed to all his properties. He wanted Trent to have it. He knew the man didn't really need it, but there was no one for him to leave it to and he liked the man a great deal. There was also a confession of what he'd done to get to Max, as well as the entire layout of the plan to bring the man down. Also, there were pictures of the body. Max's body.

The things he'd done to the man…the way his rage, let go when Jefferson realized that he no longer cared what happened to him, had torn the man to shreds. Some of the things that he'd done, the way his body had been covered in blood and other things, had made Jefferson sick, so much so that he'd gone into the bathroom and thrown up for twenty minutes. Until there was nothing left in his belly but air. Even then, Jefferson had lain on the cold tile floor of Noah's bathroom and sobbed at what he'd done.

Taking clothing from Noah's own dresser, Jefferson had taken a long hot shower then, scrubbing his body until it burned, and then dressed in the smaller clothing. He stuffed his clothing in the trash can in the bathroom as he left. Jefferson wondered what Noah had thought about coming home to—

"Jefferson?" He looked up, glad to be pulled from what he'd been thinking about when someone said his name. Trent was there. He looked…well, the man always looked put together to him. Jefferson was not really sure what that meant, but it suited Trent more than he could have explained to someone. Standing up, Jefferson pulled him into his arms for a tight and desperately needed hug. When it was returned, Jefferson started to sob like a small boy, his knees weaker from the relief of it until he had to be pulled up or fall on his face. "Come on now. Let's get you in my office. You can tell me what's the matter."

"Your brother said you didn't work here. I'm terribly sorry to have come here, but I didn't know where else to go. Or who to talk to. I've done something horrible." Trent told him he was going to keep an office here for other reasons, but no, he didn't work for the firm any longer. He asked Jefferson if he needed something. "No, I need to just give you something and not take up any of your time. You've been really kind to me, and I—"

"Nonsense. Come on now. We'll sit in here and you can tell me what has you so upset. Tell me what has you thinking you did something horrible. I'm sure you didn't. Tell me."

He really wanted to. Jefferson wanted to talk to this man more than he did anyone. There was something about him, calming and so strong, that Jefferson knew that if anyone could help him, this man could. Not that Jefferson thought that he'd use the help, but he knew it was there all the same.

"Max is dead." He waited for Trent to ask him what he'd done, but he only nodded. The other man—he thought it was Trent's father—sat down in one of the wingback chairs that sat near the desk and smiled at him. Trent was in the other one, and Jefferson was sitting on the couch. "I killed him. Last night. I killed Max Ford. I was at Noah's house when it happened. I'm sure the man is very upset with me for leaving such a…it was a mess there, and I just left it. I have a note for him. And some money to have it cleaned up. I'm not sure if…if he knows anyone that does that sort of thing. On the television there is always a firm that can do that for—"

"Did he hurt you? Did Max hurt you in anyway? I want to see it if he did." Jefferson stood up, not even sure why that was important, and pulled up his shirt to show Trent when he asked. Pulling off the gauze hurt…it was sticking to the dried blood less and less, but it was still painful. He knew the cut along his belly was bad, but he'd done the best he could to stitch it up. He'd found some old pain pills from when he had a tooth extracted and took those. They barely dulled the pain, and today the pain was making breathing and moving most difficult. "Let me have Sandra get some medical supplies, and we'll see if we can fix that up better for you. Anywhere else?"

"My back. I'm not sure what he did to me there. I tried to see it…did you hear what I said? I killed Max." Trent nodded and went to the door, and spoke quietly to the women still out there. Jefferson looked at TJ, who was staring at him sadly. "I don't think he understands what I've done."

"He does. Probably more than you do. Just let him help you. And don't worry about Noah. I'm sure he's got it all taken care of too." Jefferson nodded and sat back down. He knew what he'd done; these men did not. "Jefferson? We'll help you get through this."

Nodding again, he knew that he wasn't getting through anything. Max's death had been well planned, and he'd done it. From the moment he'd hatched this plan—the second Max had killed Sydney—Jefferson had known that he was going to kill Max. The man had deserved it, that was for sure. But the police should have taken care of it.

When Trent came back in and sat down, Jefferson asked for a glass of water. His mouth was dry now, and the story he had to tell was long and horrific. TJ got up to get the water and handed it to him without a word. When he put his heavy hand on his shoulder, Jefferson felt the overwhelming need to cry again. Instead, he took a long pull on the water bottle and looked at the floor.

"When I was sixteen," he said, still looking at the floor, "Sydney Carlin moved in next door to us. My family owned the block, you see, and we would usually rent out one or two of the buildings when someone needed a place to stay. My dad liked her a great deal. She was friendly, sharp, and my mom and she would go on girly things together. Sydney had dinner at my home, sat with us, and watched television when she could. She was my first and only true love. We were friends, she and I. I could tell her just about anything, and I did. My life, I thought, was perfect. Then about a year later, Max came around. I suppose he'd always been there, in the background of things. I never noticed him or didn't take notice of him until a few months later. That was when Sydney told me she was going to have a baby." Trent asked him if she'd ever told him who it belonged to. "No. She only said it had been a mistake and that she was going to give it up. That she was in no position to care for it. I know that now, but back then I thought I could be her knight in shining armor. I could barely keep my own room clean…I have no idea how I thought I'd care for a woman and her child. I wanted to…I was only seventeen and thought that I was deeply in love with her, but I told her that I'd help her. She was so kind to me about it, telling me that I had to grow up and find myself a wife and have my own children. Sadly for me, it never happened."

"The medical examiner only mentioned there was a child, and that she'd lost it upon death. I know that it was a few years ago, but there was never any mention of how she'd been killed either." Jefferson told Trent that he knew that. It was what he'd asked his father to do for him, and he'd told them what else he'd done for her. "Your father stopped the investigation?"

"Oh no. Not that. I just asked Dad to not mention the baby or how she was found. I mean, we never had anything to do with the police never finding who murdered her. I knew, but after what happened later, I could never bring myself to…I'll explain in a moment. But when she died, my father told the coroner that there was no reason to shame such a girl. And that her parents, if they were out there, wouldn't need to know about that either. My father agreed with me, saying that if it were his daughter, he'd not want to know that he'd lost a grandchild as well." Trent nodded. "As far as I've been able to find, there really wasn't anyone left to mourn her but myself. Her parents never came forward, and there was no one that came about the baby either. I don't know that he, whoever he was, had any knowledge of the child. She never dated when she lived in the brownstone. But she really was a very nice woman. And I did love her."

"Of course you did. From all accounts, she was a good person and didn't deserve to die the way she did. But I'd like for you to explain what you meant about explaining something to us. What happened to you, Jefferson?" Jefferson looked at TJ. "You said that something happened later. I'd like to know what that was, please."

"Max—he went by Benson back then—hated me. I guess I didn't really blame him, but I really didn't care. Still don't, not really. He was forever hanging around the building that Sydney lived in and banging on her doors at all hours of the day and night. I would wait for him, you see. Run him off by telling him I was calling the cops. They would show up and he'd be gone, but Sydney would tell them what he'd done if she was home. Or my parents would. I couldn't ever find a police report that was filed about it, but I'm sure that Max knew it was me." Jefferson glanced at the two men, then looked at the floor again. "I became a watchdog for her. Helping her hide out when he came around, warning her when I'd see him coming up the street. When he'd hang around her door, I'd sneak out the other door and go and tell her he was there. I tried my best to keep them apart. Even Noah had come by a few times, and I would keep him away as well. But I found out that all he wanted was her friendship, much in the same way I did. He told me that he just liked her and that he'd never cause her any harm. I believed him."

Neither of them said anything to him. He needed a moment and sat still on the couch before he could talk about her death. Max had killed her. And Jefferson was more than likely the only one in the world that really knew the whole story.

"She'd been at work all day and had invited me over for dinner when she got home. My dad was working, and my mom was at some function that night, so I said yes. Sydney and I would hang out together sometimes when they were gone at night. It wasn't often, but we had a good time together. Anyway, I'd gone home to get something that I wanted her to see. She was encouraging me to go to college and become a better man. But before I returned, Max had gotten into the apartment. It was my fault." Trent asked him how it was his fault. "I left the door opened so that I could return without her having to come and unlock the door for me. She was in the kitchen when I left, making us a bowl of popcorn to share while we watched a movie. It was how he got in and behind her. Max was right there, and I did nothing to help her. Nothing at all."

"You said that you saw him kill her. Is that right?" TJ asked. He nodded "What do you think you might have done to save her, Jefferson? Like we told you before, he would have killed you as well, and then he would have gotten off Scott free. Doing what you did, you might well have saved a great many other lives."

"Perhaps. But I still blame myself for her death. From the moment he knocked her to the floor with his fist to.... I was gone longer than I'd thought. I found a couple of things that I wanted to take back to show her, but when I got there, he was.... I thought she was on the phone with someone at first." Jefferson got up to pace. "He hit her, as I said, punched her in the face hard enough to knock her down. She hit her head on the fireplace, and I thought he'd just leave. But he didn't. He…he tore her underthings off and raped her." Jefferson closed his eyes as the image took shape in his head. He had never forgotten it…never went a day or night without thinking about it. "It took me a few seconds to realize that she was dead when he'd finished. He'd covered her face up with a pillow and was holding it down while he…while he took her. When Max stood up, his body naked from the waist down, he stood over her, laughing. I was positive he had no idea that he'd killed her."

He ended his walk by the window that looked out over the tree-lined street behind the building. It was a lovely park area. The trees were dark against the light of the grass. There was a little boy running with a puppy, laughing. Jefferson didn't bother looking behind him as he continued. The scene in front of him was so surreal that he watched it instead of thinking about the words that flowed from his mouth.

"He yelled at her, screamed really, telling her that she got no less than she deserved for tossing him away. He mentioned money too, how she'd kept it from him, and that's what got her killed. When her blood—and by then there was quite a bit of it on the floor—touched his shoes, he kicked out at her, and screamed at her that it was all her fault again." Jefferson could almost hear him telling her that she was nothing to him, that she should have just given him what he wanted and she would have died more quickly. "Max was going to kill her anyway, I figured out then. No matter what she'd done, he would have killed her. After she agreed to marry him and he got whatever it was he thought that she was holding from him. I don't know what he thought she had, but I think he was under the impression that she had money, and a great deal of it."

"He'd done it before. Not raping anyone so far as we know, but marrying for money, then killing his wife off. Three times that we can find so far. It was always a younger woman that had been left a fortune. Randal found at least two more since Sydney's death, and one prior to it." He knew that as well and told Trent that. "I was sure you did. But I wanted you to know in the event that you didn't. Max wasn't going to just go away. You had no way of knowing that then. Neither did Noah."

"He was a monster. Even after all of that, he continued to be one. I guess since I begged my parents not to…not to tell the police what he had done to me later, I sort of gave him the access to others. I didn't…I was a kid. Not a good excuse, but all I had back then. I was seventeen, overweight, and a nerd. I guess my pride was what I was thinking about then." He watched the young boy in the park playing with the dog as he continued with his part in the story that had gotten Max killed.

"A few weeks after she was killed, I was home alone again. My grief was profound, and I had taken to staying at home even when my parents would go out. I was hiding, I guess, trying to deal with the murder and that I'd done nothing to help her. The knock at my door never…it never occurred to me not to open the door, but when I did...." He shivered when he thought of what had happened next. "There were seven of them. Big men with Halloween masks on their faces and their shirts off. As soon as the door was open, after they shoved their way into my home, they started hitting me. I fought back, but I was no match against them and their size, and I was alone too. Then when I was down—and it hadn't been easy for any of them—they nailed nails in the floor with a nail gun. They had come prepared, was all my mind was working on. As I was tied to the floor by tying my hands above my head and wrapping the rope around the nails, they laughed and told me I was going to enjoy this and that they would, too, if I didn't. After I could no longer get to them to hit back, tape was put across my mouth after a wad of something dirty was put into my mouth to gag me. Then they did the same to my feet, tying me there as if I was nothing. I suppose to them I was just that. Nothing. After they beat me, kicking me to the point where I was sure I was going to die, they stripped off my clothing and each of them raped me."

He remembered it vividly. They'd taken turns with him, each man tearing into him while the others continued to laugh and joke about how much fun they were having. One of them had even taken him into his mouth, making him sick to his stomach even then. And when they were done, they untied him and left him there, his body beaten, bruised, and broken.

"I never had sex after…I'm sure that it's not called sex, what they did to me. But after that I was never able to let anyone touch me like that again. Then after a while, I never even tried." He leaned his head against the cool glass. "My mother found me there, bloodied and bruised, after they left. My father came in next, outraged that someone had done this to me. In our own home. It was everything I could do…I begged them never to tell anyone. I didn't even want the police to know. At that time, in that small frame of time, I thought it was just a random act, that I'd just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"When did you figure out it had been Max?" Trent's voice was soft, but Jefferson heard him. "He did tell you, right? I can't see him just letting you think that you were the victim of a random house invasion." Jefferson wished that was all it had been, but he really appreciated Trent not saying "rape." It was hard enough for him to say it, but to hear it from someone else was too much.

"Yes. He told me, took a great deal of pride in it, I think, that he'd hurt me like he had. About a week later, I get this card in the mailbox. I had no idea who it might have been from. There was no return address, not even a postmark or stamp. But it was him. On the front there was a picture of a young boy peeking in the window of a candy store. But he'd changed all the cakes to erect penises and pictures of bottoms. When I opened it, he asked me if I enjoyed my little fun, and that he thought of me often when he saw the men who had done it for him. He'd done it, he told me, because since I'd kept him from getting his piece of ass, he wanted to make sure that I had fun with mine. Then he signed it, ‘Love Benson.' I kept it. It's there with the rest of the things I wanted you to have. I don't know what you can do with it, but I brought it."

Jefferson felt relieved and overwhelmed at the same time. He was talked out, his body having spewed the story…and that was what it felt like to him. He knew that he could die in peace. That going to the police station now would be an end to this nightmare that had been long in coming.

"Jefferson?"

He turned to look at Trent and realized that at some point TJ had left them. He was more than likely sickened by what Jefferson had done. He knew that he would be if he'd heard this story. And neither of them knew the worst of it…how he'd not just planned Max's death, but his own as well, and in the last moments had chickened out of that as well.

"Come and have a seat. There's a doctor friend of mine here that wants to make sure you're all right."

Nodding, he made his way to the chair again and sat. He had no idea how long he'd been standing there, just staring out the window, but the doctor came in and had him lay out on the couch. He was gentle with him, but Jefferson still had to brace himself for each touch. It wasn't until he was asked if he wanted anything for pain that he looked over at Trent again.

"Why are you doing this for me?" Trent told him that he was hurt and needed it. "No, I don't mean that. Although I really appreciate it, you really have no need to do this for me. I'm sure that once I'm in prison, they'll take care of me."

Trent nodded at the doctor, and Jefferson felt the small pinch of a needle entering his arm. In seconds he was floating, and a few seconds more he was having difficulty holding his eyes open. But he looked at Trent again, asking him again why he was helping him.

Trent smiled before answering. "Because you're a good man who was dealt a shitty hand. Rest now, Jefferson. We'll talk again when you wake."

Jefferson tried to fight it, the drug that was racing though his body like a freight train. But he didn't have it in him, and in the end, he faded out.

~*~

"There won't be any charges brought against Jefferson. Not now or ever. As far as anyone is concerned, Max Ford didn't exist, and there are no traces of him to be found anywhere near Jefferson or Noah's houses." Joe nodded as Trent continued. "Noah kindly took care of the remains for him. Jefferson killed him with a great deal of rage. I'm pretty sure that Noah will be finding parts of him throughout the house for the next several years."

"He's selling the house. Noah said that he and the staff are going to find somewhere quiet to live, and I guess Jefferson is going to go and stay with him. Not as his day walker, but as his friend. They've become very close over the last several days." Trent knew and he told her he thought it was good for them both. "I think so too. Jefferson is seeing a friend of Noah's. A doctor. He needs to talk to someone that has no vested interest in what he's done, and Noah was agreeing too much with what he'd done. The doctor will listen and not cheer him on as Noah had been doing."

"There are those that would want to hurt Jefferson for what he's done. Others might be glad to shake his hand. But it's doubtful anyone will completely understand what he's gone through with this." Joe didn't think she would either after Trent had told her the rest of Jefferson's story. "Noah said he could make him forget it all, but he's a little afraid that it would ruin him. Those events, horrific as they were, made him what he is today. A good man."

"I hope you don't mind, but I've invited Jefferson to come and help me out on a few projects that I'm working on. He has computer skills that will help me out. Also, I don't know if you know this or not, but your brother Tanner is out of work. He went to an interview with a friend of Noah's to work as a waiter in a restaurant the other day." Trent asked her if he needed anything. "Noah is going to hire him as his attorney. I did it before for him, but Tanner might be better suited to it now that we are together. Besides, I think that Tanner needs this more than he thinks. Not just a job, but a feeling of self-worth. He's very…I was going to say depressed, but I think it's more that he has lost his confidence somewhere along the line."

"I don't know…I've always thought of Tanner as having his shit together more than the rest of us." She said he hid it well. "I guess so. I hope he takes on the job then. Noah is a good man, and he could do no better than to have you and Tanner watching out for him."

She paced the room, then sat down only to hop up again. Trent asked her what she was doing. "I'm nervous, if you want to know the truth. What if they hate me? This is the first time I've ever been a pack-mistress."

"It's pack-bitch, and no one could ever hate you. You're going to be just fine. And as many people as you've talked to this week, I'm reasonably sure that you've met them all at some point." She had been getting out a lot this week. It was that or hide away. Nerves tended to do that to her. "Mom said to tell you that she made your favorite cookies for the cookout, and has hidden some away for you for later."

"She makes the best pumpkin cookies I've ever had." They both sat down. "Did you see to those men from the other day, the ones I was telling you about? They really do need some work, and I told them that we'd find something until the new jobs you have coming in are set. When do you think that will be?"

"I did take care of them. They're now working for Elijah, and two more have gone to work with Dad. He's getting the three buildings downtown set up for several businesses. Mostly pack, but there will be others in it too. Dad is very proud that you asked him to help out. As for the new business, that's working along nicely too. It was great of Noah to put in a manufacturing plant here instead of in another state. That's going to help out a lot of people around here."

Joe just waved him off, thinking about the two men that she'd come to love very much. Trent's dad was going around like he'd been asked to be president or something, and Noah was having the time of his life.

Trent continued talking about other projects she'd been working on. "The two women that make those quilts are going to rent some of the space in the building and open a shop. They're not sure that they'll sell their wares or not, but they want to teach younger people how to make them before the art is lost. Did you have anything to do with that?"

"Maybe. I've spoken to a great many people, as you've pointed out. And a lot of them are very talented." Too many people, she thought now. And they all knew her well enough to come by for a little chat at the house when they were there. Joe had never been very good at chatting, but now it seemed she was doing it constantly. "Your mom is conspiring against me too."

"My mom? I don't think…what did she do? And if you're referring to her having my baby bed delivered to the cabin, I told her to stop that. She can be pushy." That had embarrassed her as well. During one of her chats, it had been delivered and set up in one of the spare rooms. "She does love you a great deal."

"I love her too. But I was talking about her telling everyone that I was a whiz at investments. I don't know anything but what I like." Trent said nothing as he finished dressing. She'd been ready for over an hour while he'd been out dealing with some last minute things that had come up. "I can't stop people from asking about stocks and things. I can't help them."

"Dad said you doubled his portfolio. And did it in less than two days. He said he wished he'd known you when he was younger…he might be as rich as Midas right now." She had. It had been easy. TJ had been willing to do whatever she said for him to do. "And I know that you work on Noah's investments as well. Did you know that Tanner is going on the same advice you told Dad? He said that once he gets enough money, he might open his own firm."

"Tanner needs a less aggressive and more long-term investment strategy. He has plenty of time to make money, while your dad wants to take your mom on a long.... What?" Trent just grinned at her. "That is not the same thing as being an investment banker. I'm merely helping out family."

"If you say so." If there was ever a time when she wanted to throat punch him, it was right now. "By the way, did you know that the pack is in need of a financial director? You should take it over. Make some long-term investments for the pack."

She told him she'd do it before she realized the trap. Being the director for the pack opened her up to all kinds of people coming to her for advice. As soon as the pack meeting was over, she was going to murder her new husband. Joe looked down at the rings on her hand.

Just over three hours ago they'd been wed. It hadn't been a big ceremony, just mostly family and a few of their friends, and it had been held in the field that served as the pack meeting place. The entire event had taken less than forty minutes, and she was now Mrs. Johanna Calhoun. She soon discovered that having five brothers was a little overwhelming in that they were more protective now than they had been before.

"Scott wants to know if you'll work with him." Scott was the only brother that had not kissed her after Trent claimed her. "He said to tell you that if you come and work in his office with him, he'll make it worth your while in donuts."

"I love donuts." It was a new thing for her. Usually one to avoid sweets as much as possible, she'd been turned on to pumpkin cookies and donuts in the same day, and she could not seem to get enough of both. "What does he do, anyway?"

She knew that Elijah was an investment guru, and had been having fun since he'd bought out Trent.

Sterling was still recovering from a horrific car accident that had killed two other people. He'd not been the one that caused it, but he had lost his job as a teacher when the pain had kept him from working. The college had needed someone to take the job now, and he'd not been able to do so. She knew that he still hurt from time to time, and Joe was pretty sure that he'd not told everyone everything that had happened. He looked like a man haunted by something horrific.

Tanner was currently unemployed, but looking. If he took the job that Noah was offering him, he'd be busier than he'd ever been, but he'd have the freedom that he'd not had as a lawyer in a firm. She, too, had hated being in an office all day, and was glad when she'd moved on to something more. Tanner was smart, personable, and he was a ladies' man. Joe wondered what the man would do when his own mate came along, and how the women he had in his harem would take it when he was off the market. It was going to be a great deal of fun watching the younger man get caught up in love.

Randal was a kindergarten teacher. She'd never seen a man more suited to the job than he was. He loved kids and was favored by them even after they left his classroom. Randal was also favored by the moms of the kids, and sometimes it got a little out of hand. She had to smile thinking about the other day, when he'd had to sic his mom on one particularly aggressive woman.

He'd been walking to his car, and his mom had been in hers just pulling in the lot to have dinner with her baby boy, she'd told her. Then this woman came out of her car and nearly tackled him to the ground. Randal had seen his mom coming toward them and had begged her to help him out. Christine had pulled the woman off her son and tore into the woman like she was five years old and caught stealing. Which, Joe supposed, she had been…stealing her baby boy.

Scott? She had no idea what he did, and looked at Trent when she realized he'd not answered her. "What is it? What are you not telling me?"

"Nothing bad. But Scott is an instructor." When he didn't elaborate, she asked him what sort of instructor. "He teaches couples how to have sex…you know, doms and subs, how to work their lifestyle out and become better partners. It's a process, I guess, and Scott is a natural at it."

"I don't understand. Doms and subs? You mean as in bondage and whips?" He told her that not all dom/sub relationships involved whips. "And this is what he does? And he wants me to come and work for him?"

"He said he'd like for you to come and be his receptionist. Scott assured me that you'd never be involved in the actual work he does." She tried to see if he was joking with her or not. "I know that you don't need the money, but it does pay well. And he said you can have stock options."

"You don't care that I'd be working in a…a sex shop?" Trent shrugged as he pulled her up from the chair and led her to the door. "I mean…really?"

"Yes, really. He wanted me to talk to you first, before you found out." She asked what his parents thought of it. "They don't care as long as he's happy and out of trouble."

She could see that too. The Calhouns loved their children without any sort of restrictions, and they supported them in whatever they needed to do to be happy. And they were, for the most part. She thought them to be very secure in what they did.

So, as they made their way out to their first pack meeting as husband and wife, and also pack leaders, she had to think of how to look Scott in the face and not wonder what sort of things he'd done that day. Giggling, she thought perhaps she'd ask him for a manual or something.