Chapter Eight

Max

"Not very clever coming back for that, Ms. Bitch," Max muttered as he watched her run back to grab the collar before making a beeline for the road. At the same time, it filled him with a glowing satisfaction. The little witch had just sealed her own fate. A true sub felt lost without her collar, especially one that her true Master placed around her throat. Since she wasn't an experienced submissive, she had no idea the implication of her unconscious act.

Max had no intention of catching Wick. He had been expecting her escape. The deep dive Rex had done into her life had included her skills in the field. Milly had dropped the bobby pin when she had taken Wick a bottle of water ten minutes ago. His own expertise as a covert Delta Force agent made it easy to follow her undetected.

"Good girl," he purred as her first stop was at the restrooms, where she nabbed jeans, a sweater, and a pair of white sneakers. With her body covered, she seemed to have a newfound energy since she made her way to the airport in record time.

"Impressive, Wick," he said as he ducked behind one of the smaller planes when she stopped and looked around. That she found her way back to the airport after only traveling the road once was a feat not many people would achieve. Clearly, her natural instinct had kicked in and she had paid attention when they had driven to the beach upon arrival.

"She'd be a perfect candidate for Delta Force," he murmured as he followed her to the GoldenEye. Her movements were confident yet careful. Her destination wasn't a surprise. He knew she would go there first to find her belongings, which was why he had returned her phone and wallet to the pocket of her torn pants once he had gone through them before leaving the plane earlier. His eyes drifted to the sleek black and silver helicopter standing outside the CyberCo hangar. He usually didn't fly back to Miami on the GoldenEye after a club trip, preferring to make his way directly to his private estate on Key Largo. He believed tonight, he might not be given a choice. Wick was a qualified helicopter pilot and seeing as there was no other way to leave the island before ten in the morning on a commercial flight, he had a hunch she was going to steal his helo. Since the flight plan back to Florida was already in the chopper, she'd have no problem with traffic control. Hopefully, with the documents clearly stipulating the owner as M DuPont of CyberCo Airlines, she would leave the helicopter at the CyberCo hangar at Miami International Airport.

The only problem was that she would have knowledge of where the club excursion had taken them. If part of her investigation included obtaining intel on some of their members, that posed a problem. Not difficult to overcome, but it would involve ensuring she had no desire to rat anyone out… purely because it would displease him… her Dominant.

Max maintained his position as she quietly made her way up the steps and disappeared aboard the GoldenEye. Minutes later, she came running out and tore across the tarmac toward the helicopter.

"Fuck, I hate when I'm right. I wanted to get home early tonight," he mumbled as he straightened. Although Rex's report indicated she was a good pilot, he still held his breath as he watched the helicopter lift off the ground. The chopper was one of his indulgences. He loved flying over hills, mountains, and rivers. He would loathe it being damaged by an incompetent pilot.

With glowing eyes, his gaze followed the route of the chopper as it hovered for moments high above before heading in a north-western direction.

"Enjoy your freedom, Ms. Wicked Bitch. I'll be coming along to collect your debt for stealing my belongings." His chuckle sounded ominous in the stillness of the night. "Oh, yes, my little bird, we'll meet again. Soon… very soon."

Wick

Three days later, Martinique Avenue, Davis Islands, Tampa, Florida…

"How the hell am I supposed to find a man I only know as Master M?"

The frustration was rife in Wick's voice that echoed through the study. The room was big and airy, filled with lavish streaks of sunlight that danced through the large windows facing Hillsborough Bay. When she had searched for a home, the historic Davis Islands drew her back time and again. She loved the views of downtown Tampa, and the lavish, pastel-colored Mediterranean-style buildings dating from the 1920s had always been her favorite.

"To make matters worse, now I'm indebted to one of the wealthiest and influential businessmen in the States." Wick picked up the flight plan she had kept after her daring escape from Black Point Island. How the devil was she supposed to know the helicopter belonged to CyberCo Airlines?

"Well, it's been three days, and I haven't been locked up." She looked up as a loud grunt floated toward her. "What? Would you have preferred it if I didn't escape? Who do you think would've fed you had I not nabbed that chopper?"

"Grruff." The half-growl, half-bark came from the perfectly groomed Belgian Malinois stretched out on the carpet, soaking up the mid-morning sun.

"Don't you sass me, Mister."

Lifting his head, he watched her with an unblinking stare. She shook a finger at him, more than shaken as the golden hue from the sun shining on his face made her think of the liquid gold globes she had been introduced to not so long ago.

"Enough! I'm the alpha in this relationship, not you." She stabbed her chest and pointed between them. "I am the Dominant, not as big and badass as that alphahole, but I'm still the boss. You dig, Nitro?"

"Grrarf," he grunted and laid his head down on his paws. Seconds later, he sat up, stabbed one paw in the air, and started reprimanding her. "Ruff, ruff, aarf, arf… ruuuff huumaan."

"Oh no, you don't," she slapped a hand on the desk as a stare-down between human and K9 ensued. "You don't get to yell at me."

"Ruuuufff uu."

"That's it. No treats for you tonight."

"Arf." He stabbed a paw at her. "Arfff, arrrrf." With one final sharp "Ruff," he walked out of the room as regal as any king.

"Why am I suddenly surrounded by alphaholes?" she muttered as she slammed her laptop shut and walked out onto the patio.

There was something familiar about Master M, but she couldn't place where she had seen him. She had searched the net, mainly through associations of Jax Crowthorne, but she couldn't find anything. Apparently, Master M treasured his privacy. Now, she had no way of finding him—however much she questioned herself for wanting to in the first place.

"Except if I approach Jax and outright ask him." But how did she do that without compromising her job? He was her target, the one she had to unravel. "No, Nitro is right. I have to find another way." One thing she refused to do was to compromise her integrity or the reputation she had in the field. "But what else can I do? I've looked— Wait! The Club! Club Decadent Skies. I heard Goldie and Molly talking about their website. Yes! Why didn't I think of that from the get-go?"

Rushing back inside, she started searching for the link. After ten minutes, she finally typed in the right keywords, and the elaborate black and gold site flashed onto her screen. Since she had been on the GoldenEye, she could see why people would flock to the website to sign up.

"I'm not a sub, and I'm not interested in the lifestyle, so that's not an option." Her frustration grew as she continued to click through the site. There was no contact option, which she could understand since it might open a hornet's nest for them.

"Well, since that's the only option, I"ll have to sign up as a member."

Hesitating, she stared at the ‘apply here for membership's button. For all she knew, the devious man would know she only signed up to find him. With any luck, he wouldn't know, and someone who didn't realize who she was would approve her application… especially if she signed up as Willow Carter.

"Well, here goes nothing," she mumbled and clicked on the button. Her eyes widened in shock. "What? Who the hell can afford to pay that much money to join a club? I don't give a shit that it's a highly exclusive-ranking BDSM club. I'm not paying what I made as a police officer a year for the privilege to get fucked in the sky. There are cheaper ways to join a mile-high club."

That may be so... but none of them had a Master M.

Gmphf! Annoyed at once again being slammed into another wall, she closed the search engine, switched off her laptop, and headed toward the door.

"Nitro!" she shouted. "Let's go for a run. I need to clear my head."

"Ruff, ruff… arfff. Arrffoo."

"Yeah, yeah, enough dramatics. Go get your leash." One of the stable things in her life was Nitro. He'd been with her for five years, and she couldn't envision her life without him. A trained K9 military dog, she had adopted him once he had been retired from service after a critical gunshot wound during a tour in Afghanistan. He had been too traumatized to return to fieldwork, and his handler was unreachable. At the time, they had healed together and formed an unbreakable bond. He had become her rock, the foundation that grounded her. Unbeknownst to her, he filled the void left by being fatherless and walking away from her mother for good five years ago.