Chapter 26

Slipping Away

WITH ARRESTS MADE ANDthe case closed, except for prosecution and conviction, they moved out of the hotel and back to Noah's place. He resumed his clinic work the next day and had surgeries scheduled by the end of the week. Eager to get back to work, and to have something productive to do with what was suddenly a lot of free time, Fiona called her boss and scheduled her return to work on Monday.

When Noah got home, she met him at the door and told him of her decision. He wasn't enthusiastic about the idea.

"You still have stitches," he reminded her.

"Yes, but my clothes hide them, and they don't bother me much at all." As long as she didn't twist, bend, or reach over her head, which she did a lot of at work. "I've missed so much time, and they really need me back. I promise not to overdo."

He studied her, clearly skeptical. "Why don't we wait to make the final determination on Sunday?"

She agreed but didn't call her supervisor just yet. Barring a major setback, she was going back to work. She had bills to pay, not to mention being bored out of her mind. Especially since she no longer needed a babysitter, and Noah had resumed clinic hours the day before.

She stood by, nervously wringing her hands, as he emptied his pockets into the tray on the console table. He noticed, naturally. Very little got past him.

"Was there something else?"

"Esme called. She and Keiran are going to the club tonight. There's a live band performing, and she says they're excellent."

"And you'd like to go."

"Yes. I've had nothing to do all day, and I'm so bored I could scream."

He breathed in, sounding fatigued.

"You're tired," she said, trying to hide her disappointment. But she knew what it was like getting home after seeing patients all day then having to turn around and go out again. "We'll do it another time."

"I didn't say no, Fiona. You're getting close to Val and Esme," he commented. "I approve. You need supportive friends in the lifestyle, and those two, not to mention Eric and Keiran, are good people to have in your corner."

With her drama finally settled, why she'd need people in her corner, especially when she had him, perplexed her.

"I'll go change," he said, loosening his tie as he headed for the bedroom.

"What about dinner?" she asked, following to the archway of the hall.

"I had a late lunch," he called back as he disappeared into his room. He reappeared in a moment, that she might need dinner clearly an afterthought. "Unless you're hungry. If so, we can grab a bite on the way."

"No. I had something late too."

He nodded and was gone from sight again.

Fiona's shoulders slumped as she stared down the empty hallway. She'd lied to him. She hadn't eaten since breakfast and was looking forward to going out with him then to the club. Now she'd lost her appetite and desire to go anywhere.

Gone were his teasing smiles and the playful banter. He still made love to her, but without the smoldering passion of before. It was always good with Noah, who never failed to get her off at least twice. Afterward, he'd hold her as she fell asleep, but they didn't talk like before. In fact, except for mundane conversation about dinner, like just now, they hadn't had a meaningful discussion in days.

Something else bothered her. At the meeting, when he said he wanted to move on, she assumed he meant with the case. Or she'd convinced herself that's what he meant. Now, she wasn't so sure.

Slowly, she followed him down the hall deeply troubled by the changes in him. Even though she no longer felt like being sociable, now she was determined to go. She needed to talk to Val and Esme. If they were in her corner, as Noah said, maybe they could help her sort out whatever the heck was going on with him. Because she felt him gradually slipping away.

THE BAND PLAYED MOSTLYcovers. That's what the crowd liked. They'd accept a few original songs mixed in. But they preferred dancing and singing along to songs where they knew every word, so that's what the four-man band gave them. They sat at their usual table with a group of their usual friends, and Noah had danced with her twice.

He held her close and confidently guided her around the dance floor, making her look like she didn't have two left feet, but without the playfulness of the last time. The spins and dips and smoldering gazes that made everything around them disappear were missing.

Maybe she'd built it up in her mind or imagined a connection between them that wasn't there. When they returned to their table, Noah ordered a second shot of whiskey. With his beer chaser, it put him at three drinks, one past the limit. Even if she was ready for a session, which she wasn't, until the stitches on her hip and shoulder were out and the cuts fully healed, there would be no visit to the dungeon for them tonight.

Still, in her mind, there had always been the possibility. But when the barmaid set his whiskey in front of him, and he tossed it back, he effectively slammed the door on the playroom. It seemed to ring in her ears with finality.

When Val and Eric joined them, Fiona shot to her feet. "If you'll excuse me, sir. I need to visit the ladies' room."

"Certainly, Fiona," he murmured as he quietly sipped his beer.

She caught Val's attention and tipped her head toward the hallway at the back of the lounge.

Immediately catching on, she leaned in to her husband and whispered something that was theirs alone. He inclined his head in agreement.

"I'll go with you, Fiona."

But before she had time to even think about standing up, Master Eric curled his hand behind her neck and drew her in, planting a kiss on her so smoldering, Fiona half expected the couch to burst into flames.

"Don't be gone long, sprite. We've got a demonstration in an hour," he reminded her when he released her.

"I...uh...um...won't be," Val stammered, completely befuddled by the potent dominance of her man.

Fiona was over the moon with happiness that her new friend had found her happily ever after, the second time around. A week ago, she would have bet every dime in her retirement accounts that she and Noah were on that path. Now, she wouldn't risk a single penny, and it was making her heart hurt.

When Val made it to her side, Fiona grabbed her hand and led her through the crowd, to hurry her along because she urgently needed to talk about this, and because she looked a little glassy-eyed and was definitely a little unsteady on her feet.

Distance must have provided clarity, or maybe it reduced the effect of the pheromones these doms emitted because, a few feet from the rear hall and a good fifty feet from Eric, she came out of the fog.

"Slow down," she exclaimed. "Your legs go on for days, and I'm in five-inch heels."

"Of course. I wasn't thinking," Fiona said, her voice cracking.

"Whoa, that doesn't sound good." Val yanked on her hand, stopping her. When she saw her face, she added, "And you look like you've lost your cat."

"I know. It's been three days," she whispered, sounding weepy, on the verge of blubbering.

"I don't know what that means. Is this about Noah or an actual cat?"

She drew in a breath, trying to keep from crying, and replied, "Both."

"I think I need help." Still holding her hand, Val twisted, and her gaze swept the crowd. Suddenly, she raised her hand and waved. "There's Esme. She seems to have Doc pegged."

The ladies' room had a separate area with lighted mirrors lining one wall, and the decor and seating were as nice as in the lounge. Val sat while Fiona paced, both waiting for the two subs who were fixing their makeup to be done and leave. In the meantime, Esme arrived and joined Val on the couch.

"What's going on?" she whispered.

"Something about a cat, and a problem between her and Noah. I didn't know she had a cat."

When the door closed behind the other women, and they had the powder room to themselves, Esme asked, "Now what's this about a cat?"

Fiona lost the fragile hold she had on her emotions and half blubbered, half wailed, "He hasn't called me kitten in days. I'm b-b-baby now, but mostly just Fiona."

Esme popped up, rushed to her, and enclosed her in a hug. Before she did, Fiona caught the wide-eyed, desperate look she gave Val. She received no help from that quarter, however.

"If you know something, tell her!"

Esme hedged. "It's just a hunch..."

Sniffling, she said with a shaky, hitching breath, "About what?"

"This is my fault. I pushed him," Esme muttered, nearly as distressed as she was.

"I don't understand."

She glanced at Val, who nodded encouragingly, then explained, "Without a mission, and a fair maiden to protect at all costs, the white knight is raising his shields. The way he looked at you, Fiona. I thought he was ready."

"I don't know what any of this means! Stop talking in code and fairy tales."

"Noah's world crumbled when he lost his wife and daughter, leaving him utterly devastated. He swore off love and erected shields around his heart. It's not uncommon. I did the same after Andrew died. The gut-wrenching pain usually eases with time. It never goes away completely, at least not for me, but you learn how to go on and love again. It took me two years."

"It has been five for Noah," she whispered.

Esme nodded grimly, as did Val. He was stuck, tragically, and perhaps by choice.

"How did they die?" she asked, feeling it was important. "He didn't say."

"And he won't," Val stated. "Eric says he refuses to talk about it. Which, as a mental health professional, I can say isn't the way you move forward."

"But he did, in some ways," Esme continued. "I'm a submissive and needed— Well, you can guess what I needed. But, like Noah, I thought I could play at the club and stay emotionally detached. That's why he only agrees to a scene or a night, no more."

"The subs nicknamed him Master One and Done," Val disclosed.

"But that doesn't matter, now," Esme insisted. "You broke through, Fiona. Like Keiran did with me."

"Not exactly. You have your happily ever after, Esme. Noah is pulling away from me."

"Oh, Fiona," Esme said, on the verge of tears herself. "I see so much of myself in him. He's afraid of getting hurt again."

"He'd rather be alone for the rest of his life than take a chance?"

"Don't let him," she urged. "Be persistent. If you broke through once, you can do it again. Keiran wouldn't take no for an answer with me."

Val sat down beside her and shoved a wad of tissues into her hand. "I'm so sorry, Fiona. I should have never matched the two of you together."

"She wasn't alone," Esme admitted. "We ambushed him and did a lot of arm twisting."

"Are you saying you coerced him into that scene with me?"

Val and Esme glanced at each other, which was answer enough.

She shot to her feet, pacing again. "Our scene crashed and burned before it began. We wanted different things; we'd never work." Except that they had for weeks. "I knew if I spent any time with him my heart would be lost. So I quit the club. It was time anyway. Then my life went off the rails." She strode back and forth, her agitation rising. "Detective Owens told me to go to Rossi for protection, that they would help even if I couldn't afford them because they had a soft spot for vulnerable women."

"He didn't lie," Val put in quietly.

"The next day, I walked in to Rossi, and Noah was there. He wouldn't hear of anyone else being assigned to me." She skewered Esme with a look, stating, "And Keiran agreed without blinking."

"Yeah," she said, squirming with unease. "They kind of stick together if you hadn't noticed."

"Ever since, it's been high-drama, uncertainty, and life-and-death stakes. Now, when it's just the two of us without the drama, we have nothing."

"That's not true," Val insisted. "You were dancing when I came into the lounge tonight."

"It's not the same as it was." Unable to pace any more, and feeling a little sick, she sat on the couch and put her head in her hands. "He took me in after they trashed and graffitied my place. I thought, no, I hoped..." Her voice broke.

"What did he tell you about his wife and daughter?" Esme asked.

"Nothing really, just that he wanted to try again with me. Believe me, there were warning bells going on in my head, but I hoped... We were good together. Better than any dom I've ever been with, and definitely any man."

"He would be, honey. He's a club master."

She frowned. "No, he's not."

"You're right, but he should be. They have the most experience, but there's also something special about them."

"It's the voice," Esme stated.

"And how they can make you melt with a look," Val added.

"Or make you fly," Esme said in a wistful voice. "So you do things you never imagine in your wildest dreams."

Noah had all of that, but where were they going with this, except to make her feel worse?

Val seemed to realize that and veered back on topic. "Eric and the others have nominated him several times, but he always turns them down."

"Why?"

She and Esme looked at one another before Val clarified, "He never says, but if he were here, with responsibilities to the club, he couldn't as easily escape."

"It's devastating losing a spouse, but even more so when he or she is your master or submissive. I swore I'd never give my heart or submit to another dom after Andrew. He was my master and the love of my life." Esme joined them on the couch. As she told her emotional tale, she gripped Fiona's hand while Val hung on to the other. "Eventually, the lifestyle I loved, that we loved together, called to me. I resisted for months. I thought I could get my fix with an emotionless scene with a stranger once a month and go about life as usual. It was unfulfilling and only satisfied a very basic physical need. Sometimes not even that. Then I met Keiran. The things he did to me..." She paused for a moment, her cheeks flushed as though remembering. "Then you know what happened?" she asked, snapping out of it.

"Massive guilt," Val answered without hesitating.

"Exactly. In my mind, I was betraying my vows. After our first scene, I convinced myself Keiran had fixed me and actually planned to scene with another dom on my next visit. He saw right through me and called my bluff. I knew I was in trouble because when you find that one special dom who connects with you on a visceral level—"

"You might as well give up your search," Val finished for her.

"Where do you think Noah is in all of this?"

"Feeling guilty," Esme replied.

"Definitely," Val concurred with a nod. "He had a double dose. He feels like he's betraying..." She stopped and frowned. "I can't recall her name."

"Claire."

"Yes, and his daughter. No doubt, he thinks he's betraying Claire every time he's with someone else and betraying them both just by thinking about a future with someone else, maybe even a family."

"And with me, there was no escape. He couldn't hold me to a scene or a night. He was my bodyguard. We had eight stinking weeks of drama, with our lives entangled 24/7." Fiona looked down at her clenched fists, the pain of her nails digging into her palms hard enough to leave deep grooves in her skin, not even registering until now. "Now that it's over, even if he wants to cut and run, he can't. His sense of honor won't let him abandon a woman only days after going through something so horrendous."

Val gripped her hand. "I thought the two of you were perfect for one another. He said no, plainly, but I wouldn't listen."

Esme took her other hand and squeezed. "I wouldn't take no for an answer, either, Fi. I thought you were it for him and was certain Noah was just being like me and needed a kick in the pants to wake up."

"Neither of you is at fault. Master Axyl warned me off on day one, and Doc told me up front. I didn't know his sub nickname, but I knew his reputation. Despite all of that, I jumped into bed with him. It's my fault. I'm the one who didn't listen."

"Talk to him, Fiona. Maybe we're wrong."

She looked back at Val, who, by all accounts, didn't get things wrong with human interactions and behaviors. This could very well be a first.

"I will, but maybe not tonight. I've suddenly got a headache."

"Yes. It's too soon after your ordeal," Esme agreed. "After the emotional high you've been on, I imagine coming out of it is a lot like sub drop."

"Are you saying I should get Noah a water bottle and a cozy blanket?" she joked, but it wasn't even halfhearted.

"I'd go with chocolate," Val suggested drily. "An entire cake, triple chocolate overboard with dark chocolate sprinkles. From what you've said, he could use a mega dose of feel-good chemicals."

She forced a smile while Esme forced a chuckle. Fiona didn't even try, worried that chocolate cake and all the talking in the world wouldn't be enough.