Chapter 9

Now to make sure he stays that way.

“Have you eaten, smiley?” Seth settled on a bar stool one down from Pike’s. Nodding to the stool to his left, he indicated where Quint should sit.

Quint slid onto the stool with a warm smile on his lips as he shook his head. “No, sir. And even if I had, the smell of the food here would whet my appetite. I’m not sure what’s cooking, but I’d love some.”

A blond bartender Seth identified from the dossier as Pike’s cousin, one of the O’Rourke clan, who now went by Curtis, wiped down a ring on the bar like he buffed a prized antique car. Seth waited for the man to look his way, recalling he was a switch.

Dropping his gaze to Curtis’s wrist, Seth checked for a cuff. Seeing none, he decided to address him as an equal. “I’d like the special, please. Also, a plate for my boy. Two whiskeys and two waters.”

“You want fries or a salad?” Punching the order into a panel, Curtis glanced up from under blond waves that fell forward as he performed the task, momentarily hiding a deep facial scar.

Leaning back on the stool, Seth hooked his arm over the back. “What would you like, my boy?”

“Fries, please, sir.” Quint shook his head, then patted his stomach. “I could probably use a salad or two, but I’ll just put in extra time burning the calories off later.”

One side of Seth’s mouth went up involuntarily, his gaze heating. One advantage to this mission, he didn’t need to resist Quint’s pull in moments like these. “I can get on board with that.”

“I appreciate how dedicated you are to keeping me in good shape, sir.” Quint lowered his gaze, letting his bangs fall forward, a flirty little smile on his lips. “I’m a very lucky boy.”

Curtis placed the whiskey tumblers on two bar napkins, serving Seth first and then Quint. The waters came next, in highball glasses filled with the kind of hollow ice cubes subs seemed to like to chew or stick their tongues through as they melted. A basket of what appeared to be homemade bar mix, still warm, came next.

Munching on a small handful, Seth made an appreciative sound as the herbs and seasoning burst over his tongue. “You have to try this.”

Lips parted, Quint met Seth’s eyes as he leaned in.

Arousal kicked low, Seth’s body responding in ways his mind couldn’t control. Hand curved under Quint’s jaw, he held his boy’s jaw immobile, depositing several morsels of the bar mix one at a time on his tongue before releasing him with a quiet “Chew, my boy.”

Behind the bar, Wren made an irritated sound while he grabbed a rag and began wiping up the wet spots other members were leaving on the bar. He snatched one napkin out from under the hand of a Dom seconds before the man was about to use it to wipe his mouth.

Another morsel of a pretzel between his fingertips, Seth placed it on Quint’s tongue, his gaze dipping to the red dart of heated flesh that absorbed a large portion of his focus. Forcing his awareness wider, he kept one ear out for threats and the other on Pike’s voice.

“Here you go, buddy.” Still on the bar, Pike reached over to snatch up a napkin and shove it at the Dom whose eyes had narrowed. “You missed a few spots. Looks like you’ve got come all over your face. I guess, here, could actually be that. If not, you want some?”

Seth rolled his lips between his teeth in an effort not to laugh as he met Quint’s thickly lashed dark blue eyes. How the fuck did Rhodey think having Pike down here unsupervised was a good idea? The sub would start trouble for sure.

Leaning in, Seth spoke against Quint’s ear, arousal building as the familiar sharp clean scent of his shampoo registered. “We’re going to have to rescue his ass at some point tonight. Mark my words.”

“Mhm.” Amusement danced in Quint’s eyes. “It’s a good thing you know how to handle sluts. That part will be easy enough at least. Unless he ends up getting attached to the wrong person.”

Seth popped one brow, enjoying the flirtation when all he’d allowed himself since waking up that morning was professional distance. “You questioning my abilities, sub?”

“Not at all, sir.” Quint glanced over to where Pike had gained the interest of a few Doms. And the ire of several subs. “There’s no competition. He just doesn’t know it yet.”

A sandy blond sub moved past with a tray laden with empties, shooting Pike a look. “At least you haven’t beaten the record. Another three weeks and I’ll win a chunk of change.”

Pike’s eyes widened with interest. “What record? I’m going for more than a participation trophy here. Help a guy out.”

The sub snorted, turning so Seth saw his oval face and boyish features that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a wholesome nineteen-fifties television show.

Matt Kincaid.

“Here. Have a look.” Taking a leather bound book off a shelf, Matt flipped open to a page with a yellow paper clip at the top. “Bet book. Let the staff know if you want to put any money down on one or find someone to go in with you on one of your own.”

“Thanks, man. Will do.” Pike eyed the book, smirking as he glanced over at the Doms, several of whom seemed to be making new bets among themselves. “I’m gonna have to make a new record. Fastest punishment is out… How about fastest fuck? Because that’d be stupid easy.”

Seth’s brows nearly shot over the top of his head, his scalp tightening with the rapid change in his expression. Coughing, he took a sip of water. “We’re in trouble, smiley.”

Sitting a bit sideways, Quint observed Pike for a moment. “I’m not so sure about that, sir. He’s enjoying the conversation with Matt. He seems more relaxed. With the Doms, he’s playing an angle. He’s probably hoping one of them will get him out of here. Which seems rather unlikely.”

Their plates were served a moment later, steak sandwiches with a dip sauce and fries that made Seth’s mouth water just looking at them. Overall, the feeling of the bar, along with the food, was surprisingly warm and homey for a place teeming with kink and testosterone.

“You’ve got a good point, Quint. Let’s gauge our moment for maximum effect.” Biting into the sandwich, Seth didn’t even care if it was poisoned as layers of flavor burst across his tongue, the juice running down his chin. He’d die a fucking happy man.

A bit away from the bar a door opened, a man in a sharp, charcoal suit coming out, his gaze scanning the bar. It settled on Matt, and the man’s lips tightened slightly as he glanced at Pike, then shook his head. He continued to the bar, looking at Seth. His jaw tensed as his eyes settled on Quint. “I can understand why you wouldn’t have anyone in the core willing to give you a head’s up, but I trust I won’t have to repeat this. No one sits on that stool besides me. Please move.”

Quint almost knocked over his plate as he jerked forward, standing quickly. “I apologize, sir. I wouldn’t have sat here if I’d known.”

“Excuse me.” Seth turned slowly, eyeing Lawson Gaumond. “Please don’t give orders to my submissive.”

Dark green eyes narrowed. Lawson held Seth’s gaze. “I was informed an investor was here to discuss exercising their membership rights. I don’t know who you are, but you’ll be afforded all the courtesy you’re due. I do know who he is. And he would not have gotten past those doors if not for you. He’ll be tolerated, but there are limits. It would be appreciated if you see to it he understands that.”

Seth stood, wiping his chin with the cloth napkin that had wrapped his silverware before he held out his hand. “Seth Bizenhofer. S.B. Holdings.”

Shaking Seth’s hand without an excessive amount of pressure, but firm enough to show he saw Seth as an equal, Lawson gave him a polite smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Your contributions have been generous over the years.” He placed a folder on the bar by Seth’s plate. “This is the membership contract and the club rules, which I’ll need signed so we can make this official. Feel free to ask any questions you have, now or in the future. I’ll make sure you feel welcome.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that. Can you let your service subs know we’ll need accommodations for the foreseeable future?” Motioning vaguely toward what he assumed was an office, where the man had emerged from, Seth smiled in a way that said he was happy but that could change at any moment. “We’ve signed the contracts. Both of us. My boy’s limit list is also complete. He’s aware of...all the written rules, but I’d appreciate it if your boy gave him a few pointers so there are no further misunderstandings.”

Lawson inclined his head. “I’ll see to it. We have one loft not in use at the moment. Would you like to be shown up there now or will you be staying at the bar for a bit?”

“The bar for now.” Seth gestured to the food. “You have a phenomenal chef. I plan to enjoy this and your excellent whiskey.”

“He’ll be very happy to hear that.” Something drew Lawson’s attention and he held up a finger for Seth to give him a moment before approaching the el of the bar, leaning down a bit and exchanging a few words with Wren. He shook his head, putting his hand on Wren’s shoulder. Sent the sub off to the galley before returning. There was something different in his eyes when they met Seth’s. “Bizenhofer. You’re Bizzy. One of the men Jared thought died in the blast.”

Seth inclined his head, masking the pain the mention of the event brought with it no matter how many times he’d tried to separate himself from the emotion. No amount of buying Jared’s comfort could ever erase the effects on them all. Himself included.

“I hope you know that we didn’t realize he thought we’d been...on the choppers. We’d parted ways the day prior when Quint and I were made part of a black ops team. We were in Mexico by that time.” Sawdust couldn’t have tasted worse on Seth’s tongue than the words he spoke. “Quint, take my seat and eat your dinner.”

“Yes, sir.” Quint kept his gaze lowered, moving to Seth’s chair after straightening Lawson’s.

Hand on the backrest now, Lawson seemed to consider Seth for a moment. He inhaled deep, then nodded. “Be that as it may, Jared is one of my closest friends. More than that, he’s family. This club is a business, and I’ll treat it as such, but your presence might make things difficult for him. I hope you’ll make every effort to avoid increasing the impact, whenever possible.” He shifted his gaze, his tone sharpening like he was having a hard time keeping things professional. “All this time and you couldn’t have reached out? Told him his worst goddamn nightmares were based on…” He trailed off. Shook his head again. “You might not have known, but you do now. Please keep that in mind going forward.”

“I don’t think either Quint or I could have imagined that his mind would have coped the way it did, but I do understand. There was a time during which I thought he’d died in the attack.” Whiskey glass in his fingertips, Seth took a fortifying sip, rolling the smooth vanilla notes over his tongue. He let his gaze drift to where Matt cleaned up the bar, racking glasses in a dishwasher between serving drinks. “Your boy is very efficient. You must be proud of him.”

“I am.” Lawson’s voice, his expression, immediately softened as he followed Seth’s gaze. “He’ll reserve judgement, so there won’t be any issues unless he sees someone he cares for being treated unfairly. If your boy is a credit to you, I’m sure they’ll get along well, and Matt will make sure your boy knows how to fit in and avoid problems with the other members.”

Matt looked up from where he’d just started the dishwasher, reaching for the garnish well to dump out some dregs. He didn’t speak, but it was apparent he listened intently. Well trained then, likely an aspiring high protocol service submissive. Or already trained as one for special occasions. Seth studied him for a moment before he returned his attention to Lawson.

“Rhodey warned Jared, so you don’t need to worry. If McCleod is true to form, he’ll ignore us both.” Sitting again, this time a little further down the bar, Seth gestured to Lawson’s seat. “Join us if you like. I hope you’re not jaded to this food. A sandwich like this needs to be experienced to be believed.”

Letting out a quiet laugh, Lawson took his place at the bar. “No, I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of Keiran’s cooking. I’ve already eaten, but I can stay for a bit.” He tapped his fingers on the bar. “Bring me a tea, my love.”

“Yes, sir.” Lovingly taking a sleek black ceramic teapot with a thin bamboo handle from a place of obvious honor on a low shelf, Matt ran warm water inside of it, then swished it around before pouring it out and beginning what appeared to be a carefully practiced ceremony of making his Dom his beverage.

Seth let his admiration show in his gaze. “I might drink tea if I got to watch that as a result.”

“He finds comfort in rituals like this. It’s a pleasure I hadn’t expected after…” Lawson trailed off, frowning a little as he looked at someone beyond the crowd. He cleared his throat, nodding slowly. “In any case, he makes an amazing cup of tea, but his coffee is exceptional. If you ever feel like coming down here for a cup in the morning, you’ll see what I mean.”

Chewing a bite of his sandwich, Seth nodded, attempting to determine in the bar mirror who Lawson had been looking at. “I’d enjoy that. Thank you.” He plucked up a fry, holding it to Quint’s lips. “You’ll learn how to do that. The tea.”

Quint appeared to keep his focus on Matt, but it was obvious he’d noticed the same thing Seth had, though his tone gave nothing away. “It will be my pleasure, sir. I’ll need quite a bit of practice to reach Matt’s level, but I’ll continue to work on it until my service pleases you.”

Tongue darting across Quint’s lips, Seth swept up the lingering grains of salt that sparkled there. “Good boy.” Sitting back, he absolutely did not give Quint a self-satisfied smirk at the look on his face. “Do you engage in high protocol functions much? He appears to have had a great deal of practice.”

“In private, yes.” Lawson’s lips quirked as he reached out suddenly, catching Reed by the back of his shirt as the sub skidded by. “Slow down before you end up dumping that tray on a Dom. By accident this time.”

Reed’s eyes went wide. “I would never do anything like that by accident, sir. Besides, most of ‘em are fighters. Fast reflexes.” He grinned, rising up to steal a kiss. “But I’ll be careful.”

“And slow down.”

“Yes, that too.”

“Good boy.” Lawson patted Reed’s ass, sending him off again at a slightly slower pace.

There was stability between Lawson and his subs. Exploiting that wouldn’t be an option unless Seth loosened some of the lynch pins around them. Curtis perhaps. Thinking over the web of relationships, the easiest pickings were Wren, Jared, and perhaps Jamie but only because it would rock Noah off his foundation. And getting to Noah would mean reaching everyone there. The ripple effect would be a tsunami he might not be able to control, so exercising that option would be a last resort.

Walking into the very place he’d been responsible for helping to support as a safe haven for one of the most important people in his life and blowing the doors off seemed perverse even by merc standards, but if that’s what the job called for, he’d do it. Quint needed to have a success to get firmly back in Vani’s good graces, and the human trafficking ring—not to mention the Gaumond criminal enterprises that Lawson’s father funded—needed to be taken down. In an echo of the choices he’d made to leave Jared and their unit behind, and had been making over and over ever since, Seth knew he really only had one option.

And that was to do anything and everything it took to make certain his mission was a success. Because if he didn’t—if he failed—it wouldn’t just mean letting down the men in this bar on whose side and behalf he fought whether they knew it or not, for years, it would mean negating every decision he’d made from the start. Including the first. When he’d taken Quint from a man who’d already lost too much for the human mind to bear.

He’d left the desert behind, but its barren landscape had never left him.

If he put even one foot out of line, failing the people he needed to save with each and every mission…

It never would.