Chapter 20

January 23nd, 2007, Monday

Carol

It was information she could get nowhere else she knew of.

Still, calling Lanier’s people was enough to make her wish there was any other way.

While Margo was shopping at Mr. Antiquity’s for her and Harry’s clothes for the trip to Dominique’s that night, with Kelly’s enthusiastic, if very chilled, help, Carol phoned the ‘medium important’ number on Lanier’s card, bundled up warmly under a blanket in the office.

There were a series of very soft clicks, an electric tone, and then a computerized voice said, “Line secure.”

And the call was answered.

“This is Rossi, how may I assist you?”

The voice was calm, detached, completely professional, and still the woman sounded ... off somehow.

“Uh ... this is Carol Grimes...”

“Yes, ma’am, how may I assist you?”

“Mr. Philouma was planning to finance a homeless shelter, and now that he’s no longer...”

“Yes, ma’am. A moment please...”

Carol squirmed under the blanket, nervous, unable to hold still, even though she’d called when Lanier wouldn’t be available to speak with her.

The wait went on, Carol growing more upset every moment at the possibility the shelter would be unfunded.

“Mrs. Grimes?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for waiting, I am sorry for the delay. Mr. Philouma’s funding for the shelter is completely safe, eight shell companies between the shelter and even the remotest sign of Philouma family involvement. The funding is projected to cover construction and operating expenses for a ten year period. Mr. Lanier stands ready to continue funding the shelter for however long is required after that ten years, indefinitely, if need be.

“Is there any other way I may be of assistance?”

“No ... no, thank you.”

Carol hung up.

“You’re lookin’ a mite unsettled,” Mr. Antiquity said, his indefinable accent thick upon her ears.

“Yes I am, Uncle,” she replied. “But I’m sure a nice talk with you will soothe my nerves,” she continued.

“An’ some Kentucky bourbon probly wouldn’t hurt none neither, now would it?”

“No, as long as you don’t expect me to chase it with Lone Star...”

Harry

“Big Man,” Harry said, sitting by Eddie’s hospital bed, a hand on his friend’s arm, “this guy hurt you bad.”

“No shit,” Eddie grunted.

“Pretty sure this was the last fight you’re going to go into blind...”

“Nah, I’ll probably get stupid at least one or two more times before I’m done.”

“Don’t. I love you. I don’t like seeing you hurt like this. Anson took you apart in ... how long again?”

“Less than 12 seconds,” Eddie replied. “Harry, the only reason he didn’t kill me in the same amount of time is he didn’t want to. If he had, even at my most alert and most fit, I couldn’t have stopped him.”

“Sure of that, are you?”

“I been going over the fight again and again...”

“And pestering me endlessly for my take on it,” Kendry said from the couch.

“And Snarky Bitch Kendry and I agree,” Eddie finished.

“So, I trust my point is made?”

“It is, an’ it ain’t. Like everything, this ‘Society’ game runs on public perception. You look weak, you are weak. You look strong, you are.”

“How does it look when you get your arms and ribs broken, your ass handed to you?”

“It looks like I was defeated, but not weak. Or, at least not as weak as if I’d refused the fight. Plus, anyone who saw it knows the guy is a monster.”

“So, you’re saying I’d have no chance at all...”

“Maybe ... some kinda firearm, a lotta luck, the gods smilin’ on ya, with the help o’ some Marines, maybe a whole lotta Marines...”

“But not close up,” Harry replied, grinning.

“Not a gawddamn chance in hell. Karen, at the top of her game ... maybe, but she’d have to do it quick, before Anson could hit her more than once or twice. Li Kuan could take him because she wouldn’t dick around with anything resembling a fair fight. Don’t know how she’d do it, but she’d never let him see it coming.

“Harry,” Eddie continued, “I won’t face him again, not up close and personal.”

“You’re scared of him,” Harry observed, no judgment in his voice.

“Fuck ‘scared’, Harry. I’m terrified. I wanna dump a load o’ napalm on him, while the twenty best assassins in the world shoot him, and then I wanna drop a building on him.”

“You think that would do it?”

“I’ve already talked him out of trying nuclear, biological, or chemical weapons,” Kendry said. “Don’t get him started again, sir.”

They watched television together for a while, amusing themselves and Kendry with snarky commentary.

Eddie drifted off to sleep. Harry didn’t move, his hand remaining exactly where it was on Eddie’s arm.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen anything scare him this way,” Harry murmured.

“Would be surprised if you had,” Kendry replied softly. “Terrible thing, knowing you’re helpless in a situation.”

“Yeah ... especially for him. He and Karen have always been the tough, strong, and scary ones. Only place he feels helpless is where Rachel is concerned. Otherwise, ‘helpless’ isn’t in his dictionary.”

“I feel like...” Kendry began, then stopped.

“Like you failed him?”

She nodded mutely.

“Bullshit. You did your job. Out on the job, where Eddie’s treasure is safe and sound at home, you can protect him all you like. But if they’re in potential danger, they’re your only concern. If you act otherwise, Tamara gets hurt, like critically? He could shatter, and I don’t know if there’s enough emotional superglue in the world to put him back together then.”

Kendry smiled at him, and Harry pretended he couldn’t see how tight and forced that smile was.

“Take care of him. The ladies are swinging by to pick me up so we can deal with a for-hire county sheriff, so I gotta go.”

“Need to be the ‘male face’?” Kendry asked, smirking.

“Pretty much,” Harry chuckled. “I mean, we all know Margo’s the scary one, but I prefer, when dealing with the outside world, to keep her as a secret weapon.”

He leaned down and kissed Eddie on the forehead then gave Kendry a hug.

“Tell Tamara we’ll be by later this evening around supper time.”

The four of them endured being checked over by Sheriff Sheriden for wires or recording devices.

It was enough to make Harry wish they had one of the bracelets like Donna had used.

The five of them walked out into the County Sheriff’s Department parking lot.

“So, Sheriff,” Harry said, his best fake smile plastered on his face, “we appreciate you taking the time to see us. What may we do for you?”

If Sheriden tried to get them to say anything about bribing him, Harry figured the sheriff himself was wearing a wire, or carrying a recorder.

“How’s seventy-five hundred a month sound?” Sheriden said.

“Not nearly as good as a thousand a month.”

“Now come on, Mr. Grimes, that isn’t fair. Those Wexler women used to pay me seventy-five hundred...”

“Maybe they did and maybe they didn’t,” Harry replied, “and with them ... unavailable ... we have no way to confirm or deny. But I’m absolutely sure we’re nicer people to deal with than they ever were, and I think that entitles us to some sort of discount.”

“Well, maybe I could see my way clear to sixty-five hundred...”

“I’m pretty sure we could manage three thousand ... you dropped yours a thousand, we raised ours two thousand...”

The sheriff spit onto the dusty parking lot.

“Can we reach an accommodation at five-five?”

“All in all, you drop your price two thousand, we have raise ours forty-five hundred? How’s that fair?”

“It ain’t fair, Mr. Grimes, but if you want my services that’s the price.”

Harry looked at him speculatively.

“Aren’t we much nicer to deal with than the Wexler women?”

Sheriden rolled his eyes while shaking his head.

“There is that,” he allowed, “and, no offense meant, these ladies are a damn sight better looking. Can you do five thousand?”

“Done,” Harry said. “How do you prefer payment?”

“Lemme write down an account number for you...”

Margo

“Well, that went better than I’d feared,” she said. “What’s your take, Carol darling?”

“He’ll stay bought,” she said. “At least until serious pressure is applied. A federal investigation ... it would depend on what they had on him, I think. But otherwise? We’re good.”

“Well, let’s hope we can avoid federal notice ... which I always thought would be easy for me. More fool I,” Margo said.

“Yeah, you get involved with us perverted freaks,” Harry said, “and shit just gets weird.”

“You’re hardly one to talk, sir,” Carol said. “When you first claimed me, I think it was a week or so before you were able to get your head wrapped around even the most basic points of this new life of yours.”

“True, mostly I was just trying to keep up with you, and availing myself of your many charms every single chance I had.”

“True enough, sir,” Carol replied. “One more stop before the hotel and getting dressed for tonight ... I want to stop by the Corral, check on things.”

Time was spent visiting with the submissive residents who’d moved into town – Margo wasn’t planning on showing up to Dominique’s until 8-ish – while Carol checked out work on their new in-town house.

And Carol alone, since she wanted the interior to be a surprise.

“So, have any of you seen the inside?” Margo asked.

There were a lot of nervous looks and stammers.
“Uh, Madam,” one older man said, “if you order us to tell you, we will. But that would make Milady Carol very sad.”

“Well, let’s avoid that if we can ... is it ... nice?”

“Madam, I feel safe in answering that,” Frank, the older sub, replied. “It’s gorgeous, and it will be finished soon. Maybe by the next time you’re in town...”

Margo squeezed his arm in thanks.

“I appreciate that. Every time I ask her anything about it, Carol just smiles enigmatically.”

“Yes, Madam, that would be Milady Carol’s way.”

“For answering my question, feel like coming to Dominique’s with us tonight?”

Frank looked down at his shoes.

“I shouldn’t, Madam ... I have work tomorrow.”

“I’m a doctor, I’ll write you a note.”

He looked up, his face aglow.
“Yes, Madam, I would be privileged to serve. Would it be too much to ask a favor?”

Margo smiled.

“Sure, go ahead. Won’t promise I’ll grant it though.”

“Of course, Madam,” Frank replied. “Could everyone living here, the Corral I mean, go? We haven’t been out a lot with all of you gone, and Sandalwood tries, but to keep it manageable they cycle through all the subs in groups of ten or so and, well Madam, as you know, there are a lot of us.”

“I hadn’t thought about that. We’ll see if we can get our other Dominants to pitch in. Certainly. Let me call Chorale South and get a bus up here.”

Frank, indeed all of those assembled, fell to their knees on the lawn, heads bowed.

“Thank you, Madam,” echoed through the cul-de-sac.

Jason

“Wow, this place is...” Jason said.

“Awe-inspiring? Stunning? Indecently comfy?” Yan replied with a grin.

“Yeah,” Jason replied. “I mean, the guest house was great, the Me Lei was even better ... but this place...”

He stood in the wing’s central area, looking out through the balcony doors to the Pacific Ocean beyond, surrounded by the opulence of the room itself. Everything was done in a complementary color scheme of purple with yellow-gold accents. It all looked soft and inviting.

Vivienne, their wing’s Household Manager, said, “With your permission, I’ll point out the features?”

“Of course, please,” Jason replied.

“Well, after an accident in which a guest was minorly injured, we’ve redecorated the living area, recreational areas, and the bedrooms. You would have to work very hard to find a sharp edge, a hard edge, to hurt yourself against. The dining room and kitchen are different matters of course. And, if you are planning a wild drunken – or drugged – or both – orgy, we’d ask you to keep it in here,” she motioned to the room, “or the aforementioned recreational and bedroom areas.”

“I gather you’d appreciate it if we avoided the grand piano, too,” Donna said.
“Yes, Milady.”

“Well, Vivienne, we’re planning orgies to be sure,” Jason said, “but as far as drugs, we’re like to be far too stoned on pot to move around and get too crazy.”

“Very good, sir. Much preferable to eight-day-long coke binges.”

As she walked around, showing off the amenities, a question occurred to Jason, but he politely held it until she asked for questions.

“Ma’am ... how big is this space? I have a sneaking suspicion just this is larger than the house I grew up in.”

“2300 square feet, give or take a few, sir.”

“Yeah,” Jason muttered. “I was right.” Then more loudly, “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Next, let’s take a look at the kitchen. I understand you have your own chef...”

Their wealth of subs were unpacking, settling them into the master suite, while Jason and his coterie lounged on the balcony.

“Let’s get this over with,” he sighed, sipping his Sprite.

“Bad or good first?” Abby asked.

“Bad out of the way, then the good,” he replied. “Mannfred,” he said to their personal butler, “bring Bethany Torres in, please.”

“Remember, play the role,” Donna whispered in his ear.

“Yeah. Just don’t be surprised if I’m extra nice to our tutor.”

He sat at the table, his hand on Donna’s arm to his right, his other hand on Abby’s arm to his left. Lizzy was curled up on a towel at his feet. He was studying the ocean when Bethany was brought out almost naked. She was collared, cuffed wrists and ankles, all connected by heavy chains and she carried the excess in her arms, so they didn’t scuff the floor. Bethany staggered a bit as she was brought in front of him, and Jason resisted the urge to stand up and help her.

Bethany slowly went down on her knees, careful to keep the chains from touching the floor.

Jason raised his eyes, his face a mask of boredom.

“You again?”

“Yes, sir.”

In his peripheral vision, he saw Otter rolling her eyes in Bethany’s direction.

“You know, your present attire is really appropriate for the situation, but it doesn’t impress me in the least.”

“Sir?”

“I’m handing you over to our torturer, Nocturnia, and to the very discipline-minded Otter. You’re not going to be allowed to cum for quite some time, but I’m sure you’ll be taken to the edge many times. What’s your safe word?”

“Sir, I’m not going to use it.”

Otter was across the intervening distance in the blink of an eye, slapping Bethany’s face so hard Jason was surprised she hadn’t torn it loose of Bethany’s skull.