Red Zone Page 7

  I felt terrible about the fact he thought he needed to cut himself and risk his health, not to mention his life. Yeah, it was easy for me to say to him—hell man, it’s just football—but Kingston wasn’t me. And whatever demons were after him that had told him cutting and allowing some Dom to abuse him was a way to avoid the pain life was currently dishing out to him. Don’t get me wrong. When BDSM was consensual it was a beautiful thing, but what Kingston had been doing wasn’t sane and it sure as hell wasn’t safe. Truthfully, I felt bad—guilty—about it, because even though I hadn’t planned or wanted to come here and steal his position on the team, it was exactly what had happened, and I hoped it wasn’t what had driven him to hurt himself.

  If he truly was a natural sub, or a masochist, then I knew how to handle him. Or at least I thought I did. So mostly acting on instinct, I pushed him ahead of me into the small bathroom and locked the door behind us. Right away, he came at me swinging.

  Ducking out of the way, I caught his arm and shoved him up against the wall hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs. Stepping up to him, I pressed the whole length of my body against his and ground my knee into his groin. He winced and looked up at me with a totally shocked expression for the second time that day, as I held him pinned there against the wall.

  “This is getting to be a nasty habit with us,” I taunted him as I put my hand over his mouth again. I did it mainly so I wouldn’t have to listen to the curses I knew he was dying to heap on my head.

  “Shut up and listen to me, Kingston. I don’t get to see my uncle very often and I’ve been looking forward to this. You’re not going to fuck it up for me. We’re going back in there and you’re going to act decent if it kills you, you got that? Stop your damn pouting and eat your dinner and don’t make me bring you back in here again. You understand?”

  His eyes glared hate up at me, but I was so over that. I pressed my knee harder into his crotch. “Do you understand?”

  He nodded, another sharp dip of his head and I let him go and stepped back. “Go to the restroom, since you say you want to. I’ll be at the table, so don’t be long and don’t even think of going out a side door or I’ll track you down. Are we clear?”

  “Oh, we’re clear,” he sputtered at me, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re a douche bag.”

  I rolled my eyes and opened the door, leaving him alone. If he had truly been my sub, I’d have spent some more time teaching him manners. I heard the door lock after me as I made my way back to the table. The waitress had arrived with our drinks by that time, and Mason was taking a sip of his Coke as I slipped in across the table from him. “Is everything okay?” he asked, and I shrugged.

  “It’s fine. Kingston has some issues, that’s all. I’ve been trying to help him.”

  “I see. Isn’t he the boy on your team who was arrested not too long ago for sexual assault?”

  “Yeah, but he was totally innocent. The girl was lying and she confessed to it.”

  “That’s tough.”

  “I know. He had to spend almost a week in jail, and by that time, he’d missed the National Championship game, and my dad put me in to take over his position.”

  “And you won the game.”

  “Our team did, yeah. But it caused a lot of hard feelings, and even more when my father gave me the quarterback position permanently.”

  “Because you’re the better player.”

  “Maybe. I mean, yeah, I guess so, but he’s a damn good player, and it was tough, as you can imagine. He did the right thing and stayed with the team instead of transferring somewhere else, but it’s taken a toll on him. And now we have to share a suite in the team complex. I feel sorry for him, though I’d never tell him that.” I smiled across the table at my uncle. “Mostly because he’d kick my teeth in if he knew I said that.”

  “And when did you decide to take him on as a sub?”

  I almost choked on my diet coke. “What?” I said, almost choking. “What are you talking about? He’s not my…”

  “Yes, he is, or at least you’re moving in that direction. Come on, Memphis, this is me you’re talking to. I see how you treat him and how he responds to it.”

  “I can’t do that with him. It would be so inappropriate.”

  “Would it? He has a strong need for discipline and direction. You could supply that need. You could be good for him.”

  “I don’t know. A couple of times, when I’m all up on him, I’ve felt…something I shouldn’t be feeling. I think he might feel it too.”

  “Who says you shouldn’t? Look, just go with it. Or don’t. That’s totally between the two of you, but if that boy needs direction—if he’s lost—then maybe you do owe it to him to help him get back on track. Don’t forget I know how your father can be.” He sat back as we both saw Kingston emerging from the bathroom and heading toward our table. “Up to you, of course. But if you have any doubts about him and what you want from him, maybe tonight would be a good time to test your theories before you both get in too deep.”

  Feeling a little stunned, I stood up and let Kingston resume his seat, just as the waitress arrived with our orders. The food at this place was fantastic, so I dug in, trying to put what my uncle said aside to think about later. I was glad to see Kingston eat a little of his too. There was that possessive streak of mine rearing its ugly head again. I decided not to worry about it, because I obviously couldn’t change it. I ate my dinner, while Kingston mostly moved the barbeque around on his plate, but he ate all his cole slaw and bread, and he took a few bites of the pork. It was a start, anyway.

  After we ate, my uncle stood up and snatched the bill off the table. “I’ll go pay this and then I need to make a quick phone call. Meet you at the club?”

  “Sounds good.”

  We headed out to the car and right away, Kingston started trying to get out of going. “Club? What club?”

  “We’re going back to Checkmate.”

  “The fuck you say! Hell no!”

  “Hell, yes. No one expects anything of you. Least of all me. You’re just along for the ride.”

  “I don’t see why you need me tagging along. You said you didn’t get to see your uncle much, so here’s your chance. Drop me off at the suite—I have some studying to do.”

  “Sorry, you know I can’t do that. Not until I have a chance to get rid of all the blades in that place.”

  “Don’t be any more of a dick than you can help!” he hissed at me. “I didn’t mean to cut myself. My hand slipped, that’s all.”

  “It slipped three times, then. And that’s just what I saw. Bullshit. Those were deliberate cuts and you were flying so high when I found you, you were already in the stratosphere.”

  “I was not! That’s ridiculous.”

  “Tell it to the psychiatrist you’re going to as soon as I can get you an appointment.”

  “What are you t-talking about? “I’m n-not g-going to see any psy-psy-psy…” He choked the word out. “Psychiatrist!”

  I turned my head to glance at him. God, he was a wreck just at the mention of a fucking shrink. I felt like an asshole for scaring him. “Been to a few of those before, have you?”

  He turned his face to look out the window and just when I thought he was going to ignore me, he nodded his head. When he spoke, it came out so soft I had to strain to hear it. “My p-parents sent me. I hated it. They threatened to put me in a hospital for a while. I can’t do that, okay? I can’t go to any psychiatrists!” He turned those big eyes on me. “Please, Memphis.”

  “Okay, so no psychiatrist…for now. We’ll just keep this between ourselves for a little while, okay?”

  He nodded his head and dropped his forehead against the glass. The Dom inside me went into overdrive and full protective mode. I turned on the radio to give him a few minutes to collect himself, and we listened to Chris Stapleton sing about “Broken Halos” as we rode toward the outskirts of town. They've all gone wherever they go, broken halos that used to shine...
What had been done to Kingston over the years anyway to make him lose his shine so completely?

  And there was more to it than the false accusation and his subsequent arrest. More to it than losing his position as quarterback, though all that was bad enough. From the first time I’d met the boy he seemed empty inside. Sometimes when you looked in his eyes, it was like no one was home. I was determined to find out why. He may not want my help, but he was going to get it anyway.

  When we pulled into the lot, I put my truck in Park and turned to look at him. “Well, now you get the chance to have a little revenge. I go to this club regularly. Which means you have blackmail material on me now.”

  “I know you’re a Dom. I saw you that night.” He cast me an accusing glance, and then he smiled. “I can totally see it too. Does your father know?” He raised his eyebrows again. “Wait—you said your uncle was meeting us. Does he know?”

  “They both know, yes. My dad’s not happy about it, but he knows. And my uncle’s a Dom too. He’ll kick your ass if you smile at him like that, though…just sayin’. So, get your ass out and let’s go in.”

  Still smirking, he got out on his side and followed me as I went toward the entrance, digging my membership card out of my wallet. “Hey,” he said, catching up to me. “What will they think when they see me come back in here?”

  I looked down at him and smiled as we reached the door. I showed my card and said, “I have a guest.”

  “That’s good, Sir,” Frank, the doorman said, passing me back my card. “Have a nice evening.”

  I glanced back at Kingston as he followed me inside. “You’re with me. So they’ll think you’re my sub.”

  He stopped dead in his tracks, a look of sheer horror blossoming on his face. I grabbed his hand and pulled him over the threshold. “Come on, pet. This will be fun.”

  He shot me a deadly look as he yanked his arm away and would have tried to storm back to the truck, but a large group was coming in behind us, and he kind of got hustled inside. Dim lighting, dark corners, a lot of country music, and the smell of spilled whiskey and sawdust from the dance floor assailed our senses as we walked in. It was still early, too, so not much was going on yet.

  “I have a locker in back, so I’ll go change clothes. Sit at the bar and wait for me.”

  “Wait!” he said, grabbing my arm. “Why can’t I go with you?”

  “It’s only for members. Do you have your card?”

  “No, but…” he looked around himself and then back at me. “Someone might recognize me.”

  I wasn’t sure if he meant they’d recognize him as a football player or know him from the times he’d been here. He’d made quite a name for himself in a short time.

  “Just go wait for me at the bar and don’t talk to anybody if you’re nervous about it. I’ll only be a minute. If anyone tries to speak to you or hits on you for a scene, just tell them you’re with me.”

  I turned then and left him to his own devices while I went to get changed. I had a set of leathers I kept here in my locker, along with a pair of biker boots and some other toys. It didn’t take me long to change and go back into the bar to find Kingston. On the way in, I saw a few people I knew, including Bonnie, a sub I played with sometimes. She came up to me and batted her lashes at me.

  “Good evening, Sir. Are you looking for a date?”

  “Maybe later. I’m with a friend right now, and I’m expecting another one to arrive. I may catch up with you later.”

  She pouted a little, but gave me a flirty smile and twisted off to find somebody else. I went into the bar and found Kingston on a stool, drinking a beer and talking to one of the Doms, who had turned his stool toward him and was leaning into his space. I knew the guy—he was a cop from Birmingham, and nice enough. Really into caning. I wondered if he recognized “Danny.” I came up beside Kingston and put my hand on his shoulder.

  “Making friends?”

  He shrugged my hand off and glanced up at me. “Just talking.”

  I tipped my chin up at the cop. “Hi, Ben. How are you tonight?”

  “Good.” He glanced at Kingston, then back at me and smiled. “Sorry—no offense, I hope.”

  “No problem.”

  He slid off the stool without another word and moved farther down the bar.

  “Rude much?” Kingston said half under his breath. “People have always been weird in this club. I never liked it much.”

  “Then why did you keep coming back?” I asked and smiled as he flipped me off.

  I called the bartender over and ordered us both a soft drink. When he got them ready, I paid and nodded toward a table on the side of the dance floor. “Bring the drinks and follow me.” I never even turned around to see if he was doing it.

  He set the soft drinks down on the table and slid into a chair next to me. “Why not beer?”

  “I don’t come here to drink.”

  “What do you come here for? For one of them?” He nodded toward the bar where some cute young things were leaning and twirling around on bar stools, trying to catch some Dom’s attention. I shook my head. I’d talked to some of them, but they held little interest for me tonight.

  “No, they’re mostly sightseers, here to flirt around with the idea of being a sub. Sort of like you did when you used to come here.”

  He glared at me. “I played some intense scenes with the Doms here. I was popular.”

  “I’ll bet. You’re pretty and have no limits for pain, so of course they liked you. But you’re not a submissive. Just a poser.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  “You like to play at being a sub, but you don’t know the first thing about true submission.” I made my tone hard and implacable, and the smartass smile on his lips grew in proportion.

  “I know all I need to know.”

  “Do you?” I replied, looking him over and then turning away and taking a sip of my soft drink. “Why don’t you play your little BDSM games online, little boy? Maybe go to a chat room? You can probably fool someone there into thinking you know what the hell you’re doing. You’re not fooling any of the real Doms here.”

  He pursed his lips and turned his back to me. I was telling him the truth, no matter how he pouted about it. People who played at being submissive held no fascination for me. I was waiting for some of the real players to show up, actual Doms like Ben and my uncle, who would also no doubt flirt with some of those pretty girls and boys too, but then leave them strictly alone. My uncle Mason had told me on the phone when we set this thing up a week or so ago, that it had been too long since he’d found a good sub. He’d be looking for one tonight, as a matter of fact.

  I had no intention of taking anyone home tonight except Kingston, but I knew a couple of the subs here and there were a few who always showed me a good time. Bonnie was one of them, and though she was a little older than me, she was really sweet. I hadn’t found many limits with her yet.

  Ben came by the table with a young guy, a big hand firmly around the back of his neck. “Hey, isn’t that the guy from just now?”

  “He’s pretty persuasive. He would have been leading you off if I’d been just a few minutes later.”

  “He wishes. Why did he apologize to you when you came up?”

  “He thought you were my sub.”

  “What? Is that why he said no offense?” His voice had reached levels that only dogs could hear. Thank God for loud music.

  “Don’t lose your mind over it, but yes. Hey, I told you not to talk to anybody.”

  “I thought you were just being a dick!”

  My uncle arrived then, sparing me the need for a reply. He had changed into his leathers too, and he already had one of his favorite subs with him. I only knew him by reputation and from talking to him around the bar. His name was Jimmy and he wasn’t wearing a shirt and just standing with his gaze lowered, just behind my uncle. I heard Kingston’s none too subtle intake of breath.

  “You know Jimmy, don’t you?” My uncle was
saying, slipping an arm around his waist. “I have a new flogger that might just have his name on it, so we’ll be in one of the back rooms checking it out. We may be a while, but find me before you leave, okay?”

  “I will.” I glanced back at Kingston as they left.

  “Your uncle doesn’t look gay.”

  “What does gay look like?”

  “You know what I mean!” he hissed at me, giving me a dirty look.

  I shrugged. “He’s gay, though I think his sexuality is pretty fluid. I don’t have a problem with that.”

  “Neither do I, obviously. None of my business, but I was just surprised, that’s all. Is it unusual? For the club to be mixed like this one is?”

  “Not really. Especially with the smaller clubs.”

  He gave me a curious look. “How long have you been…did you go to clubs back wherever you came from?”

  “Illinois. And yeah, I did. I’ve been a Dom for almost two years now.”

  “Did your uncle…?”

  “Did he what? Train me? No, that would have been too weird. He saw to it I was well-trained though. By other Doms he trusted.”

  Another song came on, and a few people started to dance. I heard Kingston hiss in a breath and looked around to see what he was reacting to. That’s when I noticed a young girl with long, bouncy brown hair and a cute young blond guy who had just come in, looking directly at me and Kingston and pointing.

  “Oh my God,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “Do you know who they are?”

  “No, do you?” They looked vaguely familiar, but I can’t say I recognized them.

  “Those are cheerleaders! Amy Benton and Jaxon somebody. They’ve seen us!”

  “So?”

  “So? They’ll tell everybody we were here!”

  “If they do, then that means telling everyone they were here too. Besides, who gives a shit?”

  “I thought you did. You said I’d have blackmail material on you for coming here.”

  “I know, but I was mostly kidding. I have no problem with people knowing. My dad wouldn’t like it but I really couldn’t care less. I don’t like a lot of the shit that he does either.”