Beneath the Scars (Masters of the Shadowlands #13)(30)

Expression stern, he curled his big hand around her nape, holding her in place. His tone lowered. Darkened. “As it happens, I like gagging little subbies.” He ran a finger over her lower lip. “Listening to the helpless sounds, the whimpers, the begging they can’t voice.”

As her mouth went dry, she stared up at him, feeling a quiver deep in her core.

“Would you like to apologize?” he asked ever so softly.

She wasn’t sure her voice would even work. She swallowed. “Sorry, Sir.” The breathy sounding words were barely audible.

“Very nice.” Humor lightened his eyes to the mesmerizing color of sunlit fog. Leaning down, he kissed her lightly. “Get to work, subbie.”

As he followed Marcus out of the bar, she stared after him.

Because when he’d called her subbie, every bone in her body had turned to jelly.





Chapter Six





On Sunday evening at Oma’s dinner table, Josie watched her son fidgeting with his silverware. Her heart ached for him. For her.

He finally pushed his plate away. “I gotta go do homework.” When his great-great-aunt lifted her eyebrows, he recalled his manners. “May I be excused, please?”

“Of course, Carson,” Oma said.

With a sigh, Josie watched her sulky boy slink out the door.

As usual when she bartended, Carson had spent the night and next morning with Oma while Josie slept late. Unfortunately, at breakfast, Carson had begged Oma for permission to go to his friend, Isaac’s, after church. The rascal had known she wanted to talk with him. He didn’t return until suppertime, and from his behavior, he was still angry with Josie.

What should she do? Force him to listen to her explanations? Her excuses? Trash talking about Everett could make his son feel as if he came from bad seed. Josie took a sip of water, hoping to dissolve the lump in her throat. Maybe tomorrow night he’d be ready to talk this out.

“What in the world is wrong with that boy?” Oma asked.

Josie looked across the table at her great-aunt with a loving smile. Oma was white-haired and a bit stooped, complaining she’d shrunk at least four inches as she approached eighty. Her skin was creamy white despite all the gardening hours, because she slathered on the suntan lotion. She was the sweetest, most even-tempered, and sociable person Josie knew. And those sharp blue eyes didn’t miss a thing.

Josie only hoped she’d be as amazing when she got to her senior years. “Carson found a note from his birth father. It was the one Everett wrote when I told him I was pregnant. It says he wasn’t the father, that it was obviously one of the other men I’d been with, and he was happily married.”

“Covered his bases, did he?” Oma pursed her lips. “It’s a shame we humans don’t geld our males as ruthlessly as we do horses and cows.”

A castrating knife, Everett’s balls… “Don’t tempt me, Oma.”

“Carson wants a father, so he can’t get angry at Everett, which means he’s blaming you instead.” Oma gave her usual succinct summary.

“He’s definitely blaming me. He feels I should have tried harder to get Everett to accept fatherhood.”

“Ah.” Oma gave Josie a sympathetic look. “Children who want something rarely have empathy for anyone else involved.”

“I know.” It still hurt that her son had lashed out—and hit his mark. She’d been raised to believe sex outside of marriage was wrong—and Carson’s accusations brought the guilt back full force. “Maybe he’s right. I could have tried harder. Or tackled Everett again after Carson was born.”

“Josie, you’d barely turned seventeen, and he threatened you with the law. A more experienced youngster might have managed better but not an innocent from Podunkville, Texas.” Oma considered. “When I found you after I returned from Europe, and we talked, you told me why you didn’t go after him for child support. Do you remember the reasons you gave me?”

“Yes.” Josie pushed her uneaten food away. “He’s not the type of man to let a cent out of his grasp. He’d have fought me.”

“But you would have won.” The lack of doubt in her great aunt’s voice was heartwarming.

“Yes, a blood test would’ve proven my claim.” And there would have been child support. Her anger rose as she remembered how hard she’d worked to support herself and Carson, especially at first. Even a small amount of money would have helped. Carson wasn’t the only one who’d been betrayed. “But a public legal battle would have devastated his wife and child. And Pa, too.”

“I do understand you not wanting to destroy a marriage.” Oma slapped her napkin down beside her plate. “But your father… Although one shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, your father was an insufferable prig, not worthy of kissing my niece’s shoes. Or yours.”

“He was pretty rigid,” Josie admitted. Every year until his death, she’d sent him holiday cards. He’d never responded. Never forgiven her. Never met his only grandchild. She looked away, blinking hard. Harsh and often cruel, still, he’d been her father—and she’d loved him. “It’s hard for Carson to have no family except the two of us.”

“He has two people who love him, and that’s two more than some children get in this life.” Oma started stacking the dirty dishes. “Our boy has a good heart. He’ll get past this.”