Have Gun, Will Travel (The Bare Bones MC #5)(18)
Sinking another hole in one, Maddy sighed as if it were everyday work. She leaned on her stick, the ultimate vision of the cool as a cucumber old lady. “How’s that guy of yours, that…what do you call them again?”
I had to giggle. “Dom? That’s short for Dominant.”
“Right. My sister June knows all that. Ford’s half-brother Lytton is a Dom, I guess. What’s that guy’s name again? Something funny.”
I didn’t think his name was funny. “Roscoe Flantz. He’s all right, I guess. I left a message that I’d be coming down here and he never called back. I’ve got a feeling things might be on the outs with us. Then last night, driving down here in my cage with Sax following me, the buckle on my collar broke. Is that a sign from above or what? It just slipped off my neck, I kid you not!” It surprised me that June and Lytton would be into the lifestyle. Now that it occurred to me, the sister of Madison did wear a collar, too. I’d always just assumed it was a decorative choker.
Madison smiled wryly. “You’d know about signs from above, Sister Colette. Well, that’s just typical of men, not to call back. I learned a long time ago not to bother leaving a voicemail for Ford. The few times he does listen to them, he doesn’t bother calling back. He’s much too busy. I guess that’s the price I pay being married to such a high authority figure.”
I took my shot with my cue, predictably missing. It struck me that Madison was trying to tell me something. Being a former novitiate, people seem to feel compelled to confess things to me. It’s all part of a day’s work. “Are you afraid you’re coming to some sort of a crisis with Ford?”
Madison set her mouth into a thin line. “That’s about the size of it, Beatrix.” We were alone in the room, so she could talk this way. I was sure the old lady of a Prez wouldn’t normally be caught dead speaking so frankly. But like I said, people seem compelled to confide in me. “I mean, we ‘do it’ a lot still, but that’s only because he always wants to ‘do it’ the few times we’re alone together. So if we’re alone twice a week, we ‘do it’ twice a week. But that’s all we do. Wham bam thank you ma’am. Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate all he’s done for me, and between the club and my job, there’s never a dull moment. But I’d just like…more. More alone time with him.”
I made another bad shot. “Sounds like you two need a real vacation, two weeks in Hawaii, like Roman and Gudrun in Barbados. How long are they going to be gone? Two whole weeks?”
“Three,” said Maddy with disgust. “That’s how it starts, doesn’t it? Everything all romantic. Then people start taking each other for granted. Ford acts like I’ll always be here for him. And the sad part is…I will. I’ll just be…bored.”
I asked the obvious. “Have you told him that? That you’d like more alone time?”
“Of course. It’s always ‘oh, sounds good, but there’s a meeting coming up. I’ve got to go to Nogales. Then I have to fly to New York City. Then there’s a conference in Vegas.’ Some f*cking roller blade show. He just bought a f*cking World War Two tank and he’s getting into driving that around in parades.”
I frowned. “Roller…skating?”
Maddy rolled her eyes. “No, rollers, those big pieces of equipment that flatten out the street. Blades, those big pieces of equipment that—”
“I think I get it.” But I really had no solution for her. I was hardly a f*cking relationship expert, having blown the few ones I’d had. It looked like I might inadvertently be blowing mine with Roscoe now, too. He actually hadn’t returned the past four voicemails I’d left for him, and I’d texted some light-hearted observations, some funny, cute, or BDSM-y links I’d thought were interesting. Nothing. I couldn’t begin to imagine how he’d react when I told him my collar had broken. He liked to yell how stupid I was, how everything was my fault. That was his particular style of domination, to make me feel low and small, like I had no other choice than to pick him.
That was actually nothing new, him not returning my calls. It was his way of letting me know that he dominated me, not the other way around, as he’d explained many times. He wasn’t at my beck and call. Literally, he didn’t jump when I said jump.
I had no savvy or soothing advice for Maddy, and I was glad when the door to the game room opened and the Pure and Easy Prospect, Wolf Glaser, entered. I brightened. Wolf was a funny, positive, upbeat sort of guy. Even though he’d just buried three rivals in one fell swoop a few months ago during a stash house raid, he was still a Prospect because he annoyed the crap out of most patch holders. I mean, I personally enjoyed his sunny outlook. But I could see where trying to get any work accomplished while still looking cool would be hard around the overly-enthusiastic Prospect who seemed to derive his methods from various procedural cop shows.
He clanked when he moved, like some people I’d seen in BDSM clubs. We called that “Utility Belt Syndrome” when they jangled like a car crash because they had so many dildos, anal vibes, cock rings, and nipple clamps chained to D-rings on their belts. Instead, Wolf Glaser had a Taser, flashlight, handcuffs, cuff keys, gun holster, magazine pouches, radio, and baton, in case he had to beat a bad guy to the ground. He was probably a wannabe cop who had somehow landed in the biker world, but he was an all right guy. Maddy seemed to like him.