With or Without You (The Dom's of The Cage Book 4) Read online

  With or Without You

  P. Nelson

  Copyright 2018 by P. Nelson

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any way whatsoever without written permission of the publisher except for brief quotations used in a book review.

  All characters appearing in this work are fictitious.

  Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  First Printing, 2018

  ISBN

  Is where I can’t live

  Chapter One

  “We need to catch this asshole.” Thea Demopoulos, homicide detective for the Vancouver Police Department, stared down at the naked body of a girl found on the shores of the Fraser River. Spread out on the sandbank, the victim’s hair flowed in the gentle waves like a flag, her bruised and mutilated body incongruous with her resting profile. Thea thought the woman could have been asleep if not for the strangulation marks around her throat. And the cross branded into her cheek. The mark was the reason the media had named the serial killer The Reverend.

  Thea knew the description was partly accurate. She and Linkin had followed a trail of emails and bank accounts of one Dominic Esposito, former religious leader of The Supplicant’s of the Lord. An organisation that on the surface fought for a morally clean society, but in actuality used public pressure to blackmail businesses out of hard earned money in order to stop their moral harassment. One of the members of The Cage where Thea worked as the Domme in Residence on her nights off was almost a victim. Not that she needed to think of Master Dillon right now. She was fighting for her professional life.

  “Uniforms who interviewed the dog walker stated they found the girl like this, approached, but, when it was obvious the girl was dead, did not touch her.” Thea Demopoulos’s new partner read notes from a spiral bound notebook in one hand before he glanced at her face. The man’s eyes were unsettling, but Thea shrugged off the feeling and stood up, allowing the forensics team to approach the girl’s body once again. Plenty of homicide detectives had the same hollow look in their eyes after a couple of months, let alone years on the job. No, reason to believe Detective Stanford was any different.

  “No ID, but if we take the other cases as our guide, it won’t take long for a missing person’s report to be filed.” Thea stood beside her partner and surveyed the forensic team as they gently turned the girl over onto her back to finish their work. Every muscle in her body tensed for what would happen next. The vulgarity of the crimes perpetrated upon this girl still made Thea blanch internally. Thea recognised the same sick branding on the girl’s breasts and belly. It would be another message from a deranged serial killer. More than anything, Thea wanted to look away from the carnage of flesh and bone. Instead, she breathed deeply and squared her shoulders. She would give this girl, this submissive, the respect she deserved in death.

  “Just have to cruise down to a couple of those clubs where the freaks hang out. Bet you one of those leather-clad, satsuma-swallowing perverts knows who she is.” Thea’s body tightened, and it took every ounce of control she possessed not to punch the man standing beside her in the face. She was one of those leather-clad perverts, although she liked to put the ball gags into her sub’s mouths instead of choke on one herself.

  “Bill, I thought you were more opened-minded.” Thea kept her response mild. The men and women she worked with might have their suspicions about what she did during her time off, but no one was nosy enough to say anything. That she was the Domme in Residence at one of the most exclusive BDSM clubs in Vancouver was her own business.

  “So did my third wife, until the cuffs came out.” Bill responded in a dry tone. Thea felt surprised by the thin smile on her face while eyeing the tragic scene. “Thing is, though, as soon as it was time to put the damn things on, all I could do was inform her of her rights.” Thea held a hand up to her face to stifle the smile. It was highly inappropriate, and by the glance at Bill’s face, she knew he was using his gallows humour to distract them both from grim reality.

  “Can’t understand why you’re divorced,” Thea sighed heavily. “You sound like a real catch.”

  “I know, right?” Bill commented. He looked up the embankment where a uniformed officer was waving at them. “That will be the media.” Media and cockroach might be interchangeable to Bill. Thea swore in her head. The media circus surrounding the case was already on the brink of dangerously absurd with a dash of the heart-wrenchingly ridiculous. The vanilla world already had a hard time understanding the true aspects of BDSM. All the victims of the media-styled Reverend Killer were submissives who played at kink clubs in Vancouver, so this made the spotlight more intense for the normally robust fetish community.

  “The department officially has a leak,” Thea muttered. She told the forensics team to get a move on. They didn’t need to provide the 8.00 a.m. morning news with a show. The girl deserved to have some dignity in death.

  “Could have been the dog walker.” Bill shrugged as he started to walk up the embankment towards the officer who had turned away from the scene and was addressing someone on the other side of the grass and dirt barrier. Thea followed him up. Bill’s comment made it sound as if he thoroughly disliked people and their asshole decisions.

  “More likely someone on the inside.” Thea reached the top of the grass hill that followed part of the Fraser River in this area to prevent flooding. She spotted the usual media vans parked on the other side of the police barrier tape. Well-dressed anchors were having their makeup touched up before the cameras started rolling. Scanning the scene, she spotted a car slowly making its way down the dirt track leading to the site, which made Thea swear at loud.

  “Looks like the big man has come out to check on our progress,” Bill pulled the words out between great lungsful of air. He was wheezing from the physical exhaustion of walking up the hill. Thea wondered why the guy didn’t retire already. They’d worked together for less than a year, his previous partner retired, and no one else wanted to take on the overweight, irreverent, and politically incorrect detective. Thea didn’t have a choice. As the woman in the department, Thea found shit rolled downhill towards her most of the time.

  More accurately, the chief was probably here to check on their lack of progress. Chief Barnes was under an enormous amount of pressure to catch the Reverend Killer, especially with the force’s record dealing with female homicides in the city. The Picton case would haunt the city for years to come. Vulnerable women and girls plucked off the streets of Vancouver, vanishing without a trace. That the Reverend preyed upon submissives from the kink world was enough to give the case the same malignant fear. The streets of Vancouver were not safe for females.

  “Something’s happened.” Thea’s brain raced with possibilities as the car lurched to a stop near the police tape. The camera operators shifted their positions to where the Vancouver Chief of Police was exiting his car, waving away questions from the reporters like a diner swishing away flies from his dinner. The chief looked up, squinted, and jerked two fingers back and forth indicating they needed to come down.

  “You’re not kidding.” Bill’s flushed face took in the steep slope of the embankment, and Thea could hear his groan.

  “Walking down is better than rolling,” she said. He looked over at her. “It will take forever for wife number five to get the grass stains out.”

  “Four.” Bill grumbled behind Thea as she picked her way down the mud and grass. She looked up to see the chief waiting for them at the bottom of the hill. His clenched jaw looked as if it could be doing some serious damage to his molars.

  “Demopoulos. O
ver here.” The chief jerked his head farther away from the camera crews now filming the chief and her walking away from them. Thea didn’t bother to look around for Bill. Even if he were inclined to give her aid, the chief would just send him away until he had gotten whatever was bothering him off his chest.

  The chief stopped after several yards, and kept his face turned away from the cameras. Thea did the same, a sick feeling building in the pit of her stomach. She had a good idea what this little chat might be about.

  “Tell me you don’t let random men tie you up in some dingy basement to catch this serial killer jerkoff.” The chief’s first words punched into Thea’s gut, and she mentally reeled. She thought over all the ways he could have found out about her secret identity as a Dominant.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I do the tying up,” Thea responded flippantly.

  Immediately, the chief bestowed the look he used on those who had greatly disappointed him. Many a rookie, both male and female, had cried their eyes out in the locker room after receiving a similar reprimand. Thea might be a formidable Domme in her own right, but Chief Barnes wasn’t just her boss; he was also her father’s best friend.

  “Whatever it is you’re about to say, stop.” The chief didn’t add any hand movements or even raise his voice. The tone and the way his eyes were boring into Thea’s skull were enough to have her obeying. Damn. He would make one fine Dom. Thea’s next thought was of his wife May in slave pose, and she slammed the whole train of thought down fast. “You’ve been compromised, and I have to take you off the active investigation of this case.”

  “Chief Barnes, my extracurricular activities have no impact on my investigation into this case, and in fact, my contacts have proven useful. It would be a mistake to take me off this case.” Thea stood her ground. She was a damn good detective with years of experience under her belt. The attacks were in her world, against her people. It was personal for her. “I’ve already established the Reverend is a man named Dominic Esposito. He has plenty of aliases, but Esposito leads back to The Supplicants of the Lord Church. You’ve read the file. This guy has it out for people in the lifestyle. Vulnerable people in the BDSM community. I’m the only one who can break this case.”

  “You’re off as lead investigator.” Chief Barnes shook his head once in an uncharacteristic show of emotion. “I’ve read the report. Frankly, I’d like to know where you got most of the cyber intelligence from because it certainly wasn’t from one of ours. Looks far too sophisticated and you know I can’t go around arresting people with information that has been hacked or stolen by quasi criminal private sector cowboys.” He inhaled deeply, regret in his eyes. “There’s nothing to negotiate here. Once the media find the link with your other persona and this case, I’ll have to take action. As it stands now, I just heard of your activities, and I’m operating within the VPD guidelines. Your record stands as an advocate for your good work, and you’ll continue to operate in an auxiliary position for this case, giving advice where needed.”

  “Yes, chief.” Thea acquiesced even though she thought the words might stick in her throat. There was no arguing with Chief Barnes. He was the end of the damn road when it came to exercising authority in the Vancouver PD.

  “Good. I have personally reassigned you to another case. You’ll be happy to know Bill will stay on as lead on this case. The two of you could probably use some time apart.” His judgement and sentencing complete, the chief turned to walk back to his car, which was now crawling with reporters. Thea noticed his body jerk to a stop, and he looked back at her, grey eyes met her own in an intense stare. “Was it the job? You know, that made you turn to this?”

  Thea winced. Like she had some an unnameable, horrible addiction that would ultimately end with a downward spiral, living on the streets, and an anonymous death.

  “No.” Thea raised her hand to run it through her hair. She stopped the action just before her fingers reached her flame red tresses tied in a messy bun. Forcing her hand back down to her side, she looked at her father’s oldest and most trusted friend in the world. “I was born this way.” It was the truth plain and simple. Some people liked long walks on the beach, drinking pina coladas. Thea liked to do that, too. Except she liked to have a sub on his hands and knees in front of her to have a nice place to rest her high heels.

  “You should tell your father.” Chief Barnes’ eyes remained locked on her. “Unfortunately, I know by the set of your chin you’re not going to take my advice. But you know I had to give it to you anyway.” His shoulders appeared curiously hunched over. Thea watched him walk away. She had a brief movie reel play in her head of how a conversation about her kink might proceed.

  “Hey dad, I like to spank men’s asses.” A blank look before total revulsion filled the man she loved. Yup. Never going to happen. As the chief reached his car and cut through the media like a scythe, Thea thought of Dillon Ross. She thought about him more than she thought was healthy or acceptable, but after their night of crazy passion, her mind, body, and soul refused to give up on him.

  Bill started to walk over to her, and Thea put on her game face. She might not be officially leading this case anymore, but she sure as hell was going to keep working it on the side-lines.

  Chapter Two

  Dillon glanced around the most exclusive BDSM club in Vancouver and pushed his partially empty beer bottle around on the solid oak bar. The evening was in full swing with kinksters out to enjoy their favourite fetish; Dillon noted the feverish tone to the atmosphere. Members of the community wanted time to forget the horrors of the day: another sub found mutilated and tortured. Dillon was not a violent man, but he had some graphic ideas of how he would deal with the asshole stalking the city’s submissives.

  “Good to see you back.” Dillon looked over to see a fellow Dom, Linkin, pull out the bar stool next to him.

  “Flew back into town this morning.” Dillon looked the other man over. Before Linkin and his partner Martin had taken Delaney as their sub, it was normal to see the other man tight with tension. Nowadays, not so much happy-go-lucky, he was at least less scary to the submissives. Unfortunately, recent events had brought back the angular tilt in the other man’s chin, the hard chips of ice in his eyes.

  “You going to feel me up?” Linkin asked unexpectedly. Dillon barked out a laugh. He never would have attempted to make jokes, either. Or perhaps he wasn’t making a joke. It was hard to tell with Master Linkin.

  “Just. I don’t know.” Dillon didn’t know. The world was a shit sandwich at the moment. He had hoped to catch a glimpse of the Domme in Residence, Mistress Thea tonight, but so far, she was a no-show.

  “She’s in a private meeting with Master Flynn.” Linkin filled in Dillon’s attempt at conversation. Dillon looked to the back of the dungeon where the two spiral staircases led to the private rooms upstairs. Between them in the wall was the private security door leading to The Cage’s back offices. Dillon didn’t bother to pretend he didn’t know whom Linkin was referring to. The man was smarter than any other person Dillon had ever met, including Master Flynn who was the CEO of his family business, Banroch Industries.

  “Is there a problem with the public scenes?” Dillon pulled his eyes away from the back door. Intention alone was not going to force Thea to appear. She was in the building; it was only a matter of time before they ran into one another. His cock jumped in his leathers at the thought of one of their sparring matches.

  “No.” Linkin paused for a second, and Dillon frowned at his long-time friend. “She’s been taken off the Reverend case. No official statement has been given, but you and I can guess why.” More likely Linkin had hacked into the Vancouver PD’s database and found the truth for himself.

  “Some asshole has outed her.” Dillon’s blood pressure rose. There was a good reason anonymity inside the community was sacrosanct. As a successful and well-known porn star, he was exempt from anonymity, but people who held jobs like Thea’s in the vanilla world relied on other people’s discretion to
keep their fetish lives apart from their mundane lives.

  “Looks like whoever it was headed straight to the chief of police.” Linkin nodded once. His predator’s gaze moving away from Dillon sharply as the door to the ladies’ changing room opened, and his sub came out. Delaney walked straight to her other Dom, Martin, and gave him a hug in place of kneeling down into her slave pose. “She recognised the girl they found this morning.”

  “Damn,” Dillon swore on an exhalation. Dillon knew two of the five victims in passing. The kink world could become overcrowded occasionally.

  “Indeed,” Linkin replied and made to leave the barstool. “Give her a break tonight. I know you like to bust her balls, but I know she’s had a shit day.” For Linkin to be handing out advice that did not pertain to the discipline of a sub was rare, and it made Dillon wonder what information he’d mined out of the Vancouver PD.

  “Thanks, man, and stay safe,” Dillon added. Linkin’s head swivelled back so quickly, his eyes burned with an unholy light Dillon would be happy to never see ever again.

  “Don’t worry about Delaney. Any fucker who even looks at her with a raised eyebrow is going to find out what it feels like to be dismembered alive.” With those parting words sending a chill up Dillon’s spine, all he could do was nod in response as Linkin strode over to his partners. In many ways, Dillon was envious of the threesome. They had their problems, but they always ploughed through them.

  Dillon had no indication Thea wanted to work out their thorny relationship, and he tried to respect that. She helped him out of one of the darkest periods of his life. He was back to his fully functioning whip-wielding Dom porn star self, but Dillon realised the whole lifestyle was grating on him. Even his most recent shoot in LA had failed to lift his ennui. Midnights Nymphos should have been one of the best shoots of his career. A huge production with all sorts of creative people behind and in front of the cameras, but more often than not, Dillon found himself thinking of an impossibly long-legged redhead who he could allow to tug on his balls all day. If he was going to continue as a porn star, he needed to get some serious help and get over Mistress Thea.