Chapter One

Present day . . . Club Devil’s Cove

 

“I’m not in the mood, Lucy,” Max’s voice cut through the air.

“But Master Jag, last night you said —”

“I changed my mind.” Max sighed at the obvious disappointment on the beautiful blonde’s face. “I’m sorry, Lucy but I have work to do. I’m not staying.”

“Problems, Master Jag?” Keon drawled in a deep voice from behind him. Keon LeLuc was co-owner of the club as well as a partner in Precision Secure with Max and their friends.

“Nothing I can’t handle, Master Blade.” Max said with a smile, pointing at Wade who was heading their way. “Master Wade, if you haven’t picked a sub yet, Lucy is very interested to scene tonight.”

Wade Moore, the club manager, smiled at the sub that jiggled her breasts suggestively at him. The white mini dress she wore barely covered the necessary parts.

“Well, thank you, Master Jag. It saves me the trouble. Shall we, Lucy?”

Max watched the couple walk toward the patio leading to the maze on one side of the club.

“Out with it, Max. It’s not like you to say no to a willing sub.” Keon sat down opposite Max and searched his expression intently. Max was loved by the subs and Doms equally. His easy-going nature and dry humor was much appreciated. Of course, he was attractive; according to the subs, he had an animalistic magnetism they couldn’t resist.

Max’s shoulders rolled in a negligent shrug. “I’ve had my fill last night, Keon. Even a seasoned Dom like me needs a breather after an all-night orgy.”

Keon’s deep laughter rumbled from his chest. He shook his head. “You puppies can’t take the punch anymore, it seems.”

“Yeah, says he who wants only one woman since he got married.” Max glanced sideways at him. “Regrets, Keon?”

“None. I love Lauren, more than I thought I ever could. She has turned my life around. I feel complete for the first time in ages, Max. Maybe you should find someone special in your life as well.”

Max looked away. Keon wasn’t fooled. He’d seen the flash of regret in his eyes. Keon knew who Max was waiting for—had been waiting for—the past five years.

“Yeah, maybe,” Max said with a sigh. “Where’s Rhone?”

Keon rolled his eyes toward the mezzanine level, “In his office. As usual.”

“Has he spoken to Samantha yet?”

“No. He’s as hard headed as a rock. He’s miserable without her but I just get this ‘I told you so’ look whenever I talk about it. He’d been waiting for her to walk away from day one.”

“Who could blame her? He played hot and cold with her.”

“Yeah . . . much like someone else did a couple of years ago.”

“Leave it, Keon.”

“And yet, what are the chances of me winning a bet that you’re leaving here to hole up in your study, to keep searching for her?”

“Because I promised Jack I’d find his sister, Keon. That’s all. Don’t go searching for another fairy tale ending just because you’ve gotten one.”

 “Grow up, Jo. I’m not a young pup to be played with. I was upfront with you about the kind of lifestyle I lead. Don’t cry wolf now.”

“And that gives you the right to fuck every goddamned sub here?”

“I’m not fucking every sub—”

“Of course not. I must’ve mistaken the purpose of the line up outside the room when I arrived.”

“Enough. You’re my sub, not my wife.”

“Thank god for that!”

“This isn’t going to work. I don’t have the patience to deal with a jealous sub. Come and find me when you’re mature, Jo—maybe I’ll be interested, maybe I won’t.”

That had been five years ago. Max had walked away from the only woman he had ever loved. He hadn’t looked back since. Apparently, neither had she, because she hadn’t bothered to contact him after that.

“What fairy tale?” Jack asked as he slumped into the sofa next to Max.

“Nothing. Just a big, old softy over there, wanting us to find our fucking happily ever after.”

Jack grunted and took a gulp of his beer. “Monogamy isn’t for me, I’m afraid, so let me die in peace,” he chuckled. “Talking of wedded bliss, Master Blade. Are you aware that your sub is passing out favor cards in the dungeon?”

“What?” Keon bellowed. He surged upright and glared at Jack.

“Yeah,” he snickered and pulled out a bright yellow card from his pocket. “Claims Master Blade is neglecting her, so she’s looking for pleasure elsewhere. I got this one and it offers . . . hmm, lemme see, oh yes, an hour of oral delights—first cunnilingus, and then fellatio for me.” With pretend seriousness Jack turned to Max and said, “I guess it’s the teacher in her. Most subs would’ve said blowjob. Hey, Keon! Where are you going?”

“To whip my favor-toting sub’s ass,” he grunted and stomped toward the dungeon.

“Little Lauren loves to tease the big, bad bear, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, she sure does, and wouldn’t you know it, she always gets what she wants in the end.”

They sat in companionable silence, watching the entertainment area buzz with sexual energy. Club Devil’s Cove had seen much success since they opened their doors five months ago.

“The human trafficking bust had me wondering . . .” Jack mused aloud. “What if we have been following the wrong lead? What if there had been more than one consignment of sex slaves that had left the harbor at Santa Catalina Island?” His glance was unwavering on the swaying bodies of the dancers on the stage.

“I had the same thought,” Max drawled. He slumped lower in the sofa and stretched his long legs. They’d managed to track the plane that Joanne had been redirected to and found that it had landed in Santa Catalina. The container ship that had left later that day to Thailand had been the only suspect vessel.

“And? What did you find?” Jack didn’t really have to voice the question out loud. He knew Max well enough to know that he’d already followed up on his suspicion.

“There was another ship that left the harbor, a week later.” He glanced briefly at Jack. “It was headed toward Bahrain in Saudi Arabia, most probably to Khalifa Bin Salman Port. I’ve finally been able to uncover information about the plane that she’d been redirected to. It belonged to a businessman in Riyadh, Allah Sabinh, who owns an import/export business.”

“Which means she was definitely a victim of human trafficking,” Jack said, defeated. It had been the only thing that had made sense since her disappearance, but he’d foolishly been hoping Max would find something different. “Fuck! I’d hoped . . .”

“Yeah, but now I know where to look, Jack.”

“Any luck with that, Max?” Lance Talbot, the COO of Precision Secure asked as he and Richard Almar, the latest partner and IT guru of the firm, joined them. Clearly, they had overheard their conversation.

“So far, no luck, but I only just started looking.”

“I suppose that’s why we couldn’t find a trace of her in Thailand—even when we went there to search for her. She was never on that ship,” Lance speculated.

“Yeah,” Max said noncommittally. He didn’t want to give Jack hope. Saudi Arabia was largely a desert. If Joanne had been sold to one of the roaming Bedouin Sheikhs, the chances of finding her were slim to none.

Master Goliath, aka Bruce Rickett, tossed a red CM band to Jack, who caught it deftly in mid-air. Bruce, who was also Keon’s cousin, nudged Jack over and sat down next to him.

“Lift your lazy ass, Jack. You’re up for CM duty in the dungeon,” he drawled in his usual deep, gruff tone.

“Anything to lookout for?” Jack asked. He got up and slipped the band in place around his bicep.

“A couple of eager subs looking for playtime but other than that, everyone is behaving well enough.”

“No one would dare otherwise, with you hovering in the background,” Richard teased the giant man, turned his wheelchair and followed Jack to the dungeon. “I think I’ll go and help a few subs ‘misbehave’.”

“Hah, that sounds like a good idea,” Lance got up too. “You two joining us?”

“No, I’m about to head home,” Max said as he stretched his tall body.

“I think I better go and save my cousin-in-law. For some reason, she’s pushing Keon’s buttons tonight and it’s not going to end well for her delicate bottom.” Bruce searched Max’s expression. “I’m here if you wanna talk, mate . . . or if you need any help finding her.”

Max nodded. Bruce knew about the guilt inside him, more than anyone else. He had the uncanny ability to read Max and saw past his happy-go-lucky attitude. 

* * * * * * * *

Max deliberately kept his mind blank during the couple of miles drive to his house. It served no purpose to regurgitate the past, especially if it only brought regret and reproach in its wake.

Armed with a beer, he started scanning the saved satellite feed from Riyadh. Prince Khalid Saud had been operating the human trafficking ring from there, until he had been caught by the Precision Secure team a couple of months ago. They’d worked with Alex White who had spearheaded the operation with the undercover team infiltrating Saud’s palace, to save Ethan’s son and the captured women, found by Sean Scott, the undercover operative.

“I should contact Sean as well. Maybe he’s got more intel that he’d gathered at the time,” Max mused.

It was a slow process, but Max prided himself on being thorough. He had six monitors running with different feeds and his eyes skimmed each one simultaneously. His brain had been conditioned over the years to scan, assimilate, bank and then dissect. Always in that order.

“Wait a minute. The figure on that street corner five minutes ago . . .” Max muttered as he replayed the feed. It was on the corner of a busy intersection. “Yes, there you are,” he drawled. He took a swig of his beer as the feed began to run. A tall, lean figure loitered back and forth in front of the street cam. Max’s eyes narrowed as he leaned forward. The man’s profile suggested him being in mid-twenties. He was dressed in loose denim pants, red sweater and a bulky leather jacket. A black-and-white checkered Keffiyeh covered his head and black sunglasses sat high on his small, straight nose.

“Now, why are you wearing a sweater and a leather jacket in the hottest month of the year?” Max wondered aloud. The man stopped and turned to face the street cam. Max could swear he was looking directly into the camera. The man’s lips moved. “What the fuck?”

He replayed the section in slow motion and concentrated on reading the man’s lips. “I want to . . . hmmm, let’s try again. Not getting the last part,” Max concentrated harder this time. “I want to come . . . home.” He stared intently at the man’s face. “Hmm, let’s see what else you’re up to, young man,” Max said and let the feed play on. The man repeated the same pattern four or five times. Walking back and forth, facing the camera and repeated the same words. The last time, he looked around briefly, snatched off the sunglasses and looked into the camera, voicing the same words. “I want to come home, Maxi-milian.”

Max choked on the last word—his full name. Only one person had ever dared to call him that—apart from his and Jack’s mother. He stared at the face that was now frozen on the screen. He enlarged the frame. “Fuck me. Joanne . . . it’s you. I found you! Jesus, Jo, how the hell did you manage to survive? Hell, what am I saying? How the fuck did you escape?”

He leaned closer and traced the shape of her face on the screen with his forefinger. It was her. Max was stumped—unable to believe what was in front of his eyes. She’d lost weight and the stress was evident in the taut lines of the face that was staring back at him.

“She knew I would find her. She’d believed in me.” Max’s voice grated hoarsely in the silent room. “Fuck, Jo, where are you, baby? Where did you go from there?”

He concentrated on the feed from that point on. He smiled after twenty minutes. She was keeping in sight of the street traffic cams.

“How many times have you done this over the past year, Jo?” He asked aloud while he made notes on his iPad. “Now, it’s up to me to find you. Fuck, baby, I need more clues. Show me where you’re going.”

She got into an old bright green jeep. Max squinted and wrote down the registration plate number. It was a long shot, but he might get lucky if it was actually registered.

Max slowly became frustrated when she headed out of Riyadh. He lost track of her a couple of times but using the six screens, he always found her.

“Fucking hell, Jo, not the desert.” He grunted irritably but smiled when she stopped and sprinted toward the street sign at the side of the street. “Clever girl. She knows there are no street cams from that point. Ah, thanks, baby.” Max scribbled down “Yabreen”, the town name she’d tapped on the board.

He watched the jeep drive off for as long as the satellite had a visual on it. For the first time in over a year, Max finally had hope. He could feel the excitement inside him.

“I found her. Jesus! I can’t believe it. Damn, I’m proud of you, baby. So, fucking clever.”

Max hacked into the NASA GEO satellite but couldn’t find aerial coverage of Yabreen. It was strange that there wasn’t even an aerial shot of the area. He frowned. It seems the area within a thousand square miles radius had a ban on aerial photography.

His eye caught the date stamp on the satellite feeds he’d been watching. “Three months ago. I should’ve started with Riyadh and not wasted time scanning the coastal areas,” he berated himself. He spent the rest of the night running through the feeds and realized that Joanne had repeated the same ritual once a month, at the exact same date and time. She must be making regular trips into the city for some reason.

Max felt charged. The last trip had been three weeks ago, which meant that she would be in Riyadh in a week’s time. More than enough time for him to get to Saudi Arabia and to intercept her at that street corner.

He sobered as he stared at the frozen picture of her on the monitor screen once more.

“It seems too easy.”

Max researched Yabreen until he knew everything he could find about the inhabitants and who reigned supreme.

Two tribes had conquered that part of the desert. Sheikh Juhayman bin Muhammad, leader of Al Subaie, the renegades, whose headquarters was in Yabreen, and Sheikh Lufti bin Qara, who reigned over his own tribe, Banu Qara, in a neighboring town, Nadqan. There was no love lost between the two tribes and according to what he could find; they were at war with each other.

“One way or another, Joanne has been clever enough to disguise herself as a man. I won’t be surprised if she has infiltrated one of the tribes. How, I have no fucking idea.”

He shuddered thinking about what she must’ve lived through the last year.