Master of Illusion
Dallas pretty much hated himself. Worse, he was damn sure that Jane hated him, too.
He was a fucking mess, and it’s a wonder she didn’t just kick him in the balls. He sure as hell deserved it.
With a groan, he bent forward and lowered his head, letting the spray from the shower pound against his aching back, wishing that it could wash away all his mistakes.
His body ached as he remembered the way she’d felt on top of him, his cock hard inside her warmth. But he’d only been half there. The rest of him lost in a dream.
A dream of darkness. And torment.
A dream where he was at her mercy—Jane’s, the Woman—it didn’t matter because in the dream they’d been all mixed up. They’d been one. They’d been taunting him, torturing him, using him.
The first time he’d awakened to find himself hard and inside of Jane was like a fantasy come true. It had rocked him to the core, and the way she had taken control had aroused him so fully that for the first time he had hope that he might actually be able to finish inside her.
And now the memory of the Woman was destroying that pleasure. Taking something he cherished and turning it around on him, twisting it up now, seventeen years later, just like she’d done when he was a boy.
Fucking bitch.
He couldn’t take it any longer. He couldn’t live with the memories. With the fear. He couldn’t live knowing what she’d done to him.
And all he could hear was Jane’s words in his head. She took control? Take it back.
Well, fuck if that wasn’t exactly what he’d tried to do.
Except it wasn’t the Woman who was riding him. It wasn’t the Woman he’d tossed to the ground, slammed against the wall. A damp concrete wall, hidden away in an underground fortress.
It wasn’t the Woman he’d grabbed by the throat, holding her tight—so damn tight—as he’d thrust his fingers hard inside of her. Claiming her. Taming her. Proving that it was he who held fast to control.
It wasn’t the Woman he was punishing. It wasn’t a cell he was inhabiting.
It was Jane. It was her bedroom.
But he hadn’t stopped. Goddamn him, he’d kept holding her. He’d kept fucking her. He wanted to claim her, needed to have her. Completely. Fully. Needed to know that she meant it when she said she would go with him as far as he wanted to go.
Then he’d looked at her—really seen her. More than that, he’d really seen himself. His hand on her throat. The brutality with which he was taking her.
He’d thrown himself off her, then scrambled back, horrified, leaving her to sag to the floor, limp and coughing.
She’d told him it was okay. She’d told him that she was fine.
But he knew better.
It wasn’t okay.
And so long as she was with a guy as fucked up as he was, she wouldn’t ever be fine.
Once again, he closed his eyes, then shivered as he realized the water in the shower had gone cold.
With a curse, he turned off the water, then pushed open the door and reached for a towel. He was wrapping it around his hips when Archie’s voice crackled over the intercom.
“Liam is here. He’s waiting for you in the ops center.”
“Thanks.” His voice was hoarse, and he realized he’d been crying.
Well, why wouldn’t he have been? First he’d lost himself. Then he’d lost Jane.
God only knew what he’d lose next.
Dallas paused outside the door to the op center, breathing deep, trying to erase any last hint of Jane from his face. It wouldn’t work, of course. Jane was part of him and always would be, even if he knew damn well that walking away from her was for the best.
It was—he was certain of it. But right now he wasn’t in the mood to justify his decision to Liam. They needed to focus on Deliverance. On Colin.
And he didn’t need his best friend to tell him what he already knew—that Dallas and Jane were meant to be together, and it was only his own goddamn inability to get his shit together that was keeping them apart.
Maybe if he found the Woman. Maybe if he could fucking erase her then he could erase his fears and needs, too.
Or maybe he’d sprout wings and fly over the Statue of Liberty. Because that seemed about as likely.
Forcing himself to focus, he took a deep breath, punched in the code to unlock the door, and strode into the ops center.
Liam looked up, waving from where he stood in front of one of the computer screens talking to Noah and Quince, whose faces peered out from the monitors.
“So that’s the plan, then,” Quince said. “I’ve got a briefing in the prime minister’s office in an hour, but Noah and I will get going on our end.” His eyes cut to Dallas. “Good to see you, mate. Liam can get you up to speed.”
“Sounds good,” Dallas agreed, as Noah said his goodbyes, too, and the monitors winked to black.
“So what’s the plan?”
“We’re going to send Colin anonymous texts from a burner phone. Vague, but suggesting we know his secret. With luck, it’ll spur him to action.”
Dallas nodded, considering. “Ballsy. But dangerous, too.”
“True. But we need to make a play. After seventeen years, he’s not doing anything that’s going to spontaneously lead us back to the kidnapping.”
“I’ve been thinking along the same lines, actually. Thought I’d mention my conversation with Bill when I’m at Colin’s for dinner. Let him know that WORR and a few agencies are investigating the Sykes kidnapping.”
Liam nodded. “I like it.”
“Assuming he’s really our guy, either the texts or Bill’s investigation could spur him into making a move. But we’re also running a risk that he’ll destroy any remaining evidence. We need more eyes on him.”
“Already on it,” Liam said. “He makes a move, we follow. Noah’s going to pull Tony in for additional surveillance.”
Dallas considered the ramifications, then nodded. “It’s solid. Risky, but it may pan out.”
“I damn sure hope so. And we’ll also have the intel from the bugs you’re going to plant, so let’s talk about how that’s going to go down.”
“Should be easy enough. The point of the dinner is to show off the remodel of the house Colin bought in Brooklyn Heights.”
“So you can wander freely and praise the woodwork and casually mention Bill’s investigation.”
“That’s my plan,” Dallas said. “I just wish Jane wasn’t going to be there.”
Liam frowned. “Why is she?”
“Adele invited her. Apparently Colin invited Adele. So it’s going to be one big happy family, and I’ll have to plant the bugs without Colin or either of the women noticing.”
“Easy enough for a crack spy like you.”
Dallas rolled his eyes, and Liam sank down into one of the rolling desk chairs, then pushed backward a bit before kicking his feet out and studying Dallas. “So what’s the real reason you don’t want Jane there? Because it’s Colin? Or because you still haven’t told her everything she wants to know about Deliverance?”
“Both,” Dallas said. “Neither. Shit, man—everything is such a clusterfuck right now.”
Liam rolled his chair closer. “Tell me,” he said. And despite everything Dallas had told himself earlier, he heard himself saying, “I hurt her. Goddammit, Liam, I had her slammed against the wall with my hand around her neck and I fucking hurt her.”
To his credit, Liam didn’t push himself up out of his chair and bash Dallas’s brains in. Instead he said, very slowly and carefully, “I think you need to back up, buddy. Back up and tell me exactly what happened. And while you’re at it, I think you need to tell me why.”
It wasn’t easy. Christ, it was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. To tell his best friend the way he’d been tormented as a teen by that fucking bitch. To explain his screwed up, violent, horrible fantasies. The kink he was into. Everything he craved with Jane.
He told Liam that Jane had said she could handle it, but he’d never fully believed her. Hell, he even told Liam about the playroom she’d had built in one of the old maids’ rooms in her townhouse, part of a last-ditch effort to convince him that she meant what she said.
And then, worst of all, he actually confessed to his best friend that he hadn’t penetrated a woman since he was fifteen.
“Wow,” Liam said, blinking and looking a bit like he was in shock. “You really are badass. All those women saying you’ve fucked them.”
“Yeah, I’m just like David Copperfield. Master of illusion.”
“And seriously screwed up, too.”
And despite the hell he’d just put himself through, Dallas broke down and laughed. “Thanks,” he said. “Thanks a lot.”
Liam waved it away. “I don’t mean your angst or your cock. I mean that all this really is messing with your head if you’re telling it to me.”
“It is,” Dallas admitted, running his fingers through his hair. “And I haven’t even told you everything about last night.” He did now, though. About the intense sexual violence of his dreams. About Jane taking advantage of his erection. About the way he’d taken her, not realizing it was her. And then had kept on going when his senses returned, wanting to claim her. Needing to know if she could go with him as far as she’d said.
“And that’s why you don’t want her at Colin’s? You don’t think you can be around her right now?”
“Honestly, I’m more concerned that she’ll be okay seeing me. What I did to her … the way I just took her … Christ, I’m such an ass.”
“An ass? Maybe. But you’re also dense and blind.”
“What the hell?”
“Are you even looking at her?” Liam demanded. “Are you listening to her? Or are you believing whatever the hell you want to believe and seeing what you think you should see?”
Before Dallas could speak, his friend continued. “You’re embarrassed and scared and yeah, maybe you have a right to be worried, but you’re the one who ran, dude. Not Jane. Do you really believe she doesn’t want to see you? That she doesn’t believe you two can get past this? I mean, hell. She told you she could deal. Maybe you ought to do her the courtesy of believing her.”
Dallas’s stomach twisted, because Liam was right. He remembered her words from before they’d committed to being together. She’d said that he had her on a pedestal when she shouldn’t be. She swore that his darkness didn’t scare her. More important, she said it wouldn’t break her.
He’d told himself he believed her, but he hadn’t. Not really. She would always be on a pedestal to him. She would always be the one true thing in his life.
But maybe Liam was right. Maybe she could be both.
Hell, maybe she had to be. Because if she couldn’t be right down there in the dark with the real Dallas—with all his screw-ups and faults and fucked up needs—how could she be his truth?
“Dallas, man? You gonna answer me this century?”
“Sorry.” He drew in a breath. “I do want to get past this. Hell, I want everything with her. But the real bottom line is that I don’t want to hurt her. I can’t live with myself if I hurt her.”
“No? What do you think walking away from her did?”
“I thought I was protecting her.”
“Yeah? Well, that was—”
“Bullshit,” Dallas finished. “Yeah. I get it. I screwed up.”
“Big time. Doesn’t do you a whole lot of good to bolt. I mean seriously, man, I thought you had bigger balls than that.”
“She brings me to my knees, Liam.”
Liam nodded. “I know she does. And I’m happy for you. Not sure I could handle being so ripped up by a woman, but I get that you love her. And god knows I’ve spent enough time with you two to know you’re meant to be together.”
“So what should I do?
“Talk to her. Figure it out together. And in the meantime, you litter her birth father’s house with electronic listening devices.”
Despite himself, Dallas chuckled. “And there’s problem number 7536 we have to get past.”
Liam laughed. “You already told me that part will be a piece of cake.” He stood. “And one last thing. I’m going to give you the same advice about Jane that I’ll give you about me. Stop keeping shit from us.”
“You’re saying I should tell her about Colin?”
“Hell no. That shit you hide. At least until we’re certain. One way or the other.”
Dallas met Liam’s eyes. “Let’s hope for the other.”
“No kidding, man.”
They were walking out together when Dallas’s phone pinged to signal an incoming text. “Jane,” he said, glancing at the screen. “She says, ‘Look.’ ”
Liam glanced at him. “What the fuck?”
Dallas frowned. “There’s a picture attached. Hang on.” He opened it, then froze.
“Holy shit,” Liam said, obviously looking over his shoulder and seeing exactly what Dallas saw. Jane, and she was chained spread-eagled to a bed with a blindfold covering her eyes and clamps tight on her nipples.
Fear—cold and icy—cut through Dallas.
“Is there another message?” Liam asked. “A ransom demand? Someone sent this from her phone, but who the fuck would have—”
“Wait.” Dallas held up a hand, trying to think. Something about this was familiar. Something that eased his fear even though it didn’t quell it. “Wait,” he repeated. “This room. This room, it’s—oh, fuck,” he said, turning back to Liam. “This is the room she had built in her house.”
“The playroom you just told me about?”
Dallas nodded.
“So someone’s holding her in the townhouse?”
“I don’t think so,” Dallas said slowly. “I think she’s baiting me.”
Liam met his eyes. “You think she’d go that far?”
“Don’t you?”
Liam hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, I think she would. So what are you going to do?”
Dallas didn’t even hesitate. “I’m taking the bait. I can’t risk the possibility that we’re wrong. And more than that, like you said, she and I need to talk.”
“And right now,” Liam said with a smirk, “at least she’s a captive audience.”