Every day I work so hard, bringin’ home my hard earned pay
Try to love you baby, but you push me away.
Don’t know where you’re goin’, only know just where you’ve been,
Sweet little baby, I want you again.

Been dazed and confused for so long, it’s not true.
Wanted a woman, never bargained for you.

Dazed and Confused – Led Zeppelin

---

By Thursday, Kate’s zombie-like presence scares the proverbial out of me. Meanwhile, Elliot heightens my anxiety by texting every hour on the hour. The action of a desperate man. Time to call in the big guns. Zig Zags isn’t exactly Mom and Dad’s usual haunt but they don’t question the venue or the urgency. As they enter the bar, they look like the uber-couple to Elliot’s disheveled five day growth. I imagine that I look a little rumpled myself having spent so many hours in my hire car stalking a ghost.

If I could get him on his own I would kill Jack Hyde with my bare hands but every attempt throws up a hurdle. The feds have him on such a tight leash that there is no hope of getting past them undetected. Which only makes me curious as to what they are looking for. Sitting outside his house 24/7, while tempting is not an option. I have Kate to worry about and regardless of her attempt at a front, she is hellishly fragile. The thought of my strong and capable sister shattering is unthinkable but delicate glass can only sustain so much pressure.

Before everyone gets settled at the table, I send off a text to Mia to say I won’t be able to get our training session again. She won’t be happy, she’s been taking heat from Rory over my continued absences. I don’t give a fuck. Attending the training sessions with Mia has me totally on edge. Being together but not ‘being’ together is making us both snarky. More pressure looking for a weakness in the material that holds us together. One more session of watching her watching porn is going to turn me into a pole vaulting champion. I swear either my hand is developing RSI or I am going to get hypothermia. I wait for a moment to see if she texts back but there is nothing so I palm my phone before my mother can scold me for my lack of table manners. We order a round of drinks before I tell her why I’ve called them here.

“Mom, we need your help.” She looks from Elliot to me, trying to work out whether I have misaligned allegiances. If only it were that simple.

“Of course, darling. I take it this is about Kate?” Her eyes and nostrils flare giving me enough warning that her patience is running thin. Obviously, Kate has not been forthcoming with her.

“Yeah. Have you talked to her?” Bingo! There is the flare again. It was a vein hope that my sister might have suddenly gone female and turned to her mother in her hour of need. Carbs and alcohol became my sister’s emotional crutch a long time ago. She trusts no one to see her weaknesses. And that is why Elliot has had the door so firmly shut in his face.

“Only a couple of very brief texts to brush me off for lunch. Elliot, I don’t know what is going on but I gather you two have been fighting.” Straight for the kill. My mother is all warmth, charm and tolerance except where her babies are concerned. Then those very endearing characteristics get wielded like the weapons they are.

“Not exactly.” Elliot looks down at his clasped hands. Fuck, if he cries I’m gonna thump a waiter out of frustration. Everything in my files on Elliot Grey has indicated a guy who is carefree, jovial and aggressive when backed into a corner. Well, Elliot, meet corner. Where is your fighting spirit? Instead, his body hunches as if in pain without even the energy to run his hands through his hair. The Grey tell for frustration is eluding him. This is a spirit beyond broken and confused. Once more I find myself answering where he can’t.

“Listen, Mom. Kate…” Was beaten?…assaulted?…is losing her mind?… “is not in a good place right now.” I’m buying him some time. Badly. My father breaks in.

“Darling, Kate was assaulted last weekend.” Fuck, Dad, good one. Timing is everything. As predicted, Mom puts two and two together and come up with fifteen. Her glare, glacial, turns on Elliot who still can’t look up. Things are about to get ugly.

“What the hell did you do to my daughter?” Her voice doesn’t raise beyond a whisper but the sound slices through the air. Elliot looks at her, at first startled at the accusation, immediately followed by a liberal helping of good old-fashioned guilt. Dude, pull it togetherand lose the stunned mullet look. His silence broadens the limits of her patience. In other words, Mom’s leash is about to snap. “What did you do to her, you son of a bitch?”

She’s out of her seat and reaching across the table when Dad and I simultaneously push her back down. The wait staff look ready to step in I scan the room for media junkies. The only thing working in our favor is the axe that Dad wields in this town when it comes to gossip. I can see the staff quickly clearing a table in the back of the bar. Good move.

“Mom, it’s nothing like that.” Her breathing is ragged, her fists are clenched, her lips pursed. Shit! I discreetly push her handbag slightly out of reach, knowing she has a Ruger LCP 380 Compact in there.

“Then why the hell does he look so guilty?” She leans in to spit her question into his face. Mama bear is in the house. I want Elliot to react in some way, lean back in shock, aim some hostility back at her. Instead, his body remains bowed in shame. Another insight. If he and Kate ever get back together, they will have such a distance to travel to get past their guilt and pain.

“Julie, just calm down and listen.” Dad places a hand over hers. Wrong thing to do. She quickly pushes him away. I’m surprised he would try. He looks at his hand as if he has just touched fire.

“I will not be calm. My daughter was hurt and he is sitting there looking like a criminal. What am I supposed to think?” Just to add fuel to the fire, Elliot choses that moment to cry, simultaneously gripping the bridge of his nose and his stomach. Oh, hell. My training tells me to sit back and let the talk come from those most directly involved but my mother is on a trajectory to pain and dismemberment and Elliot is completely unable to mount a defense.

“Mom, it was Jack Hyde. He lay in wait at Christian’s birthday party and attacked Kate when she was alone in the garden, after everyone had gone home. Mom, look at me.” I take her hand and draw her attention away from Elliot. She looks at me like I’ve grown horns and a tail. I have to tell Kate’s secret. “Mom, Kate was pregnant. She miscarried.” Now, my parents do the goldfish thing as Elliot drops his whole upper body down, head firmly in his hands. Now people are looking at us openly. Well, fuck them!

In that way that only a woman can change her mind, Mom is out of her seat and around the table in a second. She pulls Elliot into her body and gives him the comfort he so badly needs while Dad and I look into our glasses. We simultaneously take another slug of scotch. This is Mom’s show now. All we can do is let it play out.

“Oh, my darling boy. She has shut you out, hasn’t she?” Elliot’s nod is barely perceptible but his sobbing increases. “Sam… handbag… tissues…” The carefully manicured fingers click and point until Dad jumps into action. Probably happy to have something to do. When she gets Elliot vaguely under control a waiter comes over with fresh drinks and ushers us into the private booth at the back of the room. Obviously, sobbing men are bad for business. Once we are resettled, Mom kicks into mama mode asking questions until Elliot has told her every last detail he knows about the assault. Given how unhinged Jack Hyde has been about Ana and Christian it was hardly a surprise that he would try to hurt someone close to them. My mother doesn’t know all of the details of Kate’s little stint in the burlesque club and how that may have attracted Hyde’s attention but that wouldn’t have been his only reason for taking out his rage on her.

“So the assault resulted in her losing the baby?” Elliot nods quietly, fresh tears hitting his jeans. Shit, he’s gonna make me cry. I glance at Dad who is surreptitiously wiping his eyes. “Do you still love her?” What kind of question is that?

“Of course, he loves her.” My voice is quiet but she glares at me any way. “What? He told me was going to marry her. That’s still part of the plan, isn’t it, dude?”

It better be or I’ll kill him.

“I love her so much, Julie. But she won’t talk to me. I can’t keep going like this. I understand why she cut me off but I can’t breathe without her. We won’t heal if we aren’t together. I just need one chance to make her see that.”

“Do you still want to marry her?” His anguished, bloodshot eyes look up at my mother’s face. Her protective rage has turned to sympathy in a matter of a few heartbeats so there is no reason to think she won’t change back into a two-headed monster if he gives her the wrong answer. I find myself looking away, whimp that I am. I don’t know which one I am more scared of, her or him.

“Yes. I wanted to marry her from the moment I met her. I’d do anything for her but she won’t let me.” He drops his head into his hands and mumbles, “Please, Julie, please help me.”

His body sinks further and I’m getting a little worried that he’s about to drop to his knees and prostrate himself at her feet. I love my Mom but there are limits. If Elliot wants to keep his pride he might want to rethink his current trajectory of handing his manhood over to his future mother-in-law on a plate.

“Oh, sweetheart. If there is anything we can do, we will. Of course, we will. But listen, Kate is very strong-willed. You’re going to have to get ready for a fight.” Good old Mom. Telling it like it is. Although, from what I have seen of Kate lately, ‘fight’ would be a good thing.

“I don’t want to fight her. If I could just get a moment with her. We just need to talk. We can’t fix any of this if she won’t talk to me. I know she blames me. Fuck, I blame myself. If she doesn’t want to be with me now, because I couldn’t protect her? Then I’ll go away. But I need the chance to apologize. I need to hear it from her. This silence is fucking killing me.” Oh, crap, he’s gonna crack up again.

“Okay, okay, honey.” It amazes me that in an emotional crisis, my mother goes all southern charm. “Ethan, we need to get into the apartment.”

“Mom, you can’t just bulldoze her.”

“Get your tail down, Silver. There won’t be any bulldozing.” She turns to Elliot. “Honey, if I know my girl she’ll be eating sorrow by the spoonful. Sam and I are gonna have to go in there and rattle her cage a little. Try and get her back in the same room as the rest of us. But before we go over there, when was the last time you ate, darling?”

Yep, she’s gone bona fide Texan on our asses. She tries, fruitlessly, to shovel food into Elliot who still looks like he’s lost his best friend. Shell-shocked would be an accurate description and I hope like hell I never find myself in his shoes. Just the thought of it has me longing for Mia and I start to finger my phone, trying to get another text to her. It’s been less than a week but I don’t think I can stand another night without her.

---

Less than an hour later I am letting my parents into the apartment. Kate is less than receptive to the whole intervention thing until they make it very apparent that they know about the baby and then the floodgates open. Eventually, my mother curls up on the bed with Kate for the night while my father breaks the news to Elliot that this meeting is not going to take place tonight but he’s closer to getting an audience than he has been all week. I make a phone call of my own to Mia. Her phone goes straight to her message bank and it occurs to me that I haven’t received an answer to my text earlier. Where the fuck is she?

The last contact I had with her she was going to Esclava to meet Elena. A chill runs through me at the thought of her with that bitch. When I know that everyone is settled in for the night at the apartment I try to track down my errant wife.

---

It’s a short walk from the apartment to Esclava. The salon is open late on Thursday evenings so I’m hoping that I’ll catch someone locking up. Unfortunately, that person turns out to be bitch-face herself, obviously counting up her millions or sculpting wax effigies, using hair and nail clippings that she has scraped off the salon floor. She looks up as I enter. Out of the corner of my eye I catch her assistant bitch as he tries to intervene. I’m not in the mood. She has the good sense to wave him away.

“The dom.” Her scrawny neck angles slightly to the side. One carefully aimed pressure point away from snapping. I mentally shake off the image. “You seem to be hanging around Mia Grey like a bad smell. If you’re looking for her, she isn’t here.”

“Where is she?” Elena stares at me for a long moment which might be her first mistake. Eventually, she turns back to her task.

“I have no idea. She was here this afternoon. She left hours ago.”

It’s possible that she’s lying but I doubt it. If she was hiding something she wouldn’t be able to resist looking me in the eye while she did it.

“I need to find her. There is… a family emergency.” This sparks her interest. She puts down the pen in her hand and walks out from behind the reception desk.

“What sort of emergency?” Her voice is calm but her eyes are genuinely worried. What is this? Compassion from La Lincoln? No, hurt that she isn’t in the family loop.

“None of your business. But I need to find Mia. Where is she?”

“I’m not sure I’m willing to help you without more information. Is it Grace?” Interesting that she doesn’t ask about Christian first. Perhaps the bitch has a heart after all. A quick look at her hard eyes pretty much squashes that thought.

“No. And it’s not Christian either.” She takes a deep breath. There it is, the answer you really wanted.

“Elliot?” I can’t help it, my jaw clenches. She nods her head slightly with a smile. Pleased that she has what she wanted. “He’s a big boy. I’m sure that he will weather any problems without Mia needing to be involved. He’ll laugh and joke his way through like he always does.”

“You don’t know shit about Elliot.” Her eyes widen. She doesn’t like anyone to question her insight into the inner workings of the Grey family. It makes her uncomfortable. A weakness to be capitalized on. I store this away.

“I know more than you would ever believe. I know that bitch he’s screwing isn’t going to last long.” Bitch? Ah, so she doesn’t know that Kate is my sister. Or maybe she does. “Oh? Oh, that’s just peachy. She’s dumped him?”

“No, she has not dumped him.” I smile. Pulling the rug out from her machinations. The eyes narrow.

“Shame, she’s trash.” In a normal case, where emotions aren’t running so high on a personal level, I might have deflected this comment with a little more style. But, you see, at this point I’ve had enough. Enough of watching my usually strong and vibrant sister fall apart. Enough of watching the one guy who has ever truly loved her falling along with her. Enough of that evil prick, Jack Hyde, being free on the streets. Enough of the FBI blocking me from killing him and feeding his body parts to the sharks in Elliot Bay. Enough of hiding the love of my life from the world and enough of knowing that she is going to be climbing, figuratively, into bed with this stupid, scrawny cunt trying to face me down. So, uncharacteristically, I break. Just a little. Okay, a lot.

In a second I have the peroxide bitch pinned against the wall by her throat. I stare at her for a minute wanting to cut her throat with a blunt knife. Hell, I don’t need a knife. But there are witnesses and still a job to be done. My wife will string my balls up as Christmas decorations if I kill her biological mother. Even if she hates her. In a moment of clarity I step back and drop my hand. She grasps her throat and coughs as she catches her breath.

“What the fuck is she to you?” So she didn’t know.

“None of your fucking business. Now tell me where Mia is.” Elena takes her time, straightening her clothes and hair. Getting her breathing under control. She checks in the mirror for bruising and satisfies herself that there is none. I’m not that stupid. If I wanted to leave a mark, I would.

“If you’re prepared to kill me over her I’m guessing she’s a friend. Maybe even family. Oh, god, that’s it, isn’t it? I should have seen the resemblance. She’s your sister.” Her strained laugh has me wanting to finish the job I started. I hold my body completely still.

“Again, none of your business.” I smile.

“You know, I ought to warn you, seeing as she’s family. Elliot Grey is a player. He will get bored with her soon, anyway. She’s better off without him. In fact, I don’t know why he has stuck around her as long as he has. The only reason I can think of is that he’s knocked her up.”

With emotions running high and the way this woman has already pissed me off I have to fight every instinct to hurt her and that is when I must give my tell. Her eyes are the size of saucers but she has that grimacing, self-satisfied smile or someone whose every speculation has just come into being.

“Oh. My. God. She’s pregnant. Well, well, well…” I try to keep myself centred but everything I do or don’t do seems to trigger off another round of speculation in this bitch and right now she’s on a roll. I keep my eyes focused on the wall above her head, slightly glad that I don’t have something I can use as a weapon in my hand. I can’t believe that she’s my beautiful Mia’s flesh and blood. “But you said that there was a family emergency. For Mia… that means Elliot and… Kate… she’s miscarried?”

My eyes drop to look at her. Her eyes widen at the unspoken confirmation and I could kick myself for giving so much away, although I can’t for the life of me think how. I’m supposed to be the trained expert and yet without me saying a word this bitch has run through every logical connection and come up trumps. She’s so fucking scary she could be agency-trained.

Just as I am about to shut down any more of her creepy speculation she does the most unexpected thing. Her ass thumps down in the nearest seat and she sighs. A genuine heartfelt sigh.

“Oh, poor Kate.” It is barely a whisper and if her hand hadn’t sneaked to the corner of her eye, I would never have seen the tears welling there. She sits for a moment, wringing her hands on her lap before standing and walking toward me. For one awful moment I think that she is going to hug me but she simple stops and looks at me, utterly lost. “Mia said she was meeting a friend at a hotel. I honestly don’t know where or who. I gather from her call to her mother that she had no intention of going home to Bellevue tonight.”

Without another word, Elena walks back to the reception desk and picks up her pen effectively dismissing me.

---

I hurry out into the street and head towards our hotel. The rain is starting to fall and I am covered in a light dusting of drizzle when I let myself into the room. Mia is curled up on the bed asleep, her iPad lit up beside her. I close it down and strip off my wet clothes. After drying my hair off with a towel I slip into the bed and spoon her warm body.

“You’re cold.” She murmurs in her sleep. Her arm snakes back over her shoulder and she touches my head. “Your hair is wet.”

“Ssshhh, baby. Go back to sleep.” I kiss the soft skin of her neck, glad to be home. She smiles and purrs before her breathing changes and she places her hand over mine. Pushing down her body she guides my hand to her pussy and coaxes my fingers inside the slick folds. I oblige willingly. Her body squirms and writhes against mine stroking my cock in the delightful crevice of her ass.

Her face turns to mine so we can kiss, our tongues a wet tangle. Her lips,soft and full with sleep. A throaty groan enters my mouth. I feel her hand grip my hard cock and guide it home while I make good use of my hands. One teasing her firm little bud, the other fondling her heavy breasts.

Normally, this gentle loving would be enough to bring us both to a quick finish but not tonight. Tonight there is pent up frustration, tension and lust. Tonight there are memories of her heavy breathing as she watches a sub begging through a ball gag on the screen while her hair is being pulled. I slide my hand up to her face and she sucks hard on my finger as she pumps backwards on to my dick.

I roll and lift her on to her hands and knees, my cock slipping from her loving warmth. Her ass points at me and I bend to lick then bite the hot flesh. She cries out with my finger still in her mouth. Her hand reaches between her legs and starts to work her clit while I position my cock at her entrance. I simultaneously grab her hair and pull her head back while I thrust home. Her screaming gasp fills the air.

“Oh, god, Ethan. Yes, yes.” I fuck her hard, ramming my cock into her arching body. Our skin slaps and slides in a steady rhythm, her fingers working herself faster and faster underneath me. I grip her hip with my right hand, this time determinedly leaving an imprint. She is mine. The world will know she is mine. We both come hard with harsh cries, her first and then me as her pussy clamps down in spasms around me.

For hours afterward, we kiss and fondle and fuck. I lick and suck and bite every inch of her skin. Through this freshly fucked stupor, she knows what I am doing. She lets me. As if she needs it too. Her beautiful olive skin will be dotted with angry bruises tomorrow and she will be sore. Like a junky seeking a fix she encourages me to take more, give more, mark more. Every movement will remind her, and she will, with her unspoken defiance of this harsh reality we are living in, let the world know that she is spoken for. Always me, always mine.