A delayed realization dumped guilt on Ben’s shoulders. If she hadn’t taken Joey back, then…one of those blows could have come from him. What the fuck had he done?
“And Cullen said…” Jessica pressed her hand to her mouth, tears in her eyes. “That’s not fair; she’s had too much.”
“Shhh, little one.” Z lifted his wife and daughter into his lap, pulling them close.
“What did Cullen say?” Ben asked.
Z shook his head. “Cullen apparently thought the same thing you did, that she’d left you for Joey. He was angry on your behalf.”
“Jesus, I don’t need help.” Had Cullen come down on her when she was hurting and pissed off? “Is that where she is? In jail for leaving bloody chunks of a dick-headed, dumbass Master all over the bar top?”
“Benjamin.” Z’s voice was dry. “Before Anne returns, you might work on the respectful language considered appropriate for a submissive.”
As long as she returned, he might do that.
Z stroked Jessica’s hair. “I wish Anne had reacted with violence. Instead, she quit.”
“Quit what?”
The lines beside Z’s mouth deepened. “She terminated her membership. And, yes, I’ve tried to reach her with no success.”
She quit the Shadowlands? The sinking feeling in Ben’s chest was new, as if his heart had bottomed out. What the fuck was she thinking, cutting every tie she had? Was she crazy?
No, but she had a hell of a temper when she actually let it loose.
She’d worked her ass off to be an outstanding fugitive recovery agent and Mistress. To have everything she’d built questioned by idiots like her uncles and father. And Cullen. Hell, he couldn’t blame her for blowing her stack.
Travis said she tended to retreat when wounded. But she wouldn’t stay away from her family and friends. Not long. “She’ll be back to her friends—and the Shadowlands—when she’s ready. Anne doesn’t lack courage.”
If she was all right.
She had to be all right. “When she returns…” Ben hesitated. “Z, I’ve seen you step in when things get fucked up. Will you help out?”
“No,” Z said gravely.
Both Ben and Jessica stared at him.
“Benjamin, you have all the talent and determination required to see this through. Whether you two part ways or not, I know you’ll support her until she’s steady again.” Z’s smile was fleeting. “Whether she wants you to or not.”
“She won’t,” Ben muttered. But, dammit, if she needed help, he’d see she got it. And she’d take that help, like it or not.
Although, it’d be easier on him to simply kill everyone who’d hurt her. He’d start with her cousin. Meantime, he had to find her. “I’m going to have Ghost take over the desk this weekend. Okay with you?”
Z nodded. “Of course.”
Ben finished off his beer and rose. “Sorry to have cut into your evening, Jessica. I’ll get out of your way now.”
“I’m glad you came by,” she said. “I’ll talk to the other Shadowkittens and try to give you some ideas.”
“Thanks.” As he let himself out, he saw her turn and bury her head against Z’s chest.
Anne had done that too, taken comfort from Ben. Had made him feel needed and powerful, as if he could keep the world from harming his woman.
Fuck, he missed her.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“You’ll get calls from them, Joey,” Anne said into her house phone. The two Dommes she’d spoken with earlier were sadists. And both were open to taking on a new slave.
“Thank you so much, Mistress Anne.” He was so thrilled he sounded almost breathless.
“You’re very welcome. You take care—”
“Are you going to be at the Shadowlands tonight?” he asked before she could say good-bye. “It’s Saturday. And you weren’t there last night.”
Actually, she’d planned to be home last night, but the small matter of the SUV’s cracked radiator had kept her in St. Augustine an extra day.
Not that she’d have gone to the club anyway. She wasn’t a member any longer. “No, I’m planning a nice, quiet evening at home. I’ll sit on the deck and watch the storm coming in.”
“Ugh,” he said.
She smiled, imagining his shiver. He hated storms. If he were smart, he wouldn’t share that information with a new sadistic Mistress. “Good night, Joey.”
Anne set the phone down and frowned at the blinking message machine. She had a myriad of calls.