Ten minutes later, he heard a low gasp and turned. Cris knelt in front of a bottom shelf in the corner, not the most convenient place for books because of where it was situated and that a chair blocked easy access to it. His finger trailed along several spines as he examined the titles.
“What is it?” Landry snapped at him.
Cris didn’t look at him. “They’re mine,” he softly said. “I left them all when I…” He finally turned to Landry. “I didn’t take them with me. They were some of my favorites. She kept them. These three shelves here were all my books.”
“Hmph.” Landry returned to his email, but inside he felt a little satisfaction. She couldn’t get rid of his books.
That gave him hope that one day maybe she could forgive Cris and open her heart to him again.
Around two, he loaded Cris in the car. They drove to a nearby Walmart. Cris silently followed him, pushing the cart as Landry found candles and other assorted items he wanted for that night.
Cris didn’t want to contemplate why Landry bought them. He suspected they weren’t for his benefit.
When they returned to the house, Landry ordered him to put the things in the master bedroom, on the bed, then to go get his own shower and shave and wait for him in the living room.
He did as ordered. On his way back to his room, he paused in the living room. In the corner containing a massive entertainment center, he studied her CD and DVD collection. He found ones that had belonged to him, but either put on the highest shelf where she wouldn’t normally reach them, or tucked away low and in the back where it would be inconvenient to store them if they were frequently accessed.
When he returned to his room, he couldn’t help but stop by the office again. As far as he could tell, she’d kept all his books. Ones that had been his alone and not hers were crammed on the inconvenient shelves in the far corner. But books they’d bought together and both enjoyed, she still had those, too.
He wanted to talk to her, to apologize again, hopefully without her trying to take his nuts off in the process. He knew he could never make it up to her, but he wanted her to understand why he’d done what he did.
He couldn’t let Landry die.
Cris tried not to think while he took his shower and dressed. He waited as directed in the living room. A little before six, Landry emerged from the bedroom. Cris’ heart thumped in his chest when he saw the way he was dressed.
The man looked damn good, especially in the tailored suit. Cris wondered when he’d bought it.
“How do I look?” he asked as he turned. “You may answer.”
“Very handsome, Master.” No lie. He wanted to drop to his feet and cling to him, beg him to forgive him and let them move forward. The loneliness he’d felt since the revelation ate at him.
Landry smiled. “Tilly picked out the tie.”
Cris didn’t know if he was expected to reply to that, so he kept his mouth shut.
“I will remind you that, no matter what, you do not speak unless I give you permission to do so.”
Cris nodded.
“Go get the toy bag. I want you to put on your locking wrist cuffs, the black leather ones, not the suspension ones. I want a double-ended clip and the braided leather leash to take with us. Lay out the coil of blue rope on the bed, along with your ankle cuffs and the big ball gag.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder, indicating the master bedroom. “On that bed in there. Do it fast.”
Cris’ heart hammered as he went to comply. When he carried the items into the bedroom, he spotted how Landry had arranged the unlit candles. The fresh flowers had been transferred to vases full of water.
It looked romantic.
He suspected those weren’t for his sake. He had an even stronger feeling that the rope and other accoutrements were.
Promptly at six-thirty, he heard a car in the driveway. The doorbell rang a moment later. He went to answer as Landry walked up behind him. A limo driver stood there. “Mr. LaCroux?”
“Yes,” Landry said. “We’ll be right there.” He grabbed his keys, turned off the lights, and locked the door behind them. Cris carried the leash and clip as ordered.
The driver held the door for them. Landry climbed in first then pointed to one of the side-facing seats. “You, there,” he told Cris.
He complied.
Landry sat back and then patted his pocket. “Wouldn’t want to forget.”
Cris didn’t ask what.
“Remember, no talking tonight.”
Cris nodded.
Landry smiled. “That’s my good boy.”
Chapter Eleven
Cris felt hope mix with his fear.
That’s my good boy.
If Landry still wanted him, he would tough out whatever punishment was headed his way. He had no doubts that whatever his Master had in mind was a doozie in terms of retribution.
He recognized they were heading to the club. Cris tried to beat back his anxiety. He would do whatever Landry asked of him, except hurt Tilly again. He’d hurt her enough already. She’d deserved better than he gave her, no arguments there.
When the limo pulled up to the club, Landry’s face hardened as he leaned forward. “Remember, no talking. If you don’t like what happens tonight, you can leave and I’ll put you on a plane back to California. You get no say in the matter.”
Cris nodded.
Landry motioned him over, snapped the leash to his collar, and used the other clip to secure his wrist cuffs together. Cris had a feeling this wasn’t the worst torment he’d endure tonight, even though it’d been several years since Landry had put him on a leash in public for punishment.
He despised the leash and the humiliation it brought him.
When the driver opened the back door, Landry exited first. Cris followed close behind when
Landry jerked on the leash. He cringed when Ross met them in the club’s lobby. No one else was there, although the many cars in the parking lot indicated more people were inside the dungeon already.
Ross greeted Landry with a friendly smile and a handshake and totally ignored Cris. He waited, head bowed, while the two men talked. After a few minutes, Landry’s sharp voice and a snap of the leash caught Cris’ attention.
“Slave!”
Cris stepped closer, keeping his eyes on the floor.
“Ross has something he wants to say to you, slave,” Landry said. “Look at him when he talks to you.”
Cris forced his gaze up. The man he used to consider his best friend wore a murderous look.
“You fucking son of a bitch,” he growled. “Losing you nearly killed her. Tilly won’t let me castrate you, but Landry said I can do this.” He punched Cris square in the gut, doubling him over in pain.
Landry stood there, smiling, his arms crossed. “You should have heard his better revenge fantasies involving a propane torch,” Landry teased. “Unfortunately, my sweet Tilly is a spoil-sport.
Lucky for you, she’s forbidden castration and maiming.”
Cris struggled to catch his breath and finally did, coughing, his restrained hands on his knees as he stayed doubled over for another moment to recover. Even through his pain he didn’t miss the possessive term Landry used to describe Tilly.
“I would let him answer for himself, Ross,” Landry continued, “but I’ve forbid him to speak without my permission tonight. That will have to wait for another time.” He slapped Cris on the shoulder. “You did very well, I must say. I expected at least a cry of pain or a swear word, but you remained silent.”
His eyes on the floor again, Cris nodded after he straightened, praying Landry wouldn’t let Ross take another swipe at him.