Safe Harbor

Chapter Nine

Clarisse made a pointed effort to get closer to Sully over the next few days. Mac told her Sully would leave early Friday morning, flying to California for a conference. As her bruises faded, she needed less makeup to hide them. She stepped into Sully’s office doorway on Thursday night, hesitant to interrupt him.

He offered her a soul-melting smile. “Hi, sweetie, come on in.

What’s up?”

She didn’t mind the endearments from either man. Maybe it made her weak to enjoy the warm fuzzies, but she didn’t care. She felt more welcomed with two practical strangers than she had in the years she spent with Bryan. She stepped forward, closer to him. “If I don’t see you before you leave tomorrow morning, I just wanted to say have a safe trip.” She took a deep breath. “I’ll miss you.”

He smiled. “I’ll miss you, too. You starting to feel a little more stable?”

“That’s an understatement.”

“When I get back, we can talk about the details of your arrangement. This weekend, let Mac spoil you. I know he’s planning on taking the boat out. I’d prefer you go with him. I don’t want you here alone.”

“I’ll be okay by myself.”

He leaned back in his chair. “I would prefer not to leave you alone right now.”

She felt herself falling into his grey gaze. “You’re worried Bryan might find me?”

“Let’s not take any chances. The longer we go without hearing anything from him, the better I’ll feel. If you don’t want to go out on the boat, Mac can stay here.”

A chance to be out on the Dilly again, alone with Mac?

“No, that’s okay. I’ll go.” She took a chance and leaned in, hugged him. “Thank you for everything, Sully. Really.”

He patted her on the back before releasing her. “It’s okay. I hope you aren’t planning on leaving any time soon.”

“No. Uncle Tad would spank me.”

He winked. “Maybe I would, too.”

She pondered his comment as she prepared for bed. She suspected Sully and Mac hadn’t shown her all the aspects of their relationship, most likely out of fear she’d run away, screaming and terrified. A few days ago, she would have agreed. Now she felt safe enough with them to know they were men of their word. Neither had acted even remotely improper with her, and the night she’d spent in their bed had been nothing but platonic.

Besides, they were, after all, gay. The fact that Uncle Tad felt secure with her arrangement went a long way to settling her mind.

The next morning when she got up at six, Mac was making coffee and Sully had already left. Mac flashed her a bright smile. “Ready to get back on the water, kiddo?”

“Yeah.” She took the offered mug. “When do we leave?”

“I figured we go see Tad, hit the store, then pull out around four, catch the tide.”

A thrill of excitement washed through her, the first time she’d felt it in…years.

Getting out on the boat.

By three o’clock, they unloaded gear and supplies at the dock.

When she stepped out of Mac’s truck, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Marina salt water, diesel fumes, bait.

Home. God how she’d missed it! She reached into the back of the truck to grab her duffel bag.

Mac touched her arm. “You’ll need these. Why don’t you go unlock the boat?”

Her Dilly keys dangled from his hand.

She smiled as she took them. “You’re giving them back?”

“They’re your keys.”

“It’s your boat.”

He laughed as he handed her the bag. “Technically, it’s Sully’s boat. But you’re part of the family, so to speak.”

They loaded and she fell into the familiar routine as if she’d never missed a trip. There were a few different boats in the marina and two of the covered slip sheds had been expanded. Other than that, not much had changed. She cast off the lines and stood watch as Mac deftly guided the boat out of the marina and down the channel.

Despite the warm afternoon, wind off the chilly Gulf soon forced her to don her hoodie. She stood next to Mac in the wheelhouse and watched the Gulf waters slip past. He hooked an arm around her shoulder.

“Feeling okay?”

She instinctively leaned in to his firm, warm body. “Yeah. Better than I have in a long time.”

She cooked them dinner while he set the autopilot and kept watch.

Not much had changed on the Dilly Dally in her absence other than newer electronics and a new autopilot.

She brought their plates to the wheelhouse and ate with Mac.

He smiled. “You look relaxed.”

“I am.” The sun dipped in the sky, painting the horizon in fiery reds and oranges. “I can almost forget.”

He didn’t break the silence for a while. “What are you thinking?”

The answer that popped out of her mouth surprised even her.

“What’s really in the other room? The one that’s locked?”

He choked on his soda and took a moment to regain his composure. He laughed. “You don’t waste words, do you?”

“No.”

He took another drink to buy him some time. “How much do you want to know?”

“How much should I know?” She indicated his neck, the padlocked collar. He’d changed it out before they left home, wearing the heavy silver necklace. Then after they pulled the Dilly out of the marina basin, Mac had put the leather collar back on. “It has to do with all of that, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. It does.” He turned to her. “You want the full and honest truth, or a bullshit euphemism?”

“The full and honest truth.”

“Sully and I are into BDSM. We have our own dungeon.”

She blinked. “Say again?”

Mac’s lips twisted into a wry smile. “We have our own dungeon.

Playroom. I like it when he ties me up and whips me.”

She sat back. He intently stared into her eyes, not letting her gaze wander. “Whips you?” she whispered, all strength in her voice gone.

“Yep. Like we told you, we’ll never ask you to participate in any of that.” He set his plate on the dash. “We do, however, sometimes host parties, have friends over who are also in the lifestyle. Play parties. I haven’t talked to Sully about that yet. We’re supposed to host one next weekend. I need to find out if he wants to cancel.”

Her mouth had gone dry. “You let him beat you? Why?”

“It’s complicated. I don’t expect you to understand.”

“But you’re bigger than him!”

“So?”

Her brain felt like it had short-circuited. Comfort drained from her soul.

He stood and took her empty plate. “Can you stand watch?” he asked. “I’ll go wash up.”

She numbly nodded.

When he returned to the wheelhouse twenty minutes later, she felt a little more stable. “So what’s in the room you didn’t want me to see?”

“You won’t let up, will you?”

“No.”

“I’ll be happy to show you when we get home, if you really want to see.”

“Why the lock?”

“We tell people it’s Sully’s private office. We don’t want people wandering in there who don’t belong. We do have vanilla friends who come over on occasion.”

“Jason and his wife?”

“Yep. He probably suspects Sully’s in charge in our relationship, but he doesn’t know everything.”

What trust she’d built for Sully slipped away like the boat’s wake.

Did she believe he would he hurt her? No. Had he taken care of Tad and been more than generous with her? Absolutely. Had he made her feel welcomed and safe? Definitely. Would she let him get any closer to her?

Probably not. Not if he was doing something like that to someone as sweet as Mac.

She turned away from Mac and stared out the front windows.

Tried to reconcile the warmth, affection, and security she’d felt while nestled in Sully’s arms with this new truth.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She wanted to keep her thoughts to herself. What Sully and Mac did in their private life was just that—private. She had no right to inject her opinions into their relationship. But throughout the evening, as he set their drag patterns into the GPS and they started their shrimp run, every time her eyes fell on Mac’s collar, she wanted to cringe.

Poor Mac.

What had Sully done to him to talk him into such a relationship?

Faced with the reality of their truth, she found it difficult to maintain the open-minded mindset she’d prided herself on.

She sorted shrimp in silence. At break time, she retreated to the bow cabin to lie down and rest. Unfortunately, her brain wouldn’t shut off.

Her thoughts drifted back to that first night. Despite her exhaustion and confusion and fear, she remembered her body’s reaction while watching the men.

Why did it feel different for her now knowing it was really Sully in charge and knowing what Mac let Sully to do him?

Knowing it was an irrational way to think didn’t make her any more able to change her mind.

Clarisse closed her eyes and tried to sleep.

Mac stared out at the dark water. No boat lights in sight, only the stars and moon. He’d screwed up and he knew it. He’d felt Clarisse’s emotional withdrawal after admitting what lay behind mysterious door number three.

He should have waited, let Sully handle it. No way he could have lied to her, even if he’d wanted to. Lying felt alien to him after his years with Sully.

He had enough shrimp on board to fulfill his obligation to the bait wholesaler at the dock. He baited a few lines and set the rods in holders on deck. Not much else to do, it kept his mind off the sick feeling permeating his gut that he might have driven Clarisse away from them.

Before dawn she emerged from the cabin. He forced a smile and fixed her a cup of coffee. “How’d you sleep?”

She sounded guarded. “Good.”

He couldn’t stand it any longer. “Can we talk about this?”

“About what?” From the way she ducked past him on her way to the wheelhouse, he knew his assessment was spot-on.

“What we talked about last night. I know it sounds weird, especially considering what you’ve been through. Believe me, what Master and I have together, it’s okay. I want it this way.”

“That’s between you two. I’m sorry I asked. It’s none of my business.”

From her tone, he knew better than to press her.

I’m sorry too. For being a dumbass and not waiting for Master to handle this.

Mac hated the cautious mask she wore all weekend. Fearing he’d do something else to scare her, he walked on eggshells around her. By the time they headed back to Tarpon on Sunday afternoon, he prayed that he hadn’t done irreparable damage to the trust he’d established with her.

She sat in the passenger seat and wore Sully’s sunglasses against the bright glare.

He couldn’t stand it any longer. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“For what?”

“Scaring you.”

Finally, she turned to look at him. He wished she’d take the sunglasses off so he could see her eyes. “You didn’t scare me, Mac.”

Her tone sounded measured. He clearly heard it in her voice, the way she weighed every word before speaking.

“You’ve pulled away from me, hon. Don’t deny it. I can feel it.”

“What you two have is private between you.” She picked at her fingernails. “I’ll get another job and save money so I can move out and get my own car once this mess with Bryan is sorted out. Then you guys can get back to normal without worrying about me.”

His heart dropped. He stepped over to her and gently grabbed her wrists. “Clarisse, you can’t leave us. Please.” His desperation reflected back to him in the sunglasses. She couldn’t leave. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—let her. He had to protect her.

The way he’d failed to protect Betsy.

“Mac, I’m cramping your lifestyle. You shouldn’t have to hide who you guys are because of me. It’s not fair to you.”

“Would you please promise to stay at least six months? See how it is between Master and me. You’ll understand better. You haven’t seen us together the way we normally are.”

“You can’t be together the way you normally are with me around.”

He released her wrists. She was right.

“You promise me at least six months, and Master and I will show you how we normally are. You’ll see it’s okay. Please?”

Clarisse stared at him, grateful for the minimal shield the dark sunglasses offered. Mac was so sweet, how could she stand watching Sully beat him?

Realistically, how would she take care of herself?

Six months. If she could tolerate years of Bryan’s verbal, mental, and emotional abuse, she could deal with six months of retreating to her room when the two men did whatever it was they did. It’s not like they’d be doing any of it to her.

Six months to get her shit together.

“Okay. Six months.”

He threw his arms around her and hugged her tightly to him. She wouldn’t deny that felt nice, comforting. More than a brother or friend.

Clarisse sat back, not wanting to follow that mental trail.

“Thank you, sweetie,” he said. “You won’t regret it. You’ll see, at the end of six months you’ll feel like part of the family. You won’t want to leave.

That’s what I’m afraid of.

Sully closed his eyes and let his mind drift as the car drove him home from the airport. His leg hurt like a son of a bitch. He hadn’t taken his cane or his heavier pain meds with him, not needing either in months, but the weekend had been long and exhausting with a lot more time spent on his feet than expected.

He rubbed his hand over his left thigh, just above his knee, and tried to massage the ache. He couldn’t wait to get home, fall into bed, and let Mac work over his muscles with his talented hands.

He wondered how the weekend had gone for Clarisse. He hadn’t called, knowing with them out on the boat that Mac’s cell probably would be out of range anyway. If there’d been any emergencies, Mac would have used the satellite phone to call him, even from the water.

As his leg throbbed, he tried to distract himself with other thoughts. By the time the car dropped him at home a little after midnight, he felt nearly sick from the pain. He pulled himself up the stairs and left his bags inside the front door for Mac to take care of in the morning.

He rummaged through the kitchen cabinet for the bottle of OxyContin, relieved to see he still had eight left. He took one, swallowing it with a glass of water.

“Master?” Mac stood in the kitchen doorway, naked except for his collar. When he spotted the bottle of pain pills on the counter, his face turned worried. “Are you okay?”

Sully shook his head. “A lot of pain. Help me to bed, please.”

Mac swooped in, slipping his arm around Sully’s waist, draping Sully’s arm around his shoulders. He carefully helped him limp into their room and gently lowered him to their bed. He knelt in front of him and removed Sully’s shoes.

“How long have you been hurting?”

“I woke up this morning and limped into the shower, stood there until I could walk again. I’ve been eating Tylenol all day. I haven’t hurt this bad in months.”

“Lie down.”

Sully did. Mac helped him slide his slacks off, then retrieved a tube of ointment from the bathroom. He worked it into Sully’s left leg, his fingers knowing exactly what muscles to focus on, where to press, where to rub.

Sully grunted both in pain and relief as Mac’s attention, in combination with the drugs, started to relieve the worst of the pain.

“Is that helping, Master?”

Sully’s eyes closed. “Yeah. Don’t stop.”

Mac worked on his leg for nearly half an hour. Sully unbuttoned his shirt as he lay there with his eyes closed and tried to hold on until the pain diminished enough for him to move again.

“You need to take it easy this week, Master. Should I call the doctor?”

“No. He’ll want to put me back in physical therapy. I overdid it and didn’t take my cane. I’ve spent too much time sitting at my desk instead of working out.” He cracked open an eyelid. “How’s Clarisse?”

Mac’s hands hesitated for a moment. “She’s okay.”

He propped himself on his elbows despite the pain it caused.

“Slave.”

Mac sighed and related the conversation. Sully lowered himself to the bed, silently swearing. He hadn’t left Mac with any explicit instructions, hadn’t considered them necessary. He wouldn’t punish him for telling her the truth, but he suspected what little trust Clarisse had gained in him sailed overboard at the revelation.

“Master?”

“It’s okay. You did the right thing to tell her the truth.”

“Why doesn’t it feel okay?”

“It’s okay.” Mac lifted Sully’s leg, helping him flex at the hip and knee. “That really helped, thank you.”

Mac helped him sit and remove his shirt. “Do you want the heating pad?”

“Might not be a bad idea.” The drugs started to take hold in his system. He hated using them, but under the circumstances, he’d make an exception.

Mac got him situated, propped himself with a few pillows to read, and tucked his body against Sully’s to hold Sully in a comfortable position. Sully knew Mac would stay up, waiting until after he’d fallen asleep so he could put away the heating pad to prevent him from getting burned.

As Sully drifted into sleep, he realized he’d forgotten to go through their usual greeting routine, the pain taking precedent. He drowsily reached back and patted Mac’s thigh. “Thank you, Brant.”

Mac kissed his forehead. “You’re always welcome, Master.”