Seduced in the Dark (21 page)

“
Look, Sloan…”

“
Leave Sloan for the office, Matthew,”
she said with a smile.

“
Fine. What the hell do you want, Janice?
You want to tell everyone you saw me here? That I’m a freak? Go
ahead. I don’t give a fuck,” he said. He whispered the words, half
angry, half nervous. He didn’t know what he’d do if she decided to
tell people about him.

He was still worried about that. The things
he’d let her do! The way he’d begged her not to stop. He shook his
head, trying to clear the memories, but it wasn’t working, not when
he was still so sore and her smell still lingered in his
sheets.

“
You’re not a Dom.” Janice shook her
head, “I didn’t think so. I mean, you could be, you’re so strong,
so masculine and in control. But that’s the problem. Isn’t it,
Matthew? It’s a lot of work to be in control all the time.” She
raised her delicate hand and twirled her fingers in the hair at
Matthew’s nape. It was an intimate act, full of
implications.

Ah, yes. The fucking psycho-babble. Olivia
had had it right: Sloan couldn’t help herself. She looked right
into people and started tearing them apart. No matter that it hurt.
No matter that she wasn’t invited to do it. All night, she’d done
it to him, poked and poked and poked until he’d given it up.

Janice’s other hand grabbed Matthew’s thigh
and gently prodded. Matthew swallowed hesitantly, but then he let
Janice in and she stepped between his spread thighs as if she just
belonged there. “I wouldn’t tell anyone your secrets, Matthew. I
keep a lot of secrets; it’s my job. If you tell me to leave you
alone, I will. It’s just…I want you.”

“
Why?” Matthew croaked.

Janice smiled against his ear and chuckled
softly, “Because I couldn’t possibly think of anything I’d enjoy
more, than your sexy ass over my knee.”

It was definitely sexy. Matthew had never
come so hard, never begged so much. He’d tried to be defiant, not
caring for Sloan’s invasive questions. But in the end, he wanted to
come so badly, he’d have done anything, said anything. Sloan made
sure to take advantage. She’d pulled confessions out of him that
made him so ashamed he could barely breathe. She’d been
ruthless.

Her hand followed along the path of his
thigh and turned inward to cup his balls. Matthew jumped, startled,
but his hands stayed gripped to the barstool. Janice’s fingernails
scratched him through his jeans and he couldn’t suppress the
helpless sound that came out of him.

He couldn’t face her, not today, not ever.
She knew him too well now. He’d told her things he’d never told
anyone.

“
Okay,” he whispered.

“
Okay?” she purred against his ear, her
fingers alternately caressing and scratching.

She’d been so reassuring, stroking his hair
and telling him it was okay, there was nothing wrong with him.

Matthew nodded, his eyes closed. Already, it
was difficult not to come, right there in his jeans like a school
kid having his dick touched by the head cheerleader.

“
You won’t tell?” he pleaded
softly.

Janice gripped the hair at the nape of his
neck with enough force to make his eyes sting, “No, Matthew. I
won’t tell anyone. Now get the fuck off this barstool and let’s get
out of here.”

Last night it had been glorious and
liberating. It had been a light to the darkness in his soul, but
today…today it was all he could do not to call in sick and lie in
bed and hide.

Matthew finally rolled over and let the pain
have him. He closed his eyes and moved his body along the sheets,
testing all of his muscles. His shoulders hurt quite a bit and his
neck was stiff, but mostly it was his ass. His ass felt bruised all
the way to the bone and he knew even after his hot shower the pain
would remain. He’d think about Sloan all day, all night, and every
time he sat down until the pain went away. And suddenly, it was his
pride that hurt the most.

He slowly opened his eyes. He was supposed
to go back to the hospital first thing this morning and get the
rest of Olivia’s statement. He wondered if Sloan would be there and
his stomach hurt. No. He couldn’t see Sloan. Ever. He couldn’t
stand the idea of facing her and encountering her smug face. And
really, who wouldn’t be smug?

Matthew was a notorious jerk. He knew plenty
of people who would pay to hear about him being brought so low.
Well, he wouldn’t give Sloan the satisfaction of getting to him
again. All he had to do was avoid her. It was the coward’s way out,
but Matthew figured he could be a coward every now and again. He
wouldn’t let it affect his case.

With a loud sigh of resignation, Matthew
rolled out of bed on unsteady legs and fumbled toward the table for
balance and his phone. There was a note:

Dear Matthew,

Thank you. You were better than I dreamed.
Difficult to leave you, but I know you need your space. I’ll be at
the hospital in the morning, stop by if you want, otherwise, I’ll
be sure to give you time in the afternoon to do your job. Of
course, I hope I’ll see you.

Agreement stands, my lips are sealed.

Jani

“Fuck,” Matthew sighed. Even in a note, he
could sense how obviously smug she was about last night. If he
didn’t show up, then he was a coward. If he did, then he was trying
to prove something. It was a catch-22. Angrily, he reached for his
phone and fired off a text:

Reed: Intel @ office. Busy til lunch. Pls
rcrd interview.

He figured his text was vague and yet
succinct enough. He hoped she would get the hint and not discuss
last night. It was better if they stuck to the work. The case would
be over soon and the both of them would be reassigned. With any
luck, he’d have no reason to see her again. All he had to do was
make it through the next few days. Less, if he could get Livvie to
talk. It was all the motivation he needed.

Matthew took a long, hot shower. It helped
loosen his aching muscles. The damage was fairly miniscule, only a
few bruises and welts on his ass. It was a relief to know he had no
marks on him that would be visible when he was dressed.

He stopped for coffee on the way to work. He
didn’t want to stand around the pot at the office. The officers
sometimes tried to engage him in conversation and Matthew just
wasn’t in the mood. He walked in quietly, nodding in greeting to
the desk sergeant and taking the elevator in silence to the chagrin
of the building janitor who rode with him.

“This is Agent Reed.” Matthew set his
briefcase next to his desk and his coffee next to his keyboard
before he turned to acknowledge the officer’s presence.

“Yes?”

“Message came for you late last night. The
desk sergeant brought it up this morning,” the young man handed the
message to Matthew and walked away.

“Thanks,” Matthew muttered toward the man’s
back and looked down at the message. The agent from the FIA had
called. Matthew looked at his watch and hoped their offices were
still open. He was cutting it close.

He rolled out his chair and picked up his
phone to dial the long number. “Hello? Staff Sergeant Patel,
please.” He waited for a few minutes while they tracked the man
down; relieved he’d called in time.

“Staff Sergeant Patel, speaking.”

“Matthew Reed, FBI,” he said quickly. “You
left a message for me. What did you find out?”

There was a deep sigh on the other end of
the phone, “We looked into private planes with scheduled arrivals
in the next three days.” He hesitated, “You were right. There seems
to be a lot more activity than usual. No information yet on Demitri
Balk or Vladek Rostrovich, but we don’t have all the passenger
manifests yet.”

“Can you send me a list of all the
information you have available? I’d like to look through it if you
don’t mind.”

“We do mind, Agent Reed. If there is
something going on, then it falls within our purview and our office
can handle it. Is there any other information you would like to
share with us?”

Matthew ground his teeth hard enough to make
his head hurt. He wasn’t in the mood for the bureaucratic games.
“I’m willing to share information so long as we are coordinating.
For that to be the case, information has to flow both ways. Time is
limited, Staff Sergeant. Neither of us has time for a pissing
contest.”

“You Americans and your colorful slang,”
Patel said. “No one is ‘pissing’ on anything, Agent Reed, but I’m
sure you can see the political implications of this? The world’s
eyes are on Pakistan right now and we need to know the situation
can be handled discreetly and without embarrassing either
country.”

“If you won’t share information, I’ll have
to contact my superiors and have them reach out to your government.
It could take days and by then, the slave auction could be over,”
Matthew said.

“I understand you have a job to do, Agent
Reed. I do as well. I will continue to gather information on the
private aircraft, passenger lists, arrival times and scheduled
departures, etcetera. In the meantime, I suggest you get in contact
with your superiors. I will do the same and perhaps we can come to
a mutually beneficial agreement?”

“Fine,” Matthew growled into the
receiver.

“Until tomorrow,” SSgt Patel replied
coolly.

“You can bet on it,” Matthew repeated and
waited until the line went dead before he placed the handset back
onto its cradle. He was careful not to slam it. He didn’t need the
attention.

He had a few hours before Sloan finished
with Olivia, so he decided to dig out his research on Demitri Balk.
If Rafiq and Caleb were set on getting to the elusive billionaire,
then Matthew would have to do the same. He was hesitant to get too
close to the man through traditional channels. He didn’t want him
spooked. He might decide to stay clear of the auction and then
Matthew wouldn’t be able to use him as bait.

Demitri Balk didn’t have much of an identity
until the mid-90’s. Balk Diamond’s had appeared seemingly overnight
with a long list of prominent investors that catapulted the price
of the stock within minutes of it becoming public. Demitri Balk had
been the primary share holder and was listed as the CEO of the
company.

The large conglomerate was primarily
billeted as a jewelry company, but was also supported by a myriad
of other businesses. The company had its share of controversy
surrounding it. More than one story claiming Balk Diamond’s were
mined in Africa could be found by doing a cursory search, but
ultimately no formal investigation by any government had been
conducted.

Blood diamonds were highly contentious, but
no one had been able to directly link Balk Diamond’s and any of the
mines in Africa, probably due to the web of companies and
subsidiaries associated with them. One of the subsidiaries caught
Matthew’s attention. AKRAAN was established in Russia and dealt in
weapon’s manufacturing and sales. More research revealed AKRAAN had
been part of Balk Diamond’s when it first went public, meaning the
CEO would have direct knowledge of it.

Matthew wasn’t surprised to see a diamond
company involved in weapons. However, what was surprising was the
weapons company existed first, as early as the 1960’s. The
manufacturer, run by the government, sold weapons to several
countries, most notably Iraq and Pakistan.

How did Demitri Balk come to run both
companies? As CEO, no less?

Demitri was described by
Forbes
Magazine
as a ‘self-made billionaire with humble roots in
soviet Russia’.

Matthew scoffed, “Humble, my ass.” He winced
at his own words, remembering the very real way his ass had been
humbled the night before. Sitting was definitely a chore. He tried
not to fidget.

Finally, inspiration struck and Matthew made
a call to his home office. After a brief conversation with his
boss, the man had finally relented and agreed to give Matthew all
the resources he would need to put his case together. He also
agreed to start cutting away at the red tape between Matthew and
the FIA.

Within the hour, two techs were running
every picture and story associated with Balk Diamond’s, AKRAAN,
Demitri Balk, Vladek Rostrovich, and Muhammad Rafiq through facial
recognition software and the National Security Database. Matthew
predicted something would show up sooner rather than later.

He looked at his watch. He should probably
get to the hospital. He called the nurse’s desk on Olivia’s floor
to make sure Sloan had left for the day and then he gathered his
belongings and headed for the door.

***

Olivia was furiously writing when Matthew
walked in. She seemed in better spirits than the night before.
Matthew gave Sloan credit.

“What are you writing?” Matthew asked. He
put down his briefcase and took a seat. The chair was far more
comfortable than the one in the recreation room. Also, sitting in
her hospital room had the added benefit of making her more
talkative.

“Dr. Sloan gave me a journal. Pretty sweet,
huh? It’s been so long since I’ve written anything, I almost forgot
how much I love it,” Olivia said. She smiled.

“Not what I asked, Miss Ruiz,” Matthew
replied, but there was no bite in his words.

She sighed, “I’m…you know. I just want to
preserve my memories before I stop trusting them.”

Matthew really didn’t know what to say,
except, “That could get subpoenaed, you know?”

She looked stricken, dropping her pen with a
rattle. “Seriously? Why would you do that?”

“Never mind,” he said easily, “forget I said
anything.”

She looked at him, then down at her notebook
and up at him again before she raised a suspicious brow and snapped
the journal shut. “I don’t forget anything you say, Reed. Only an
idiot would.”