It was the first day of the new year, the weather was god-awful, and Ford Roman was beyond grateful for his warm and comfortable house. And for the foresight he'd had to build not only a dungeon in the basement but an exercise room as well. He'd never been a fan of driving through the snow, but after that horrific accident that had taken the life of Jonas, he'd become even more careful. Jonas had been a submissive Ford had played with and the father of his mentee, Rhys. The loss had hit Rhys hard.
No, staying inside on a day like this was smart. He’d slept in—an anomaly since he always woke up at six sharp—but had still done his workout, a habit he rarely deviated from. He’d spent the rest of the day tidying up and cleaning. He needed to find a cleaning person. Or get himself a sub who loved serving him with household tasks. Those were rare, though, and they tended to want a more permanent relationship, something Ford was not interested in.
Now that he had all that household stuff out of the way and had made himself a quick dinner, the plan for the rest of the evening was to relax. If he still remembered how to do that. The fire roared, the coffee in his mug was steaming hot, and he even had some leftover Christmas cookies from the club's Christmas party he had attended.
They organized it every year for Daddies and their littles, and this year, it had been Ford’s turn to play Santa. It had been a riot. He might not be a Daddy Dom himself, but he loved watching the men with their littles. There was something so innocent, so pure about how these boys surrendered. Ford could imagine all too well how those Daddies must feel with the weight of that responsibility. Trusting someone like that was huge.
Then again, it wasn't for everyone. God knew he wouldn't settle down anytime soon. Not that he was adamantly against it, but he'd never seen the attraction. Being a Dom meant everything to him, and since he was self-employed, it was easy to combine his work with what he did in the club or at home. But he preferred working with multiple subs, since it provided way more variety. He was systematic and thorough in his approach, planning each session in great detail and always accounting for deviations from the plan, but he loved experimenting and trying new things.
No, as much as he loved seeing Rhys with his boy, Cornell—and Rhys as a Daddy Dom was a development he'd never seen coming—or his friend, Brendan, with that sweet kid, Raf, it was not for him. He was happy for them, but even at thirty-eight, he had no desire to settle down or develop a more serious relationship. He had the choice of plenty of subs, ones he’d played with before and newer members of the club, and that was exactly the way he liked it.
He sank lower in his chair. Outside, the heavy snow from earlier that day had become flurries. He’d have to clear the driveway again in the morning. Just before it had gotten dark, he’d already done a first round, fearing it would become too much to handle for his snowblower otherwise. But now it was time to sit and chill. What would it be tonight? A book? TV? He loved reading, but he hadn't watched a movie in ages, and he had a whole night off ahead of him. Right, a movie it was.
He was just browsing through the selection on Apple TV when his phone rang. He frowned. Who was calling him now? It had better not be the club, asking him to step in again. They’d had some issues lately with people not showing up for supervising shifts, and Ford had covered far too many of them. It was one reason he hadn’t had a night to himself in, like, forever. When he saw the name that popped up, he let out a curse. So much for his night off.
"Hey, Jon, what's up?" he said.
"Ford, I need your help."
Ford sighed deeply. "One of these days, you’re gonna call me and not need my help, right? Because I know you like me for more than the fact that I'm flexible and willing to step in, though lately, I’ve seen little proof of that."
"Ford, it's not that. I have a situation on my hand."
Ford's irritation evaporated. Jon’s tone had been grave, and Ford sat up straight. "Give me one second so I can switch my phone to my AirPods."
He connected his AirPods, then put down his phone and grabbed his mug of coffee so at least that wouldn't go cold. "What's up?" he asked.
"You remember Robin Kempton?"
"The detective, yes. Did something happen to him?"
"No, not to him, but he contacted me a few minutes ago with a request for my help. The cops were called in tonight to a private residence, where they discovered two young men living under abject conditions."
Ford listened with growing unease. Where was Jon going with this?
"They were subs, Ford. The exact details are unclear, but it appears they were living with their Master, and he abused them terribly. Robin says one of them managed to escape and call the cops, and their Dom got arrested."
"Oh god," Ford said, anger flaring up in him. He hated hearing about abusive Doms. They gave the community a bad reputation and inflicted horrible and often lasting trauma on their poor subs. "Is it anyone we know?"
"Robin wasn't at liberty to give me the name of the Dom, but he mentioned he'd seen the man only once before in the club, years ago. So he's not a frequent visitor or a member."
"Good," Ford said with force. "Otherwise, he would've had a challenge on his hands."
Jon was quiet for a second, and Ford frowned. Why had the owner of the club called him about this? If the Dom who’d gotten arrested was not a member, what did Jon need Ford for?
"Those two subs, they have nowhere to go. Robin says they have no family, and considering the condition they’re in, they can't stay on their own. They need someone to take care of them. If not, they’d be referred to a homeless shelter."
"Okay," Ford said slowly, and then it sunk in. "You mean me? You want them to stay with me?"
"They're still subs. Robin couldn't give me any details, but you know he's an experienced Dom. He says they exhibit classical submissive behavior."
"The question is whether that's natural submissive behavior or if it was conditioned through abuse."
"Fair enough, but that's not a distinction we can make without spending more time with them. So yes, Ford, I am asking you for help. I'm asking you to take these two subs into your home until we're sure they’re okay."
Ford whistled between his teeth. "That's a lot. I hate to be rude, but why me? I can't be the only Dom who would be suitable to take them in."
"Maybe, but you were the first one that came to mind, and not to kiss your ass, because we both know neither of us is into that, but you’re the best. You’re patient and kind, you have great people skills, you have the experience as a Dom with a wide variety of subs, and most of all, you're single. You're not in a relationship nor contracted to any submissives. That puts you at the very top of my list because you’ll be able to give them your undivided attention without having to fear jealousy from your other subs."
"What about Henry? He's ten years older than me and with way more experience," Ford said, but his stomach was sinking. He'd known Jon long enough to realize when the man had made up his mind, and this was clearly one of those times.
Jon made a dismissive sound. "He's got four dogs. Great Danes. You really want to bring two traumatized boys into a house with four dogs that size? God knows what those poor subs have been through."
Ford grudgingly admitted Jon had a point. He went through the list of Doms in his head, picturing every one of them while Jon patiently waited. Finally, Ford let out a deep sigh. "I hate it when you're right."
To his credit, Jon didn't make light of it. "I know, and I'm sorry to ask this of you because I realize it's almost impossible to say no, and you’ve already stepped in enough lately. But we have a responsibility here, even if they are not our subs. This is our community, and we take care of our own. There's no one else better suited for this than you."
Ford thought of his workload for the next few weeks, which was light, as it usually was this time of year. He was a renewable construction consultant, and not much construction was happening in New York in the dead of winter. He always had less work between December and March, and the work he had mainly focused on meetings he could do from home. And Jon was right. Ford didn't have any contracted submissives at the moment. He had some regulars, but none who should get in the way. But good lord, taking two boys into his home. It was a lot.
"I'll do it."
"Thank you," Jon said, relief palpable in his voice. "Robin can't give us a lot of details for legal reasons, but he hinted at the level of abuse these boys have endured. They’re traumatized, so prepare yourself for that. These are not normal submissives, which is another reason I wanted you. No one is better at adapting your methods to the needs of your subs."
Ford laughed. "Enough with the ass-kissing, boss. Like you said, neither of us is into that. Can you tell me their names and how old they are?"
"Yes." Paper rustled in the background. "The older one is called Thierry, and according to Robin, he's twenty-four. The other boy is Jathan, and he's two years younger."
Ford committed those names to memory. Thierry and Jathan. Okay. "And they’ve given permission to Robin to make this call? They’re okay with being dumped in the lap of another Dom, one they don't even know?"
Jon hesitated. "To be frank, the details are a little fuzzy there, but I'm sure that Robin can tell you more when you meet him at the police station."
Ford rolled his eyes. He'd walked straight into that one. Of course these boys wouldn’t be delivered to his home. That would be too easy. Dammit, he’d have to brave the snow after all. "Okay, text me the address, and I'll be on my way."
"Will do. Thank you, Ford. I won't forget this."
"I'll collect that massive favor you owe me now. Make no mistake," Ford said, then hung up.
His coffee had gotten lukewarm, but he drank it anyway. He’d need the caffeine because it seemed he still had a long evening ahead of him.