Free Cardinal's Rule by Tymber Dalton

never seen literal homicidal rage in real life until that moment. As Bob jumped up from the couch, sending her tumbling out of his lap, she realized he’d been deadly serious about getting violent with Cristo. He had the deadbolt open and flew out the door before she even managed to untangle her own legs and climb off the couch.
    By the time she reached the front door, Bob was down the walk and standing behind Cris, who
    still sat waiting for Landry.
    “Hey, asshole. Stand up.”
    She swore as she raced down the walk.
    Cris turned to look up at him with…
    Resignation?
    That’s when her worry changed from hoping Bob didn’t get his ass kicked to praying Bob
    didn’t kill Cris. Where the fuck was Landry? He was late.
    “I said stand up, asshole.”
    She watched Cris look at the pendant before he slipped it inside the pocket of his jeans. Then he slowly climbed to his feet. He looked like he was already in pain from the beating she’d given him.
    She grabbed Bob’s arm. “Bob, please, it’s okay. Let’s go inside.”
    “No, it’s not okay, Tilly. I finally get a chance to make you happy and this fucker walks back into your life the next goddamned day ?” He gently shook her off. “I don’t know what the fuck you did to her, and frankly, it’s none of my business unless she wants to tell me, but you fucking hurt her.”
    She grabbed his arm again. “ Please , Bob, let’s go inside. He’s not worth it.”
    He started to argue with her when Landry’s car pulled in. Oh thank you, Christ!
    “Who’s that?” Bob asked.
    “That’s his Master. Come on, let’s go inside.”
    Landry shut the car off and took his sweet time getting out. “How did our training session go? I hope he’s got a lot more bruises than I left him with.” He looked at Bob. “Are you by any chance about to kick his ass?”
    “Yeah, actually, I was just about to do that.”
    Tilly wouldn’t let go of Bob. “Landry, please ! Take him and get the fuck out of here!”
    Landry laughed and leaned against the hood of his car. He crossed his arms in front of him.
    “Actually, if slave has another ass-kicking coming to him, I’d really like to watch. I’ll even hold him down for you, if you’d like.”
    “Landry!”
    “I don’t need him held down,” Bob assured him.
    Tilly wished she’d kept the damn stun gun on her belt. She forced herself in front of Bob and scruffed the back of his neck, pulling his head down so she could look into his eyes, the way she often did when he wore her collar.
    “ Please ,” she whispered, “don’t do this. He’s not worth it and someone will call the police. I could be in a lot of trouble if that happens.”
    As she’d hoped, that took the fight out of him. He still glared at Cris. “If I ever run into you again, I will kick your fucking ass,” he growled.
    Landry slapped the hood of his car. “Goddammit! I really wanted a show. I can give you our
    hotel address if you want, and you can come kick his ass later.”
    Bob looked startled. “What?”
    “Seriously.” He grabbed a pen out of the car and jotted information on a business card, then started to hand it to Bob.
    Tilly snatched it from Landry’s hand and jammed it in her pocket. “Get out of here before I do call the cops.”
    He sighed. “Party pooper. I’ll be calling you to discuss my offer, Mistress Cardinal. I was
    serious.” He looked at Cris. “Well, what are you waiting for, slave? Get in the fucking car unless you want to walk back to the hotel.”
    During the whole incident, Cris stood there without speaking or making any attempt to protect himself or run away. Tilly watched Cris bow his head and silently walk to the car and get in.
    She despised that a tiny part of her deep inside her heart didn’t want to see him to go and hated to see him looking like a beat dog.
    * * * *
    It took her nearly twenty minutes to calm Bob. He vacillated between apologetic for blowing
    his cool and enraged that he didn’t take a swing