Mad Dog Maddox

by Louise Collins

  Maddox’s home, as well as his tattooed body was a shrine to Beethoven. The diamond was the key piece of his obsession and he needed it back. There were three in total. One in Berlin, one in New York and one in London. All were held in musical museums, all were owned by Maddox.

  Beethoven’s diamonds. They were made from a stand of his hair, part of his idol forever encased in glittering beauty. He didn’t steal them or blackmail to own them, it was very old-fashioned for a man considered as fierce as he, but he'd bought them with his own money. Not worth millions, but priceless to him and Ian had tried to take one from him. Ian who had clearly been tasked to steal it by a fool. Richie Black.

  Maddox flung himself back and sunk into his sofa. The leather depressed in time with his slow exhale and he stared at the blinding white ceiling. He toed his shoes off, unhooked his suit jacket's buttons and removed his gun from its holster. His top pocket drew his attention and he slipped the zippo out. He had planned on smoking one of his pristine collection, a job well done needed the finest tobacco, but he hadn’t completed the job. No fat cigar to puff at and stain the ceiling grey. He knew he wouldn’t be sleeping all night, knew he’d await the phone call from friend or foe.

  Instead he flicked the lighter, twirled the rectangle in his grip and snapped it shut. Such a small motion, and a pleasurable sound that accompanied it. There weren’t many sounds Maddox enjoyed, but the ones he did sunk him into a trance, the most obvious being Beethoven, but there was the click and snap of his lighter, the patter of rain and the vibrating rumble of thunder. The list of irritating noises was endless, the smacking of lips, sniffing, throat clearing, all noises that made Maddox want to throttle necks. People in general, Maddox disliked the sound of them, he revelled in the silence.

  The dreaded call didn’t happen. Richie hadn’t got his hands on the diamond; word must’ve reached him that Ian was dead, and any lingering worry that another of Richie’s subordinates had accompanied the traitor vanished with each hour that past. If Richie had it, he would’ve bragged about it immediately.

  Someone else had got involved in their war, and Maddox smirked wickedly at the interesting change of pace. He lit the flame of the zippo, staring at the flicking orange before snapping shut. He twisted, feet flat on the floor and back to the sofa. A huge painting of Beethoven hung opposite, and he saluted with a bob of his head. He would get the diamond back, even if it meant wiping out Richie and all the idiots that chose to follow him.

  The call came at six in the morning.

  Tom’s voice no longer pitched with worry, but boomed with confidence.

  “We got him, his name's Jake.”

  Maddox bobbed his head even though Tom couldn’t see and followed the motion with one word. “Good.”

  He hung up and got to his feet. Richie was empty-handed. The mystery had come to its end and Maddox couldn’t help but shudder as boredom set in. Sure, he would get the diamond back, but the excitement of something out of the ordinary happening would be lost in an instant.

  He sighed slowly, pacing the length of his house and pushing through the front door. He didn’t change his funeral suit, but smartened himself instead. He re-buttoned with care, and flattened the material with his sweeping hands. The zippo was back in its rightful place, as was his gun. He patted the solid weight finding its presence soothing. On his return, he would be able to smoke the cigar until it burned his fingers.

  A car waited for him and he slipped into the back, wondering about the identity of Ian’s accomplice. The most logical explanation was another of Richie’s men had assisted, but had he gone rogue and run from his master as well as Maddox?

  Jake, Tom had said. Maddox texted him for more information. He needed to know where they had found the thief.

  The warehouse they used for these occasions wasn’t too far away. Not long enough for Beethoven’s symphony to be played in full. Instead Maddox relished in the near silence. The engine rumbled beneath him, cars swished past the window; it was the backing track to most of his life and he had a talent at sinking to a state of near comatose.

  The driver however, was not gifted with this innate ability. His breaths puffed noisily, there was a whistle from a nostril, and he swallowed loudly in excessive amounts.

  “Open your window.”

  The man startled to attention, fixing his shocked eyes on the rear-view mirror.

  “Open you window now.” Maddox said, fixing his eyes on the mirror.

  The driver opened the window just as Maddox commanded and the rush of the outside bustle swallowed the man’s bodily noises.

  “Thank you, Lewis.”

  Lewis bowed and avoided glancing in the mirror again. He was new, and nervous about being alone with Maddox. Ian’s demise had spread fear amongst his own men, and no doubt they were all edgy after the ruthless killing of one of their own. Fear was needed to keep them in check.

  The warehouse appeared on Maddox’s left, and he patted Lewis on the shoulder before he exited the car. He darted a look back; Lewis had sagged in his chair with his eyes closed, apparently relieved to be still alive.

  Maddox didn’t burst into the room, but listened for a few minutes to the commotion on the other side of the door. Amber, Tom and Carl's bickering seeped through the gaps and Maddox grinned at the sparring adults. They were cold and collected in his presence but when they were unaware he listened, they argued like children. There had been another voice too, one that had him frowning. The mysterious Jake, not blubbering pathetically as expected, but manipulating his men.

  The door creaked, and the voices snapped shut in unison. Maddox clomped into the room, frowning at the man strapped to the chair.

  With each step closer, more wrinkles appeared on his brow. Maddox had no idea who the man was. He wasn’t Richie’s typical recruit, wasn’t trembling from needing a fix and his lips weren’t cracked and scabbed. The man flexed his mouth, flashing all his teeth, it wasn’t normal for them to have a full set. Maddox rubbed at his face, eyes lingering on the pyjama clad man. He wasn’t a rival or someone out for revenge, but a random man. Barely a man, he was young. Even beneath the shiny red swelling, Maddox could see the youth in his skin. No etched frown lines, or receding hairline, but chestnut hair that stuck up unruly. Maddox would’ve guessed twenty or so. Jake, Tom had called him, just a kid.

  Maddox rolled his thumb on his temple with a shake of his head. He shot a questioning look towards Amber and she stuttered her words out.

  “I’m sorry, we haven’t got it…”

  They had presented him with the wrong man, nothing but some scruffy kid that they’d black and blued with their fists.

  Maddox stalked closer, stopping directly behind the wrong hostage. He pulsed his fingers around Jake's shoulder, pressing harder when he got no reaction. There was no cry of pain, or jolt of alarm. Jake stayed perfectly still, spine straight and chin tucked. His hands were bound at his back with rope, the skin of his wrists wasn’t raw and red, but blemish free as if he hadn’t even contemplated escaping.

  “My mistake...I thought-I thought he’d taken it.”

  Amber’s voice was quiet, the slightest of wavers disrupted her tone. Maddox ignored her worry and focused on the man beneath his fingertips.

  Even through Jake's t-shirt Maddox could feel his thumping heart rate; his whole body rocked with his heightened pulse. Jake’s breaths brushed noisily past his lips and his feet fidgeted restlessly on the floor. Strangely, the noises emitting from Jake didn’t irritate Maddox. He cocked his head curiously at the young man.

  Jake was afraid, no doubt about it, but there was something else too. The smallest of twitches to the edge of his lips, almost as if a giddy smile was being withheld.

  Jake turned his head, not far enough to see Maddox’s face but enough to bob near the hand still capturing his shoulder. His movements were sluggish; he seemed to be unaware his head was constantly jerking on his shoulders as he fought off unconsciousness. Maddox admired the fight in him. Something about h
im was oddly endearing.

  He relaxed his hold on Jake's shoulder, rocking back on his heels to remove his tie with his free hand. The tie was thin, but with the swelling creeping over Jake’s eyes it didn’t take much to completely cut off that sense.

  Satisfied Jake didn’t have the strength or willpower to remove the shred of a blindfold, Maddox continued his slow walk into the room. He locked eyes on Amber and Tom who were wide-eyed with their mouths hanging. Carl, on the other hand, had both his hands cupped over his mouth, swaying on his feet. He didn’t look well; moisture clung to his hair, the usually blond strands appearing black with excessive sweat.

  He was about to dismiss Carl, but sagging movement registered in his peripheral. The hostage was drooping forward, and Maddox was quick to rectify it by gripping his shoulder once again.

  “I-I’m Jake...think there’s been a misunderstanding.”

  Maddox narrowed his eyes. The lamb in the wolf’s den routine was a lie. There was confidence to his slurring tone and Maddox remedied it by tugging at his hair. The urge to ruffle and ease his fingers through was too hard to ignore. Nails scratching scalps usually got a reaction, a panicked gasp, or sob. Jake did neither and, more curiously the strands weren’t clogged with sweat, but soft, tickling the gaps between Maddox’s fingers. He moved Jake head with no resistance, the young man let himself be tugged and pulled, pliant and cooperating and it sent an unexpected tingle through Maddox’s body.

  He shook the reaction away, retrieving his gun from his holster and pressing it firmly against Jake’s temple. It wasn’t loaded, he cocked it for dramatic effect, needing to scare the man into telling the truth.

  There was no gasped confession. Jake pressed his lips firmly together and flared his nostrils to take in as much air as he could.

  Along with no confession, there was no begging. Jake didn’t plea for his life. He waited as if he knew Maddox was bluffing.

  Maddox studied the man before him; he fidgeted with unease, his breathing rasped, his whole body rocked with his booming heart rate. Fear. It wasn’t just fear the man was experiencing but excitement.

  Maddox reached for the pale column of his throat. The skin was smooth under his rough fingers. He daren’t press too hard and mark Jake, but gently caressed the flesh on offer to see the reaction.

  Jake shivered, not in a disgusted way with his lip quivering, but a pleasant shudder and gasp. His reaction seemed more like anticipation, and the sides of his neck pimpled with sensitive dots. Maddox ran his fingers over the brail of Jake’s flesh, a secret code Jake’s body produced that he longed to learn. The way he squirmed, Maddox imagined the raised bumps were travelling further than just his neck.

  It wasn’t the usual reaction one would have when threatened. Most men trembled, brows dripping with moisture and chins wobbling. They begged and pleaded and gave up all their information, fearing Maddox would squeeze the life out of them. Jake’s reactions were both surprising and intriguing.

  Brushing his neck wasn’t enough, Maddox moved his wandering fingers to his jaw. The angle was sharp; on close inspection he could see the pin-prick marks of hair follicles, but they weren’t uniform like his. If Jake were to grow a beard it would be patchy and lack uneven. The skin of his jaw was even softer than his throat and the adorable dimple in his chin caught Maddox’s eye. He pressed, and a shot of arousal pooled in his groin when delicate lips wetly opened. He despised lips smacking, but the sound produced by that mouth, he liked.

  A warm breath tickled Maddox’s thumb, and he swallowed hard, thankful his back was facing the others in the room. Jake’s panting breath continued to moisten his thumb. Maddox did one better and rubbed his digit against the inviting pink lips.

  He kept his touch light, not wanting to taint Jake’s fragile skin with his roughened pad; the briefest of contact had Jake heaving for breath. One of Maddox’s hands was imbedded in Jake’s thick hair, the other was cupping his chin with a daring thumb fondling the soft flesh of lip. Maddox had complete control over Jake, and it was a surprise, not only that he was enjoying it, but Jake seemed to be too. Maddox dipped his thumb into the waiting mouth, gathering the wet and spreading it along the outer lip.

  Caressing his neck had earned him a rush of shivers, but once he scored his nails along Jake’s scalp he felt the rumble of a moan against his thumb.

  There was another near silent moan, more felt than heard, and Maddox repositioned himself to hide Jake from the others behind. No doubt they had already seen the swell in Jake’s pyjama bottoms, but he saw fit to protect his modesty as best he could. This moment should’ve been private after all.

  Maddox darted a look behind himself, ready to sneer in the other's direction to get them to leave, but he jolted at the pressure against his thumb. Jake was tentatively licking, slick tongue drawing circles on the pad of his thumb.

  He was naturally submissive, waiting eagerly for what his master deemed fit. Maddox shook the thought away. There shouldn’t have been anything sexual about the moment, they were interrogating Jake over the missing diamond.

  His most valuable treasure. Beethoven’s Diamond. It wasn’t the price tag that made it valuable, but how much Maddox valued it as an item. A piece of glittering beauty made from the man of revolutionary art-

  A swipe of a tongue had his thoughts disintegrating. His breath hitched, but he covered the reaction by shifting on his feet. The slick tongue rested against his thumb again, but Maddox didn’t push back.

  He stopped all caresses and yanked his hands away. Maddox had listened to Jake’s denial on the other side of the door. Whether he was telling the truth was another matter, but right then, Maddox needed to escape before he went further with the man at his mercy. There was no denying he was aroused at the sight before him. Jake may’ve been bruised, but open mouthed, beckoning with his chin for more, he looked gorgeous. His eyes were covered, but Maddox could see the twitch of his eyebrows, the adorable confusion showing on his features.

  Maddox didn’t turn to the others, if he had, they would’ve clamped sight on his straining arousal. His footsteps boomed around the room as he left. A picture of utter calmness, but internally his mind and body ached with frustration. The door swung behind him, and once he was positive he was out of sight he clutched his forehead in a pincer grip rubbing his temples.

  It had been a long time since he’d had sex, even longer since he had dominated someone. That need and desire to take another man apart with exquisite pleasure had long been buried under the stresses of his life. He hadn’t even missed it until that moment with Jake.

  Chapter 3

  “Everything okay, sir?”

  Maddox glanced into the mirror, linking eyes with Lewis. It wasn’t a question that expected an answer. Lewis had grown uneasy in the silence and blurted the first thing he could think of.

  “Take me home.”

  Maddox didn’t miss the extended blink from Lewis, no doubt relieved their muted session had come to an end. The car rumbled, and without being pressed to do so, Lewis lowered the window to let the noise in. Silence, or white noises, there was no in-between for Maddox. He needed the roar of the street, the buzz and the ringing.

  With no conscious thought, his thumb found its way to his mouth. He moved the pad against his lower lip, exactly how he had done to Jake. Remembering the small puffs of air blowing against his skin set tingles rushing through his body. The taste of Jake was gone from his pad, but the entrancement he had put Maddox under remained.

  Lewis was dismissed as soon as they pulled up to the house. Maddox needed time alone. No doubt his men would believe he was angry after the failure at returning the diamond, but he didn’t have time to dwell.

  He needed the familiarity of his ordered home.

  His clothes were stripped as he paced the rooms and he ended up naked in the bathroom. The shower beat down on his body, steaming hot water shooting from all the fancy sprinklers. He tilted his head toward the most prominent cascade above. The water ran through his hair
, flattening it as the rivers of warmth continued their journey south. The static hiss of water filled the room, and he breathed slow and deep to calm himself. For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, he had been hit by the unexpected. The norm of his life had been transformed by Jake’s appearance. The alluring Jake who had a surprising reaction to being at Maddox’s mercy.

  He left the shower, wrapping a towel loosely around his hips, and made his way toward the mirror. It was the first time the greying hairs in his beard bothered him. It reminded him how old he was, specifically how much older he was than Jake. The lines around his eyes were there, the forehead etchings presented themselves every time he pulled an expression, but the grey was the most obvious sign he was aging. He had always favoured grey until he noticed its absence on someone else’s head.

  Forty-five, probably old enough to be Jake’s father. The man who stirred up long repressed desires was a kid, might not have been with a man before, let alone a man obsessed with control.

  He puffed a resentful breath at himself and straightened. The Beethoven tattoo flowed from his heart and he swiped the inking with his fingers. That was most important to him, and he needed to make sure it stayed that way. Beethoven’s diamond, he had to get it back. To snap out of his moping and find it.

  A text chimed on his phone and he stabbed his thumb over the message. Amber told him Jake had got home safely; he was yet to see ‘Jake’s’ home.

  Tom had messaged him the location, a flat in a rough area of town. He didn’t say whether he had flatmates or if there was evidence of a significant other.

  The thought alone made Maddox growl and compress his face in his hands. He needed to pull himself together, and the easiest way to do so was to act as normal.

  He settled into the lavish sofa with his feet up on the coffee table. Delving down the side of the cushions, he found the remote for the stereo and clicked it on. Classical music filled the room and Maddox relaxed into the symphony, eyes closed, and head tipped back. The music obliterated all the troubles in his life, power and passion dancing in the room. The hairs on his arms stood to attention, the tingle in his scalp had him melting further into the leather. Nothing else filled him with the intense feeling of contentment.