King's Toy (Merciless Kings Book 4)

by Piper Stone

  As the lights began to dim, I shifted my gaze toward the deliciously handsome man at one of the closest tables. He wasn’t anything like the basic thugs who frequented Club Havana. With his dark hair and steel-gray eyes, a suit that I could easily recognize wasn’t purchased from the rack at Nordstrom’s, he’d given my soul a push for the night.

  And my nipples were hard as pebbles, a burning desire remaining as the set ended. I had a feeling he was off limits.

  But a girl could dream.

  Laughing, I walked off the stage, yanking a fresh towel from the shelf located just outside the fringe of the viewing eye. At least the gig paid well, enough to be able to pay my rent on time for the first month in I didn’t even know how long.

  “Do you have any idea who the fuck you were flirting with?” The hard yank of the drummer pissed me off.

  I jerked my arm out of Butch’s clutches, hissing under my breath. He’d always thought he was required to be my caretaker, as if I needed one. “What the hell do you care? It’s my job to flirt with the crowd.”

  Butch snorted, rolling his eyes. “Yeah? Well, you should be careful, little girl. The man sitting at that table was none other than Vincenzo King.”

  The name registered, enough so I held my breath. The King family, notorious criminals out of New Orleans. I knew they’d arrived in Galveston a couple of years before, determined to expand their horizons. I’d heard all the chatter from the freaking biker gang I’d been stupid enough to get myself associated with. The King family were arrogant. They were demanding. In my mind, they needed to be taken down a notch or two.

  Yeah, as if the grizzly bikers had enough intelligence to do so.

  If the prez of the gang had his way, he’d chop off Vincenzo’s head, presenting it as a gift to the rest of the King family. I knew Pedro well enough to know that would never happen. I rushed into the dressing room, trying to smash the door in Butch’s face but he slammed his hands against the hollow wood, shoving me several feet into the room.

  God, I hated the man. Butch had always acted as if he was superior, hating me from the day Pedro had insisted I become a part of the band. I wasn’t stupid. I’d smelled blood in the air for weeks, which is why I had a plan to return back home in two months. Two freaking months of hell. Then I’d return to some kind of normal life.

  Whatever that meant since I’d lost what had been left of my family years before.

  I just knew I had to get out of this lousy town.

  “Just let go of me. I can handle my own protection.” I shifted backwards, glaring at him.

  He tilted his head, a smile crossing his face. “Yeah? I doubt it. You think you’re hot shit. The truth is you’re nothing without this band.”

  I was finished with his bullshit, his disgust at having me as the lead singer. “What I think is that you’re a has-been, a worthless drummer who drinks too much. Get out of my way, Butch. I’m tired of dealing with your crap.” I could smell the liquor on his breath and as he lumbered toward me, his dark eyes sparking the same kind of brutal longing I’d seen more than once, I couldn’t take it any longer.

  When I slammed my fist against his jaw, I was almost giddy with the fact he tumbled backwards. Goddamn, my hand ached and as I shook it, he regained his footing, growling like some freaking barbarian before lunging in my direction.

  “Bitch! I’m finished with you.”

  I wasn’t certain if everyone experienced that rare moment where time stood still, but as he attempted to grab me around the throat, the light blurred for a few seconds. An echo pulsing in my ears, I blinked several times from the sight of Butch being tossed against the wall like a ragdoll.

  Then I heard his voice, the very man who’d watched me like a hawk from the front of the stage.

  “You don’t ever fucking treat women that way.” The tone was deep, creating a series of vibrations skating throughout my body. I stared at Vincenzo King, taking several shallow breaths. He was gorgeous. Debonair. With his impeccable attire and jet-black hair, eyes that could pierce through armor, he was the epitome of dangerous.

  By his side was another brute of a man, the scar on his face terrifying. He stood in front of the door with his arms folded, obviously prepared to stop anyone from coming inside.

  “Fuck off, asshole,” Butch snarled.

  When Butch was stupid enough to struggle to his feet, taking a swing at the unwanted visitor, I forced myself to turn away. Yet I caught the reflection in the mirror of the man who’d come to my rescue.

  Everything about him was menacing as hell, his presence terrifying me.

  I slid down the wall, covering my ears yet unable to mask the horrible sound of violent punches as Vincenzo pummeled Butch’s face and body. As blood flew from Butch’s mouth, I couldn’t take it any longer, closing my eyes and praying this would all be over.

  All I could hear was Butch’s raspy moans as he toppled to the floor.

  “Get out of here,” Vincenzo commanded.

  I heard another series of guttural sounds coming from Butch then a hard thud.

  Then I sensed Vincenzo’s presence in front of me. Lifting my head, I gave him a nasty glare. Butch was no longer in the room, only the bodyguard or whatever he was remaining just behind the horrible mobster. A realization flashed into my mind. The mobster didn’t save me from the lecherous band member without a reason. I was in no mood to tangle with a criminal. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

  He chuckled as he peered down at me, finally offering a hand. “Get up, Rebel.”

  I ignored his gesture, folding my arms. “I asked you a fucking question.”

  “And I’ll give you an answer when you obey me.”

  Obey?

  Who the fuck was the man kidding? I obeyed no one.

  Yet I slid up the wall, ignoring his offered hand, taking several deep breaths as I stared into his eyes. “Not a chance, buster.”

  He inched closer, enough so I felt suffocated almost immediately. When he placed his hand on the wall to my left, I did everything I could to mask my emotions.

  “I see we’re going to have an issue,” he huffed.

  “If you leave now, there won’t be one.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that. You’re going to talk to me.”

  “Yeah? What if I don’t?”

  He narrowed his eyes, the simple action creating a wave of terror skating down my spine. “I don’t think you want that answer, Rebel. Now, tell me about Angel Riviera.”

  The demand came out of the blue, nothing that I would have expected. I shored up my courage, keeping my hard gaze locked on his eyes. What the hell did the Los Pirados VP have to do with this? “He’s a pig. What else do you want to know?”

  “I need to know who he sold his soul to, Rebel.”

  The way he said my name sent shivers down my spine.

  As if he knew me.

  As if he was going to break me.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I suggest you get the fuck out of here before security comes.”

  “I assure you that no one is coming to help you. You have limited choices. I suggest that you realize that right now.”

  “Fuck you,” I spouted, although I had a terrible feeling that I was going to regret it.

  He lifted his head, eyeing me carefully.

  Then he laughed.

  There was something about his laugh, so dark and demonic that my skin almost crawled. Yet I couldn’t help but find the man attractive, a crazed longing pooling into the very depth of my being.

  He took a deep breath, tipping his head toward the ceiling. When he exhaled, the sound was exaggerated. “I don’t have time to waste, Rebel. You have one last chance to tell me the truth.”

  “Or what?”

  “Or you won’t like the consequences.”

  I laughed nervously, trying my best to stand to my full height. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Vincenzo nodded several times. For a split second, I thought he wa
s going to walk away.

  Then he pushed me over the edge of the card table I’d been provided, raking the contents onto the floor. When he lifted my skirt, I was mortified, unable to breathe for a full ten seconds as panic settled in.

  There was no hesitation as he snagged my panties in his fingers, snapping his wrist. Both the sound as well as the act was horrifying but seeing his cold and calculating reflection kept me from reacting.

  “You need to learn a lesson, Rebel. The hard way.” He brought his hand down against my bottom several times in a row, moving from one side to the other.

  After a few seconds, something kicked in. I didn’t give a shit who the bastard was, he wasn’t going to treat me like some wayward child. Not a chance. I swung one arm around as I shifted, managing to pop him in the stomach.

  The asshole didn’t even grunt.

  But the look in his eyes changed.

  He was pissed.

  “You shouldn’t have done that, Rebel.” He fisted my hair, twisting my head then delivering several even more brutal strikes. The pain was intensified by the pins securing the wig to my head. While his hold was strong, the damn thing remained in place.

  My mask.

  My persona.

  My protection.

  As if it was going to do me any good.

  I tried to strike him again, but the building pain was too intense. Gasping, I glared at my reflection, loathing the woman staring back at me. “Don’t. That hurts.” I was horrified that the other asshole was watching everything.

  “You crossed the line. You need to accept your punishment.” He refused to stop, every brutal slap harder than the one before.

  I wiggled, shifting back and forth against the table as the pain turned into anguish, the heat on my bottom creeping down the back of my legs.

  When he stopped for a few seconds, I tried to push up from the table. He slammed me down, leaning over and crushing his body against my bruised bottom. Oh, my God. The man was rock hard. He was enjoying this… misery. Bastard. Asshole. I would find a way to kill him. When he blew across my cheek, I shuddered to my core.

  “You don’t seem to understand the predicament you’re in.”

  “Get. Off. Me,” I hissed.

  He tilted his head, never blinking as he gazed on our combined reflection, a wickedly handsome smile on his face. He reeked of power and dominance, his chiseled jaw and high cheekbones adding to his dangerous allure. I was mortified at the realization I was attracted to him. A monster. A killer. Even his exotic scent as it filled every cell set my body on fire.

  I had to be a sick human being.

  “You will learn.” He began the spanking again, the slaps harder and faster.

  The anguish was intense, yet even worse was my growing arousal, some dark and ridiculous desire that I had no understanding of.

  “Tell me about Angel,” he demanded.

  “There is nothing else to tell you.”

  “All right. Have it your way.” He jerked back, releasing his hold.

  Then he yanked me off the table, gathering me into his arms and tossing me over his shoulder as if he was some barbarian capturing his hunted prey.

  “Let me go!” I demanded, pummeling my fists against his back.

  He didn’t bother responding as he took long strides out of the dressing room, heading down the dark corridor toward the back exit.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I did everything I could to get out of his hold, kicking my legs and undulating my body. I lifted my head, struggling to make eye contact with anyone who might help me. They all turned away, acting as if they weren’t seeing anything.

  What the fuck?

  The man was far too strong, his hold like pure iron. There was no possibility I was getting out of his grasp. When he shoved his hand against the back door, ushering us outside, a horrible vision rushed into my mind.

  Images of blood and gore.

  He was going to kill me.

  “No. No!” My scream was quickly squelched when I noticed another man opening the trunk of a car, his larger than life persona creating a sick feel in my stomach. I suddenly couldn’t breathe, my throat clenching shut. “No,” I said more meekly than I’d ever done in my life and as I was tossed into the dense space, my life flashed in front of my eyes.

  This was nothing but a nightmare, one where the bad guy always won.

  I clawed at the underside of the trunk only seconds after the lid was closed. Muffled sounds as the two men talked only created additional terror, but I refused to give in. They wouldn’t take me alive. Fuck them.

  “You’re going to be all right,” I whispered, every inch of my body shaking. I closed my eyes for a few seconds, pretending I hadn’t been captured by some monster. As the sound of the engine pulsed into my ears, I issued a deep growl.

  Not that anyone would care.

  I was nothing to anyone in this lousy town.

  “Find something. You can get yourself out of this.” I bit back a whimper as I rolled onto my back, kicking my legs against the side of the car. What the hell was this about? What did Angel do to piss off a man like Vincenzo King? I tried to control my breathing, forcing shallow breaths as I shifted my hand to the side, feeling for anything that could help me stay alive. When my fingers wrapped around a thick piece of metal, a smile actually crossed my face.

  While I might not be able to get out of the confined space, the motherfucker had another think coming if he thought he could take me without a fight. I shifted my hand down the length of the implement, realizing it was a jack, the thick metal able to provide a hefty blow. A nervous laugh bubbled to the surface as I closed my eyes, doing everything I could to listen to any sounds.

  I wanted to make certain that after I beat the fucker to within an inch of his life, I could share details of my abduction with the police.

  Several minutes passed, leaving me anxious and my heart fluttering. I could tell by the way the asshole drove that we were still in the city. He couldn’t have gone over forty-five miles per hour. Where the hell was he taking me? Was there some dumping ground nearby? A landfill where he could dispose of my body? I was sick to my stomach, doing everything I could to curtail my nerves, but nothing seemed to work.

  Why had I accepted Angel’s dinner invitation? Why?

  As the car began to roll to a stop, I firmed my grip on the tire iron, prepared to strike. I strained to listen, but only the hammering of my heart pulsed in my ears. There were no sounds, no echo of male voices. I’d never felt so alone or terrified in my life.

  Then I heard footsteps and bristled, ready to swing. As soon as the trunk lid was lifted, I didn’t waste any time, smiling when the thick metal managed to smash against the asshole’s face. I released a bellowing cry when the mafia man was pitched backward, fighting my aching muscles in order to jump out of the confined space. As the second guy tried to grab me, I managed to dodge, but I knew my chances of getting away were slim.

  I took off running, refusing to look back, determined to get the hell out of here.

  Within seconds, a hand was wrapped around my arm, yanking me backward.

  And I didn’t even hear the asshole’s approach.

  “No. No!” I did everything I could to fight him off, but he was too strong. A rag was shoved into my mouth as he fisted his hand around my hair, dragging me closer to the heat of his body. He threw his arm around my neck, his brutal hold suffocating immediately.

  “Rebel. That wasn’t very nice of you. I can take a lot of shit, but not tonight. I suggest you remain calm. We’re going to have a nice, long talk, you and I. If I get the answers I’m looking for, then you’ll be released. If not, I’ll resume your punishment.”

  The bastard actually thought he was going to do that shit again. That was crazy. Who the hell did he think he was? I was almost instantly lightheaded, my mind still reeling. No one was ever going to punish me again, especially not some high roller with an arrogant attitude.

  “Stay here,” Vinc
enzo commanded to the other asshole. “We have other business to attend to tonight.”

  “You got it, boss.”

  Vincenzo didn’t seem the least bit concerned as he strolled into a hotel’s lobby, taking long strides. He was even whistling, for God’s sake, likely drawing the night staff’s attention, but from what I could tell, no one seemed to give a shit.

  I cinched my eyes shut, praying one of my band mates would call the police. Sadly, I had the distinct feeling that no one in the lousy town was going to cross a man like Vincenzo King. When we were in the elevator alone, the doors rolling shut, he dropped me to my feet, instantly backing me against the cold steel. The sight of the trickle of blood oozing down the side of his face almost caused a smile to cross my face. I hope his head hurt like shit.

  He seemed to sense what I was staring at, pressing his fingers to his head.

  “I’m going to remove your gag, but you will be a nice little girl and obey me. I can be a fair man, or I can be a harsh asshole. The choice is entirely up to you.” He removed the gag, slipping it into his pocket.

  My pulse skipping several beats, I tried to slide away, saying a series of silent prayers.

  He planted his hands on either side of me, peering down with a twinkle in his goddamn eyes. I hadn’t paid any attention to how tall he was, completely dwarfing my smaller frame. Everything about him was powerful and dangerous, his allure undeniable. He was dressed impeccably, but his freshly pressed shirt and expensive suit did nothing to take away from his animalistic prowess.

  “You’re going nowhere. Now, are you going to behave until we get into the room, or do I need to provide you with a reason to comply?” he asked, his deep baritone sending a wave of quivers down my spine.

  I took a deep breath, almost instantly intoxicated from his rich, exotic scent. I wanted to close my eyes, to pretend that this wasn’t happening, but the fight instinct remained. Somehow, I would find a way to get the hell away from him. “Fuck you.”

  “Such a nasty mouth for a beautiful woman. Maybe we need to wash it out with soap.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.” It took everything I had not to say harsher words, but I wouldn’t give in. Nope. I was much stronger than this asshole realized.