by Renard, Loki
“Do you think they will forget about me? I mean, given enough time.”
“I think they will find themselves with bigger fish to fry,” Vicious says. No, it’s Arthur. Arthur. I can’t get that name into my mind at all. He’s not an Arthur. Arthur would be burlier and weightier and have a big beard and he would be fighting Saxons. Vicious might very well be descended from that kind of man, but he is something entirely modern.
“I’m not nice either,” I say softly. “I killed people.”
“You were used to kill. That’s not the same as doing the killing.” His hand is gliding along my spine, his fingers running up and down gently. My arousal is fading. I’m not going to be allowed to orgasm. I know that without asking, and I don’t even miss it, because this is better. This is the closeness I can’t help but crave.
“Will you ever tell me what really happened?”
“Probably not.”
Well, at least he is honest. But unlike his embrace, that answer does not satisfy me. I am going to find out what happened, and I’m going to have my revenge, one way or another. I don’t like being used, at least not that way.
“Don’t pout,” he cautions me. “Innocence is a gift. It doesn’t last long in my world. You should treasure it as long as you can.”
“But I’m not innocent.” The taste of his seed still lingers, flavoring every word I speak.
“You’re more innocent than you know,” he says, dipping his head to kiss me again, long and slow and longing.
He has told me more than I knew before, but there is so much more to know. Losing myself in his kiss is excellent consolation. I could stay here like this for hours, feeling him next to me, talking, perhaps learning more about him. Maybe this is the beginning of a relationship. Something real. Something more than me just being a brat he keeps slapping down into place.
In the midst of my wishful thoughts, the front door opens. Nobody goddamn well knocks around here.
Vicious breaks the kiss and we both look over to see Slick standing there. His lanky body is clad in black jeans and a leather jacket. His bright blue gaze pierces the pair of us from across the room, and the slight lift of his brow suggests that he’s surprised to see us like this.
“I need you,” he says to Vicious. “We have an issue.”
“When don’t we,” Vicious sighs, sliding me off his lap. I restrain the urge to grab at him and pull myself back onto his thighs. “What is it?”
“They just landed at JFK. They’ve got Petrov with them.”
With those words, Vicious becomes a different man. In an instant, the tenderness I only briefly glimpsed is gone. I feel him straighten next to me, his body rigid and tense. Petrov. That’s a name. Probably nothing to do with me, but I’m desperate for information so I cling to it.
“They want a meeting,” Slick says. “I think we should take it.”
“You’re right,” Vicious says, standing up. I’m left behind, sitting alone on the couch as Vicious’ real life intrudes on the vapor of imagination I’d managed to fabricate between us.
He’s halfway out the door before he seems to remember that I am still here.
“I’m likely to be late,” he says, turning to me as he dons a sport coat and buttons it. “I want you to stay in tonight. I will see you when I get back. I want you in bed by midnight. Your training with Coco starts tomorrow.”
With that, he leaves. I am alone again. When I first got here, my instinct would have been to leave, escape. But there’s nowhere to run now. The city holds danger for me. Even my own apartment wasn’t safe. I have no doubt that Vicious has his place watched. He will know if I leave.
So I stay.
I sit at what is becoming home, and I wonder what’s going to happen to me. I wonder what I’m turning into. I wonder if I’ll always feel this safe - or this alone.
4
Kitty
I wake up alone.
I went to sleep at one in the morning, exhausted from waiting and wondering. Vicious’ ‘business’ must have run really late.
I’m surprised to see his side of the bed empty. I expected to find him in bed next to me when I woke up having slipped in during the night. But he’s not there, and there’s no rumpled warmth to suggest he ever was.
Was he working? With the Russians? Or was he distracted? Did he go to one of his other apartments? Did he go with Slick? Or someone else?
He didn’t fuck me last night. Did he go and fuck someone else? Is there another women somewhere? There must be. There has to be. Vicious isn’t a single sort of guy. I know women fall at his feet. Has one fallen into his bed?
I get up, shower, and get dressed. Every passing minute that Vicious isn’t here is another minute I feel more anxious about being alone. What if he got hurt? What if he’s lying dead in an alley? What if he’s lying dead in an alley, and he fucked someone else?
I could text him, but I don’t even know if I really have his number. He contacts me on different ones all the time.
“What are you doing?”
A voice hisses the question from somewhere near the front door. I whirl around to see my friend lurking in an alcove.
“Holy shit, Blaze!” I’m so fucking happy to see her, but she is going to get her ass kicked if she gets caught. Or I am. We both are. “I can’t believe you’re back. What did Slick do to you?”
“Slick is a puppy dog,” she smirks. “Every time I fuck up, he buys me ice cream. He’s not much of a henchman.”
“Lucky,” I snort, crossing my arms over my chest. “Vicious whipped me because you were here.”
“And he gave you a fucked up haircut too,” she says, her eyes running up and down my body. “What’s going on with this?” She points a finger at me and drifts it up and down. “This is a weird look on you. I liked you blonde.”
“Trying to throw the people who are trying to kill me off my scent.”
“Yeah, the people trying to kill you,” she rolls her eyes. “Girl, I stalk this place. I mean, all the time. I haven’t seen anyone who looks like they’re trying to kill you.”
“The corpse in my apartment would disagree.”
“Yeah, but you don’t know where that guy came from. For all you know, Vicious killed that guy and put him there just to freak you out. He likes you scared, Kitty. It makes you easier to control.”
She walks past me into the kitchen and starts making herself a sandwich. I watch her, somewhat stunned. That idea hadn’t occurred to me. Surely Vicious wouldn’t do that to me? Maybe he would. I have been much easier to control since I woke up to a corpse next to the bed.
Some people in this world are immune from the rules the rest of us are forced to follow. I’ve noticed it before. Vicious is one such person. Blaze is another. She’s been threatened with everything from death to near death for being here, and yet all that’s happened to her is Slick has bought her ice cream. Twice.
She’s done all the same kinds of jobs I’ve done, but nobody is trying to kill her. Nobody is trying to kidnap her. It’s not fair.
“What are you pouting about?” She asks the question and shoves the sandwich into her mouth.
“Vicious whipped my fucking ass last time he caught you being here. And you got ice cream.”
“Yeah?” She shrugs.
“Doesn’t that seem unfair to you?”
“Well yeah, but that’s life.”
“I would have thought Slick would have done something to you too.”
“You want me to be beaten? That’s fucked up.”
“No, I just…” I sigh and sit at the counter. “I want to not be the only one who gets fucked over.”
“You’re not.”
“Yes I am.”
“Yeah, nothing bad ever happened to anyone besides you,” she rolls her eyes. “You need to get out more, Kitty.”
She doesn’t understand. She gets to come and go as she pleases, even if she’s not supposed to. There are no dead dudes showing up on her floor in the middle of the night. No
body is holding her down and whipping her because she fails to obey.
“You really don’t get it, do you.”
“What?”
She swallows and puts the sandwich down.
“You’re sitting in an uptown apartment. You’ve got heat. Food. Water. You’ve got no fucking bills. You’ve got endless clothes. You’ve got a man who gives a shit if you’re dead or alive. And you’re sitting here whining because your life isn’t fair? Do you know why Vicious beats you and nobody does shit to me?”
“No…”
Blaze is getting wound up. She can get pretty damn out of control when she’s mad, and right now it’s safe to say she is mad as all hell. Her skin has a beautiful coffee tone that doesn’t usually show heat, but right now she’s blushing furiously with anger. Her eyes are narrowed at me. Her hands are clenched into two fists.
“He CARES about you, Kitty! That’s why this shit is happening to you. He cares, some other fucker cares…”
“I wouldn’t call wanting me dead caring, Blaze. And you just told me he’s lying to me. That’s not exactly caring is it?”
“When people want other people dead in this city, it’s a bullet to the back of the head and and a dumpster. Nobody wants you fucking dead. Everybody is just obsessed with you.”
My eyes widen as it dawns on me what Blaze’s problem really is. “Holy shit. You’re jealous of this, aren’t you. Of me. Now that’s fucked up!”
“Oh fuck off, Kitty!” She spits bits of bread and ham into the air as she tries to eat and yell at the same time.
I don’t know how this happened. I don’t know how we ended up screaming at each other. This isn’t like us. We never fight.
“What’s going on?” Slick strolls into the apartment through what is apparently a door that stops literally nobody from coming in.
His appearance makes me instantly nervous. When Slick shows up, Vicious is never all that far behind. Blaze needs to get out of here. Now.
Fortunately, she seems to agree. She storms out of the kitchen, right up to Slick, and slaps the sandwich against his chest, smearing mustard and ham all over his jacket.
He looks down at her with gruff, annoyed surprise. “What the…”
“Your little princess doesn’t like her tower. Maybe you should take her for ice cream,” she says, slamming out the front door.
I breathe a sigh of relief. At least she’s gone. We can patch things up later. Her being caught by Vicious now would be bad. Really fucking bad for both of us.
“Fuck off! Leave me alone!”
Blaze’s screeches make my heart sink as Vicious walks in. He has Blaze by the back of her jacket. He drags her in like she’s a sack of meat and tosses her on the floor.
“I told you not to come back here,” he says. His eyes flash up at me. “And I told you not to let her in.”
“She lets herself in, Vicious. I can’t stop her. She’s like a rat. She squeezes in places she shouldn’t.”
“Oh go fuck yourself,” Blaze curses, scrambling up to her feet. “You’re all fucked. Fucking liars.”
“Who is lying?” I ask.
“Him,” she says, pointing at Vicious. “And him,” she points at Slick.
“What are they lying about?”
Vicious trips her, sweeping her legs out from under her. Blaze falls and in an instant his foot is on her neck, the shining leather of his shoe making her gasp for breath. It happens so quickly I don’t have time to take in the elegant brutality of it. He handles her like she’s nothing. The way he moved in an instant, explosive, controlled martial motions demonstrate just how dangerous he is, without a weapon or with one.
Shlick click
That’s the sound of a bullet going into the chamber of the gun Vicious now has pointed directly at Blaze’s head.
Pure fear infests me. He’s going to fucking kill her. I can see it in his eyes. That green gaze is cold. His face is hard, a handsome mask without any mercy. I run forward, screaming at the top of my lungs. “Leave her alone! Leave her the fuck alone!”
I crash into Vicious, grab for the gun. But my mass isn’t nearly enough to knock him off balance. Throwing myself into him is like throwing myself against a brick wall.
Slick darts around and grabs me off Vicious. Ham and mustard are smeared between us as his big hands yank me back by the elbows, pulling my back against his front. “Stop it,” he growls in my ear. “You’re making this worse.”
Vicious starts lecturing Blaze at gun point. “You don’t invade my home, speak to me with disrespect…”
Blaze looks over at me. “See,” she rasps. “This is the difference between us.”
She’s right. Vicious wouldn’t knock me down and point a gun at me. He’d tie me up and beat me. He’d whip and arouse me. I wouldn’t be feeling the underside of his shoe against my neck. I wouldn’t be pinned to the ground like a feral animal.
“Get the fuck off her,” I scream. “Get your foot the fuck off my friend’s throat or I’ll fucking find my way out and let whoever wants me take me. You’re a goddamn psycho!”
Slick claps his hand over my mouth, cutting off further cries.
Vicious
Kitty’s eyes are the only part of her expression I can see over Slick’s fingers, but they’re all I need to see to know she’s shocked. She shouldn’t be. This is who I am. This is who she knew I was a week ago. Just as I feared, our gentle little interlude yesterday set up a slew of expectations which I knew would lead to trouble. I didn’t have to wait long to be proved right.
This is why I can’t play little domestic games with her. This is why I have to maintain distance and authority. I need Kitty to have a lot more fear in her. And I definitely need the scrappy little minx under my shoe to be more respectful.
“You’re not going to shoot me,” Blaze hisses. “So let me the fuck up.”
She’s right. I’m not going to put a bullet in her. Not here, especially. It would ruin my floor.
I straighten and keep her where she is.
Dealing with women is a pain in the ass. Men, I can just beat. Kitty, I can chain and lash and touch. Blaze… this is one girl too far. I can’t deal with her as well as Kitty. Not without making Kitty hate me forever.
I look over at Slick.
“She’s yours,” I grind out. “And I mean YOURS. Next time she fucks up, I’m taking it out on you.”
Slick grins. “Sure, okay.”
That’s not the response I expected. I’ve just thrown him a hell of a curveball. Blaze is cute, but she’s even more trouble than Kitty. If she keeps getting mixed up in my business, she will have to be put down. Kitty won’t like it, but it will be necessary. I know Slick has a soft spot for this girl, but she’s going to be a handful and we both know it.
“You can’t just give me to someone! I’m a person. I’m not property.”
“Wrong,” I growl down at her. “You forfeited your rights when you disobeyed me three times. THREE. TIMES.” I thunder the words. “There will not be a fourth.”
I take my foot off her neck. There’s a red mark where her struggles have left an imprint. Slick lets Kitty go so he can come forward and grab Blaze before she does something stupid. She’s screaming and hollering as he hauls her off the ground, yanks her over his shoulder and strides out of the apartment, leaving me with Kitty.
“You are a fucking…” Kitty foams spittle.
“Shut. Up.” I snap the words. I don’t want to hear her opinion on this. I don’t care what she thinks. She doesn’t know enough to have anything valid to say on the subject. She’s a spoiled little twenty-two year old girl and she has no concept how fortunate she is.
She falls into another one of her shocked silences.
“You are behaving like a spoiled little girl,” I lecture. “You sneak your friend in, you throw tantrums when I address the situation. Your LIFE is at stake.”
“Says who?”
“Says me.”
“Yeah. You. You’re the only one who ever said
that I was in danger. And there was a dead guy on the floor but you could have put him there.”
“And why would I do that?”
“To manipulate me.”
“And why,” I say, my voice dangerously soft and calm. “Would I bother to do that?”
“I don’t know. Why do you do anything?”
Her refusal to understand the gravity of her situation is infuriating. In keeping her safe, I have shielded her so well from the danger that she’s not even sure it exists. She doesn’t trust me. Doesn’t believe me. She thinks I am a liar.
Usually I am. But not to her.
“Go see Ms Sashay,” I say, my teeth gritted. “The car and driver are waiting for you. I will deal with you later.”
She leaves, petulant and quiet. It takes everything I have not to reach out as she walks past me and put her through her most intense discipline session yet. I refrain, because the night’s activities did not go well. I am angry. Not at these little girls whose misbehavior is trying, but at grown men who will destroy everything others have worked for just to have their own way.
I need to calm down before I deal with Kitty. When she gets back home, we are going to have words.
Right now, I need an ice pack and a stiff drink.
5
Kitty
I fucking hate him.
The way he treated Blaze was inhuman. It was like she was nothing. Less than the dirt on his shoes. I know she shouldn’t have come back, that it was tempting fate and taunting him, but he didn’t have to do that to her. She’s harmless to everything but his ego.
I sit sulking in the back of the car as a man who doesn’t speak to me drives me around. He may as well be a robot for all the life he displays.
Being chauffered through New York is an experience I could probably get used to, but at what cost? When is Vicious going to decide that I deserve to be thrown to the ground and held in place beneath his feet? When is he going to humiliate me to that extent?
He already has.