The Devil's Desire

by Clara Capp

  Taime rips the duct tape from his mouth.

  “Fuck you, man!” the man says, then spits at me.

  “I thought you’d say that. Again.” I walk over to the cabinets lining the basement wall. “What shall we do about this?”

  I already know what I’m going to do, but I pull each drawer out slowly. The slower I move, the higher this man’s heartrate, and the more likely he’ll talk.

  I grab the thin slices of bamboo and I see Taime look the other way. He isn’t one for torture. Taime can kill a roomful of people in less than three minutes, but he prefers headshots. It’s quick, it’s easy, it gets the job done.

  I’m blessed with a different skillset. When I torture people, there’s no remorse. I feel no emotion as people scream from pain and beg for their lives.

  I change my mind at the last minute and grab a hammer and nails. I’ll mix things up a bit. Bamboo is one of my favorites, but I’ll spice it up.

  I turn around and the man sees what’s in my hand. The chair clacks on the floor as he tries to escape, but the zip ties we have around his limbs prevent him from going anywhere.

  I motion for Taime to hold the plank under his hand. There’s no hesitation as I take the hammer and pound the nail into the center of his hand.

  “El Diablo!” he screams.

  “That’s what they call me.”

  I slam the hammer into the center of his hand a few more times for good measure. His bones crack and blood seeps through the center of the wound. After I’m satisfied, I repeat it with his other hand. He continues to scream and call me the devil, which I ignore, because I am.

  “Calm down. Jesus did this for your sins. If I recall correctly, he was hanging from a cross. So.” I cross my arms. “Are you going to tell me?”

  “Fuck,” he heaves. “You.”

  “I thought you’d say that.”

  The man looks confused as I reach for the bamboo. He obviously hasn’t done much torturing in his career. I’m excited to be the first one to demonstrate this for him.

  “I think you’ll change your mind.”

  I grab his index finger and slam the small bamboo shoot under his fingernail. He screams in agony as his nail is peeled back and the shoot goes into the bone.

  The man is surprisingly strong willed. I make it through four fingers before he caves.

  “Ok, ok!” he shouts. “I’ll tell you.”

  “Fantastic.”

  “Eduardo doesn’t plan to attack Gary directly.”

  “Oh really?” I’m not buying it, and I hold up another bamboo shoot.

  “Si! He’s going straight to you, since you work so closely. After he’s done with you, he’ll go for Gary.”

  “And how does he plan on doing this?” I ask.

  “Yo no se!”

  Like fuck he doesn’t know. I grab another bamboo shoot and shove it up his pinky. I get satisfaction as his nail peels backwards, and the man vomits from pain.

  “I swear!”

  After a few more bamboo shoots I’m satisfied he doesn’t know anything else.

  “We’re done here,” I say to Taime.

  He picks up his pistol and in an instant the man is out of his suffering. So humane.

  Taime is the man you don’t want at your doorstep. When criminals hear they’re after him, they tremble in fear. He can walk into a crowded club and kill thirty men, and the boss is sitting calmly, because he knows his fate.

  That’s why I’m ‘The Devil.’ Taime may be able to kill a room full of men, but there are some things worse than death. And I was born to inflict those things upon people.

  Together, we’re perfect complements of one another. And that’s why father adopted us.

  I was chosen to be the underboss by our adopted father. He knows I’m a heartless being who doesn’t care if I have to torture women and children to get what I need, and I make my moves like chess pieces across a board.

  Taime doesn’t care I was chosen. In fact, I think he prefers it. He doesn’t say it, but there are days when he really doesn’t want to do this. So, there’s no sibling rivalry between us.

  “Find someone to clean this up,” I mutter.

  It’s getting near six, so Stephanie will be walking by soon. I need to change into a set of clothes that aren’t covered in blood, so she doesn’t find out that I truly am The Devil.

  * * *

  After I found out Stephanie is Gary Hawthorne’s daughter, I vowed to never let my lips touch her again. When I walked her home and had her pinned against the wall, I almost broke the promise. As I said goodbye and saw my first mark fading, the promise went out the window.

  I want my lips to be on hers…and more intimate parts of her body. My cock throbs in my pants. There’s no way she’ll let that happen. She may enjoy my small nips, but if I ever try to go further I have a feeling I’ll get slapped.

  I’ll still tease myself and walk her home. Gary did say to keep an eye on her, so really, I’m just following his directions.

  Tony and I sit out front of the building as I wait for her.

  “Are you walking Stephanie home again?” he asks.

  “What of it?”

  He gives me a side glance, and I can tell he doesn’t want to overstep. He may be older, but I’m higher in rank. “She’s a very sweet girl. Completely innocent and has no idea what we’re capable of. Just keep that in mind.”

  “Right.”

  I know. And that sweet side is part of what draws me to her. It’s like a forbidden fruit that I’ve never been able to taste. I’ve been a monster my entire life and being around her kindness is a weird high.

  She turns the corner, and waves at Tony and I. Tony waves back and I nod at her. She smiles at us and asks about our day.

  I can’t tell her I shoved bamboo under someone’s fingernails less than two hours ago. “Good. Pretty slow.”

  Tony asks her about missing invoices from the acquisition, and I’m momentarily jealous that he knows so much about her life. Stephanie responds with some jargon I’m sure her father would understand. I know Tony has no idea what’s she saying, but he pretends to because it makes her happy that someone is listening.

  I wish could do that for her. Instead, I wait until they’re finished.

  “Ready to go?” I ask.

  “Oh, um, sure. Bye, Tony!”

  “Bye, Stephanie.”

  We walk down the street together, and I’m not sure what to talk about. I can’t bring up her father, because that will inevitably lead to our business dealings, which Stephanie doesn’t know about. I don’t want to hear the accounting jargon again. Making people scream is so much easier than holding a conversation.

  Fortunately, she breaks the silence.

  “You don’t have to walk me home, you know,” she says. “I’m sure you’re busy.”

  “I need to get dinner, and you’re on the way.”

  “Oh.” She holds her left arm. “Well, don’t ever feel obliged to wait for me.”

  “I won’t. I’ll probably still wait, though.” Her father said to keep an eye on her. But that’s not why I’ll be waiting.

  I see her turn red and I have to hide the smirk on my face. It’s easy to make her squirm.

  I realize I don’t want her to leave as we near the end of our walk, which is weird. Stephanie is just a hot girl. It’s normal for me to want to fuck her every time I look at her, but not to want to continue to be around her.

  “Come to dinner with me?” I ask.

  “Huh?”

  “Hancock Street Café. They have great pasta.”

  “Oh, um…I don’t know.”

  She’s biting her lower lip in indecision. The small act is so hot, and I have to restrain myself from running my finger along the portion that’s still showing.

  “C’mon.” I grab her hand and lead her towards the restaurant. “I’m paying.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to—”

  “But I want to.”

  I don’t let go of her hand as
we walk to the restaurant. I can’t get over how amazingly silky it feels against my calloused skin. It feels illegal holding her hand, knowing that hers have saved lives and mine have killed.

  When I look at her from the corner of my eye, I see that the color of her face almost matches her hair. Yes, I have a feeling I’ll be making her squirm often.

  We walk into the deserted restaurant. There’s an older man watching football as he sits by the cash register, waiting for the few customers that come in. A cheap, plastic menu hovers above his head. The place looks like it’ll give you food poisoning, but it has some good food.

  “Um…what do you normally get?” Stephanie asks. I can tell she’s skeptical based off the restaurant’s interior.

  “If you like pasta, both the spaghetti and gnocchi are good.”

  We both order the gnocchi. I lead her to the table in the back of the restaurant and we sit down together. As I sit next to her, I’m fairly sure I’ve made all the blood in her body rush to her face. She’s been red almost the entire time we’ve been together.

  Her auburn hair cascades down her back, and the mark I left is still visible. Good. As much as I don’t want to anger Gary, I want to mark her as mine more. No one else can touch her except me. Even if I’m not supposed to touch her.

  She looks at me and does the thing where she bites her lip in nervousness, and I realize if I don’t excuse myself immediately, I’m going to do bad things to this woman. “I’m going to use the restroom.”

  I almost sprint to the bathroom. I splash cold water on my face and take a few deep breaths. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Why am I attracted to the one girl I shouldn’t sleep with? She’s Gary fucking Hawthorne’s daughter.

  If it were any other girl, I could just fuck them until it got out of my system. But I’ve also never had this problem with any other girl. I’ve never been this attracted to one to the point where I’ll go out of my way for her. The other girls were meant strictly for release, and then they go.

  What has Stephanie Hawthorne done to me.

  I manage to get my throbbing dick under control and make my way back to our table. Two men are hovering over Stephanie and she has cowered back as far possible to get away from them. My rage flares as I see them lean closer to her.

  My first instinct is to beat them into the ground. They’re approaching what’s mine, and they’re going to pay for that. But, I can’t let her know that I’m The Devil.

  “If you’ll excuse me gentleman,” I say. “I need to get back to my date.”

  They scoff at me. If I was having a bad day, I’d beat them into the ground. It’s fortunate that logic wins today.

  “It would behoove you to leave us alone.” I stretch my tattooed arm along the table. It’s covered in Mafia tattoos, and my devil mark is clearly visible.

  They’ve both gone white. One of them tries to talk. “The De—”

  I don’t let him finish speaking. “I appreciate your cooperation.”

  “How did you…?” Stephanie asks, right as the older man drops the pasta at our table.

  “I’m very persuasive.”

  The look in my eye tells her not to ask questions. Stephanie knows I’m a criminal. But she’ll never find out the full extent. She looks away from me and focuses on her pasta.

  “This isn’t a date you know.” Stephanie has gone bright red again and is staring intently at her gnocchi.

  “What?”

  “When you were talking to the men. You said you had to get back to your date.”

  I laugh. “I just wanted to see if they’d back off the easy way, Sweetheart. Most men will stop talking to a girl if they think she’s taken.”

  “I just…oh.”

  We finish our meal with light conversation, and I manage to keep my hands off her. I am hyper aware every time our hands accidentally brush, or our feet touch under the table.

  “Thank you for dinner,” Stephanie says as we walk towards her apartment.

  “Thanks for keeping me company.”

  Stephanie peers into an empty lot we pass by. “Oh. Did you see that?”

  “See what?”

  Stephanie crouches down, and I can’t figure out what she’s looking at. I squint my eyes, trying to see what she does in this darkness.

  Two golden sets of eyes stare at us.

  “Kittens,” she says.

  They are partway hidden under cardboard boxes and trash.

  “Oh,” I say. “That’s nice.”

  I don’t like animals. They leave fur everywhere, vomit on the carpet, and it’s too much work to take care of them. Stephanie would be the type to like those rodents. She probably sees them as ‘cute’ and ‘cuddly.’

  I’m about to continue walking, but Stephanie has other plans. She starts to squeeze herself in between a small hole in the fence.

  “What are you doing?!” I ask.

  “Trying to get them.”

  She ignores my protests and walks towards the cats. After making some ‘pspspsp’ and clicking noises, the two wander over to her. Stephanie quickly scoops them up before they have a chance to change their mind.

  “Can you hold them for a minute?” She passes them through the hole in the fence.

  I want to say no, I don’t want to hold the flea ridden animals, but I’m not going to upset her.

  “I guess.”

  I take the cats. The kittens immediately curl up in my arms and start purring, and it feels like the least manly thing in the world. Stupid pests. “Tch.”

  “They like you!” She gives me a smile. I would hold a hundred purring kittens to see it every day. “Hopefully Slippers doesn’t mind roommates for a few days.”

  “Your cat?” I ask.

  “Yeah.”

  How is she so good? No one should have a heart this pure. And why is it her? She’s the daughter of Gary Hawthorne, the most corrupt businessman in the U.S. She should have been born with evil running through her veins.

  We reach her apartment, and even though we’ve spent a few extra hours together, it doesn’t feel like enough. It’s agonizing walking her to her apartment door knowing I’m about to say goodbye.

  “Thanks for dinner,” she says.

  “Thanks for the company.”

  Stephanie laughs as the cats cuddle further in my arms. “I may have to rip them away from you.” She leans towards me and starts petting one behind the ear.

  That’s it. She’s too close to me, and I want more. I only need one arm to hold the cats. I take the other and wrap it around her lower back. She gets over her initial shock and leans into my body, wrapping her arms around my neck.

  She feels so small when I wrap my arms around her. The trained, instinctual, part of me should be snapping her neck, but I have a different feeling right now. It’s a desire burning only for her, and a strong need to protect her.

  “You do very bad things to me, Stephanie Hawthorne,” I growl.

  “I get the same feeling when I’m with you,” she whispers back.

  She kisses me in the same area I mark her. The shy girl starts to nibble at my neck, mirroring what I do to her. I let out a moan as her tongue licks my pulse, and I wonder what that tongue would feel like on other parts of my body.

  I can’t take it anymore. My cock has filled with blood and my urge to take her is stronger than ever. I grab her hip and grind my stiffness into her, silently showing how much I want her.

  She gasps and pulls away from me.

  “I, I have to go! Sorry.”

  She doesn’t even look at me as she grabs the cats and shuts the door.

  Fuck. I was too forward. That was stupid of me.

  There’s no doubt. I need to fuck Stephanie Hawthorne. If I don’t get this out of my system, she will overtake my mind. Her pure hearted nature. Her smile. How she’s too shy and can’t hold my stare for long periods of time.

  Yes, fucking her will be the only way to fix this problem.

  Stephanie

  I still can’t believe I did
that. When he pulled my body against his and admitted he gets the same bad feelings that I do, I needed to taste him. I can see why he likes to bite there. If he hadn’t ground his bottom half into me, I would have stayed like that for an hour, gently nibbling his flesh.

  But that’s another problem. I’ve never even felt another man’s, you know, until then. It was shocking. I didn’t know it would feel like that. I didn’t expect it to be so big, and I never knew what ‘hard’ meant until I felt it. And if it feels like that through his pants, what will it be like with no clothes on?

  Oh no. Here I go again, thinking about Shu in ways I shouldn’t. I didn’t even have these thoughts about my ex-boyfriends, but here I am, thinking dirty thoughts about a guy I’ve known less than a week.

  I like the way he holds me. Shu is extremely tall and muscular, and I know he could crush me to death at any moment. When I was in his arms, there was no threat, only protection. He held me like I was a special prize meant only for him.

  The small moan Shu let out as I kissed him still echoes in my ear. But it’s not like I’ll hear it again. I’ll never be able to look at him again after what happened last night.

  I drop my face in my hands. Why me? I didn’t want a hot criminal to make his way into my life.

  “Still agonizing over that guy, I see.” Donovan whirls his chair to face me.

  “There is no guy,” I blurt.

  “Uh huh. You try to cover up those marks on your neck, but I can still see them.”

  I’m bright red as he stares at me. This isn’t a subject I want to talk about at work. The acquisition, the kittens, what I want for lunch. Anything but Shu.

  “So, do you have a picture? I want to see what your man looks like.”

  “I don’t have—”

  “He’s hot.” Rina’s head pokes over my cubicle. “The bad boy type.”

  I forgot we’re going to lunch together. She must’ve gotten tired of waiting for me and made her way up here.

  She’s never even been to the accounting department. But I suppose it’s easy enough to find the admin building, go to the third floor, and then wander around until she found my cubicle.

  Donovan cackles. “You don’t strike me as the type to like bad boys.” He turns to face Rina. “How hot, exactly?”