by J. D. Sloane
“Five twenty-six,” he said, enunciating each word so distinctly she felt them like a slap. “You think you’d do well on your own? Roll the dice, Holly. Go head. Here’s your big chance to prove. Me. Wrong.”
Ronan’s face flashed with an unpleasant sort of triumph and then leaned back on his heels, his jaw rolling with light contempt as he looked down at her through the top of her cage. He cocked his head as Alicia grabbed for the lock, rolling the first number around in the tumbler as she felt her fingers quake and felt them slow down as she moved to the next number, his gaze shifting from her hands to her eyes. She felt the lock slip out of her fingers, the simple desperate honesty of her situation beginning to crowd out her resolve and felt her breath catch in her throat as Ronan raised his brows at her, cocking his head slightly as if waiting for a response.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, his voice low and malicious. “Nothing to say?”
Alicia picked up the lock again, turning the second number to two and then looked up as Ronan whistled quietly under his breath, glancing back at the examination room door. She swallowed hard as she looked through the frosted front window, her mind racing towards the three feet of hallway that separated her from the elevator and then set the lock back down carefully as Ronan smirked at her, giving her a wink as he coiled his left hand around the bar closest to him.
She swallowed hard as Ronan beckoned to her with a curl of his fingers, watching her lips carefully as he drummed them against the bar.
“That’s better,” he said, ducking his head down to meet her gaze. “And not all that different from what you’re used to, is it? No. I don’t think so.”
She jerked away from him as he tried to snag her collar with one hand and Ronan let out a low noise of displeasure as his eyes blinked quickly for a moment, his face darkening as he leaned back on his heels.
“Come over here, Holly,” he said, his voice almost a caress as he tapped his fingers against the metal. “Right now. I’m not going to ask nicely again.”
Alicia met his gaze, her pulse quickening as he saw that he wasn’t even watching her face anymore, his dark eyes shifting over her open legs with a patient sort of violence. She started to say something smart, she wasn’t sure what, and then froze as his dark eyes snapped to her face, her throat going dry beneath the soft, malice-filled pull of his gaze. She moved towards him before she realized she was going to, her nipples hardening as he dropped his gaze to her chest and then crouched down slightly as he tapped the bar with his fingertips, his expression filling with an amused sort of gratification as she curled her fingers next to his on the cage.
Alicia felt every survival instinct inside her scatter and take flight as Ronan wrapped his fingers around the smooth line of her jaw, dragging her towards the front of the cage as he leaned forward to meet her.
“That’s good, Holly,” he said his handsome, chiseled face suddenly so savage and hungry she felt her heart leap into her throat. “Just that easy.”
Alicia felt her entire body sigh forward as his eyes darted over her lips and he watched her with a curiosity that was almost gentle as he dug his fingers into her skin, shaking his head slightly as he raised his brows at her.
“I’m going to need you to say it,” he said, his voice beginning to unfurl with violence as he brushed his fingers over the curve of her lip. “Yes or no, Holly? What’s it going to be?”
Alicia closed her eyes as Ronan leaned so close she could feel his breath whisper across her collarbone.
“Yes,” she sighed. “I know the deal. I’ll stay.”
“Good,” he said, tilting his head as he let her go. “Now turn around.”
Alicia’s felt her eyes fly open as his face shifted with hunger and slid against the cage as she turned around slowly, the narrow width of the metal floor forcing her hips back against the bars as she curled her fingers around the opposite side. She made a low noise of surprise as she felt Ronan shove his fingers through the opening and shivered as he slid his hand between her legs, rubbed his fingers against her open cunt for a moment before sliding them inside her.
Alicia swallowed hard as he penetrated her roughly and then pressed her hips lower as he brushed against her clit, her hips moving against the smooth drag of his fingers in spite of herself as she gripped the cage tighter. Her brow furrowed as she felt him move closer, rubbing her clit with quick, thoughtless urgency and she let out a low cry as she felt Ronan press his lips against her, dragging his tongue up the wet line of her cunt and into her open ass.
Alicia entire body shuddered as he rolled his tongue around the rim of her ass slowly, the shock of it making her entire body stiffen with excitement and moaned as his fingers slid over her clit in smooth, rough circles, her forehead sighing against the bars as she pressed her hips towards him. She felt her entire body quake as he dug his tongue inside her, her inability to shift away from him making all of her nerves jump beneath the restless trail of his touch and cried out suddenly as he slid his finger into the rough well of her ass, pumping it in and out slowly as he pressed his other hand between her legs.
Alicia felt her lips sigh open as Ronan fingered her roughly, hating herself a little for the sudden desperate mutiny of all her better instincts and pressed her face against the bars as he rolled his fingers over her clit, the bars pressing into her skin as he slid closer to her cage.
“Please…” she said, her voice low and strained as he rubbed her with quick, thoughtless urgency and bit back a low cry of pain as she felt him spread her ass wider, moving his fingers in and out of her smoothly as she felt him slide to his knees behind her.
“Please what, Alicia?” Ronan asked, his voice low and controlled. “Please what? Go ahead. Tell me what you want.”
Alicia bit her lip as she heard the smooth pulse of unhealthy hunger dancing just below the careful twist of his caress and glanced back at him as she twitched her knees wider, his dark eyes snapping to her open cunt as she let the bars spread her open.
“Please fuck me,” she said, her voice sweet and rushed as she heard his quick intake of breath behind her. “Please. I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll be good…”
She cried out suddenly as he rubbed her cunt roughly, dragging his fingers out of her ass and then her eyes flew open as she felt him rub his thick cock against her, his hands digging into her hips as he dragged her backwards.
She cried out as Ronan shoved his cock inside her and felt her hands slide away from the bars as he pumped in and out of her quickly, her excitement escalating wildly as he used the crammed space of the cage against her.
“Harder,” she sighed, the words flying out of her mouth before she knew she had spoken. “Fuck me harder. I’ll be good, I’ll be good, I’ll be good…”
“I know you will,” Ronan said pressing his hand between the bars as he pressed her hips lower, the angle wedging her back against the bars as he slid out of her slowly. “I do. I’m going to make sure that you are. Now just a little closer. That’s it. Just like that. Don’t move until I tell you.”
Alicia cried out as Ronan buried his cock into the tight well of her ass, the stiff angle of her body turning it into a quick, violent jolt of pain. She shifted on her knees slightly as her pulse took a quick upwards spike and then clawed at the bars near the floor as he pumped himself inside her with hard, thoughtless violence. She cried out again as he pushed his hand through the bars, shoving her hips lower as he forced himself deeper and began to feel the pain change into something else, the unavoidable submission to his will beginning to work over her like some sort of opiate.
“Like that,” she whispered, pumping her hips back towards him as her excitement began to crest her humiliation, stripping her down to simple, hungry instinct as she felt his body slide against her. “Just like that. Don’t stop, don’t stop…”
“That’s a good girl,” Ronan said behind her, his voice so low and guttural she had to struggle to make it out. “You like being used, don’t
you? Tell me that you do.”
“I like it,” she said, moaning under her breath as she pressed her hips back towards him, her breath escaping her throat as he shoved his cock inside her. “I like when you use me. I do. I like it, I like it…”
Alicia cried out suddenly as she heard Ronan moan behind her and pressed her forehead against the bars as he pulsed inside her quickly, quaking to a sudden, desperate orgasm as she felt him come inside her.
Alicia panted against the floor of her cage as Ronan pulled away from her and followed him with her eyes as she heard him stand up, her heart hammering in her chest so rapidly she could hear the dull thrum of her heartbeat beneath her temples. She crawled away from the bars slowly as Ronan picked up his button-down shirt with one hand and then shrugged it on casually as her eyes swept over his body, her desire for him so raw and unshakeable she felt a brilliant wave of hatred pivot in his direction.
Ronan grabbed his whip up off the floor, tossing it towards the chair as he stepped over to the long metal examination table and Alicia inhaled quickly as he walked over an unopened bottle of water, whistling under his breath as he shoved it through the bars and let it drop. Alicia yanked her legs into her chest as the bottle rolled against them and felt a hard knot of bitterness rise in her throat as he shook out his cuffs, buttoning his shirt up casually as he headed for the door.
“This game of yours,” Alicia said, her voice sounding low and strained to her own ears as Ronan paused at the end of the room. “How long do you expect it to last?”
Ronan turned at the threshold and raised his brows as he swung the door open, the lights from the hallway throwing his vicious, too handsome face into sudden shadow.
“As long as I want it to, Holly. The same as everything else. But like I said before, feel free to quit anytime you want. I’d hate to stand in the way of your next. Big. Break.”
Alicia looked out into the hallway beyond him, her freedom less than a room’s length away and slid back against the bars as Ronan smirked at her, giving her a wink as he reached for the handle.
“Have a pleasant evening,” he said, his voice crisp with amusement as he swung the steel door shut behind him.
Chapter Fifteen
Michael looked up as Byron entered the guest room and then looked back down at the suitcase half-packed on the edge of his bed, picking up one of the pistols lying next to it before tucking it neatly into one satin-lined corner. Byron watched him pick up one of two silencers, barely glancing at them as he placed them into a small cubby next to the pistol and then zipped the compartment up with a turn of one arm and reached for a neat stack of folded dress shirts on the night stand.
A creature of habit, he thought, sighing quietly as Michael continued to ignore him, the absolute absence of emotion on his face his only reliable proof that he was troubled at all. Just like his father, he thought. Just like us all.
“Is that the lined one?” Byron asked, setting down a cup of tea on the dresser as Michael glanced in his direction.
“No. I won’t be needing that one,” he said walking into the adjoining bathroom. “No metal detectors.”
Byron wandered over to the long door wall of windows facing the river and yanked the blinds open with a careless tug of one hand, his spirits raising as he saw that the snow had bleached the city a sudden brilliant white, the early morning sunshine shimmering across the surface in waves of yellow-orange. He glanced over his shoulder as Michael tossed his small leather case of toiletries into the bag and felt his mouth pull down into a frown as he paused, glancing around the room as if he had forgotten something.
“You’re leaving then?”
Michael looked up at Byron and then smiled slightly as he reached for his jacket, his clear blue eyes lighting up with a moment of touched amusement.
“You must be getting tired of me by now, Byron.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
Michael’s face hardened, and he turned to adjust his collar in the mirror, the morning light dancing across his face in a hazy gold halo.
“I have to get to the doctor before he does. You know that.”
“And what will you do when you find him?”
“Has the situation left me any choice?”
“You tell me.”
“No, Byron,” he said, closing the suitcase with a sudden shove of his hands, the expensive leather body springing up on the bed as he let it go. “You tell me. Isn’t that the cardinal rule of containment? The one you drummed into my head for years and years? Hmm? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten all the sacred tenants of our profession so quickly.”
Byron bit back a rueful smile and then cleared his throat as Michael pulled out his leather gloves, pulling them on in the mirror.
“Never let a witness dictate the terms of war. Especially if he has information that can compromise you.’”
“Yes,” Michael said swinging the suitcase to the floor. “Exactly right. So don’t look so surprised. I’m going to start thinking you’ve gone soft on me.”
Byron turned to look at him as Michael checked his wallet and then walked over to the dresser, pulling out the top second drawer as he held up his hand.
“Wait, I have something for you.”
“Byron, I really don’t have time this morning.”
“Just a moment. Here. Take it. I meant to return it years ago, but…”
He shrugged as he held out a heavy silver wrist watch to him, the black onyx face catching the sunlight as it turned. Michael looked down at it, his brow furrowing and then leaned in for a closer look without thinking, his eyes widening in a rare moment of surprise.
“Where did you get that?” He asked, his expression slamming shut like a well-guarded vault as Byron gave him a small smile.
“As I said. I’ve had it for years.”
Michael’s eyes darted over it hungrily for a moment, something quick and vulnerable flickering behind his jaded expression and then shrugged without reaching for it.
“Keep it,” he said stiffly as he buttoned his jacket. “I’m sure my father would’ve wanted you to have it.”
“No. He would’ve wanted you to have it.”
Michael looked down at it again, his face lighting up into a short bitter smile and then took the watch from his hand, turning it over in his palm curiously as if he had never seen it before.
“If you knew the story behind this watch, you’d know why I didn’t want it.”
“Because it reminds you of him?’”
“Oh yes,” Michael said, setting it down on the dresser. “In all the wrong ways.”
Michael met Byron’s eyes in the mirror as he stayed silent and then shrugged and turned around, walking over to the nightstand as he picked up a pair of silver cuff links.
“You remember when we were all living in Dubai, don’t you?”
“Of course I do. It was a beautiful place. I was sorry to leave it.”
“Yes, it was. Not that I noticed back then. I was just a privileged American kid trying to fit in with the crowd. There was this one group of boys, older than me, I’m sure you wouldn’t remember. But they made life there very- difficult for me. For a while. I suppose it wouldn’t have been so bad if they had ever been willing to fight me one on one. But boys that age always seem to prefer the safety of numbers. Don’t ask me why.”
Byron watched Michael’s eyes dance towards the watch without thinking, not quite allowing himself to reach for it as if it was filled with a poison he wasn’t sure he was inoculated against.
“Cowards are the same at any age, Michael,” Byron said, raising his brows. “They barely exist without a crowd of weaker men to cheer them on.”
“Yes, that’s true. But still not much help to the eleven-year-old boy getting beat up on the walk home from school day after day. One day I took that watch to school with me. I’m not sure why. I think I was still hoping to impress them. And on the way home they beat me within an inch of my
life and took it from me. I still remember the look on Dad’s face when I told him about it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him more ashamed of anything. Or anyone.”
“I’m sure that isn’t at all how he felt, Michael. Your father was not very good at expressing any emotion. And after your mother died it only got worse.”
Michael nodded, his smooth, beautiful face twisting with bitterness as he shoved his hands into his pockets.
“You know I’d almost believe you, Byron. I would. Except that he made me go back and fight them for it. He told me not to bother to come home until I did.”
“And did you?”
“I did.”
“And you beat them all.”
“Well I didn’t really have much of a choice now did I? To this day I still remember the way the last one looked at me. I hit him over and over and over. But it was never his face I was seeing. And needless to say, after that my time in Dubai got a whole lot easier.”
“But you won,” Byron said gently, watching Michael twist the left finger of his hand as if twirling a wedding ring that was no longer there. “Maybe that was the lesson your father wanted you to take away from what had happened. That sometimes you must fight. Even against your very nature.”
Michael laughed shortly and took a quick drink of tea, setting it down with a restless clatter as he met Byron’s eyes across the floor.
“He didn’t want to teach me anything, Byron. He was a bitter, violent guy who couldn’t stand the idea of his son not measuring up to his impossible standards. That’s why he sent me after the watch. And that’s why you’re welcome to it.”
Byron cleared his throat and walked over to the dresser, picking the watch as he examined it in the light.
“I’m not sure you knew your father as well as you thought you did.”
“Yes, well. I’m sure he was a very reliable killer, Byron. It was just everything else he fell a little short on.”
Byron glanced at him out of the corner of his eye as he set the watch down on the dresser, watching Michael shrug on his black overcoat with a sudden pang of premonition.