by J. D. Sloane
“Something I can do you for, Jaxson?” he asked, his voice suddenly curt and annoyed.
Jaxson paused, hiding the way Ronan’s swift changes of temper worried him out of long force of habit and hooked his thumb towards the open double doors, his mouth curling up a little as Ronan raised his brows in his direction.
“We have company downstairs.”
“Oh? And who might that be?”
“Let’s just say it’s a friend of a friend. One who might help us if he was feeling so inclined.”
Ronan’s eyes narrowed and then he shrugged and got up from the table, his face as unreadable as ever was behind his mask of polite half-interest. Jaxson stepped aside for Ronan to step into the hallway and then fell into step beside him as they headed for the elevators.
“You know I was just about to call down,” Ronan said glancing towards the dark panel of floor numbers as they stepped inside the carriage. “You’re sliding in about thirty minutes below the wire. Not that I mind a photo finish.”
“Getting worried?” Jaxson asked, leaning forward to hit the down button.
Ronan’s lips twitched, and Jaxson felt that uncomfortable clench in the bottom of his gut when Ronan rolled his eyes in his direction, his ruined face so relaxed it was almost friendly.
“Not worried, no. Worried wouldn’t be the word I would use.”
Ronan whistled tunelessly as the elevator started moving and Jaxson tried not shift on his feet as he patted down his gray tailored jacket as if looking for a knife. It was the sort of thing he said that always made Jaxson feel like he didn’t really know the man at all. As if everything he had seen out of him before was just an off the cuff warm-up act before he finally decided to raise the curtains and take the stage.
I doubt even Brooke knew for certain whether or not he was really angry, Jaxson thought as the carriage rolled to a lurching halt. He’s the kind of guy who would smile with you right up until the moment he slipped the knife between your ribs and popped your lungs like a water balloon. And maybe for a little while after that. If I’m being completely honest about it.
They stepped out into the hallway as the doors slid open and Ronan looked both ways down the corridor and then headed for the lit room at one end, picking up the pace as they headed for one of the large, empty storage rooms at the end of the hallway. His wide dark eyes began to twirl with whatever passed for delight in his world as they turned the corner and he let out a short laugh as they reached the doorway, the sound echoing around the cracked tile walls until it seemed like it was coming from everywhere at once. He looked over the well-dressed man tied to a chair in the middle of the room from the threshold, smirking as he noticed the burlap sack over his head and then walked across the open space slowly, his movements suddenly smooth and unrushed.
Ronan stepped in front of the man as he heard him take a swift intake of breath and then yanked the burlap sack off, his wild eyes so bright and engaged they seemed to give off an electricity all their own.
“Well good morning,” Ronan said tossing the sack to one side as the man coughed deeply and then raised his head, his brown eyes shifting to Jaxson’s face quickly before drifting back to Ronan’s. “Welcome to our humble little camp. Oh, don’t mind all this. We’re kind of understaffed right now. Launching a world class criminal enterprise from the ground up can be a bit of a grind.”
Ronan leaned over him, cocking his head to one side as Byron let out a deep breath, the left side of his face ripe with bruises.
“Not that I have to tell you,” he said, giving him a wink as he stepped behind his chair.
“This is Byron,” Jaxson said, rolling his shoulders slightly as Byron followed Ronan with his eyes. “The friend of a friend I was telling you about.”
Byron watched him pace around his chair as far as he could and then looked forward again, his face twitching slightly as Ronan stepped behind him.
“Ah,” Ronan said, his face lighting up with a moment of polite recognition as Byron grit his teeth. “You mean the city’s- what did they call him again- The Dark Angel? The one with the hero complex? Has a thing for damsels. In. Distress?”
“Archangel,” Jaxson said as Ronan glanced in his direction. He paused as he Ronan bit back a light sneer and then turned it into a friendly grin as he stepped in front of Byron’s chair again.
“Oh, that’s right,” Ronan said, leaning over him as Byron rolled his eyes up to meet him, his fingers shifting in their restraints as he stayed silent. “The Archangel. I almost forgot.”
Ronan looked over him slowly for a moment and then raised his brows, his pale, handsome face flickering with amusement.
“So who are you supposed to be? His butler?”
“Oh, Byron and your guy go way, way back,” Jaxson said, his eyes narrowing as Byron’s eyes remained fixed on Ronan’s, as if committing it to memory.
“Don’t be rude, Jaxson,” Ronan said, glancing over his shoulder at him. “Let Byron here speak for himself.”
Byron’s eyes followed Ronan’s hand as he reached into his pocket and Jaxson saw his shoulders sag slightly as he pulled out his knife, its carved black handle slipping into his palm like a smooth, well-loved sheath.
“So tell me, Byron,” Ronan said, crouching down in front of his chair until they were eye to eye. “Do you know him? Because I’d love an introduction. I really would. Feel free to start with his full name and address.”
“You can ask him yourself soon enough,” Byron said, his jaw clenching as Ronan raised his brows. “If you think he won’t for come for you, that you’re safe here, you don’t deserve even half of your reputation.”
Ronan face quaked with a moment of uncontrolled violence and then Jaxson saw him reign it in casually, cocking his neck lightly to one side as if working out some ancient kink.
“Got me there, Byron. There are a lot of misconceptions out there about me and what we’re doing here. I blame the media, to be honest. What do you say we try to get to the bottom of it together, hmm? How does that sound? A little good old-fashioned public confession to set the souls to right. Jaxson, would you mind setting the cameras up? Just the front ones. We won’t be needing a second angle.”
“You think killing me on camera will make some sort of statement? Make you seem like less of a criminal?”
Ronan shrugged and then pocketed his knife and walked around to the back of Byron’s chair, propping it up on two legs as he began to drag it towards the back wall.
“You have me all wrong, Byron. I’m not trying to convince the world I’m not a criminal. I just want what’s mine.”
Byron licked his lips and looked around quickly as Ronan let go on his chair, the legs slamming back to the floor with a rocking thud.
“And what makes you think she would come back to you?” Byron said as Ronan walked behind him. “Even if she could? Even if she is still alive?”
Ronan stepped in front of Byron smoothly and he flinched as Ronan leaned towards him with the first unmasked emotion he had seen stamped across his face, his lips twitching with a rage so deep and unhealthy it had almost blurred back into compassion.
“Everything,” he said, dropping his head until their faces were inches apart. “Everything makes me think it. Which is why I brought you here, Byron. You see, I couldn’t care less about your crisis of conscience. You’re going to tell me where she is. And then you’re going to die helpless and alone in an empty room while those who care about you most rush to save you.”
Byron eyes widened as Ronan’s eyes twirled wildly for a moment and then went flat again as if someone had simply stepped into the room and put out a light. He swallowed hard as Ronan patted his cheek, the edges of his lips curling up into a cool, violent grin.
“But they won’t. You see? No higher statement. Because what I’m doing doesn’t need a statement, Byron. There is nothing more instinctive in all of human nature than to kill the man who tried to murder your wife. Morals trump ethics ever
y time. And if you think they don’t then hold on tight. Let’s see how many decent citizens out there tune in to watch you die.”
Ronan opened his eyes slowly and glanced above him as he felt his detached sense of euphoria evaporate little by little, blinking at the ceiling above him while he tried to hold on to the strange string of dreams he had been having, each one less connected to reality than the last. He licked his bottom lip, turning his head slightly to one side as he opened his eyes wider and then blinked heavily as he saw that a girl was standing in front of the windows, the white snowfall outside reducing her to a blurry gray outline.
Ronan watched her raise her fingers to her lips, one moment of ferocious longing tearing through his calm detachment as he saw that she was smoking and then opened his eyes wider as she tipped her ashes onto the floor, glancing over her shoulder at him.
Not Brooke then, he thought, controlling his disappointment as Alicia turned around to face him, her bright red hair sliding beneath her chin as she took another drag. Not Brooke but soon, soon, soon…
“You’ve been out for a while,” she said without moving closer, her cigarette smoke creating a soft halo of smoke around her hair. “I was beginning to worry.”
Ronan cleared his throat, closing his eyes as he shifted his shoulders and then felt his brow furrow as he realized that his arm was asleep above him, his neck feeling stiff and swollen.
“I thought I told you not to speak today,” he said, running his tongue over his lips again as the first jolt of discomfort hit him between the shoulder blades. He made a face of annoyance as realized that he was finding it hard to move his arm and tried his other one instead, the calm wave of peace which had carried him away earlier returning him to the shore in a series of choppy jerks and pulls.
“Yeah,” she said, stamping out her cigarette on the edge of the windowsill. “About that. I thought we’d try something different today. Switch things up a little.”
Ronan opened his eyes wider and shifted his left arm impatiently as he realized that it was asleep too. He turned his neck as he heard something scrape against the floor, the soft whisper crack of movement so strange and familiar that he tried to sit up a little farther and then stopped as his wrist suddenly caught on something behind him. He looked over his head quickly, the pleasant haze of twilight receding from his mind in a sudden violent wave and felt his eyes widen with surprise as he saw that both of hands were chained to the headboard above him and that his legs were fastened to either side of the baseboard with what looked like some kind of rope.
Ronan felt his surprise turn to annoyance as Alicia stepped out of the shadows, smiling at him slightly as she stretched her arms above her. He looked over her body rapidly, a rush of infuriating hunger tearing through him when he saw that she was wearing a sheer lace corset he had never seen before, the sharp black boning outlining her thin girlish figure until it was all he could focus on. He let his eyes drift up to her face, looking over her bright red mouth greedily for a moment and then paused as Alicia moved her hand next to her leg, the sudden crack of a whip bringing him to full attention.
“You know, I actually enjoyed your games more than I thought I would, Ronan. You really know how to surprise a girl. Which always keeps things interesting.”
Ronan closed his eyes, his mouth pulling into a light sneer as he yanked his right arm sharply against the headboard and felt a brief, subterranean thrill of fear run through him, buried so deeply between hatred and other things he almost didn’t recognize it. He opened them as Alicia paced closer, her eyes so dark and heavily lined he could’ve made them out from across the room and began to feel a rush of cool rage fill in all the hollow places inside him, burning through his disoriented stab of fear like a sudden sonic boom.
“Is this some kind of a joke?” Ronan asked, his gravelly voice low and annoyed as he watched Alicia approach, glancing from the whip to her face slowly.
“What? You think men like you are the only ones in the world who need to blow off steam once in a while? No. No, no, no.”
Ronan felt his teeth clench as Alicia snapped the whip against the floor carelessly, giving him that small smile of triumph that made him want to fuck her through the bars of her cage on her hands and knees until screamed like an animal.
“Girls like me have clubs too, Ronan,” Alicia said, sniffing his glass of vodka curiously before finishing it. “The only difference is, in the ones that I go to they love to hand out party favors.”
Ronan turned his head towards her as she set the glass back down on the nightstand and closed his eyes as he realized that she had drugged him, trying to control the surprise in his face as he felt his rage climb higher.
“Holly, you’re beginning to bore me,” he said his voice so smooth it was almost a caress. “Now take these off right now and I promise I won’t punish you too badly. You’ll barely remember it in a week or two. Sooner if you play along nicely.”
“Oh. You mean like Brooke did?”
Alicia dragged the whip up the length of his body, her eyes following the path of the strap and then ran it between his legs slowly as he shifted his shoulders above him, his pale face tightening with a jolt of barely controlled violence.
“I bet she was the perfect little pet for you, wasn’t she? So sweet. So innocent. So willing to be abused in absolutely every way imaginable.”
Ronan let out a sudden growl of surprise as Alicia brought the whip down across his chest, the shock of it angering him more than the pain had. He jerked his body against the restraints violently, every nerve in his body going electric with a sudden killing rage and then brought himself back under control as Alicia leaned over him, blinking her long eyelashes at him as she gave him a smile.
“How do you like it?” She asked her voice soft and sweet.
Ronan sneered up at her, turning it into a smile at the last minute and then snapped his wrists against the headboard as his face became of mask of bored contempt.
“Is that what this is all about? Hmm? Jealousy? I’m surprised at you, Alicia. And not just a little disappointed.”
“No,” Alicia said walking around the bed slowly as he followed her with his eyes. “Not just jealousy. Although I’ll admit I don’t get it. I don’t. I’m more like you than she ever was. But still you search for her, you dream about her. I hear you, you know. Sometimes you call her name out at night. It’s enough to make me sick.”
Ronan bit back another scream as Alicia brought the whip down across his chest again and looked at her with a sudden wild hatred, his pulse escalating so wildly he could feel it hammering in his temples.
“Is this what passes for revenge in your world, Alicia? Tying a man up and whipping him until he pretends to love you? Is that the best you can do? Because I’ll be honest with you, it doesn’t interest me. Not in the slightest.”
Alicia sat down on the bed, tipping her head towards him as she laid her whip down across his chest and then dragged her hand up his inner thigh, slipping her hands inside his boxers as he closed his eyes.
“Really? Because it doesn’t seem like every part of you feels that way. Tell me what it feels like, Ronan. Tell me what it’s like to have someone turn your own body against you. Just for kicks.”
Ronan let out a quick sigh as he felt her hand close around his cock and felt a confusing rush of hate-laced hunger roll through him in a wave, the feeling so intense he struggled not to come instantly. He felt his brow furrow as she stroked him gently, rolling her fingers around the head of his cock so deftly he gritted his teeth and then slid her hand out of his boxers in a sudden snap, meeting his eyes as she crawled on top of him.
“Do you know that you’ve only kissed me once?” She said, running the tip of her whip inside his mouth until he turned his head. “Why is that? Is that just something you do?”
Ronan turned his head back towards her as she shifted her body above him, his eyes moving over her with sudden interest as she watched his mouth carefully
for a moment.
“Why don’t you come over here so I can,” he said, arching his hips up slightly until his cock brushed against her lace underwear. “Come here. Just a little closer.”
Alicia brow furrowed, and she leaned forwards and then stopped herself, snapping her whip against his neck, as she shoved his chin forward with the tip.
“Ah-Ah. Nice try, though. You don’t really want to kiss me, do you? Right about now I bet you’re thinking about ripping out my throat with your teeth.”
Ronan jerked his head away from her, his face twisting with rage and felt every nerve ending in his body ignite into fury as Alicia slid off of him easily, walking toward the nightstand.
“Alicia, I am not fucking around. Let me out of here right now and I promise not to kill you. That’s all. You’ll leave this room still breathing.”
“No,” Alicia said, picking up a syringe as she flicked it sharply in front of the light. “I don’t think so. I’m still having fun. And trust me, Ronan, you’re about to enjoy this a whole lot more.”
Ronan rolled his eyes towards her as she placed her hand on his thigh, pulling the skin tight as he watched her with an anger so deep it was almost compassion.
“Alicia, I want you to listen to me very closely. If you put that shit into my veins…”
“Then what?” Alicia said, her voice hard and bright as she sunk the needle into the thick muscle of his thigh and depressed the syringe briskly. “You’ll rip the headboard of the bed? Hmm? I don’t think so.”
Ronan let all the air out of his lungs as he watched her drop the syringe on the floor, that strange wave of dark euphoria back before he could stop it. He closed his eyes as the drugs caught ahold of his mind and hooked him deep in the pleasure center, a blend he couldn’t place but which felt a lot like heroin. Heroin cut with something else maybe. Something he had never tried before.
Ronan felt Alicia crawl between his legs and when he opened his eyes to look at her it felt like it took a very long time to do it. He watched with a calm wave of contempt as she dragged his boxers down and licked his bottom lip as she bent over in front of him, sliding her hands up his thighs as her eyes dropped to his cock.