We went for the booze first, pressing into local bars and getting treated like a regular, even where we weren’t. He clapped backs and shouted greetings, me always one step behind him, eyes and ears alert. News of our success preceded us or Vincent shared it along the way. People were happy for him, he was an up-and-comer, one to keep-an-eye-on, had beginner’s-luck, or was a smug-asshole, depending on who I overheard.
I watched their faces as Vincent became more inebriated, coming in and out of bathrooms with a powdered nose. While half of them were genuinely happy for him, the other half smiled with just their eyes, their mouths giving way to jealousy. I made sure to stand close -- I knew from my time as a fighter that the only thing more enjoyable than watching someone charismatic succeed was watching their subsequent downfall.
“Drink some,” Vincent begged, by the third bar. He was swaying a little, eyes bright.
I shook my head. I had to stay straight, for his sake. “Maybe back at the condo, Sir,” I said.
“Vincent,” he corrected, like I didn’t know his name. Two men he knew approached him with exclamations and clapping hugs, and one of them mentioned his cousin’s strip club. A minute after that I was fetching the car.
The club was just about to close when we got there, but between the relative’s connection, the men’s suits, and Vincent’s bankroll, the club stayed open just for the three of them.
Soon Vincent and his friends each had a half-dressed woman on their lap, with others lounging seductively nearby. Unfortunately they hadn’t sent the DJ home yet either, so the bass of the club was unrelenting, each thump making my listening wolf whine in pain.
“Not even now?” Vincent asked, lolling his head back, trying to shove a blonde woman at me.
Chemicals, my wolf hissed. The scent of sweat and arousal in here was good – the scent of cherry body lotion was not. “No, thank you,” I said, gently pushing her back to the throng.
“Your loss,” Vincent said, as one of the others took the stage to perform.
Everyone was quiet, watching her rhythmic dancing. She was the kind of woman sometimes I’d luck into after a fight, one so turned on by the spectacle that she’d forget where she was or that I was poor – and the way she moved, my wolf could overlook the cherries. Three months was a tortuously long time to be celibate – especially when you were living with a man you wanted to fuck.
“See what you’re missing?” Vincent asked, looking back up at me. I flushed, and he laughed. “Come on ladies – it’s time for us to go home.”
Vincent’s announcement was met with Awwwww’s, and, don’t go yet!’s but he ignored them and looked at me. “Get the car.”
I surveyed the room one last time for safety’s sake, then left to do as I was told.
The valet they had let go. I grabbed our keyring and went out into the streets, canvassing until I found where he’d parked our car earlier, and came back. When I got back into the club, most of the girls were gone, and so was he.
“Where’s V?” I asked the blonde with a big bag tucked under her arm.
“He’s taking a piss,” she said, checking her make-up out in a compact mirror. She was clothed now, in a blue-sequined dress, and between that and her long blonde hair she looked like half a mermaid.
The brunette who’d been on Vincent’s lap was off talking to a guy – the owner of the club? – whose eyes narrowed when he looked at me. The music hadn’t stopped yet, so I couldn’t hear what they were saying.
Vincent emerged from the bathroom and swooped forward, putting an arm around the blonde. The brunette trotted over on impossible heels to catch up – my wolf saw broken ankles and easy kill! and I had to push it down to make it shut up – until she took her place on Vincent’s other side.
“Follow this man, ladies – he’ll never lead you astray,” Vincent said, stumbling forward while pointing at me. I held the doors of the club open for all of them, then helped them into the backseat of the waiting car.
I pretended not to notice or care what they did on the way to the condo, even though there was no way not to hear the sound of their kisses, their moans, and smell the scents of their arousal. My heart beat low inside my chest, my wolf jealous, wanting the feel of skin, any skin.
I let all of them out of the backseat, and herded them toward the elevator. Vincent gave me a look over their heads as they lounged on him, groping at his chest, kissing his neck, all of them leaning against the wall.
“You sure?” he asked me, mouthing the words.
I nodded and looked away, until the elevator found our floor.
He unlocked the condo and went with them into his bedroom, and I sat on the couch, listening.
It wasn’t the first night I’d spent like this, and it wouldn’t be the last. Why was I here? Why did I torment myself like this? The money was good, but I didn’t need money, I knew how to get by without it. I could always fight again if I had to, or just live off the land as a wolf – a full wolf’s belly was just as good as a full human one.
The door unlocked, and Vincent emerged. He was naked from the waist up, and I could see lipstick marks on his neck like bloody bites as he walked over to the bar.
“Are you completely sure you don’t want one of them?”
I shook my head. “I’m fine.”
He sighed and contemplated me, drink in hand. “You’ve got to learn how to celebrate more, Max. How to lose control every once in a while. Otherwise everything’s going to build up in you and someday you’ll explode.”
He set his drink down and began making two more. “You could take her to your own room, you know,” he said, as I stood to help him carry the other drinks back. He smelled so good, the scent I’d become accustomed to while living with him, his musk and a hint of his aftershave. The stripper was right to have kissed his neck, if our situations were reversed I would have started there too and then gone lower, fast --
Vincent looked at me as though I’d been considering his offer. I quickly shook my head again. “Not tonight. Thank you.”
“Your loss, Max,” he said, his voice quiet, putting his drink inside the bedroom, and then taking the other two from me quickly, and closing the door.
I went back to my vigil on the couch, listening to them fuck, trying to ignore my erection.
Twenty minutes later I stood up. I was going to go take a shower and jerk off with the remnants of my dignity – that way I’d be done and dry before the strippers needed rides.
The bathroom smelled like him, which didn’t help. His shaving cream, his cologne. I pulled my shirt off and put it beside the sink. In the mirror I could see down to my hips. So many scars I’d gotten, fighting other weres. A full set of wolf-teeth marked my arm, and five gouges streaked across my stomach, where Syd had been half a pound of pressure away from disemboweling me.
Other weres hadn’t come of age and sometimes looked for dicks to suck. What I was was an aberration – no matter how many of the older pack members had furtively fucked me, before I was kicked out. I had to abide by their rules still – but none of them could stand to be around me.
Which left me to take care of myself. Like always. I rested one hand on the belt of my pants and was reaching the other one down to cup my balls when I heard the distinctive sound of a gun being unholstered in the hallway outside. I had one second to dive to the ground before they shot the handle off the front door.
The women screamed and I prayed that the alcohol had made Vincent slow, as one of the men outside walked in. I waited until the last moment before throwing myself against the loose door on him with wolf-strength. He dropped instantly with a concussion and a bleeding broken nose – and the next man in the hall shouted in surprise. I took a risk and leapt for him, getting too close too fast for him to use the gun, and reached for his throat, breaking his windpipe with one hand. A second later Vincent was in the hall, naked, except for a Steyr TMP.
“What the hell?” he said, surveying the situation, gun ready.
“Grab the g
irls’ phones – someone told these idiots you were home and occupied.” I bent over to grab one ankle of each man and dragged both of them into the condo.
Vincent left to do as I said and I heard screams of protest from the other room. He returned with pants on, hauling the brunette out.
“Who’d you tell?” he said, holding her phone.
“I can’t tell you –“ she said, squirming in his arms. She looked even more like prey in that moment, her eyes wild. My wolf salivated, wanting to see her try to run.
“You do realize that those men were going to kill you, too, don’t you?” I told her. As the only sober person in the room, my voice had some authority. “Whoever planned this wasn’t going to leave witnesses.”
She shook her head and her eyes went even wider. Vincent hugged her close. “Tell me who planned it and I let you go. Don’t, and I keep you here overnight, and say you tipped me off.”
I looked over to him as she gasped. Even intoxicated, my alpha was in control.
“It was Jimmy -- but you can’t tell him I told you –“ she turned in his arms, from escaping to clinging. “You have to give me some money, help me to run.”
Vincent shrugged, cold. “You don’t deserve anything, after selling me out. Go –“ he pointed towards the broken door.
“But –“ she whined.
“If you talk to me again I’ll have Max kill you.”
She looked over at me – and at the bodies on the floor, downed by my hand. That’s right. I’m the the big bad wolf. Furiously pissed but more frightened, she took off with just the clothing on her back. Vincent watched her go then turned to me. “Give the other girl a couple of hundred, and get her out. I need to make some calls.”
I got the money out of Vincent’s petty cash drawer and rousted the blonde, who was too high or drunk to care. By the time I’d gotten her to the elevator and back, Vincent was done.
I knew he had bosses who had bosses, and he himself had men beneath him, other soldiers -- they gave me curt nods when our paths overlapped. What I didn’t know was that there was a cavalry for situations just like this -- within thirty minutes, our penthouse was like an Amish barn raising. People showed up to change the door, clean the floor, take the one body away to dispose of, take the other man in to interrogate, and threaten or bribe neighbors on other floors into silence. Thirty minutes after that, Vincent and I were alone again.
He was sober now and I noticed he hadn’t shared the information the brunette had given him with the boss or the workerbees that’d shown up. I knew from living with him that his revenge would be personal – and hoped I’d be lucky enough to get involved in it.
He was sitting on his couch much as I had earlier, elbows on knees, his head in his hands.
I went to the bar and made him a drink, the last of his whiskey and two ice cubes, the way I knew he liked it. “You’ll have to move now.”
“I know,” he said, taking the drink from my hand.
It wasn’t that where he lived was a secret, but there were too many neighbors here – and not enough brick to catch stray bullets.
“This is not how I thought things were going to go. Tonight was going to be my night.” He rocked back into the couch and looked up at me, giving me a sly smile without taking a sip of his drink.
“I’m sorry your celebrations were interrupted.”
He shrugged one shoulder, still eyeing me. “They hadn’t really started yet.”
It was times like these that made working for him worthwhile – when my wolf’s tail beat in hope -- until I caught myself and realized that I was just projecting, and reality dashed me against the rocks.
“You knew there’d be trouble tonight. And –“ he hoisted his drink up in a kind of a toast. “You know me better than I know myself.”
“Sir,” I said, looking away.
“Vincent,” he corrected softly. “You’re so obedient, Max. Sometimes I get the idea I could ask you to do anything.”
My stomach tensed and my chest started to rise. If there was ever a time to be brave, to tell him the truth about me, this was it.
“You could, if you wanted to, Vincent,” I said, without daring to look up.
He made a thoughtful sound and I waited. For him to throw me out, for him to yell, for him to laugh it off, brush it under the rug and blame too much to drink.
When he didn’t I let my gaze rise, from his feet to his chest to his face, where he was watching me with his dark eyes. He slid one hand to rest between his open legs.
“Come here and suck my cock, Max.”
I fell to all fours and crawled over to him, to do as I was told.
And from then on all of his celebrating took place in private -- with me.
#
I woke to discover the prior night had not been a dream – I had indeed come home with a strange woman – and we had fucked, I could still smell it in the air. More than that, I could smell him.
No wonder I’d dreamed of him last night. My erection was still straining. God. Even after all this time. I stood up quietly, walking over to her. She smelled so like him – I leaned over and breathed her in, the scent making my heart and balls ache. I quickly went outside, locking the door behind me.
I leaned against one of the timbers supporting the porch. I’d been living like a hermit, and now, after last night – it was like a genie’d been released. My wolf rose up in me with needs – there was no way I could hunt like this, not when I wanted to fuck so badly. I opened up my jeans and pushed them down to reach for myself, imagining it was Vincent’s hand, not mine, stroking me. The way he’d reach down during sex, to finish me off, the nights with his hands, his mouth, his tongue – I gasped, shooting my load out, taking a step forward, falling into the past, for a man who wasn’t there. I sagged against the timber and collected myself. I just – had to keep her safe – I just – needed to run and hunt.
I stumbled towards the treeline, and the freedom of four legs.
Chapter Five
I sat up in bed when I heard the door close and it all came rushing back. I was here in Redneckania alone – for real, because Max wasn’t on the couch. Maybe he had to pee or something. Or go out to get us bagels. I sighed.
How long could I keep this up, not telling him what’d happened? Another day or two at most. He had a truck, he could go into town, Vincent’s death would have made the newspaper at least. Just because he lived in the middle of nowhere didn’t mean he was dumb.
And then what? I leaned over the bed and looked to where I’d stashed my bag underneath. Maybe a few days were all I needed to get away safely. Ask him to drive me to an airport, bribe him with a bundle of twenties or a blowjob. I curled up on the uncomfortable mattress, knees under my chin.
I saw a movement out of the corner of my eye, through one of the windows. I crawled over carefully and peered out. He was outside. Just standing there, leaning – oh ho ho.
Taking care of himself. I recognized the hand movements.
I bet he had to do that a lot out here. Probably fucked the holes of trees for fun. I watched him shamelessly, getting to see what I hadn’t last night, the length and girth of him as he worked himself over. Last night had been good…on the scale of things to distract me from my newly dead boyfriend. I closed my eyes and put my head against the windowpane. The next time I opened them, he was gone.
Good. I stood up and stretched, and went for the front door. I’d walk around outside some, get back into touch with nature, pretend I was at some sort of spa. I grabbed the handle and turned – and it wouldn’t give. What?
“Hey – hey!” I rattled it back and forth in its frame. The bastard had locked me in. “Hey!” I slammed a fist into my side of the door. Why did he do that? Was he already selling me out?
“Let me the fuck out of here!” I shouted. No one came in response.
I spent what felt like an eternity with my legs crossed. When he came back, I shoved my way out the door and ran to the outhouse – and when I came back, I
made sure to stand on the porch and not go inside.
“Where were you? I had to pee so bad I almost died.”
“I left you a bucket,” he said, pointing to one side.
“Are you kidding me?” His expression said that he was not. “Why the hell did you lock me in?”
“To protect you.”
“From what?”
“Bears. Mountain lions.”
His face was so serious, I was inclined to believe him, even though I was still royally pissed off.
“No tigers?” I suggested, sarcastically. His eyebrows rose. “You know? From the Wizard of Oz? Lions and tigers and bears, oh my?”
He shook his head. “No. This is dangerous country.”
I crossed my arms, unwilling to forgive him. “So where were you?”
“Hunting.”
I looked at him. “With just…you? No gun, no bow and arrows?”
He shrugged. “Yeah.”
“Did it work?”
“No,” he said, shrugging again.
I calmed down slowly. If he’d sold me out, the Carminos would have been here already, three hours was more than enough time. I didn’t believe anything else about him further than I could throw him, though.
“Is there someplace in this godforsaken forest that I can take a bath?” I felt dirty after last night – I wanted to wash everything away.
“There’s a creek. I can take you there.”
“Good.”
I followed him down the ridge in my robe and shoes. Even though it was almost noon, birds were still chirping overhead, and squirrels were jumping from branch to branch. Fat rabbits raced away in the underbrush, and we startled a deer with a doe, pausing to watch them both leap away. All this exuberant ‘nature’ made me feel like a low rent Snow White.
The cabin was over a creek, if you walked far enough out in a straight line. And some person had dammed a portion of it, creating a little watering hole that was lined with rushes on one side. I stood at the edge of this, my hand on my robe’s tie, and looked to him.
The Hunted (Sleeping With Monsters Book 2) Page 5