by B. B. Hamel
“Okay,” I said. “Want a drink?”
“No. We need to get going.”
“Going to show me another bombed-out building?”
“No. I’m going to show you where I live.”
That surprised me. “Your safe house?”
“Yes.”
“That’s some serious trust.”
“I’m in this, Wyatt,” she said, stepping toward me. “What do you want after we’re finished with my father?”
I crossed my arms. “I’m not sure.”
“How does Major of Chicago sound?”
I arched an eyebrow. “That sounds pretty good.”
“And after that, Governor of Illinois. And after that? Who knows?”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
“I can give you Chicago, at the very least.”
“That’s over a year away.”
“Which means we have plenty of time to take out my father and anyone else that stands in our way.”
I couldn’t help but grin and shake my head. The girl was so damn confident, I couldn’t resist her charm.
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s go.”
She nodded and headed out. I followed her, keeping up. We rode the elevator downstairs and got into a car driven by another attractive woman. As soon as the doors shut, Louisa turned to me. “Wyatt, this is Kasia.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said.
She nodded, but didn’t answer.
“Kasia is my second. She doesn’t like that we’re bringing you to our safe house.”
“I can understand that,” I said.
“No,” she said simply. “You can’t.”
Louisa gave her a look. “But Kasia trusts me, and is doing as I ask.”
Kasia didn’t answer.
I just smiled and said nothing, knowing better than to get in the middle of an argument.
We drove in strained silence. I could tell Louisa wasn’t happy with Kasia, and vice versa, but that didn’t matter to me. I was far too fascinated to say anything.
We headed into the heart of the city. I had expected them to take me into the suburbs, but clearly we weren’t headed that way. Instead, we were going right into the center of the Barone power structure.
They were hiding right under Arturo’s nose. I had to admit that I loved it, loved the audacity. Louisa probably knew how her father operated better than anyone, and if she thought this was safe, well then it probably was.
Still, I wouldn’t have put my safe house right where Barone was the strongest. We stopped on a boring block in a mediocre neighborhood. Louisa got out and Kasia went to park.
“Here we are,” Louisa said.
“You seriously live here?”
“I seriously live here.” She walked up the stood of a boring-looking row home. She unlocked the door and we stepped inside.
It was just like any other row home I’d ever seen. Living room, kitchen, second floor. There was nobody around, no girls laying, no guns or weapons or bombs. I had expected a bunch of grizzled veterans sitting around drinking beer and smoking, waiting for their time to die, but instead it looked like a regular home.
“This is nice,” I said.
She grinned at me. “Not what you expected?”
“No, not at all.”
“But wait. There’s more.”
We walked upstairs. It looked like any other row home to me, with one big exception: there was an elevator door at the end of the hall.
We walked over toward it. “This is interesting,” I said.
“It gets better.” She hit the call button. “I live down there,” she said, gesturing down at the bedrooms. “Kasia lives there.” She pointed at the closet room. “And the other girls...“
The elevator doors dinged open. We stepped inside. They shut and we descended. I noticed that there were four floors’ worth of buttons.
We stopped at the second floor. It felt like we had gone down, but I was thoroughly confused. The doors slowly slid open.
We stepped out into what I could only describe as a military barracks. There were cots all over the place, with stuff lining the walls. Guns and ammunition were placed carefully in rows, and there were other doors leading to other rooms. Girls were lying around, chatting in small groups. At least one was cleaning a rifle with a mean look on her face.
“This is it,” she said.
“Where are we?”
“We’re down below the basement.”
I gave her a look. “You’re kidding me?”
“I’m not. There are two more floors below us, actually.”
“How the hell did you dig this deep without anyone noticing?”
“Money.” She grinned bigger. “Lots and lots of money.”
For a second, the scale of the thing left me breathless.
We were in the middle of Chicago in a crowded city block. Digging extra floors at the bottom of a house was a serious job, one that took serious equipment. For Louisa to manage to do it without anyone noticing was absolute madness. This should be all over the news, or at least Arturo should have caught her doing it already. Instead, she had managed to pull it off somehow.
I was totally flabbergasted. They had to have moved tons of rock and dirt, and that alone was a huge deal. Forget about actually building the structure, setting in air vents, making sure it’s water tight, all that stuff.
“This is incredible,” I said, shaking my head.
“I know. Come on.”
I followed her between the cots. She introduced me to a few girls. By and large they were pretty and eastern European, some of them Russian, some of them ex-Soviet states, but all of them were young. I was actually shocked at how young they were. The oldest girl was probably twenty-five at best.
“Are these girls all ex-sex workers?” I asked Louisa quietly.
“Sex slaves,” she corrected. “And yes. All of them.”
“Jesus. I thought you’d have other soldiers working for you. I didn’t think they’d all be girls.”
“That’s why we’re successful. These girls believe in what we’re doing.”
I followed her down a short hall. She showed me the medical room, which was currently occupied by a girl in a cot with an IV hooked up to her arm, and the kitchen. I was introduced to every girl by name, and I was impressed that Louisa knew every single one.
We moved back to the elevator and went down another floor. It was similar downstairs, though there were fewer girls. There was more storage, a workout room, a leisure room, and a small library all the way in the back.
“How do you feed all these people?” I asked Louisa.
“Tunnels leading out into the city,” she said. “We can’t come and go up top, that would be too obvious.”
“Of course.”
“Me and Kasia do. I mean, someone has to live in that house. But mostly we move shipments in and out that way.”
“I can barely believe this.”
“We have to have something like this. We’re fighting against a giant. We need every edge we can get.”
“These girls, they really believe in the struggle.”
“They do. I do too, Wyatt. It’s not bullshit.”
“I know you believe. But I always assumed it was a vehicle to more power.”
She shook her head. “Maybe at first, maybe it was. But not anymore. Not after what I’ve gone through, what I’ve seen. Not after the first time I heard stories from these girls describing the horrors my father and his men put them through, all because they were born poor and the wrong gender.”
I nodded and said nothing. It was so incredibly admirable that I found myself growing even more respect for her. I felt guilty that I had assumed it was all a front for more power, but I could see that it wasn’t.
Nobody did all of this for just a power grab. This place and all these girls, it cost Louisa everything. There was no way she could keep this place running, and however many other places just like it, without serious work and dedication. If s
he just wanted some power, she could have hired a bunch of goons and taken it.
Instead, she was saving lives, and then she was keeping those girls around. She was clothing and feeding them, giving them purpose, making their lives matter.
She was more than just a power hungry mobster. I knew she was, but this place proved it. This place represented everything that I really wanted.
I didn’t want people to live the sort of hellish existence that I used to live. The rich and the powerful in this city were always working to keep people down, and I knew that only more power could beat them. Sometimes I felt like I was fighting a losing battle, but standing underground in that place made me feel something.
“Come on,” Louisa said. “Let’s head back upstairs.”
“Right behind you.”
We got back into the elevator and rode it back up to the main floor. I kept staring at her, growing more and more impressed. She smiled back at me, and I felt something click inside of me, deep and powerful.
I took her by the hips and pressed her against the elevator wall. I kissed her softly on the lips. She kissed me back, a smile on her face.
“Does this sort of thing excite you?” she asked me softly.
“A powerful woman gets me hard,” I admitted.
“Good.” She kissed me softly. “But I want to talk to you.”
“Okay,” I said. “Except I don’t feel like talking.”
“I know what you feel like.”
“Do you?” I smirked at her. “I don’t think you’ve even begun to know.”
The elevator doors dinged open. We looked out. Kasia looked back in at us.
She cleared her throat.
“Going down?” she asked.
We stepped off the elevator. I smirked at her and she ignored me. We watched as the doors shut.
Louisa sighed. “Come on,” she said.
I followed her toward her bedroom, my heart pounding in my chest, desire and need flooding my veins.
20
Louisa
We stepped into my room and I shut the door behind me. Kasia was being very frustrating, though I understood her hesitation. She didn’t want to bring Wyatt in too deep incase he was playing us too.
But I wasn’t doing this halfway. I was tired of doing this slowly. I wanted to take it all the way, and we needed Wyatt to do that.
Plus, I trusted him. As silly as that maybe was, I really did trust him. I probably should have vetted him for longer, but I knew that was a waste. I did the research on him, but the research told me nothing.
Knowing the man told me everything. Having him inside of me told me more about him than any Google search could possibly tell me.
Wyatt looked around my room. “Simple,” he said. “Except for that.”
I sat down on my bed and smiled. He was looking at my desk. For the most part, my room was very simple, with no decorations and the simplest of furniture. The desk, however, had my enormous and complicated computer rig with three monitors arrayed alongside each other.
“That’s where the magic happens,” I said.
He frowned. “Yes. I’ve been victim of that magic.”
“You don’t like the way I get in touch?”
“Not when it’s in the middle of the night.”
“Poor Wyatt.”
“I’m not complaining.”
“It’s more secure than calling.”
“That I can appreciate.” He sat down next to me, crossing his legs ankle to knee.
I stood up and crossed the room. I turned back to him and took a deep breath. “I want to hit my father back, and hit him hard.”
Wyatt nodded. “I know.”
“We’ve lost girls before, but nothing like what happened.”
“What did happen?”
“He lured me into a trap and then killed some of my best girls. The whole thing was a setup from the beginning.”
“Now you’re angry.”
“That’s right. Now I’m fucking pissed.”
“We can’t act out of anger, Louisa.”
“I don’t care what I’m acting out of, so long as I act.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“I don’t care what you think.”
He shook his head. “You should.”
“I need to hit him back. The girls need this.”
“I don’t disagree. But we have to do it right.”
“What’s the right way?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“I was only telling you to see if you had any information I could use.”
“I know that.”
“I don’t need you to second guess my strategy.”
“I know that, too. But listen to me, Louisa. You just lost some girls, and you’re hurt. You need to think about this before you do anything rash.”
I clenched my jaw, anger rolling through me, but I wasn’t angry at Wyatt. I knew he was right. I was angry at my father, at the city, at this fucking shitty situation.
He stood up and walked toward me. “I can’t imagine what you’re feeling. But believe me, if we’re going to beat your father, we have to move carefully.”
I relaxed a bit as he slowly backed me up against the window. He took my chin in his hand and tipped my head up toward him.
I was still angry, but it slipped away as soon as his lips touched mine once again.
“Okay,” I said, breathless. “I’ll wait. One week. But then I’m hitting him, and nothing will stop me.”
“That’s fair,” he said, kissing me again.
I wrapped my arms around him, giving myself over to him as he kissed me harder, his tongue pressing between my open lips. He took my hair in his hand, holding it firmly, kissing my hard.
I couldn’t help but release a soft moan as his free hand unbuttoned my shorts and slipped down between my legs. I groaned as he found my soaking wet pussy, slowly rolling along my sex.
“We can take this city together,” he said, whispering in my ear. “You and me, Louisa. We can take this city and own it.”
“Yes,” I groaned. “Together.”
He pinned me back against the window, tipped my head back as his other hand slowly slipped beneath my panties. He rubbed my wet clit in slow circles, my ass up against the windowsill. His tongue was in my mouth as his fingers pressed inside of me. I groaned, moaning into his kiss as he slowly fucked my pussy like that.
He grunted and suddenly pulled back, taking my hips. He turned me around, pressing me against the window. He roughly pulled my shorts down, dropping to his knees behind me.
I moaned, surprised, as he began to lick my pussy from behind. His tongue explored every inch of me, firm and soft and warm all at once. He tongued my wet pussy, fucking me from behind as his hands held my ass nice and firm.
I moaned as he lapped me up from behind, my hands gripping the top of the window, face pressed against cool glass. I didn’t care if someone could see us, all I wanted was for him to keep going, keep licking my pussy, keep making me squirm.
My toes curled as he slapped my ass then tongued me, teasing my pussy, rolling up to my clit and back again. “Do you like when I eat this pussy from behind?” he asked.
“I’m not complaining,” I managed to say, smiling back at him.
He slapped my ass hard again and stood up. He pressed three fingers inside of me, making me moan, and pulled my hair back.
“I want to fuck you until you scream. I want the neighbors to hear you.”
“We can’t. That’s dangerous.”
“No, it isn’t. They need to know this is a normal house with a normal, filthy girl living inside of it. Do you want to be normal?”
“No,” I moaned. “Never.”
He pressed his fingers deeper. “You’ll do whatever I tell you to do.”
“Yes,” I gasped, mouth hanging open, mind a blank of pleasure. “Yes, I’ll do it.”
“Good.” He stepped back. “Rub your own dripping cunt.”
I
reached back and slowly rubbed my clit with one hand. I heard him taking his pants off. I looked back to see his thick cock hard, his hand stroking himself.
“I love looking at this ass,” he said. “Your perfect fucking ass, your cunt dripping wet. Do you like touching yourself while I watch?”
“Yes,” I gasped. “I want you to watch.”
“Fingers inside.”
I slipped them into myself, tipping my head back and gasping.
“Now taste them,” he ordered.
I slipped them out and put them in my mouth, licking off my own juice.
“That’s right,” he said, stepping up closer. “Taste yourself, your dirty fucking girl.” He took a handful of my hair. I felt his thick cock press against me. “I want you to taste what I fucking love to suck and lick.”
He pressed himself deep inside of me then, making me gasp.
“Oh fuck,” I said, holding onto the window. “Shit, Wyatt.”
“God damn you’re so fucking wet and warm. Your tight pussy makes me want to fucking come deep inside of you.”
He began to work his hips, sliding himself in and out, in and out. I could feel his cock filling me, stretching me, and I knew he could destroy me. His hands took my hips, holding me hard as he began to fuck me. He reached up and felt my breasts through my shirt and bra as he fucked me rough.
“Work my cock,” he ordered me. I began to slide backwards, head turned back toward him. I felt like I was going to pass out. Sweat was already dripping down my back. He slapped my ass. “Faster,” he ordered.
I moved my hips faster, twisting them, working them along his shaft. I slid back and slammed myself, moaning, biting my lip to try and stay quiet. He pulled my hair back, hand close to the roots, as he slapped my ass again.
“Harder. You think you can get me off? Work for it, you fucking filthy girl. Work for my cock. I want to see you fucking sweat.”
I doubled my efforts, slamming back against him, using the window as leverage. I was moaning loudly, mind a total blank as he slapped my ass harder. His hand found my throat, gently holding me there as I worked back against him.
His cock was deep inside of me, his hand on my throat. He owned me in that moment, and I knew I’d do whatever he wanted. The thought of him controlling me, dominating me, it set me off. I loved the pressure on my throat, loved the danger. He was a bad man, and his cock made me feel so damn good.