The Butcher of the Bay 2

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The Butcher of the Bay 2 Page 4

by J Bree


  I can do it.

  The car ride goes on and on forever.

  The man in the front seat asks me if I need to relieve myself at one point when we stop for gas but I shake my head. There's no point trying to outrun the twelve men here, better to wait this out and do what I can to get one of them alone.

  The sky darkens again before we arrive at the house we're traveling to. I know for sure that this is the right one because the gates are large and ornate and closed. The car ahead of us pulls up and the driver's window rolls down, the man leaning out to speak into an intercom.

  The gates open automatically and the car starts moving again, the house not yet visible through the trees that line the drive.

  "Lord Devareux is a very rich man. He has paid a lot of money to be able to enjoy your company, do you understand? He will give you a life you cannot have anywhere else."

  There's no threat or warning in the man's voice, just a quiet explanation of who it is that has bought me. A Lord. Why an English nobleman would be in America buying women is a mystery to me but it makes no difference to me what his name or title is. Only that he wants me enough to buy me from the Jackal.

  "He has saved many girls from those auctions. They all are very grateful to him and he keeps in touch with them all after he gets them home. Is there somewhere you can return to?"

  I keep my mouth shut.

  I would never trust this man, or any other. I only trust mon Monstre and le Loup, the people who love me and have bled for me. Those people I will do anything to return to.

  The man sighs and gives me a curt nod, as if I've displeased him but he's accepting of it. "You'll change your mind when you see the house. The girls we rescue always do. You'll have your own room here, your own bathroom, all of your own things. How long has it been since you’ve had your own room?”

  I wonder how this man would react knowing that the Butcher of Mounts Bay gave me everything that he is trying to offer me without ever asking for anything in return? That I know for sure that he is tearing apart the country right now to find me? That the death he will give to them all for playing a part in my kidnap… I know it will be blood-soaked and archaic, something that will send them to the underworld with eternal suffering in their souls for all of time.

  I don’t speak a word.

  The mansion finally comes into view and it's huge, covered in creeping ivy, and warm looking. Homely. As if someone really lives here and loves it.

  I don't trust it.

  Not at all.

  The car parks in front of the building, pride of place, while the other two pull away. Now would be the best time to kill the men in the car, but they all start moving as one. I'm unbuckled and directed out of the car with quiet instruction.

  I still only have a night shirt on, my legs bare in the cool night air, and I pull my arms around my body tightly. One of the men removes his jacket and offers it to me but I refuse it. There's no way I'll ever wear another man's clothes. I can smell his cologne on it and my stomach roils at the smell.

  It's the same one Alcatron used.

  My breathing starts to quicken, and I know I'm about to vomit, the memories taking over my body but I don't let them cloud my mind. I need to stay sharp.

  I lurch to the garden bed and vomit there, nothing but bile coming up. The retching hurts, my stomach clenching and the waves of nausea causing a cold sweat on my brow.

  "The Jackal said you were clean, was he lying? This looks like a detox."

  Stupid man.

  I shake my head with a frown and wipe my mouth. He looks at me properly then, at the shaking of my arms and the goosebumps on my freezing legs.

  "Lord Devareux doesn't enjoy watching women detox but we have a room for it if you need. There are no drugs here, he would never permit you to stay if you are caught taking anything. If your captor got you addicted, then you need to tell us."

  I stare ahead of myself, at the large stones with the beautiful foliage draped artfully over it. I've never seen such a beautiful building, it's like something out of a storybook.

  I wonder what twisted fairy tales happen here?

  "Lord Devareux had this house built as a replica of his home estate back in France. It's in Marseille, he's taken women that he's rescued there before. I'm sure you would love France, it's a beautiful country."

  Ah.

  So they know nothing of who I really am or how I came to be in the Jackal's possession. I shouldn't be so surprised, he wouldn't have broadcast he was selling the French woman that the Butcher had hunted down in the Bay.

  My heart clenches as they direct me up the stone steps and into the mansion.

  How will mon Monstre ever find me here?

  The inside of the mansion is just as beautiful as the outside.

  There are paintings on the walls, all of them originals, and there must be at least a hundred million dollars of oils up there. There are vases and sculptures too but I'm less familiar with them, painting and sketching being my usual interests. They’re beautiful though, everything here has been carefully curated to show not only the good eye of the collector but the obscene wealth of the Lord himself.

  The carpets are plush and well tended, hand woven Moroccan rugs splayed out lavishly. This man is wealthy, an aristocrat, and thinks very highly of himself if he thinks he's saving all of these women.

  I won't be tricked again.

  "This way, ma'am. Lord Devareux is meeting you for an early breakfast. It's almost six now, did you know? A long drive for us all. He'll give you a tour of the property afterwards and he'll talk you through what we're doing here. Once you're comfortable then you can head up to your room to rest."

  He moves me around the table until we reach the chair to the left of the head of the table and seats me there like a perfect gentleman. There's a full dinner setting on the table, the series of knives and forks all perfectly spaced out. The man who seated me clears his throat and takes my napkin.

  "American girls are not used to dining this way but Lord Devareux insists on holding to traditions. The napkin must rest over your legs." I Ignore him completely, tensing when he leans over me to place the napkin down. He's careful not to touch me though and when he fusses with it I carefully slip the knife at his waist out of the sheath. When le Loup has shown me this maneuver I had been so sure I would never have use for it but, once again, she was right to teach me. As he straightens I quickly move my hand under the table so he can't see the little gift he has just given me.

  A knife alone won't get me out of the building, and home to the Bay, but it's a start.

  There's a flurry of movement outside of the dining room and the man straightens himself up, tugging on his clothes and fussing with his cuffs.

  "You should speak to the lord. He's done a lot for you already," he murmurs, but keeps his eyes on the doorway. He must be something if they all act like this. Cruel and wicked, or at the very least he must be strict on his men. My stomach drops when he walks in.

  The man is handsome with an open face and kind eyes.

  Older than me by many years but still very handsome and fit. He is the exact type of man I would have wanted before I met Illi but all of the refinement just looks hollow and fake to me now.

  And there’s the small issue that he bought me.

  “Ah. There’s my lovely breakfast guest! You really are a beauty, aren't you? No, no! Don't get up, I'll join you."

  I didn't move a muscle to get up but he wasn't really speaking to me, he was teaching me of his expectations. My father used to do the same thing, only with more sarcasm and beatings.

  He smiles at the man who walked me in. "Thank you, Smith! You've done a fine job of escorting Miss Delancy here."

  Miss who?

  Oh.

  Right. The Jackal would have given me a fake name. I could tell him all about it but... he might decide to kill me rather than send me back to mon Monstre. Better to play along for now.

  He waves Smith away and a server walks in with plates
of fresh fruits already sliced up and cheeses.

  "I like to start the morning with something light. We'll have something more filling after we've tried out the new cheeses. I had them shipped over from Europe, I supposed Smith told you where I'm from? He does like to gossip."

  There's barely an accent to his voice, clearly he's been here a long time.

  I don't speak or acknowledge his words in any way, I just stare down at my plate. I move slowly to tuck the knife under my thigh, thankful the blade is covered and I don't cut myself doing it. The pain wouldn't have been an issue but explaining the blood... that would be something else entirely.

  "Ah, my guest is a shy one! Not to worry, I can talk enough for the both of us. It has been quite a long week for me, my dear. I lost one of my other dear friends. She went to go stay with her mother, a lovely girl but may I say she had nothing on your beauty. My, my. I wasn't expecting you to be so breathtaking! I’d heard rumors but I find it best not to believe such things.”

  He tells me all about how important he is and, though I believe none of it, I listen for clues… anything that may help me to escape. He really does think quite a lot of himself and his acts of rescue.

  I sit here at the dining table as if I’m complying to his whims but I refuse to eat or drink. I can’t take the chance because it could be drugged. I’m not starving yet, I can hold out for days now I’m back in good health. All of that bread and pasta will come in handy while I wait for mon Monstre.

  Lord Devareux chuckles at me.

  “Do I need to taste test everything for you, my dear? Or are you too tired to eat? I know you were on the road for a long time, it can be so taxing on a young lady.”

  Still I keep my mouth shut. I won’t speak to him unless my life requires it, and only then because I wouldn’t ever hurt mon Monstre like that.

  I must get back to him.

  Lord Devareux doesn’t get offended at my silence or my refusal of food, instead he happily eats and drinks and talks about nothing important until he’s had his fill. He then wipes his mouth with a cloth napkin and excuses himself, overly polite and winking at me as if this is some sort of date. I try not to choke on the bile that creeps up my throat at his flirty antics.

  It's difficult but I manage to get the knife tucked into my bra while he speaks to Smith at the door. I have to hunch down over the table to do it without the men seeing me if they glance my way.

  They don't glance my way though, they don't for one second guess at what I'm doing. I wonder how many other girls have been here and how many of them have tried to escape? They don’t seem worried at all, but it’s not with the same air of confidence that Illi has. He didn’t care because he knows he can handle any situation, these men… they’re complacent.

  Mon Monstre is never complacent, not with anything.

  Even the Jackal wasn’t his fault. Betrayal like that is not something you can prepare for, not without building walls and casting everyone in your life out. What a miserable life that would be.

  It was the life he rescued me from living in France, in a roundabout way.

  No matter how much we both wish my time with the Cartel hadn’t happened, it was the path he found me on and I wonder if my heart would have ever opened to him without it? I wish I could be sure of it, but we both learned the hardest lessons then.

  “My dear girl, I think it’s best if you go and lay down in your room. I will have lunch brought up to you there but you can rest for the day and sleep well tonight. Then we can speak again tomorrow morning. You clearly need some time to adjust to your new surroundings.”

  I don’t nod or look at him, not acknowledging he’s spoken in any way, and I hear his sigh from across the room. Good. I hope I’m frustrating the shit out of this man.

  He clears his throat and I finally look over at where he’s standing there with Smith. They’re both staring at me, Smith with a small, disapproving frown. When he comes to pull my chair out I stand up and follow him dutifully, the both of us walking over to Lord Devareux and then following him back through the mansion. It’s big enough that I make note of where I’m turning and what is around me so I can find my way back out through the door when I’m ready to make my escape. The vases and sculptures help, all of them unique enough to work as markers.

  We go up two flights of stairs and down two separate hallways before we finally make it to my room. Lord Devareux ushers me in but stays at the door, holding up a little key.

  "I must lock the door. It's for your safety, I've had girls try to run before and I wouldn't want you to be hurt. My land has a lot of wild animals on it, enough that you could be harmed if you went out without protection. I’m the only one with a key so you are quite safe here. Ring the bell if there's anything you need, my sweet. I'll come for you."

  For me.

  It could be a slip of the tongue but I'd never trust him not to try something while I sleep.

  So I don't.

  I lay down in the bed and I wait, my hand clenched tightly around the handle of the knife and I wait for him to come.

  I'm not wrong.

  He comes for me.

  But he's not expecting what he gets.

  Chapter Five

  Illi

  I come to a screeching halt outside the group home and the kid dives out from the shadows, sliding into my car and I'm off again before the passenger car door is shut all the way.

  She's in all black, big combat boots on her feet, and her bag slung unzipped as she starts strapping on holsters and sliding her weapons into place. I've never seen the kid carry so many different options.

  I’m glad she packed for war.

  She smirks at me as she clips the holster with the knife onto her thigh. “Whoever you called did a great job on the Jackal's business. Fuck, they took everything."

  I smirk, smug as fuck about how fucking pissed the poser asshole is going to be about it all. "I met a guy, kind of a dick but he's come in handy. I might keep him as an informant, even if he is a Demon."

  She scoffs. "Do I even want to know what the hell a Demon is? Isn't it bad enough that we have the Jackal and the Vulture roaming the streets of the Bay?"

  I chuckle, checking my mirrors to make sure the bikers are keeping up with my tactical driving, and by tactical I mean swerving and running every fucking red light because I need to get to my girl right the fuck now.

  "Chaos Demons, kid. Bikers from Indiana mostly, bad news. You see them, you turn and walk the fuck away. I don't need to be hunting you down in their fucking lair because one of them likes what you're selling."

  She finishes up with the strapping and finally buckles the seatbelt over her tiny body. "I'm not selling anything. Guys aren't fucking worth the trouble."

  Good.

  Okay, that's a fucking weird thing to think. She's not actually my sister so it shouldn't bother me about her jumping into bikers’ beds but, fuck, nope. Don't like that idea at all.

  Growing a conscience is fucking wild, man.

  "Right. So stay away from them."

  She scoffs at me as she looks out over the highway. "I stay away from all bikers, as much as I can anyway. I have to deal with the Unseen a fair bit but I don't make friends with them."

  I don't think she makes friends with anyone.

  Again, this shouldn't make me happy.

  "You ever been to Nevada before kid? Maybe once we have Odie we can stop for burgers."

  She shrugs. "I've never left the Bay."

  That's fucking sad. I mean, I always come back here but I've traveled and done shit. Mostly for work but I've gone and eaten the food, seen the sights.

  It's hard to remember she's only fourteen sometimes.

  I expect her to fall asleep or demand the radio on or something but she doesn't. She just sits there, alert and assessing, the entire five-hour drive.

  I can’t stand the silence for once because my mind is a fucking mess of rage and bloodlust. I want to rip them all apart, feel their bones snapping beneath my hand
s and under my boots as I just fucking destroy them all. My hands clench so hard on the steering wheel the leather creaks and protests.

  “You need to fucking distract me, kid.”

  She scoffs at me. “I’m not the chitchatting sort of girl, Illi, you know that.”

  I smirk but there’s no real joy in it. “Fuck, the Bay hasn’t ever produced a chitchatting sort of girl but I need a distraction. Tell me about your last job. Tell me something… bloody. It might fucking help.”

  She grimaces. “I just hacked someone's mom up for a job, does that count? He needed her gone, not just dead but like cut into pieces and spread through the Bay where animals could take care of it.”

  Fuck.

  Seriously?

  She nods, again knowing what I’m thinking without me saying a goddamn word. “Yup. I didn’t ask questions about why he needed her dead but… I’d heard enough stories. She was fucking bad. Worse than my mom, worse than most.”

  The Bay is notorious for pumping out generation after generation of kids without decent parents and no hope of stopping that vicious cycle. I didn’t know much about the kid’s mom, only that the Jackal took her out with a dirty batch of heroin.

  She gives me a side-eye. “Yeah, I know you know about what Matteo did.”

  Fuck.

  “Giving a shit about this sort of thing is still kinda… new to me, so you’ll have to forgive me for not fucking stopping him.”

  The kid nods and looks out the window at nothing. It’s silent again in the car for a second before she murmurs, “I guess I’m the worst sort of person because I’m… glad she’s gone. I could never have done it myself but I’m better off now.”

  Better off now, even with D’Ardo playing his games and a whole list of bad shit she’s been forced to do? Fuck, her leg will never be the same.

  “That just makes me feel worse. You said you had a plan though, right? I’m going to need to hear all about it once Odie is home safe. I’m doing whatever I need to to get you the fuck out.”

  She nods again and shifts back to look out the window. “There’s a plan. It’s already underway, I’m going to be okay.”

 

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