by A. E. D
“Oh! I almost forgot, don’t forget your juiceee.” He places a glass of juice that resembles the look of moss and seaweed. I don’t bother schooling my face as it cringes in disgust before looking up to see Monty’s amused face.
“You know the deal, you get drunk, you pay the consequences. Consequences meaning you drink the hangover juice.” He finishes with his hands on his hips. Rolling my eyes, I take the first sip. There’s no point in arguing with him because I can’t be bothered dealing with his hissy fits today. My head might actually explode if his voice reaches a higher pitch.
Immediately I gag and force a swallow. I continue to gag some more as the aftertaste was just as bad as the juice itself.
“Monty, that’s fucking disgusting.” I blanch.
He waves me off before grabbing his own plate and sitting down beside me. I notice out the corner of my eye as Monty starts playing with his food. A sure sign of him wanting to talk about something he knows I won’t like.
“So..I called Joe.” Groaning I turn to him in irritation.
“Why? I don’t need his help. I don’t need anyone’s help.” I try to calm myself down. I know he means well but the rising want of grabbing the back of his head and smashing it into the bench top is a satisfying thought.
“Mase, Ricky isn’t going to talk. You tried everything yesterday and the asshole still never spoke a word. Even after you knocked out his front teeth. You know Joe is always able to get info out of his prisoners.” Sighing, I know he’s right but I just don’t like asking for help.
I built my crew from the ground up and now we run half of New York city. Joe Morelli being our neighboring mob. He’s known us since we were young kids. Monty and I both ran away from our foster homes when we were thirteen. Sick of the abuse and treatment from each family, we decided to take to the streets. We felt safer there than what we did at any home or orphanage. That’s where Joe found us. He killed someone one night down an abandoned alley, not realizing we were both huddle up against each other next to the dumpster witnessing the whole thing. We were more cold than scared. The winters in New York nearly killed us but still we showed no fear at what he’d just done. Sure we just witnessed someone dying point blank, but that was the norm for us. The streets were a dangerous place back then. Even more so than now. You’d have to have some kind of strength in you to survive out there, but I think that’s what Joe saw in us. He wasn't worried when he spotted our shivering crouched bodies. Instead he laughed, clapping his hands together as if they weren’t covered in blood from him beating a man to death. Back then he was in his early thirties and without a second thought he took us in. He took us home that night and started our training. Molding us into the men he saw we could be. He showed us how the criminal underworld worked and what it takes to survive it. The drugs, guns, clubs even the corrupt officials in the city. There’s a price to pay to do business here he would say. Most of the politicians are on someone's payroll. By the time we were both nineteen, Joe handed over half the city to us, which at the time he had full control of the city. He was like the father we never had.
Still is.
That’s how we came to be known as Kingsmen. Monty didn’t feel like he could be a leader so he gave full control to me. Hence why we’re called after my last name, King, plus we were a group of men at the time so it was kind of fitting. Now our gang is one of the most highly known and feared in the city. Anywhere we go, people know who we are. We supply most of the guns and drugs to the lower class criminals in the city. Even supplying weapons to the military. We designed our own weapons. Stronger bullets, faster fire power, even tech-ing out the guns. Specialized bullets with liquid tracking devices. Once the bullets pierce the skin, they release the tracking serum. Your whereabouts become known to the shooter for 24 hours. It’s one of our highest sellers.
With a sigh, I reluctantly pull out my phone and ring him. I don’t wait long before his deep voice speaks.
“Mason my boy! How are you?” I can’t help but smile. He can be cheery when he wants to be.
“I’m good, Joe. Monty said he called you?” I know he can hear the annoyance in my tone. So can Monty since he just mocked my face.
“Ah yes, well, seems like it’s time for you to meet my secret weapon.” This had me sitting straight up in an instant.
“Secret weapon?” I ask, Monty’s head snaps in my direction. Seems Joe didn’t tell him either.
“You didn’t think I got the information out of them myself, did you?” He laughs.
If he didn’t do it than who did?
“I’ll tell you what, meet me at this address and you can see for yourself. Come alone. Tell Monts I’m sorry but The Handler doesn’t like surprises. I’ll have to add a little extra payment for you to be present as well.” I can almost see him scratching his head. Joe’s the biggest tight ass I’ve ever known. Even though he makes a fuck ton of money.
“The Handler?” The moment I spoke those words Monty starts coughing, choking on his pancakes. With a hard smack to his back he coughs the food back up.
“The Handler?! How the fuck did he get in contact with him?! That’s virtually impossible!” Monty says throwing his hands up in the air. I look at him like he’s grown two heads. I’ve never heard of this guy before but Joe seems to find this hilarious. He won’t stop laughing at Monty's outbursts.
“Listen son, tell no one about this. I’m serious. I could die if this were to get out. They’re very, very personal. I’m not even sure if I’ll live past today for inviting you. But you could be a potential client for them so who knows.” This all seems very cryptic but for some reason the little voice of logic in the back of my head is telling me to go.
So, what’s the worst that could happen.
Chapter Eleven
“Fuck!”
I look down at the bowie knife lodged in my right shoulder. Clenching my teeth together I pull the knife out. My knuckles go white from how hard I’m clutching the hilt of the knife. My gaze hasn’t left the exit where she left through. I should be fucking furious, murderous even, but I’m not. I’m angry because my shoulder fucking hurts but not at her. Not at that goddess of a woman. Suddenly a smack to the back of my head brings me out of my day dream.
“What the hell did I tell you?!” I look over at Joe who seems to have lost all colour in his face, frantically pacing back and forth clutching his chest and I almost think the old bastards having a heart attack.
“Christ son, you should be dead. She’s never spared anyone. I don’t even know how you’re here right now.” But I do. I felt it the moment she walked in.
The attraction was instant. Joe just finished going through a list of what to do and what not to do. Don’t speak, don’t move, don’t do anything. I almost thought he wouldn’t shut up until we heard the faint sound of heels clicking against the concrete. Instinctively, I stepped back into the darkest part of the room, with the shadows clouding me from the dim light. Something told me I needed to blend in. Not out of fear, but something else. Almost like I had to see the guy first before he noticed me. My mind didn’t even click that it was a woman until the door opened. Joe immediately straightened up and cleared his throat before speaking. Something about what he said made him flinch out of fear. His right hand nervously rubbed his left wrist as sweat started beading on his forehead. What the hell? I’ve never seen Joe so nervous before, especially in front of a woman. I hate to say it but he can be a bit of a pig to woman. Most of the men are, hell, even I can be sometimes. He stammers out a quick apology of sorts and continues on with what he wants. She hides it extremely well, but for some reason I can read her. She’s enjoying his agitated state. I find myself wanting to step forward and touch her. With a nod she heads towards to interrogation room. Stepping out of the light I find myself inspecting her more closely. The black latex catsuit sticks to her body like a second skin. Her tiny frame houses a mouthwatering chest, hips and backside. Everything I look for. Her silky straight black hair is pulled back showing off
more of her face. I feel as though I’m in a trance watching her. Her voice is even more angelic than I thought it would be. The man in the chair tensed when he said her name. It seems even the strongest men can be brought down to their knees by this little beauty. The mirrored shades cover her eyes, the one feature I find myself yearning to see. Her dark plump lips screaming to be kissed.
And kiss them I will. No woman can resist my charms and seeing as she’s a woman, she will be no different.
I didn’t realize the weird bracelet looking thing around her forearm was a snake. She’s affectionate towards it, which is the first true emotion I’ve seen from her since she arrived. Not including her hidden joy for Joe’s discomfort.
As time went one, I found myself entranced by her. The way she inflicted fear in a grown man, one as tough as this guy, just by talking was fascinating. Then when she guided the snake to strike, you’d have to be blind not to see the pure bliss overtake her. It’s like she lives for this, lives for the moment when she can bring someone closer to death. If I’m being honest, watching her slowly torture this guy had me hard as a fucking rock. There was not one ounce of regret or remorse from her as she destroyed the vials of what seemed to be his only lifeline at this point.
I’ve never had a fear of snakes before but after watching the way she glided through the room as the man's screams filled the room just from one snake bite, it’s hard not to. His body looked like it started eating itself from the inside out, as if it was rotting away before my eyes. This has got to be one of the most gruesome torture techniques I’ve ever seen committed by someone and I’ve seen a lot of techniques. Like teeth pulling, fingernails being ripped out, being beaten bloody and blue, but never this way, this is new. But a gut feeling tells me she knows a lot more than just snake torture. The two large bowie knives strapped to each outer thigh say otherwise.
I take a glance at the clock. It’s only been eight minutes? His screams made this short time feel like it’s been hours and if you took a look at how his body looks, you’d think that too. Another minute ticked by with no success, until a minute later when he started singing like a canary. Joe stepped up to the glass listening intently to the tortured man dispel all of his secrets. Men like this deserve the treatment he just got. In our world loyalty means everything and if that loyalty is gone then you can say goodbye to your life and forever be known as a rat. I however, stepped up to the glass for another reason entirely.
To see her.
She stood in front of the two-way glass setting out syringes, proceeding to fill the needles with the remaining antidotes and setting them on the table.
Then she paused.
I felt myself frown with a strange feeling bubbling beneath my surface. I felt like she knew I was there, like she knew my exact position. But there’s no way. It wasn’t until she looked up that I felt a shiver spread down my spine shooting straight to my dick.
She knew.
She knew exactly where my face was. She stared right at me and just watched. Does she feel something too?
Even I, the playboy king, can feel a connection to her. She has to feel it too. On this I don’t doubt. Cocky maybe, but I just know she does, she wouldn’t be staring right at my face right now if she didn’t. With one last look she turned around and proceeded to inject the antivenom. I thought Joe said he wanted this guy to die? My question was answered only moments later.
“It takes up to thirty or more vials of antivenom to cure a Black Mamba bite.” Her angelic voice flowed through the air, making my balls tingle.
“You had five.” Even I shivered from the amount of malice of which she delivered her last statement with. His screams pierced through the air once again before he broke down sobbing. I’ve never seen a grown man cry but I guess today is a day for firsts. First time I’ve ever gotten hard from watching another person torture someone, first time I ever took help from anyone and first time I saw actual fear in Joe, especially from a woman.
Just who is she? I had to know.
She grabbed the duffle bag containing her payment and headed to the door in a quick pace. Panic arose inside me thinking I might never see this woman again and I can’t let that happen, I need to know her. Striding across the room I grab onto her slim latex covered upper arm. The second my hand touched her arm, she went rigid. Sliding my hand down to her wrist, I could feel her pulse beating rapidly. She’s definitely feeling what I’m feeling.
“What’s your name?” From behind me, Joe’s breath hitched as he flinched. Turning my head slightly, he looked at me with fear in his eyes while shaking his head mouthing ‘shut up’. But I was never one to listen to someone else's order.
Thinking back now, I’m a fucking idiot. Maybe she did feel a slight connection between us but that wasn’t what had her pulse beating. It was the fact that she was so fucking angry.
“You don’t need to know.” Being so close I could hear a slight accent in her sharp reply. I couldn’t tell what it was but I knew it was there, like English wasn’t her mother tongue. Just another fact that made me want her more than I already do. I mean my dick is still so hard for her that being so close to her right now I feel like I might bust a nut.
“But I want to know.” I demand. No one talks back to Mason King.
Her body started slightly shaking. At first, I thought she was laughing but then I noticed her fists clenching at her sides.
Now she was extremely angry. I think I fucked up. She took a deep breath before turning her head slightly my way.
“We’re done here.” She left no room for arguments but I wasn’t done yet. She took a step towards the door and my last bit of control snapped. Who the fuck does she think she is?
“We’re not done until I say we’re done.” I said sharply, tightening my hold on her.
I didn’t even see her move.
One moment she was standing still and breathing hard from anger and the next, I had a knife embedded in my shoulder. I looked down at the twelve-inch knife to the handle protruding from my shoulder, instantly feeling blood run down my chest. After the shock of seeing a knife in me, I peered up at her to see her smirking. Then she turned her head, pulling her arm from my grip and walked out. It took a few moments for the shock to exit my system before I clench my hands in outrage. No one has ever walked out on me before, let alone stab me!
“Fuck!” Note to self, don’t clench fist while knife is still in me.
“You’re an idiot.” Joe shakes his head and sighs. I didn’t think it was such a big deal asking her for her name. I never even heard of The Handler before. How was I supposed to know of her rules?
✧✧✧
Painfully I made my way back to my penthouse. Shifting gears was a fucking bitch. I think I drove through four red lights just to get home. Crazy bitch had to stab me in my driving arm. Joe better keep his mouth shut. If Monty finds out about this, I’ll never hear the end of it. I pride myself on being the best of the best. With my fighting skills I should have seen the knife coming towards me but I didn’t. She had entranced me. The handler metaphorically had me by the balls. She made a monumental mistake today. Because what I can’t have, I want and I want her more than anything. I want to be able to feel her creamy thighs wrapped around my waist as I take what I want from her.
I threw my keys in the key bowl, which Monty admittedly said we needed to have, the second I walked through the front door. This two-level penthouse was supposed to be a bachelor pad, a man cave if you will. But no, Monty had to go through and give it a feminine touch. The open spaced living room now houses four black and white naked model portraits. Both men and woman on the left and right walls. The back wall consists of floor to roof windows covering every inch of the back wall. The thirtieth floor has the perfect view of New York city.
Just how I like it.
“He wasn’t kidding!” A shriek of laughter comes from above. Not even bothering to look up, I know Monty would be standing against the second level railing look down at me with that stupid lo
ok on his face like it’s the happiest day of his life. I can hear every heavy step he takes as he slowly makes his way down the stairs laughing hysterically.
“You better keep your mouth shut if you know what’s good for you.” I warn. Injured or not, I’ll give that smartass a beating.
“Oh man, that’s great. I can’t believe you got your ass handed to you by a woman and here you are always talking about how slick you are with your fighting skills.” Now he’s on the floor rolling around in laughter. I’m seriously contemplating shooting him in the leg. Maybe then he’ll stop laughing.
“Shut up and tell me everything you know about her.” Immediately he stopped laughing and stood up straight. Seriousness rolled off him in waves as he made his way towards me quickly.
“No Mason, I know what that face means. You leave her alone. She’s not someone you want to mess with. People have looked for her before and they’ve all wound up dead. You remember Benny Dioza? He went out looking for her and he’s never been seen since. Please don’t do this!” He begged as he shook me roughly, trying to get the message through my thick head. I’ve never seen Monty so shaken before. He’s never begged me not to do something, it’s always the other way around. What he doesn’t get is that he’s just unintentionally made me crave the hunt more. But she started it the minute she waltzed into that interrogation room and brought that pitiful man to his knees.
“She started it Monty the minute she stabbed me. I thought maybe I could let her go but no, she had to go and let the beast out of his cage and now he wants her.” The beast inside of me loves the hunt. The thrill of seeking out a sexy little deadly vixen like her has my soft cock growing hard again. She awoke something inside of me that I’ve never felt before, something I thought I would never feel..