by J Bree
Then I knock him out with the butt of the gun.
I don’t want him getting another fucking word in, the whole lot of it a steaming pile of useless bullshit. Once I’m sure he’s out I cable tie his wrists together, wrap a quick tourniquet around the bullet wound so the piece of shit doesn’t bleed out and then I stick a gag in his mouth.
Useful tool for my line of work.
Then I straighten up and look over the kid. She’s still humming away, her eyes screwed shut as she rocks gently.
I look around until I find Bingley’s wallet, a couple of grand in cash and eight credit cards sitting pretty in there.
“Get up, kid. Here’s your money, get out of here. Try to make it last long enough that you don’t have to do this shit again.”
Her eyes blink open and she stares at me like I’m every fucking monster she’s ever thought hid in the shadows. “I won’t say anything.”
I nod and throw the wallet down at her feet. “I know, because if you did tell someone I’d be forced to kill you. Neither of us want that. Mounties know better than running their mouths, right?”
She nods back at me, her bony little hand creeping out to clutch at the wallet and then she’s cradling it to her chest.
“How old are you, kid? The truth, not what you tell the cops.”
She bites at her lip. “I’m fifteen. I’m not a kid, I can work if I want to.”
I grimace. She looks about eight but food deprivation will do that to you. “You can but guys like that would kill you without feeling a fucking thing about it. Don’t waste that money on drugs. Eat and stay clean, for fuck’s sake.”
She nods but doesn’t move. I get it, she doesn’t trust that I’m letting her out of here alive. I guess her interactions with every other fucking guy on this planet would do that to her.
I can’t keep thinking about her, or the countless other kids around here being starved and abused right this fucking second, so I turn on my heel and walk back over to Bingley where he’s trussed up at the end of the bed.
A sharp kick in the gut with one of my boots wakes him up, groaning and gagging behind the cloth in his mouth. The loathing is still in his eyes. Maybe it’s always there, just a part of his DNA that he’s arrogant and doesn’t give a fuck about anyone but himself. A few years back I guess that was me as well, but I don’t think Bingley could ever change the way I have. I don’t think he feels something so human as guilt.
Fuck him.
“Get up. We have somewhere to be.”
He groans but I give him no choice but to stand, my hand tight around his arm as I drag him up to his feet. There’s blood pooling on the ground from the bullet wound to his calf and he’s unsteady on his feet.
Good.
I shove a black bag over his head, the type I order in especially for this type of work with thin fabric that fits into my back pocket but completely blinds the dickhead I put it on, and then I drag him behind me. As we get halfway out the door I cast one last look over my shoulder at the kid but her eyes are closed again as she holds onto the wallet like it’s a fucking life raft.
When I spot the bellboy I peg him with a look. “Guard that door. Don’t let anyone go in there until the kid leaves. She’s coming down from whatever the hell she’s on and if you touch her, I’ll fucking tear you to pieces.”
He startles and nods his head like his life depends on it, moving to stand in front of the door and take up watch.
Bingley scoffs from behind his gag ike I’m being stupid for trying to protect her. I’m not. If the bellboy hadn’t already been disgusted about her being preyed on by this rapist I would’ve dragged her out of here with me.
Besides, he doesn’t realize just how fucking bad it is to be on my bad side.
Mounties all know better.
I stuff Bingley into the trunk of my car.
The BMW has enough space to fit three bodies in if they’re cut up enough but a fully-grown man can be bent and shoved in awkwardly. I’d know.
I’ve had a whole fucking heap of bodies in here in my time.
I call Odie to check in with her and let her know I’ll be a little late. When she answers I practice my French with her.
“Don’t wait up, baby girl. I’ll wake you with my tongue when I get back.”
Her soft giggles down the line are like fucking crack to me, addictive and consuming, I need more.
“Mon Monstre, I’m yours to have as you want. Whatever you desire is yours to take.”
Fuck.
I get off of the phone before I’m tempted to stop off home and eat her up, have her coming on my tongue until her sweetness drips down my chin and I bend her over until she’s screaming my name.
I have to adjust myself, the images of what I want to do to her too vivid in my head while I’m on a job. I’ll be getting enough from the Crow today to take my girl on the best fucking honeymoon she could ever want and that’s too important to flake out on even for tasting her.
I drive like a crazed man, not because I’m in a rush but because I know it’ll be bumping him around and shoving him all over the place. It’s not the type of torture I want to be giving him but I’m working with what I’ve got.
The Crow’s fortress is the stuff of legends.
A cement and stone nightmare, it looks like a bomb shelter surrounded by twelve-foot high fences with barb wire and electric volts running through it. It’s not a place you can sneak into but I’d still put money on the Wolf figuring it the fuck out.
She’s a resourceful little thing.
I hit the intercom and nothing happens. There’s thumping in the trunk and then a smashing sound, the fucking pervert has kicked out the lights from the inside. My jaw clenches and I jab at the intercom again like it’ll suddenly fix fucking everything.
It doesn’t, but one of the Crow’s men comes through the little gate finally, all suits and earpieces like he’s some bigwig bodyguard and not a crime lord’s bitch-boy.
“The Crow is expecting you, go straight through.”
I nod and wait for the gate to swing open, the thumping in the back getting worse. He probably heard and knows he’s about to be delivered. I don’t know what the Crow wants him for but I doubt it’s because of his enjoyment of underage girls. Barring the kid, none of the Twelve turn their noses up at the Vulture’s auctions. Fuck, half of them buy from him on the regular.
I might fucking snap and kill them both.
I drive up to the fortress, the Crow and a dozen of his men waiting for me there. He looks like his usual stern self but there’s something different this time. Something about the way he’s standing there, one hand in his pocket and the other running down the buttons of his suit jacket, that is a tell for him.
He’s nervous.
Who the fuck is Bingley to him? Or am I about to be ambushed and taken out?
Fuck him, even with a dozen armed men he can’t take me. Still, I slip a gun out of my hip holster and slip the safety off just to be sure. I have Kevlar on too, my safety a little more important to me now I have a woman to go home to.
Her safety is everything to me and I can’t keep her safe if I’m fucking dead.
When I get out of the car it becomes clear that he’s nervous about the guy in the trunk and not about me. He steps forward to greet me, without shaking my hand because there’s fuck-all trust between us, and his eyes dart around my backseat.
“I didn’t want blood on the leather, he’s in the back.”
The Crow grimaces and nods. “I knew he’d put up a fight. He’s alive though, right?”
I shrug. “He was a minute ago when he kicked out my taillights.”
The Crow nods again. “Bill me, I’ll take care of it.”
Like I care, I can fix it myself but his easy attitude right now is setting off all sorts of alarms in my head. I don’t think he’s plotting to kill me right now but there’s definitely something going on.
This is not the man I’ve seen on official Twelve business. This isn’
t the man that left the meeting all those months ago, back when I grabbed the Coyote to help find my girl.
This is personal.
I pop the trunk and the suits all rush to grab Bingley, hauling him to his feet and a few of them have their guns out as if he’s a danger. It makes zero fucking sense, he went down easy enough for me.
The second they turn him and he sees the Crow everything changes.
All the arrogance and quiet fury is gone and in its place is a snarling, spitting man fighting not for his life but to destroy his most hated enemy.
Well.
That explains some shit, doesn’t it.
He rips away from the men holding him and throws himself at us both. I raise my gun, ready to put him down but the Crow beats me to it.
A bullet in each of his knee caps in quick succession.
He lands face first into the stone pavement but he doesn’t scream or cry out this time, just struggles as he tries to get his arms free from the cable tie. Fuck, I think he’d rather lose a hand right now than be taken by the Crow and his men.
Interesting.
“We’ve got it from here, Butcher. Your work was sufficient, I’ll have my men bring down your money now.”
I nod and watch as they corral him into the fortress. The Crow doesn’t move from the spot but you’d think they were dragging a landmine between them at the look on his face.
“Old friend?”
He scoffs. “That man doesn’t have friends, only victims and pawns.”
I shrug. “Those types are a dime a dozen in our world, doesn’t make them hate a man like that.”
Two men step out from the house, bags full of cash in their arms. I charge a lot for my work, more than anyone else. That also tells a fucking lot about what just went down.
“He’s going to hate me a whole lot more while he’s chained to my basement floor by his throat. I’ll leave you to find your own way out, I know you’re a busy man.”
Then he leaves, walking back up to his fortress and disappearing, three of his men following him so closely you’d think there were fucking snipers on him right now.
I motion for my cash to be left in the trunk and the men both frown at the state of it. There’s blood and glass everywhere.
Like I give a fuck.
I smirk at the guy and watch as his eyes slide down the cleavers strapped to my thighs in full view. The gulp he gives me is loud enough that a laugh rips out of my chest. Fuck it’s good to be the Butcher, this shit gets me going.
I get back in my car and leave, trying to figure out who the fuck Bingley actually is. There’s something in the way the Crow watched him that has me hesitating, has me curious more than I usually am because the Crow doesn’t ever look cautious or hesitant. Never looks fucking human and yet there he was, apprehensive about the snarling rapist he’d paid me to pick up and deliver.
No matter what angle I look at it from there’s only one thing that’s clear; it’s not going to affect my girl so I should just fucking forget about it but I’ve been caught out too many times in the last few months. Too many close calls. So I tuck this into the back of my mind, ready to take out and unravel later.
For now, I have the most beautiful girl in the world to get home to.
One I have given my name and one day I’ll give her my kids too.
Fuck, I need everyone on my list taken care of before then. I can’t be having my pregnant woman waiting for me at home while I’m off hunting her demons. I’m not fucking worthy of her, not until I right my wrongs.
Someday soon.
But for now, I can go home and make her come so hard her brain leaks out of her ears and she forgets all about the bad in the world. I want her naked and happy, blissfully in love and lust with me.
I’ll kill any motherfucker that tries to get in the way of our happy ending.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Odie
The flights to France are long and slow but we fly first class together, drinking champagne and watching movies. When we finally arrive in Paris, I hail a cab to take us to the hotel mon Monstre picked out for us.
The Plaza Athénée is stunning, everything I would have ever hoped for in a honeymoon location, and the suite we have is luxurious with a view to die for of the city. The other guests and the bellboy steer clear of us as we walk through the reception together, his size and tattoos obviously off-putting to them, but he doesn’t seem to notice at all.
I love it.
We spend the night together in the huge bed, the sheets as soft as silk. Our usual schedule of sleeping through the day works in our favor for the jet lag and when we wake, I order room service to eat in bed together.
We have a big day planned.
Today is not yet the start of our honeymoon. We have work to do, the carefully laid out plan of mon Monstre is fresh in my mind. He’s explained it to me, answered all of my questions and offered to change it if it wasn’t to my liking.
I don’t make any changes.
Everything he has planned is the perfect justice for me, the last pieces of the puzzle coming together. After today, there will only be one man left on his list.
His old friend.
Once we’ve eaten, we shower together in the large double stall and I get all of my hair wet while I worship his body with my tongue, licking and sucking every inch of his dick as he pushes it between my lips and fists my hair as he feeds it to me, the perfect dessert for being such a good girl for him.
After he fucks me raw and then soaps me off with reverent hands, I dress in the most beautiful red silk dress, all plunging necklines and slits up my thigh. I feel like a goddess in it and the fire in mon Monstre’s eyes has my pussy clenching. He wears all black. Jeans, a button-up shirt and his leather jacket. We look like the most sinful couple, like a sophisticated aristocrat on the arm of the most dangerous man and I revel in the looks we get as we head out into the warm Parisian afternoon. I order a car service to pick us up and deliver us to the address mon Monstre shows me on his phone. I’m not nervous but I feel as though my entire body is vibrating with electricity, like there’s a live current running under my skin.
Only mon Monstre’s touch seems to calm it.
It only amplifies as we arrive at our destination, the driver opening my door for me but he waits by the car as Illi death glares him. I move into his arms with a little smile and we walk the short distance up the steps to the townhouse.
“Have you decided yet?” He murmurs, capping my face in his hand as we stop in front of the door. I can’t believe my father has moved my mother back to Paris now that they no longer have me to care for.
I was always an inconvenience to them.
I shake my head a little, my eyes drifting shut. I want this moment but… I also want it to be over already. I want to be done with that part of my life so we can start living our lives the way we both deserve.
He pulls out his phone, sending a text message, and then less than a minute later the door opens. I don’t recognize the man but Illi speaks softly to him in perfect French, the months of our practicing serving him well.
Then he ushers us into the townhouse and directs us up to my father’s office.
A room I’ve never even seen before.
We wait there for my parents, my skin crawling as I sit in my father’s chair but my back is straight, my shoulders squared, and my face is blank. The type of blank I’d learned in my childhood of domestic abuse.
Mon Monstre stands beside me, handsome as ever but not at all dressed up for my parents. No, he does not care what their opinion of him is and I love him deeply for it.
The door opens and my mother's eyes hit mine, widening as she gasps and smiles. She looks thrilled to see me.
I feel sick.
"Odette! I didn't know you were coming! Did your husband bring you to see us?"
I smile at the frown my father gives me, his eyes flicking to Illi and away instantly.
"My husband did bring me here, Mother, but my hus
band is not the man Father sold me to."
My mother frowns, just a little. She glances at my father but his eyes stay glued on me. "You left your first husband? Odette, that's awful."
I smirk, something I've watched Illi do so many times I'm now an expert in carving that sarcastic image into my own face. "Mother, I never married into the Mecedo Cartel. Didn't Father tell you? They decided I was spoiled goods, not worthy to be a wife to an old man because I wasn't a virgin."
My father's eyes narrow. "Yes, I was informed of your sullied state. You're the reason I went to prison, Odette! You owe me a great deal."
I see Illi's fists clench in the corner of my eye and my father's gaze drops down to it.
"Why have you brought this man here, Odette? You have no need for a bodyguard in your own father's home."
I look up at mon Monstre and I let every inch of my love for him show in my eyes and he smiles back down at me, speaking for me, "I'm her husband, Achembault, but I'm also her guard. I know all about how you treat your daughter and you won't be beating her today."
Mother gasps, her hand flying up to her throat and she looks Illi over again, assessing him now she knows he's not simply one of my husband’s men. The horror on her face once would have brought me shame, or at least some guilt, but all I feel is vindication.
My father takes a step forward, anger igniting in his eyes, and hisses at me, "So you sleep around and ruin the marriage I chose for you and now you've found yourself some thug to fuck? You're disgusting and no daughter of mine."
I tip my head back and I laugh.
I definitely sound crazy but I don't care, I laugh until my stomach aches. "Oh, Father. You know it was Louis that I had sex with in France? Just him. He led me on, told me how much he loved me and then the moment you sold me off he turned his back on me. No, worse, he helped you transport me. I was then sold again, raped repeatedly by six different men, and then finally I found mon Monstre. He found me."
I stand up, smoothing my hand down my dress to flatten any creases that might have formed while I sat. My mother has tears streaming down her face, the sorrow there at everything that happened to me... well, it's too late for that sorrow now.