The Butcher of the Bay: Part I (Mounts Bay Saga Book 1)

by J Bree

  Illi’s eyes flare and he gets up, thanking Lips and talking to her as he walks her out. I hit the shower and when I’m done I stare at my naked body in the mirror for a few minutes.

  I think I’m ready to stop hating myself for what was done to me.

  I think I’m ready to love myself again.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Illi

  It takes the Viper a few weeks to get over himself, but he does call me in for another fight. He probably thinks he’ll be able to have me killed there, that his fighter is good enough to take me out, but there’s no fucking chance.

  The payoff is double the last.

  Easy money and good night out for me and the boys. I need to introduce them both to the kid, get another couple of sets of eyes on her. I need a plan to get her away from D’Ardo and I get the feeling I’m going to need the bikers’ help.

  I leave Odie with a new canvas and the promise of Chinese for dinner. She’s never had it, something about her mom hating the smell of it, and I promise to bring her the best the Bay has to offer.

  I don’t give a fuck if it’s sappy, the grin she gives me is everything and I want to kiss her so fucking bad I see red over it.

  Definitely a good night to beat the life out of some dickhead.

  I call Harbin and Roxas to meet me at the Dive, then I flick a text to the kid and see if she’s game for pissing D’Ardo off. She replies that she’s on a job and will meet me down there. She works too much and she needs to fucking eat more.

  I’m buying her a fucking burger.

  The Dive is the busiest I’ve seen it in months, overrun with gangsters, too many of them walking around with the Jackal’s grinning tramp stamp. I instantly regret telling the kid to come down but fuck it, I’m in the mood for a bar fight.

  I head straight over to the Viper, ready to clear the air and make sure he’s not about to pull a fucking weapon on me or some shit. He wouldn’t do it. He knows that his cage fights are only renown because he doesn’t ever allow tampering. As a fighter, you know the moment you step in that you’re on your own, your skill against your opponent.

  It’s fucking perfect.

  The Viper sits at his private table, knocking back a shot of tequila with his heavily bandaged hand. He grimaces when he sees me. “You couldn’t just fight and fuck off like old times? I only invited you because you’re the local attraction. The out-of-towners like to give you a try.”

  Yeah, they all think they can take me on and make a name for themselves. They’re wrong. “I just wanted to make sure you’re over your little… moment of stupidity. You keep my girl out of conversation and we can go back to getting along.”

  He scoffs, pouring another shot awkwardly. “We’ve never gotten along, Butcher. You don’t play well with authority figures.”

  What a fucking joke that it. “You’re a washed up cage fighter who, once upon a time, won a fight in a forest. I’m not impressed, man. But green is green, and I’ll take your money with a smile on my face.”

  He smirks. “Just so long as I don’t talk about your girl? Fine. Works for me. Get in the fucking cage, I’m betting on you and hoping I lose.”

  Whatever, no big loss for me.

  The guy I’m fighting is fucking massive but the problem with steroids is they make you slow, sloppy. He doesn’t enjoy me pointing that out to him, and he enjoyed having his windpipe crushed under my boot even less. It takes me maybe three minutes, easy work for fucking good money, and I have the entire night left to finish my other jobs.

  I find the kid at the bar with a drink.

  D’Ardo’s driver is with her, his arms crossed as he flirts with some biker bitch. The easy grin he’s giving her slides right off of his face when I arrive.

  “Boss doesn’t want you talking to the Wolf.”

  I flag the bartender down, order some food, and then turn back to him. “If you tell him, I’ll strangle you with your own intestines then I’ll sell your body to cannibals. Nothing would make me happier than knowing you’re being shit out of those psycho’s colons.”

  The kid pulls a face at me, her eyes widening when the food is put down in front of her. The Dive is exactly that, a fucking dive bar, but the cheese fries are good and the double burger is decent enough.

  “Luca, we’re friends. The Jackal will… get past his issues eventually.” She says with a smile, and the guy backs off.

  She is so much fucking nicer than anyone else I know, she just handles people with zero bullshit. To the point, don’t fuck with her or she’ll stab you.

  Effective as hell.

  “Eat the burger, kid. I owe you one.” I murmur and sit next to her. I know she won’t eat with her back exposed like that, she is too alert. Maybe with me watching out for her she’ll relax a little.

  She frowns at me and I order her another drink. I’ll get the little Wolf drunk if I have to to get some fucking food in her. “We’re meeting some guys here. I need you guys to meet, get along, swap info. All the good shit.”

  She shrugs and pokes around at the fries. Once I stop watching her she finally digs in, eating like a starving kid. Well, I guess that’s exactly what she is. I remember how little the group home gave us.

  I watch two more fights, both of them underwhelming, when Harbin and Roxas finally arrive.

  Harbin frowns at the kid but Roxas just steals a couple of fries while he orders a drink. I could fucking stab him for it but he winks at her playfully, clinking his glass with hers and sits beside her at the bar.

  “The infamous little Wolf. What do we owe the pleasure of meeting you tonight? Are we killing someone or are we being lured somewhere to die? I’ve gotta tell you, I usually like my bait older and with more tits.”

  If looks could kill, Roxas would be a goner. Lips has one hand in her pocket and I set my drink down to punch the asshole. Harbin even manages a real scowl at him.

  “She’s fucking jail bait, dickhead.” He snaps, and Roxas laughs.

  “No shit. I can’t believe the Jackal wants you so bad, no offense. You look about twelve years old.”

  The kid turns to raise an eyebrow. “You wanted me to meet this guy? Cool, are we done here?”

  I rub a hand over my face. “He’s a good guy to know in a fight. Look, I get he can be a dickhead but I’ve also seen him take on four other bikers, unarmed and wasted, and walk out of it alive with a trail of corpses behind him. You need all the friends you can get. Options that aren’t that cockhead D’Ardo.”

  She snags one last fry and then pushes the half eaten basket away from herself. She hasn’t eaten anywhere near enough and I frown back at her.

  Harbin looks her over and then sticks his hand out. “Harbin Jameson. That idiot is Roxas Kierstone. He likes to piss people off to see how they work, don’t be too offended. He was probably hoping you’d try to stab him so he could see your knife. You’re kind of a big deal around here, Wolf.”

  If Harbin had said that to D’Ardo he would’ve preened, made jokes about how fucking great he is, and milked the moment for everything it was worth.

  The kid almost looks embarrassed, uncomfortable with her skill and talent for killing being praised. She’s too fucking good for this life.

  “Right. Just so we’re clear, you three are the only people left that I trust. If the Wolf needs anything from you two, I’ll pay the price. Same goes the other way, little Wolf. I need us all across the situation if we’re all getting out alive.”

  The kid looks the bikers over and shrugs. “The Boar has always paid me well. Are you guys loyal to your Prez?”

  Fuck. Sore subject. Harbin stares at her for a second and then says, “We’re loyal Unseen. We don’t always see eye-to-eye with the Boar and his inner circle. Is that going to be a problem?”

  She shrugs. “I’m a pretty simple girl; you stay out of my way, don’t backstab me or sell me out, we’re cool.”

  Roxas leans back on his stool to keep his eyes on the hot piece of ass that walks past us. “Do we need to shake
on this shit or are we best fucking friends now?”

  I roll my eyes. “Right. We’re looking for the cartel Odie was sold to, the Wolf has been going through her contacts. Anything?”

  She rubs a hand over the back of her neck. “Yeah, a few leads I’m chasing. It’s a bit hard around school and the group home curfew but I’m a resourceful kind of girl.”

  Roxas tips his head back and roars with laughter. “School? Fuck me, I didn’t realize the infamous Wolf worried about that sort of shit.”

  I take another shot of whiskey. I’m going to need the whole bottle at this fucking rate. Harbin looks the same way.

  The kid raises an eyebrow. “My brain is how I’m getting out of this shit-hole city and this fucked up life of mine. Pretty sure you can’t say the same.”

  Huh.

  So she does have an escape plan. Good to know. “Thanks for looking into it for me.”

  She shrugs again, her eyes scanning over the bar. They snag on a few guys here and there but she doesn’t see anything that alarms her too much. “Odie is worth it. She’s worth the work of finding these guys and bleeding them out.”

  I knock her shoulder with mine, as close to a hug as I think she’ll allow anyone.

  I turn back to the other two and finally follow up on the question that’s been fucking killing me. “Did you find out who the missing guy is?”

  Roxas frowns and sucks at his beer. “Yeah. Good guy too, has his problems but solid as fuck. Did your girl say what happened to him.”

  Fuck. “He’s dead. A brutal death at that, one I’d like to hand out to the fuckers who bought her, you feel me?”

  The joking mood leaves him entirely. “Yeah man, I’m with you.”

  I take a few days off and stick around the warehouse.

  I spend a lot of time in the gym, working through the stances and positions the kid had shown Odie. She hates doing weights but she enjoys using the punching bags with me. She’s hot as fuck when she’s angry and smacking the shit out of it, better when she starts kicking it as well. I take her into the shooting range and make sure she’s getting some practice time in there too. After a few hours she’s fucking glowing with my praise, the feeling of self-sufficiency doing wonders for her broken sense of self.

  Then I watch her paint.

  She gets nervous if I start off watching her, so I always take my time in the shower or fixing myself something to eat. Then once she’s in the swing of things, I sit back with a beer and just watch her. The paintings she’s coming out with… fuck, she needs to be in a gallery somewhere, someday.

  The painting of the little seaside village she once lived in back in France is idyllic, the airplane out in the desert with two men walking back to it makes my teeth hurt, and the dozens of paintings of the sea outside the living room window, none of them quite right for her, blow me away.

  I ask her why she paints the view so often over dinner and she blushes into her soup. Yeah, she’s going through a soup phase. I’m not a fan but she’s happy so I keep my mouth shut. She’s trying to figure out what her life here in the States looks like and I’m not going to mess with that process.

  “My first morning here, I hadn’t seen the sun in weeks. I sat on the floor, just over there, and I watched the sunrise. I didn’t know if you were going to hurt me like those other men had and I didn’t know if you wanted to kill me, but those hours sitting there and watching the sunrise… that felt like a gift, mon monstre. Something so precious and vital to my survival… I felt like you had recharged me and I could take on whatever came. I had no idea what an amazing life I was going to have here. It makes that morning even more special to me.”

  She ducks her head away from me as she eats, dipping her spoon so fucking delicately. Not a single fucking slurp from this goddess, she’s fucking dainty.

  When we’re done eating, I pull her away from the dishes and over to the window, right over the spot she just said was so fucking amazing.

  “Stay here, baby girl. I’ll go grab the mattress.”

  She frowns at me, looking around like a bed frame is going to magically appear. I chuckle at her, stalking over to the bedroom to grab everything we need to lay out in the living room in comfort to watch the sun rise there together.

  The smile she gives me is as if I hung the fucking moon and stars for her.

  I get everything together and tuck her in one side, triple checking the alarms and locks before climbing in the other side, leaving the usual amount of space between us.

  She rolls over and molds herself to my side instantly.

  Holy fuck.

  I have a stern conversation with my dick but it’s no use. I’m as hard as fucking nails as she strokes my chest, grinning up at the sky as it slowly starts to turn pink. I lay there and plan out our lives, just as soon as I can get a handle on the situation at hand. I have to get the kid away from D’Ardo, kill everyone that’s ever wronged my girl, square things with the Chaos Demons, and figure out how to disarm a nuclear fucking bomb D’Ardo has hiding in his basement.

  No biggie.

  “Mon monstre?” Odie murmurs, and I bury my face in her hair.

  “Yeah, baby girl?”

  “I think I would like you to kiss me. I think I would like to try that, if you would like to.”

  If I would like to.

  As if I’m not laying here thinking about work and blood and bombs so I can distract my dick from how fucking perfect she is in my arms.

  “Yeah, baby girl, gimme those lips.” I murmur, and she tips her head back to look at me, her eyes clouded with lust for me.

  Fuck, I should’ve dragged this mattress out a little sooner.

  I lean down and kiss her softly, trying to be gentle and a gentleman and definitely not suck her bottom lip between my teeth and fucking nibble on her. Except that’s exactly what I do because I’m fucking weak and she’s everything to me.

  Her breath sucks in and I think I’ve fucked everything up.

  Then she moans.

  Fuck yes.

  I tug her until she’s a little more settled over my chest, one of my hands in her hair and tilting her head so I can kiss her deeply. The hesitancy in her burns away pretty fucking quick and one of her hands come out to cup my cheek, her thumb stroking over the tattoo under my eye.

  The hand that isn’t tangled in her hair runs down her back, stoking her spine gently until I get to that ass of hers… fuck me, I force my hand into a gentle squeeze but someday… someday that ass is going to be mine to spread open and squeeze and spank whenever the fuck I want. I’ll own every inch of her and she’ll own me too.

  Fuck, she purrs into my mouth and rubs herself against my chest, her thigh rubbing against my cock in my sweatpants.

  I’m going to fucking nut myself like a teenage boy.

  I pull away, staring up at her and she blinks those big blue eyes of hers. “Is this okay? Just this?”

  I nod, and bring her lips back down to mine, hungry for everything she’ll give me now. Fuck, she’s everything. Everything.

  I kiss her until the sky starts to brighten up, and then I lay there with her and watch the sunrise. She murmurs to me all of the colors she’ll need to paint this one, all of the mixtures she’s going to try and the techniques she’ll use. I understand none of it but I listen as if my life depends on it. I don’t want the moment to end, so even after she falls asleep on my chest I lay there, holding her against me, watching the waves crash against the beach.

  When I wake up that evening, right as the sun sets, I find Odie sitting cross-legged next to the mattress with a paint brush tucked in her hair and another in her hand as she works on the floor.

  The sunrise she paints is magnificent and I hang it above our bed. Something only for us.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Odie

  I decide to find my father.

  I don’t know if he is still alive, if my first husband killed him for lying about my virginal state, but I need to find the truth. Mon monstre go
es back out to work the day after we kissed in front of the living room window.

  It was the most perfect moment of my life so far.

  And the aftermath of that moment? Now, I sleep curled up safe in his arms every night. He kisses me all the time. When we wake, before we sleep, when he’s making us breakfast, and when I’m covered in paint and excited about my latest project. The only time he doesn’t kiss me is right after he gets home when there’s blood on his clothes and liquor on his breath.

  So I ask him about using the computer. He doesn’t ask me what for, just hands it over and tells me all of the codes. I stare at the search bar for a few minutes, as if typing my father’s name in will summon him like some demon from the depths of hell.

  Eventually, I get over my fear and look him up.

  He’s alive.

  He’s also in prison.

  I don’t feel any better. Well… I feel a little better that he’s had his liberties taken from him the way he kept me trapped for years. I search up my mother and find nothing. Not surprising, my father always kept us out of his business, that’s why he moved us around so much. Then I search for Louis and find nothing, no mention of an arrest or his death. His social media is minimal but there are a few photos of him at parties with his arms around beautiful women. I feel nothing, no betrayal or despair that he’s moved on from me.

  He probably never felt anything for me anyway.

  I was nothing but a pretty face for him.

  I search for all of the men who assaulted me, the ones whose names I can remember. Nothing. I wasn’t really expecting much but for there to be no trace… It feels a little insulting.

  I get up and try to shake my mood off. I can’t paint with these sorts of thoughts in my head, the jittering taking over my hands until I’m trembling with something that isn’t fear.