Chapter 24
Even though we’rein a hurry Kisten still insists on washing my hair simply because I enjoy it. It makes my heart so full it aches at how sweet that is. He’s this hardened badass to the rest of the world but is so gentle and caring with me. I wrap my hair in a towel for now since Kisten is a little concerned that Hera might burn down his kitchen just to spite him for not having Poptarts.
“I’ll brush it later, love.”
I don’t fight the smile on my face even though it’s probably goofy in a lovesick kind of way. I can’t help it. After our confessions last night, I’m feeling all gooey inside. I never thought I’d find happiness again in my life. Less than a week ago I was prepared to die, and now here I am in love with an amazing man who is protective yet is encouraging me to fight back.
Hera is sitting cross-legged on the kitchen counter twirling a knife in her hand. “I want pancakes and crispy bacon.”
“I’m not a short order cook,” Kisten says.
Hera turns her head slowly our direction. “I’m your guest and it’s rude not to feed your guests,” she says, then her hand flicks out and the knife flies across the kitchen and hits the cabinet with a thwonk. The cabinet that now has five knifes sticking out of it all in a perfect line.
“What the fuck, Hera!”
“I got bored.”
Kisten stomps into the kitchen stopping in front of her with his arms crossed over his chest. “Out of my kitchen or no pancakes and bacon for you.”
She rolls her eyes. “Nice dick, bad attitude. Such a shame.”
Kisten’s head falls back, and he mutters something about it being fucking hopeless. Hera jumps off the counter and heads my way. She looks like a predator that’s caught the scent of her prey and is ready to pounce.
“I’ll help make the pancakes,” I say quickly.
Hera grabs my arm, linking it with hers before I can walk past. “Nah, lover boy over there has it handled. I want to learn more about the present I got him.”
Kisten doesn’t seem overly concerned with this obviously unhinged woman dragging me away so I don’t argue. Hera plops on the couch backwards then lays down so her head is hanging off the edge nearly touching the ground and her feet are in the air. I’ve never seen anyone but a child sit that way.
“So Willow, tell me, how was life as a sex slave?”
My mouth drops open in shock. What the hell? Who asks shit like that? This chick really is freaking insane. I have no idea how to even put it into words and don’t even know if I want to answer her, but she doesn’t seem to be the type to let things go.
“Awful.” I don’t elaborate and I add enough bitchiness into my tone that I hope she realizes that’s not something I want to discuss.
“Hmm… Who’s the most famous person that bought you?”
Again, my mouth drops open. I want to say fuck off, but maybe if I tell this crazy lady that kills for a living, she’ll visit him in his bed at night. I imagine her taking one of those knives and slicing his dick off. Maybe she could choke him to death with it… Lord knows that’s my favorite way to mentally kill every man that touched me.
“Politian or celebrity?” I ask to clarify.
She rolls over, sitting upright, then leans into my face with a dangerous glint in her eyes. “Both, my darling.”
Her calling me ‘my darling’ is unsettling. Hopefully it means she likes me and not that she’s planning on dissecting me.
“Politian is a toss-up, really. There’s Senator Thomas and Police Commissioner Bassard. If I had to pick the worst of the two it would be Bassard. He’s more than a little violent. He always has to pay extra for damaging the merchandise. I was out for a week afterwards. He broke another girl’s arm in two places. The next day they disposed of her.”
“Name?” Hera barks.
“Lisette. She was sixteen. Honestly, whatever was done to her before she came to Mecca broke her. Death was probably a mercy.” I hate saying it, but it’s the truth. Sometimes in that life death is a better option. Not everyone can withstand the rapes and torture.
Hera looks feral. I have a feeling Bassard is going to have a really bad day sometime soon. I wonder if Hera will take me with her. I’d love to see the show, maybe get a couple hits in too.
“What about the senator?” she asks.
I shrug. “He’s not as violent but does his best to break the girls’ minds. It’s almost worse than being beaten. One of the others that Kisten saved with me was practically catatonic after a couple hours with him. Reghan was never quite the same after that.”
“They need to die,” Hera says like it’s been decided, and they might as well already be six feet under.
“Yes, they do. Painfully. I’ve dreamed of killing them. All of them. I remember them all. I would become the most prolific serial killer the world has ever seen if I murdered all of them. It’s tempting. Too bad I don’t know all their names. Not all of them bragged about how important they are.”
“If you’re going to do something you should always strive to be the best,” Hera says like it’s perfectly reasonable to become the best serial killer. “Who’s the celebrity?”
“Paxton Loust.”
“The actor?”
“Yep. He’s not one of the worst. There were more unremarkable men that were way worse, but he’s the most famous celebrity. He brags about all his awards and how much money he earns and how he could buy his own slave, but he likes variety. Pretty sure the only reason he goes to Mecca and not just a high-class prostitute is because prostitutes can be bought, and slaves have zero freedom.”
Hera rolls her eyes. “Boring.”
I almost laugh at her assessment. I suppose compared to others he is pretty boring and mostly benign as far as someone who pays to fuck an unwilling sex slave.
Kisten walks into the room and narrows his eyes at Hera. “Ever heard of personal space?”
I do laugh at that because she’s basically in my lap with how close she’s gotten as I talked. I’m surprised to find that I’m no longer concerned that Hera is going to murder me. In fact, I think I could be her friend under the right circumstances.
“Foods done. Come eat before it gets cold,” Kisten says.
Hera hops up and skips to the table.
“You okay, love?”
“Yep. All good.”
“What did she want to know?”
“She asked what it was like to be a sex slave.”
Kisten lets out a menacing sound and starts stomping towards the table where Hera is sitting. Of course she’s not on a chair, she’s sitting cross-legged on top of the table eating her pancakes with a knife.
“What the fuck, Hera!”
I grab his arm before he can do something crazy like attack the little psycho. “It’s fine. She’s probably going to kill three very bad men that deserve to die. I consider it an even trade.”
Hera laughs. “I like her. Did you know I gifted you with a little serial killer?”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not a serial killer.”
“Yet, my darling. Stick with me and I’ll make all your dreams come true.”
Jesus. Fucking psycho.
Kisten takes a seat and I sit on his lap like normal. Hera makes a gagging sound when he feeds me a bite of bacon. I smirk. Without discussing it Kisten and I play up the lovey-dovey while we eat. He kisses away a drop of syrup from my bottom lip and I nip his fingers when he feeds me bacon.
“You’re too fucking cute. Like you were made for each other or some shit. I’ll be at the warehouse,” Hera says. She blows us a kiss as the elevator doors close.
“She is one scary woman,” I say.
Kisten chuckles. “She’s a sociopath with a sadistic streak a mile wide.”
“When are we meeting your friends?” I ask.
“They’ll be here in a couple hours. We’re meeting downstairs instead of going to the warehouse in case Nolan has someone watching. I don’t want to tip our hand.”
“You have an apartment downstairs?”
“I own the top two floors of the building. There’s a private gym and a set up kind of like the conference and tech room at the warehouse. Though this is the first time I’ve needed to use it. The warehouse is compromised and will be useless after this. I’ll have to burn it and find a new location.”
“Burn it?” I ask, surprised.
“Can’t exactly sell a property that’s been used for illegal activities. Emptying everything out and burning it down is the only way to get rid of all the evidence.”
“Seems like a waste, but you’re right that it’s not safe anymore. You should look for two properties next time. One for the meetings with everyone and one for your tech people and your inner circle,” I say.
“You’re right. It was easier in the beginning before I brought in so many other people. It was bound to go sideways at some point.”
I kiss him softly. “You do a good thing. Snakes like Nolan should be shot.”
“I have plans for Nolan.”
“Good. He’s a piece of shit.”
“I need to do some work before everyone gets here.”
“You have a job?”
He laughs. “Did you think I was a bum?”
“Well, no… but you said the money from the trafficking rings funds what you do.”
“Yes, it funds Hope House and all the other expenses incurred, but I don’t use a penny of that for personal use. I work with Matthew, and I freelance in cyber security. Plus, I’m damn good with investments.”
“Have I told you how amazing you are?”
He smiles. “Not in at least ten minutes.”
“You’re amazing, Kisten. I love you.”
He cups my cheek and kisses me. “I love you too, beauty. You can watch TV and relax or take a nap while I work if you want.”
I scrunch up my nose. “Can I sit in your office? I can draw. I’ll be super quiet. Unless me being there will distract you.”
“You’re my favorite distraction. Go grab your sketchbook, love.”
Kisten is sitting behind a large modern desk with a glass top. There are multiple screens on top, but little else. I make myself comfortable on the small couch. I have a direct view of Kisten from my spot on the couch which is perfect. I take out one of the fancy pencils and open my sketchbook. The pencil touches the paper and I get lost in my drawing. I thought I would’ve been rusty or maybe even unable to draw since it’s been years, but the pencil is like an extension of my creativity like it used to be.
The only soundsin the room are the scratch of my pencil and the soft tapping of Kisten’s fingers on the keyboard. The quiet is refreshing. I could talk to him all day every day and never get tired of it, but being with him this way is perfect too. I can see our future spread out in front of me and I love what I envision. I pray that tonight goes well because I’m ready to put that part of my life behind me and start a new one with Kisten.
“Gunner just texted, they’re here,” Kisten says making me jump. “Sorry, love. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Not your fault. I was kind of absorbed in what I was doing.”
“Can I see?” he asks.
I look at the sketch and nibble my bottom lip wondering what he will think. This is the third sketch of Kisten… well… Kisten and me. The first two are just him. I hold my breath as I hand him the sketchbook opened to the first page. A look of surprise comes over his face and he looks from the sketch to me and back again.
“This is amazing, Willow.”
My cheeks heat with a blush. “I was afraid I forgot how to draw…”
He laughs. “You most certainly did not. You’re beyond talented.”
He flips to the next page, and he smiles. This one is a sketch of Kisten sleeping that I did from memory. He looks peaceful without the hard edges he has when he’s awake. I love that vulnerable side of him. It’s a side that no one other than me sees and I cherish it.
“You did this from memory?”
I nod. He starts to turn the page and I have a sudden urge to yank the sketchbook out of his hands. “That one’s not finished. Maybe you should wait to look at it…”
He raises a brow and studies me. “You’re blushing, love. Now I have to look.”
I cover my face with my hands so I don’t have to see his reaction. He sucks in a breath and groans. “Fuck, Willow. That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Better than any porn ever made.”
I peek out from between my fingers to find him staring intently at the drawing. I don’t know what came over me when I started the sketch. I went from drawing Kisten sleeping to thinking about how I woke up with his cock deep inside me and how turned on it made me. I sat up and started riding him even though he was still asleep. It was like I had no control over my own body. All I could do was slake the need burning inside me.
The sketch is of his cock inside me as I ride him from my viewpoint. I sketched everything from me cupping my breast and teasing my nipple to his cut abs. You can see in explicit detail how my pussy stretches around his cock. It’s extremely erotic and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t turn me on to draw it.
“I’m tempted to say fuck the meeting and take you to bed and reenact this moment.”
“That sounds a lot more enjoyable than this meeting is going to be, but they came a long way to help, and we need to prepare for tonight. We can’t fail.”
We hold hands as we ride the elevator down. It opens to a foyer that has two doors on either side. He leads me to the door on the left that’s standing open. The sound of several men’s voices greets us when we enter. There’s a short hallway that opens into an open plan room that is arranged in four parts. One corner has desks with half a dozen computer monitors, the other has a huge sectional couch that looks like a giant horseshoe with an oversized square coffee table in front of it. There’s a small kitchenette with a sink, microwave, fridge, and not much else. The rest of the space is a table with at least twenty seats.
The room falls quiet when they notice us… more like when they notice me. I immediately feel uncomfortable and partially hide behind Kisten. I know these are friends, but they are all huge and scary looking. They look like how you’d expect an outlaw to look. There’s nothing civilized about them.
The biggest man heads our way, and it takes a huge amount of self-control to not completely hide behind Kisten. Why the hell am I scared among friends? It’s definitely not rational. I watch the leather clad man approach and shake hands with Kisten.
“Hey, man. Glad you called. Boston was a bust and we could use a little stress relief. Dead ends always piss us off real good.”
“Appreciate you coming. We’re going to need all the help you can give,” Kisten says.
The man looks at me and smiles making his gruff face transform completely. He no longer looks like a scary biker. “Hi sweetheart. Name’s Gunner,” he says in a gentle tone, holding his hand out for me to shake.
I step out from behind Kisten and place my hand in his. He looks surprised when I give him a firm handshake. I might be a scaredy cat right now, but I know how much people judge a handshake. That’s one of the many lessons Dad taught me. A strong handshake is a good first impression and tells you a lot about the person.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Willow.” I’m super proud of myself because my voice doesn’t shake even a little when I speak.
Yay me!
“Come meet the guys. I know we look rough around the edges, but I assure you we’d rather cut off our own hands than hurt a woman. You’re safe with any of us. We’ll protect you with our lives tonight.”
My breath catches when I see every man nod at Gunner’s words. How can perfect strangers offer to protect someone with their lives? It’s crazy, yet I can see the truth written on all their faces. Gunner introduces me to all his men… Trevor, Duke, Cutter, Zeke, Cash, Doc, Joker, and Blaze. All of them come shake my hand as they are introduced which is endearing. Especially when they try to be all delicate with their handshake until they feel my firm grip. I can tell I’ve earned their respect and that means a lot to me.
The only guy that gives me pause is Cutter. He hasn’t stopped looking at me since I stepped away from Kisten. I’m not sure why. It’s not in a predatory way, but more like he’s trying to figure out some great puzzle.
We gather around the table, Kisten pulling me onto his lap like always. Definitely my favorite place to be. He gives them the rundown on Mecca and the mansion, then explains the reason we called them for help. They are furious when they find out that the Irish could be involved. They weren’t too surprised by the Russians, apparently, they are known for being unscrupulous.
By the time Kisten’s explained everything and they’ve asked us both at least a dozen questions the rest of our crew shows up. Mauve pulled through in getting her brother here. There’s no denying that Jett is her brother, they have the exact same eyes and hair. He brought ten men with him that he doesn’t take the time to introduce. They are all impeccably dressed in suits and wordlessly take up spots unobtrusively standing around the room.
T.J. brings two guys with him that look like they just broke out of jail. Considering they go by Rat and Deuce, it’s a safe assumption. Kisten seems to know them and doesn’t appear upset that they’re here so they must be okay. Not that I’ll be spending any time making friends with them. I’ve got nine new biker friends; I don’t need to make friends with two Attica escapees.
Davis comes in with a beast of a man. I’ve never seen anyone as big as him before, but even with his size he’s not as intimidating as any of the bikers. And when he smiles at me, showing two dimples, I decide he’s definitely a big teddy bear. I can’t hold back my laugh when Davis introduces him as Bear. He looks at me with amusement.
“Something funny, little one?”
“Just a coincidence that your name’s Bear because I was thinking you’re probably a big teddy bear under all that bigness.”
Davis laughs. “He’s a total teddy bear to the ladies. Anyone else and he’s a violent son of a bitch.”
I smile. “Good. We need some violent son of a bitches on our team.”
Bear winks at me and takes a seat on the sectional making it look way smaller than it is.
Sissy and Chante show up next, they freeze in the doorway and take in all the muscle.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Please tell me at least one of you is single,” Chante says, fanning herself.
I choke on a laugh when Bear raises his hand. Chante looks at him appraisingly, then gives a single nod. I can’t wait to see what happens with that. After her stumpy pencil dick guy, she deserves better. It would be a real shame if Bear isn’t packing down there. I somehow manage to keep from looking at his crotch to gauge if he’s proportionate.
Shawn and his guys are the last to show up. They are all dressed the same in all black. Black shirt that looks painted to their muscles, military style black pants, and black books. They look like a well-oiled machine. It’s obvious they’re all ex-military even without the close. There’s just something about the way military guys carry themselves.
“Willow, this is Hank, Tex, Smith, and Bomber. You’ll meet Goose later; he’s watching the warehouse. These are the guys that’ll have your six tonight.”
My new biker friends grumble their displeasure. Shawn looks them over but says nothing. I have a suspicion that I’ll have at least one of my new biker buddies at my side too. The more the merrier on this little adventure.
“Any problems at the warehouse?” Kisten asks.
Shawn nods. “Yeah, there’re four guys watching it. They’ve been there all day and are doing a shit job of staying under the radar. If they’re part of the Irish, they are low level and poorly trained. Goose could’ve killed them ten times over by now and they wouldn’t have seen it coming. Pathetic.”
“That could mean it’s Nolan working on his own. Seamus wouldn’t send idiots to do such an important job,” Kisten says.
“Possibly. I’d prefer we go into this with the expectation that the Irish are against us,” Shawn replies.
“I have an idea for that,” Jett says with a smile. “The Italians here in the city are less than happy with the Irish right now—Nolan specifically. They’ve made it known they’d be happy to help us collect them before they infiltrate the mansion and hold them for safekeeping to question later. They only request that they get Nolan as payment.”
Kisten looks at me. Nolan is one of the men that hurt me, and he knows that his death is personal to me. I kiss his cheek in thanks for taking my wants into consideration.
“If we let them have Nolan, I want a guarantee that his death will be slow and painful. Bonus points if they chop off his dick and shove it down his throat so he can choke on it as the grand finale. And I want photographic evidence that he’s been dealt with. He’s not allowed to survive,” I say. Every single man in the room winces when I mention cutting off his dick. It amuses me.
“Damn, girl. Savage. I like it,” Chante says making the other girls laugh.
“I’m sure that can be arranged,” Jett says.
“Then we have a deal.”
He nods and pulls out his phone and starts typing. Likely telling the local Italians that they’re a go for tonight. It would be a big help if they took the Irish off the board before we start, but I’m not going to rely on that because even well-laid plans fail.
The next two hours are spent going over the plan. Me, Kisten, Cutter, Zeke, Shawn, and his team will be going to Mecca. Along with the men in the original plan that we aren’t sure are on our side. Sissy and her team as well as Doc will be ready to collect the women we rescue and take them to safety.
Jett and his sentries along with however many local Italians will be going to the mansion where the Irish are set to go based on the original plan. Davis will be going to the mansion as planned. T.J. is going to play like he decided he doesn’t want to sit this one out and Rat and Deuce are joining so there won’t be questions when he shows up. Several of the others from the meeting yesterday will be heading to the mansion too. Since we aren’t sure about their loyalties we aren’t counting on them as allies.
Gunner, Duke, Cash, Joker, Trevor, and Blaze will be on standby to enter the mansion once the Irish are dealt with and they hopefully know who is against us. They’ll be able to clean up the traitors from behind. Mauve, Chante, and Bear will be nearby with a team to get the women from the mansion to safety.
We have a solid plan. Even going into it with an unknown number of traitors and who knows how many Russians we have a good chance of success. I hope we can get all of the women out safely. I look around at all the men and women who are prepared to go into a deadly fight and say a little prayer that we all make it home safely.
Everyone breaks off into groups and are chatting. There’s laughter and teasing. The calm before the storm. I’m still in Kisten’s lap. He’s playing with my hair as he talks with Shawn about sniper training. Tex laughs when he hears that I want to learn how to shoot a sniper rifle. The other guys don’t laugh, but I can see doubt in their eyes when Kisten and Shawn tell them about my accuracy.
I hate that they doubt me, but I can understand. It’s not every day you meet an ex-sex slave that’s been free less than a week and learned to shoot a gun three days ago and is on the level of an expert marksman with handguns and short distance rifles and shotguns.
I look around the room and find T.J. talking to Gunner. “Hey T.J.!” I shout above the din of voices.
Every head in the room turns towards me. Guess my quietness has worn out now that I’m feeling comfortable with everyone… maybe not Rat and Deuce, they are still sketchy as fuck.
“What’s up, L.M.S.?” I give him a confused look, then giggle—L.M.S: Little Miss Sharpshooter.
“Do you still have that video on your phone?” I ask.
“You mean the one of you fucking wrecking the obstacle course?”
“Yeah, that one.”
“Of course.”
“Could you please show Tex? He’s got some concerns about my ability to not get dead tomorrow,” I say sardonically.
T.J. shakes his head and hands his phone over with the video cued up. I hit play and hold the phone so Tex and the others can watch.
“Impressive,” Hank says.
“Do you believe me now?” I ask Tex.
He still looks skeptical. I don’t know what else I can do to convince him I can handle myself. I guess it doesn’t really matter because he’s going to have his own part to play tonight and when he sees me in action, he will realize I can hold my own.
“Stubborn fucker,” T.J. mumbles.
He takes his phone back and pulls up another video that I haven’t seen yet. It’s from when I was shooting at the lanes. It starts with Kisten correcting my position. I take the shot and Kisten scrubs a hand down his face. The worry is plain on my face when I look at him as the paper target glides up behind me. There’s a single hole dead center in the forehead.
More of the guys have gathered around trying to watch the video. It seems everyone wants to see me shoot. I’m excited to see how they react. I hope more people are like T.J. than like Tex. I want them to see me as an asset. I’m part of the team whether they like it or not.
I watch myself shoot the second paper until the top of the silhouettes head is missing. Everyone is silently watching to see what happens next. The third target is put up with Kisten’s dots added. This time I’m using a new gun and even with the unfamiliarity I don’t miss a single shot. The guys are murmuring their surprise and how awesome I am. It feels incredible to have people building me up instead of degrading me.
“Have you seen enough yet?” T.J. asks Tex with a less than friendly tone.
“She should be fine,” Tex says. I’m not one hundred percent sure, but there might be a little bit of admiration in his eyes when he says it. I’m taking it as a win either way.
“She’ll be more than fine. She’s going to outshoot us all,” Gunner says.
“Is that a challenge?” I ask.
Kisten growls. “No challenges.”
I pout at him. “I like challenges.”
“Focus on keeping yourself safe. That’s the challenge.”
“Yes, sir,” I say cheekily.
His cock twitches under my ass and he squeezes my thigh in warning. I wiggle a little like I’m finding a more comfortable position which earns me a nip on my ear. “Behave, love. I’d hate to have to spank you right here in front of all your new friends before fucking you,” he whispers for my ears only.
My whole body flushes with heat. I’ve been naked in front of an audience a lot having all kinds of things done to me, so it surprises the hell out of me when I’m not completely appalled by the idea. Kisten broke through the wall I had around my sexuality and now it’s like I’m starving for orgasms.
I jump when the door swings open and slams against the wall. Over a dozen guns are pulled and pointed at the door where Hera is standing holding a large, giftwrapped box.
“Now this is a welcome! Kisten take note, greeting guests with guns good, greeting guests with dick bad,” she says then laughs manically when he looks at her like he wants to kill her.
“You let yourself into my fucking bedroom while we were sleeping. Not my fault that you saw my dick.”
“Don’t be dramatic. It’s a good dick. And that pussy…” she kisses her fingertips… “chef’s kiss. A total masterpiece.”
My face turns a million shades of red. “Hera!” I shout.
“Don’t be embarrassed, darling. Everyone here has either seen a pussy or has one. Well, maybe not Rat.” She waves her hand like dismissively in his direction. Before he can charge across the room, Deuce puts a firm hand on his shoulder. Considering there’s already a knife in Hera’s hand it’s a damn good thing he stopped him. How she was able to balance the box in one hand while magically pulling the knife, I’ll never know. Maybe she’ll teach me her tricks.
Hera sets the big box in front of me. “Tada!”
“What is it?” I ask, half scared it might be something that’s dead… or deadly and alive.
She rolls her eyes. “A present for the present, of course. Open it. Chop chop!”
I pull the paper open carefully like I’m disassembling a bomb. God, what if it’s a bomb? Surely not. She seemed to like me earlier. Though if she is a sociopath then does she even like anyone? I open the box and breathe a sigh of relief that nothing jumps out at me. I push aside the tissue paper and gasp at what’s inside.
I look up at Hera with a huge smile. I start pulling things out and setting them on the table. There’s a pair of skintight black leather pants, a black shirt that looks like a sexier version of what Shawn’s wearing, a black bra that makes me blush to see, and a buttery soft pair of knee-high black boots.
“I love it! I have my own badass uniform now.”
Hera smirks. “Keep looking. I saved the best for last.”
I pull the rest of the tissue paper out and gasp. I reach in and pull out a Glock 43X that is black with pink on the grip. I check to see if it’s loaded—it is—I slide the clip back in and set it on the table. I pull out a matching gun with giddy excitement. I check it as well before setting it on the table. There’s a leather holster that will put a gun on each hip. The holster wraps around each thigh to stabilize the guns, so I won’t have to worry about anything flopping around while I run.
There’s also an assortment of knives that I take out and line up on the table beside the guns. Each of them has some sort of pink accent on them. They are freaking perfect. I touch each item reverently not sure what to say to this enigma of a woman. Aside from Kisten, she’s the first person to really see me and do something kind without any ulterior motive. I’m not sure how I know it, but Hera did this because she wanted to do something nice for me. I suppose this is how I found myself a sociopath for a new best friend. Buying someone guns is definitely not a causal friendship kind of gift.
Without even thinking I jump off Kisten’s lap and throw myself at Hera. She makes an oomph sound when I hug her. She stands still as a statue while I hug her like she has no idea what to do. I laugh at her awkwardness.
“It’s called a hug. You wrap your arms around another person and give a gentle squeeze. It’s a sign of affection,” I tell her.
She huffs and when I think she’s going to push me off her she wraps her arms around me instead. There’s a round of what the fucks and what the hell is happenings from the people watching. It makes me laugh again. Hera drops her arms and I step away, probably pushed her enough for one day.
“Thank you, Hera. You’re like my Fairy Godmother.”
She pats the top of my head like I’m a toddler. “You’re welcome. Grab your goodies, us girls need to get gussied up for our night on the town.”
I look at Kisten and he shakes his head with an amused look on his face. “Want me to go up with you?”
“No, no, no! No dicks allowed to this pussy party,” Hera says as she starts tossing my new things back in the box. I wince at the sound of the guns hitting the knives.
“Fuck, woman. You trying to shoot someone?” T.J. barks.
“Don’t worry, lovekins. If I wanted to shoot someone it wouldn’t be on accident.”
His jaw ticks when she calls him lovekins because everyone in the room is fighting back laughter. I can’t really tell if T.J. likes her or if they have some kind of love/hate frenemies with benefits situation going on. I’ll have to question Hera sometime. Not tonight, but soon.
I kiss Kisten and for the first time since he rescued me, I only feel a twinge of anxiety at walking away from him. Maybe more than a twinge, but with Hera, Mauve, Sissy, and Chante with me it’s a little less overwhelming. Before I have a chance to enter the code for the elevator Hera does something and it starts moving up.
“I need one of those,” Mauve says. “You always have the best toys.”
“I love to play.”
I follow Hera through the apartment and to Kisten’s bedroom. She unceremoniously dumps the box out onto the bed. She really is going to accidently shoot something or someone if she’s not more careful.
“Strip.”
I look at the women and feel self-conscious. They are all knockouts with curves in all the right places and I’m still way too skinny with small boobs and hips that are too wide for my size. It’s funny that I’ve spent more time naked over the last six years than in clothes, but being in front of four women I want to be friends with makes me cringe.
“Don’t be shy, darling. I’ve already seen the goods,” Hera says.
Good point. I try not to overthink it as I toe off my shoes and take off my clothes. I fight the urge to wrap my arms around my middle to hide the fact that you can still see my ribs. It’s not a pretty sight. I don’t know how Kisten can look past it. I’m not going to question it though because every look and every touch tells me how much he wants me. I won’t doubt that ever.
Hera looks at my plain white panties and scoffs. She goes to the drawers and starts searching through them, messing up all of Kisten’s neatly folded clothes. “Uh, my stuff is still in the guest room.”
“What an asshole. He’ll fuck you in his bed, but makes you keep your clothes in the other room?”
“Well, no… we’ve not really been home much and when we are moving my clothes is sort of the last thing on our minds,” I say.
“That makes more sense. Glad I don’t have to kill him for being a dick to you.”
She disappears into the guest room and comes back with my suitcase overflowing with all the things I had neatly sorted on the bed. She drops it on the floor and digs until she finds a pair of black panties. They aren’t anything special and I can tell she’s still dissatisfied.
“You need new lingerie. I knew I should’ve bought that hot pink g-string. Next time…”
I pull on the black panties and the leather pants. They fit like a dream and are surprisingly comfortable. They also have hidden pockets that are perfect for some of the knives that I didn’t notice before. Hera tosses me the black bra she brought, and I frown.
“You do know my boobs are small enough I don’t need a bra, right?”
“It’s not for your itty bitty titties. It’s for weapons.”
I look at her in confusion. She takes the bra from me and pulls a thin blade from where the underwire should be.
“Holy shit! Where did you get that?” Mauve asks.
“It’s my personal design. 34DD, right?”
Mauve nods. “Yes!”
“Hey, what about us?” Sissy complains pointing to herself and Chante.
“Is this what having girlfriends is like? Are you always this needy?” Hera asks me whispering loud enough the others hear.
“I have no idea. This is the first time I’ve had female friends that weren’t also slaves,” I say.
“Fine… three stabby bras coming up.”
I snort. “Stabby bras?”
“It’s a work in progress. Finish dressing. We’ve got much work to do!”
Hera drags me to the bathroom with my toiletry bag in her hand. She sits on the counter and has me stand in front of her so we’re eye level. The next twenty minutes is spent on hair and makeup. Hera boldly lines both the tops and bottoms of my eyelids and adds a thick coat of mascara. The only other makeup she uses is lipstick in a deep red that looks almost like blood. She has me turn and she braids my hair in some intricate style I’ve never seen before.
“Now we accessorize.”
Hera shows me how to put on the holsters and where the knives are meant to go along with extra magazines for the guns. Next, she helps me put the wrist sheath on and how to pull the knife, even with the tight sleeve you can’t tell there’s a knife hidden there. She’s seriously thought of everything. The last thing she adds are the two stiletto knives made to look like chopsticks. She weaves them into my braid so they are tightly in place. It takes barely any effort to pull the slim blade from the sheath.
“All done!” Hera declares, then shoves me in front of the floor length mirror.
I barely recognize the woman in front of me. I look like a total badass. My makeup is edgier than I’ve ever worn it and my hair is perfect. I need Hera to teach me this braid because it is so great for my thick hair. Better than any regular braid for sure. The outfit is insane. I look like some kind of assassin.
The black shirt clings to my body and despite my small boobs between the low neckline and the stabby bra I have a small amount of cleavage. The leather pants are doing amazing things for my ass and the boots are hot. You can’t even tell that I have five hidden knives tucked in various spots on my pants and boots. Somehow the holster is made in a way that the guns are close to my body so with the black on black you can barely tell they are there. The only color visible is the small amount of pink on my guns.
“I look like a badass,” I say excitedly.
“Just like a serial killer in training,” Hera says with a dreamy look on her face. Annnd her crazy is showing again.
“Uhh… Why would Willow be a serial killer?” Sissy asks.
Hera levels a look that would wilt an entire field of the hardiest flowers. Sissy swallows thickly and quickly looks away. The other girls catch the hint and don’t ask. Hera is totally going to be my best friend. I thank Hera again indicating my reflection in the mirror, but she knows it’s for more than that. She isn’t going to tell anyone about what we talked about this morning.
Mauve’s phone rings. “Yeah? Okay, we’re ready.” She hangs up the phone. “The guys are ready. Everyone that’s supposed to be at the warehouse is heading over now.”
Kisten strides into the room and stops dead in his tracks when he sees me.
“Holy fuck. Jesus. Are you trying to kill me, Hera? I thought we were friends,” he says.
“We are friends. You can thank me later for wrapping my present to you when you unwrap all that hotness.”
I giggle. “I guess I look okay?”
Kisten yanks me to his chest. “You look like a warrior ready for battle. A sexy warrior that I can’t wait to ravage later.”
I nip his chin. “We better go. I want this done.”