The Sins that Ruin (Obsidian Knights Secret Society #3)

31. Malone

THIRTY-ONE

I know who Johann fucking Dunkel is.

There’s a whole dossier on him and his vile ways. He’s a middleman talking it up big. But he’s from Dark Desires, or at least, he’s worked with them. The business card doesn’t have that information on it, so he might have gone his own way.

Him here, though, offering that kind of fucking service to me? To the man he thinks I am?

No, this is different. Bigger.

I expected to flush someone out tonight. The message I got was that someone would be here, and I said I’d be putting on a show with my fiancée. And if they had the information on her cousin that I wanted, they had plenty of time from when I left that playroom to approach me.

I asked for a card to be handed over along with an offer I couldn’t refuse.

Play games with them, be dismissive, and the kinds of jerkoffs who take teenage girls to get their hands on a fucking list will jump through hoops. Put themselves exactly where I want them.

But if he thinks he’s going to touch Scarlett, I’ll kill him where he stands.

As I pass my security on the way to my office, I position myself between him and Scarlett.

Her ass looks fucking amazing, and I’m still a fucking asshole enough to enjoy it while she walks. The lines and crisscrosses on her flesh from her hour and a half in the playroom, along with the whip marks, are pure fucking jerkoff material. And I’d prefer to be the only one looking at her.

The guy’s talking about the job he’s got planned for her. Under the words is something uglier. Like forced sex on tape. Things she won’t be signing up for.

When we get to my office, he gets quiet.

“Talk,” I say to Dunkel, walking to the bar to make myself a drink. I don’t offer either of them one.

“Can I try her?” And the fucker licks his fat lips.

I cast a look at Scarlett, who’s holding her hands in front of her a little too tight. And I nod at her. “Scarlett?”

“Y-yes, Sir?”

“There’s a dress in the bathroom. Put it on.”

She swallows, the vein in her throat pulsating. I lean against the bar, take a sip of my drink, then pick up the pack of cigarettes sitting on top. I shake one out and light it.

Blowing out a stream of smoke, I say, “Thing is, Dunkel, I don’t fucking share. And I certainly don’t share the woman I’m going to marry. So you can either leave or give me the message.”

“They want the list.”

“Who,” I say, “are they?”

He doesn’t answer and he glances at the door behind him and at me, no doubt trying to calculate if he can make it out before I can reach him. I set the door to lock automatically this afternoon. He can’t get out. He doesn’t know the code.

“There’s an easy or hard way.”

The man swallows as I straighten up. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see that Scarlett’s stepped out of the bathroom, wearing the slinky red dress I put in there for her.

I’m fucking impressed she said what she said and came out willingly. I hoped she would, but it would have worked if she’d protested, too.

“The easy way allows you to leave here alive.”

“I don’t know who sent me,” he says. “I’m a messenger. I got paid, and I wanted—I thought this would be an easy way to meet you, maybe go into business together.”

“With my woman?”

The man swallows. “She’s perfect. Younger is better, though.”

“As in, underage?” I ask, my voice dripping with disgust.

But the moron nods. “Fifteen, sixteen is a prime age. For the less adventurous, a young-looking seventeen to eighteen. But there’s a market for girls her age. She’s what? Twenty-one?”

I narrow my eyes. “What’s the fucking message?”

“They want the client list for the girl’s return. She’s fine, hasn’t been touched. But you only get forty-eight hours. Someone will be in contact.”

“I’ll assume the forty-eight hours will be from when they contact me. Make sure they understand that.” I smile and take another drag on my cigarette. “And you don’t know who the client is?”

“No. I do for-hire work, no questions asked. Along with the film work, ever since I parted ways with Dark Desires. I make extra delivering messages. That’s it.”

He backs off as I approach.

“Door’s locked.” I don’t look at her as I hold out the cigarette. “Take this, Red.”

She does. Her fingers are cold, yet still send a zing through me as they touch.

“You’re a piece of shit, Dunkel.”

I close my hand into a fist and punch him hard in the face. He reels back into the door. I let the impact and sting absorb back into my body as his nose spurts blood.

“I said I don’t know. It’s a message. I got an email with the details. I get paid when they contact you. I’m supposed to send an email back confirming you’re going to get the list for the girl’s release.”

I grab him by his lapel and haul him up against the door. Then I let go, grab his head, and slam it into the door. He falls to the ground with a loud groan.

Leaping on him, I start pounding my fists into his head. “You motherfucking sick piece of shit. You’re talking child porn. Fifteen? I should fucking kill you.”

Scarlett doesn’t say a goddamn thing as I pummel the living shit out of him.

It’s only when the man starts to fade that she speaks.

“Malone? Malone?” Her voice comes from a distance, cutting through the buzzing in my head. “Malone! If you kill him, he can’t get that message back. We can’t save Amelia if he’s dead.”

“Fuck. Fuck!” I punch him once more for good measure. Then I get up and press the buzzer on my desk. “I need cleanup.”

Then I cross to the door and unlock it.

Smith and two bouncers appear. They take the guy between them.

“Jesus, Malone,” Smith says. “What the fuck?”

“He likes making forced homemade porn with fifteen-year-old girls.”

“Oh. And you let him live because?” he asks me, voice hardening.

I glance at Scarlett who’s still holding the cigarette. There’s not that much left, but I ease it from her fingers and finish it. “He needs to contact the kidnappers. They want the client list.”

Now he glances at Scarlett. “Does she know where it’s located?”

“She doesn’t know where it is, but she’s going to help me look. Tomorrow she’s taking the day off and we’re going to the docks. The office there.” I give her a small smile, but she doesn’t return it.

I don’t expect her to.

“She can speak for herself,” Scarlett mutters.

“Smith, Scarlett. Scarlett, Smith. Just Smith.” I motion to the bouncers. “Take him, make sure he does what he needs to do, and then set him free. A few blocks from here.”

One of them nods. “Yes, sir.”

“How long?”

“Dickwad said forty-eight hours. They’ll be in touch, so I told fuckface Dunkel that I expect that forty-eight hours to be from when they contact me. It’ll be tomorrow sometime. Until then, we’ll keep trying to find them.” Now I hold my hand out to Scarlett, aware that Smith’s watching closely, the asshole. “Let’s get you the fuck home.”

Smith mutters, “Home.”

I ignore him.

Scarlett puts her hand in mine and it’s still cold. She had an intense session, and she didn’t get the aftercare that she needed, not fully. I do actually feel bad about that. The sins of her father aren’t hers. She wasn’t even born. I’m still killing him when this is all done, though. But she deserves more in aftercare.

I rub my thumb over the back of her hand. And then I glance at Smith.

“You want me to get Orion and Mercer?”

“Have them standing by. We don’t know how deep this goes.” I tug her toward the door. “And let Jones know the latest.”

She’s a little pale as we leave through the back and get into my waiting car. I ease Scarlett against me to warm her.

“I don’t know why I’m cold.”

“Because I beat the fuck out of someone?” I ask, even though I know why.

She shakes her head. “No, I wanted you to. If he had something to do with Amelia… And even if he didn’t?” She shudders, then presses her face to my side for a moment. “The way he talked about other girls… it was vile.”

“And you.”

“Yes, but I trusted you.” There’s something else in those words. Something that sounds like don’t let me down.

I nod, and I wait until we pull up at the penthouse. The elevator ride up’s quiet, her hands in mine. She reached for me, and I allowed it.

There’s something nice about her wanting to touch me. Her thinking she can get comfort from me. And I’m not going to deny it. Soon it’ll come crashing down, but after tonight, after that erotic, intense rope session? She needs it, and maybe I do, too.

I don’t let the thought percolate any more than that.

When the elevator opens, she steps in and takes off her shoes.

“Do you want a drink?”

Scarlett nods and I make her a small cocktail. There’s some ginger beer behind the bar, so I dilute her rum with that and hand it to her. She takes it with a murmur of thanks.

“Are you okay? That was intense.”

“It was what? Twenty minutes?”

Fuck, she was in subspace, hard-core. I approach and take her drink, having a sip of the spicy, sweet contents. She takes it back. “Baby Red, it was an hour and a half.”

“Oh…” And then she does something so hot I almost lose my mind. She reaches down and palms my cock that rockets to peak hardness in moments flat. “You must be needing…”

“Scarlett.”

She frowns, snatches away her hand, and stalks off, a weave to her step that tells me she’s half out of it still.

“Scarlett.”

“I’m scared for Amelia,” she says. “But we can’t do anything until tomorrow, until they contact you. I want to call my family and you won’t let me. I need to do something. I’m sleepy, I’m wired… I’m?—”

“Still a little in subspace.” I go to her, and she downs the rest of her drink. I ease the glass from her and back her through the penthouse. She stares up at me, lips parted as I do. My hand is at her throat, around her collar. “I don’t want contact because I don’t need them getting worked up when they talk to you. Shit, we don’t even know where your father is, except on business.”

“Make me forget everything, just for a few hours.”

“I can’t last a few hours.” I push her into the door of the bedroom and kiss her. “But I’ll do my fucking best. Emphasis on fucking.”

I strip her naked, not bothering to take my time. And I pull off my clothes, too. She starts to drop to her knees, but I take her by her hair and drag her to the sofa in the bedroom suite and bend her over the back of it. “I’ll take a blow job later. But I need your sweet, tight pussy now.”

I slam into her, balls deep.

“Oh fuck, this is coming home, Scarlett. I’m going to fuck the life out of you.”

And I start to hammer at her in savage, deep thrusts. I’m not here for a long session; I need to get off. It’s like I was edged at the club. She’s so fucking hot, and I had to be in the office with that piece of shit Dunkel after our session and Scarlett in her dress, the one I wanted to fuck her in. I was hoping to do that after the guy left. But I lost my shit.

Now, slamming into her, her heat and tightness wrapping about me, squeezing me, I’ve reached a kind of nirvana. I hold off from that ultimate peak, just long enough to enjoy pounding into her, but when she starts to come, she grabs my cock so hard with her muscles that I lose my control and come, spurting deep into her.

When we’re done, I pull out, pick her up, and take her to bed.

“I want more,” Scarlett says, slurring her words.

“You’re in luck because I’ve got something in mind to keep you busy until I get it up again.”