Chapter Four
Morgan stared at her reflection in her en-suite bathroom mirror. She’d already done her morning cleanse as well as her toner. She tried not to allow herself to be distracted by the previous night’s activities.
Yes, she had finally kissed her husband and it had been amazing.
That kiss had come to an abrupt end because of some situation she didn’t know the outcome of, because Carver asked her to go to her room to get some sleep. Morgan didn’t for a second believe she would be able to sleep, but alas, she had. Now, though, all she could think about was that kiss she and Carver shared. Not that she had anything to compare it to, but it had been an amazing kiss. She’d never kissed anyone else in her life.
Seeing death firsthand, taking any kind of risks had seen stupid to her, and she refused to put anyone else’s life in danger. She didn’t know if that made her a caring person or a coward. Death had been something she hated seeing. Sometimes, at those parties, there had been bets placed on how long it would take for someone to beg. They took bets on people pleading for their lives as if it was some kind of game.
She growled, gripping the edge of the sink, refusing to think about those nights and days. The screams. The laughter. She hated everything about it, and there hadn’t been anything she could do, although she had tried. Nothing could have helped, even asking her father if anything could be done. Questioning her father in front of other men was never good and always resulted in a beating, and sometimes even starvation.
Morgan closed her eyes, squeezing them tight until all the memories faded and all she was left with was last night. A single kiss. A kiss that had meant a great deal to her.
Opening her eyes, she reached up and touched her own lips, wondering if she was going to be able to feel him again. He had not come back to her last night, and now she was wondering what kind of situation there was.
Was Carver hurt? Had someone tried to kill him? Had someone tried to break into the house? Was Romone after some revenge because he’d killed her family?
She tried not to panic, but she left her bathroom, quickly changed into a brand-new dress, and then slid on a pair of flat shoes and left her bedroom. Stepping out into the main upstairs corridor, part of her expected to be stopped, but there was no one there.
Morgan rushed downstairs, making her way into the dining room, only to find the breakfast table set with food, but no sign of Carver. However, Andy was standing beside the table, as if waiting for her.
“Ah, you have arrived. Please come and enjoy breakfast. If there is anything missing from the table, please let me know.”
“Where’s Carver?” she asked. She moved toward her regular chair and slid right onto it.
“He’s had to take care of some business for now.” Andy nodded his head.
“What was it?” Morgan asked.
She couldn’t help but tense up as she looked at him, expecting him to hurt her in some way. She was tempted to close an eye, brace herself for the impact, but she kept them both open. Then, all she wanted to do was cheer the fact she’d not flinched too badly from him.
“I’m sure Carver will explain everything when he gets here,” Andy said, and with that, he spun on his heel and left.
She wanted to ask him a lot more questions, but instead she sat alone at a table laden with food. Her appetite faded, but she knew later she’d be starving, and she’d not gotten the courage yet to venture into the kitchen for extra food.
She couldn’t help but wonder if all of this was a ruse designed to keep her in a false sense of security, and when the time came, he was going to suddenly attack her. It wasn’t the nicest of thoughts she had about their upcoming relationship, but it was one she couldn’t help but have.
Looking at the table of food, she opted for some toast, slices of avocado, tomatoes, some sausage, bacon, and then she went for a tall glass of water.
She was finishing the last of her sausages when Carver finally appeared, and much to her surprise, his shirt was sprayed with blood. Morgan sat, staring at him, not quite sure what to say or do. He sat down, and she glanced at his hands, which were pristine.
“Good morning,” she said.
Carver turned toward her and simply nodded his head.
She waited, wanting to ask questions, but also terrified in case she angered him, and conversion might not be what he wanted.
Pressing her lips together, she watched as he reached for some breakfast. Like always, he took some bacon, sausage, eggs, and toast. His hands didn’t shake. He was in total control.
“What happened?” Morgan asked.
She tensed up once again, expecting a blow to come, and yet, none did.
Carver took a bite of his sausage, chewed several times, and then turned toward her. “We had a home invasion last night,” he said.
“We did?”
“Someone decided to scale the wall and land on my property. By someone, I mean two people, but you don’t have to worry, I have already taken care of it.”
“And we don’t need to worry?”
“No, it is taken care of.”
“Why would someone do that?”
“They had a job to do,” Carver said, with a shrug of his shoulders.
“What kind of job?” Morgan knew she was pushing her luck. She was asking more questions than she was supposed to.
Carver looked toward her. “Kill me.”
She gasped. “No, that cannot be possible. Why would they want to kill you?” she asked.
He burst out laughing. “You do know who I am, right?”
“But, isn’t that the point? You’re someone that scares everyone. Who would even dare try to kill you? Who would even want that to happen? You wouldn’t allow that to happen.”
His laughter turned to a chuckle. “I like your confidence in me.”
“It’s not confidence. I’ve seen the way people react when someone says your name. People are afraid of you, and for good reason.”
She looked at him, and he stared back at her.
“Is none of it true?” she asked.
“It’s all true, but that is also why I don’t sneak around, going from one hideout to another. Everyone knows where I live.”
“Why?” Morgan asked.
“Because, that way, I can deal with those who dare to cross that line. Trust me, last night was not a regular occurrence, but I’m also used to people wanting to kill me. There is no harm, no foul on this one.”
Morgan didn’t know what to say. She looked down at her empty plate, and then watched as Carver ate his food.
“No one hurt you, did they?”
“No,” Carver said. “I would never allow it to get that far.”
She nodded her head, although she didn’t feel the slightest bit better about what she had learned. The very thought of someone attempting to hurt him filled her with an anger she couldn’t understand. She wanted to find this person and hurt them.
Carver was a good person.
No, he was a bad person.
She stared at the blood on his clothes. He was eating food as if nothing bad was going on, and that wasn’t what a good person did. Yet, all he’d done was be nice, kind, and sweet to her.
She had gotten the small jewelry box this morning, containing a gold banded bracelet that looked so beautiful, with a few charms around the wrist. It had been breathtaking. She hadn’t worn it because she didn’t know if it would be safe to do so. Now, as she looked at Carver, she wished she had worn it.
Even though his shirt was covered in blood and there was a high chance he had killed someone today, she didn’t care. He’d been good to her. Protected her, kept her safe, looked after her, and even took care of her through her illness. She didn’t want anything to happen to this man.
Talking about the kiss last night seemed out of the question. She wanted to ask him, but instead kept her lips firmly closed. She didn’t know if she was ready for the kind of answers he might give her.
****
There was a time Carver used the basement to deal with invaders on his property, but he grew tired of the constant crawl upstairs and downstairs. Also, attempting to keep their screams locked in a room beneath the main house.
Now, he had to consider Morgan, and he didn’t want her to worry about the bastard that was his captive. The man who had snuck onto his property ruined a perfectly good moment when he was kissing his wife, and had already begged repeatedly for his own life, which had irritated Carver. He’d not even gotten to the good knives yet, and already he was sobbing, pleading, asking for his mommy. The man was in his late forties, a known abuser, and he couldn’t even take a little pain. Carver had already done his research on this piece of scum, sent by Romone. Now, things were going to get a lot more interesting.
It had gone from being a game to a certainty that he was going to kill Romone. He didn’t give a fuck what kind of deals Romone had made. The bastard was going to die, just like his little buddy George was. George, a known pimp, who took young underage girls, forced them onto drugs, and then used them on the streets. He had no remorse for the damage he’d already done.
“Sir, you wanted me?” Andy said, stepping into the outer building. To the outside, it looked like a shed, but the wood on the outside hid the entire bricked building. This room was for dealing with invaders and traitors.
Carver had built it with his own two hands, to ensure he had the proper space to finally deal in any way he wanted with the men or women that tried to fuck with him. There was a beam, so if he chose, he could have them hung upside down. There were several chairs and even a bed for what he had in store.
He didn’t believe in second chances. Those that gave second chances were simply asking for a death wish.
If someone was going to kill him now, and by some act of mercy he sent them away, if they succeeded a second time, he deserved it for being the asshole that actually trusted them.
“I want you to keep Morgan company today. Play that air hockey game, if you must.”
“Sir, I’m pretty sure she would prefer to play with you,” Andy said.
Carver had to stop because the truth was, he wanted to play with Morgan so badly. It’s why Georgie boy before him was still alive, barely, and also why he had to pay for cutting his time short with Morgan. She had come to him, asking for her wedding band, asking to kiss him. That kind of shit didn’t happen to him.
He knew there were women out there who were aroused by his scars and loved his reputation. He had a feeling Morgan wasn’t chasing a title with him. She didn’t hide her feelings that well. Morgan was intrigued by him.
Even today at breakfast, he had decided to test her resolve. He’d washed his hands, because eating food with another person’s blood on his hands was just plain disgusting. She’d looked at his shirt, but her gaze had been focused on him and only him. He didn’t have a problem with that. She’d passed a test by the way she’d been with him.
“I’ve got to take care of business here.”
Andy sighed. “You could just kill him and be done with it.”
“I know, but then he hasn’t suffered for all he has done, and there has to be a price.”
Andy nodded. “Good. I will take care of it.”
Carver waited for Andy to leave.
“Please don’t. I didn’t mean to … do this.”
“You didn’t mean to scale my wall, fall into my property, holding this gun?” He held up the small handgun. “These knives?” He held up two hunting knives. “And some cuffs, and rope?”
This was all George had on him.
“Romone said it would be easy and then he’d overlook … the girls.”
Carver tutted. It didn’t come as a surprise to him that Romone was now dabbling in underage girls. There were a lot of sick fucks in the world, and there were some evil bastards who couldn’t handle women, so they preyed on the innocent, the weak.
“Do you make a lot of money off the girls?” Carver asked, moving to straddle the chair in front of him.
George looked at him, and then toward the door where Andy had escaped.
“Do you want a piece of the action?” he asked.
“I want to know how much you make off the girls,” Carver said. “What happens?”
The man before him was clearly scrambling his brain, trying to figure out if there was some kind of deal he could make that would get him off the hook.
Carver was not interested in girls. He wasn’t interested in profiting off the innocent. With the work he did, he was already a very wealthy man, and seeing as he also had a knack for investing, he was not lacking for money. Carver already owned his property. He also owned several properties across the globe, for when business or the need for a vacation came in handy.
“So, ugh, I have these clients. Wealthy clients, and they don’t like the old and used pussy. They wanted something fresh, and there are a lot of girls out there that no one gives a shit about. They’re easy to find. I have men all over, and I’m given a brief description of what they want—blonde, redhead, or brown, whatever—chubby or not. We find the girl, take her, get her hooked on heroine or meth, something I have a constant supply of, and then she will do anything for it. That is when I supply her to my client. They like them willing. I mean, not all the men. Some of them don’t want them so complacent, so willing to do whatever they want.”
Carver had heard enough. Using the blades intended for this purpose, he slid each one into the man’s thighs.
George had looked happy with his little business endeavor.
Carver wasn’t happy. Using girls like that, to him, was sick and twisted. He was going to need the names of all those men, because those kind of fuckers didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as Morgan.
George screamed and the sound echoed around the room.
“You wanted to know.”
“Yeah, I did, because I wanted to see if you were proud of your achievements or if you were following Romone’s instructions. This was not Romone’s business.”
“No, it was, it was, I swear it! I swear. This had nothing to do with me!”
The man lied so easily, and he was more than willing to do it.
He shouldn’t have been surprised. Once the blades were firmly in place, he got to work removing parts of the man’s body while he was still alive. Piece by piece. The screams stopped the moment he was dead.
By the time he was finished, there was nothing left of George, but he made sure they were all secured in packages. He got them loaded into a truck and drove them, once he was clean again, to the post office. Once again, he mailed them to Romone. This time, there was no message. If Romone was smart, he’d realize the next person he was coming for would be him.