Chapter 11 ARTEMIS
In the silent car journey towards the Bianchi crime family, I knew I’d done a good job, but Donovan wasn’t going to give me the satisfaction of knowing that. I wanted so desperately to hate him for being such a dick—but part of me knew he was trying to save me, like I needed saving anymore.
“Thank you,” I let out in the quiet. “For teaching me how to throw that punch.”
“I bet he’s in a mood,” Jinksy said through my comms. “He’ll get over it, he just likes to be the one saving the day.” He laughed. “Don’t tell him I said that.”
Donovan glared at me, but with no words. He was clearly unhappy with how things went down.
“Are you going to punish me when we get back?”
Nothing, just the grip tightening on the wheel.
“Aren’t you?” I asked, wanting him to answer. “You know, giving me the silent treatment is—”
“Not yet,” he said, calmly. “First, we finish the job, and then we get back to Sanctum, we can discuss what happens next.”
“I don’t regret it,” I said, shuffling in my seat. I knew I made the right move at the right time. I saved both of us with it.
“I know you don’t,” he grumbled. “I think that’s the problem. You need to learn how to follow a simple order, Art. Otherwise, everything we do can be fucked.”
“So much for talking about it when we’re back,” I mumbled, mostly for Jinky to hear.
Donovan loved to argue now, it wasn’t like that before.
We never argued, we might’ve—actually, I didn’t remember it quite so clearly, but those arguments or disagreements usually ended up with the two of us wrestling in bed, him overpowering me, and then usually something around us break from a leg kicked to high.
I pushed my hands between my thighs, rubbing against my cock as it grew harder. This was not ideal.
* * *
We arrive in Boston without anymore issues. Donovan drove to a large-walled house with a man standing outside it. We were waved into the drive where a fancy sports car was parked on the gravel like a trophy.
The three brothers came out of the large front door of the house.
I knew their faces and names from the file.
There were subtle differences between Santo and Tomaso, the two biological brothers, and Rocco, the adopted brother.
It wasn’t enough for me to mention it—and from their file, I’d never want to put that death wish on myself.
Santo walked to the van, smacking a hand on the hood and laughing. “You made it,” he said. “And in great time.” He was tall, deep brown eyes that almost had me wanting to find the floor so I could kneel on it in front of him—residual effect of Donovan giving me blue balls.
“On your best behavior,” Donovan said. “Don’t speak unless spoken to, by me. Got it.”
I nodded. At least we weren’t in any immediate danger—even if the youngest brother, Tomaso did have tattoo sleeves and one up the side of his neck.
He looked pretty—dangerous. Damn, they all looked hot.
I didn’t even went to get out of the van.
I’d been sat for so long my legs were numb and the only thing that any amount of blood pumping through it was useless.
Donovan got out. “Was Mercy in contact with you?”
He nodded. “Sure was. We’re sorry about all that. But we’re glad we got it all here in one piece.”
“Good, we didn’t know we were going to put in that situation,” he said. “He’s only a trainee. This was supposed to be an easy job.”
Santo laughed. “No such thing as an easy job, brother,” he said, combing back the slickness of his black gelled hair. He pulled out a cigarette from behind his. ear. “You know, there’s a lot going down since my father passed.”
“Sorry to hear that,” he said.
“It was months ago, we’ve over it,” he said, lighting the cigarette. “I’m just glad we’ve got the cash.”
Donovan gestured to me. I pushed a hand down the front of my pants, then pulled my cock up into the waistband, there’d be no surprises here. Out of the van, I walked over to them as the two brother walked toward us.
“There are five briefcases in the back of the van,” Donovan said. “We’ll stay with you until you’ve checked them all out. I’m not going to let you let us leave until all money is confirmed over to you.”
Santo chuckled. “I like you,” he said, blowing smoke out the side of his mouth. “You ever think about looking for a freelance gig?”
“Transporting?” Donovan laughed. “No. Art, go grab the briefcases.” He instructed me, and I was followed to the back of the van by the two brothers—who I would’ve totally let take me to Eiffel Tower town.
They continued talking about a job, and how Santo knew all about Donovan, recalling some of the jobs he’d heard him do—especially the one where he’d left me because I would get in the way, and he needed the money—not like I ever really thought he would stick to his word and give me that white picket fence fantasy we’d talked about when we were together.
“Heard what happened on the freeway,” Tomaso said, sucking on his teeth. “Glad it wasn’t us. They’d have all been shot up.”
“I’d have dug their graves for them as well,” Rocco added.
Opening the van door to all the clothes inside. They looked puzzled. “It’s in the back. Secured to the—wait.” I walked out to see Donovan taking a drag of Santo’s cigarette. I didn’t say anything, all I needed were the keys, and they were in the driver’s side.
“I always love how creative you guys are,” Rocco said when I returned. “You’ve got like real clothes in here and shit.”
“It’s a full-service operation,” I told them, quietly, hoping Donovan didn’t hear—but excited for the prospect of being punished. “I’m sure you guys know that already.”
Tomaso nodded at me, the double-headed snake up his neck and chin seemingly moving with him—an optical illusion that had my eyes fixed on him. “We’ve only really used you for washing larger sums,” he said. “We do pretty well on the small stuff, but this was—”
Rocco shook his head. “Inheritance.”
I raised my hands a little. “It’s not my business,” I said.
A clang came to the side of the van. “You’re right, it’s not your business,” Donovan’s voice, down the side of my neck—it felt like he was trying to purposefully turn me on now. “So, what do you say about giving these guys their money, and we can get out of here.”
“I think it’s a good idea.”
We had to wait for them to actually count it—easily, since the bundles were nicely numbered.
In that time, we were given lemonade by their mother.
A croaky-voiced lady with a large combed back bush of silver frizz on top of her head.
We didn’t meet anyone else, and they didn’t want to tell us anything about who those men could’ve been—apparently, a number of gangs were after them.
We already had a name, but Donovan didn’t tell them.
Once we were back on the road, we pulled into a rest stop. Donovan parked away from other vehicles. Isolating us. He turned to me and took my hand. “Is your comms out?”
I shook my head. Jinksy hadn’t spoken in a while, I didn’t know if he’d gone, or whether he was listening intently to every word I said.
He held out his hand and took it from me, throwing it into the glove box. “I’m gonna say this once, and once only,” he said. “So, listen up.”
“I’m listening.”
“Thank you,” he said, slowly, with purpose.
My entre body deflated like he’d just pushed a pin inside me. I was waiting to go flying all over from it. “I—”
“You don’t have to say anything,” he grumbled. “I just wanted to let you know. I think you actually did a good job earlier. You broke my order, which I will still like to punish you for, but you gave me the opportunity I needed to get that situation handled.”
“Thank you,” I said, a big smile on my face. “It’s easy to say once you know how. I’d hate for you to break your promise and say it again.”
Donovan’s eyes narrowed. “Do you understand why I gave that order?”
“To keep me safe.” It was obvious why he did it.
He nodded. “To keep you alive. There’s a difference. Alive means nothing if you can’t think of yourself in a crisis.”
“So, I was right to act?”
Turning away, I could’ve sworn I saw his eyes roll. “You were right to act. You were wrong to ignore my instruction. And you should have argued with me, and given me a reason, show me why you can do what I’m telling you not to. You should’ve obeyed me until I gave you a reason not to.”
“You had all those guns on you.”
“I had it handled, you just expedited it.”
“You were thanking me a minute ago.”
“I am still, but I’m saying, you should listen to me, until you know that you can handle it,” he said.
And suddenly, I reinflated to defend myself.
“You made the right call, you delivered a punch. That timing. That was all you. Well done.” He clapped his hands twice for me.
“Good boy, is that what you want to hear?”
I smirked, it was impossible not to. “I do, actually,” I said. “Are you still going to punish me?”
His softly calloused hand caressed my cheek and chin. “Yes,” he said.
“For disobeying you or for saving you?”
He grip on my chin squeezed gently. “For disobeying. The fact that it worked out doesn’t change that you broke protocol.”
I bit my lip—it wasn’t intentional, just my body’s reaction to him mentioning protocol. “I’ll accept my punishment, however you see fit to punish me.” And my heart raced—hoping the punishment would involved the compression of his body against mine.
He leaned in, and pulled me forward on my chin.
He kissed me, then released his grasp. “You’re on the punching bag when we get back and I want you there until you collapse.
Then I want you to eat porridge oats, no syrup, and take a cold shower, before you to sleep on the hard floor of my room for eight hours. ”
I nodded, my throat clenching with anticipation of a second kiss.
It never came.
* * *
Mercy waited for us after the processing machine took all the weapons from us. She was standing outside the elevator with the biggest smile on her face.
“Proud of you,” she said, with her hands clasped together, she gestured at me.
I looked to Donovan, not wanting to take this thunder, because I really didn’t.
I really wanted him to know I was grateful for everything, except that blip where he left me—and I’d become stronger now, mentally too.
I wasn’t going to mope around an expensive hotel room crying, I was going to get on the punching bag.
“We secured some additional funds, which I’ve allocated between the two of you,” she said.
“I’m just a trainee,” I tried to play.
“No, I’m not having that from you, you need to start thinking and believing you deserve the world,” she said, which Donovan smiled at almost in support of. I didn’t know if that was a true feeling, but it’s the one everyone was witness to.
“How much?” Donovan asked.
“The job itself paid out a hundred, I secured an extra fifty,” she said in a quieter tone.
“A hundred and fifty?” I choked on a gasp of air, forcing Donovan to pull me under his arm and pat a fist on my back.
“Split between you, and after my fee, you’ve both got a substantial amount in your accounts,” she said, nodding and smiling.
“Sixty thousand each,” Donovan said.
She hummed and nodded, gesturing us to move away into a quieter corner. Not quite her office, but everyone here could speak freely it seemed, and I doubt anyone was her spying on Mercy—that would be like actually feeding yourself to the lions—her lions.
“Is there anything else we can help you with?” Donovan asked.
“Word is spreading in certain circles that two men took down six robbers on the I-95. That kind of reputation travels fast in this business,” she said in a hushed tone, but that same infectious smile that had me grinning from ear-to-ear.
“We didn’t take them down,” I said. “They left.”
She shrugged. “How we’re spinning it is that you and Donovan managed to take down a single crew of robbers,” she said.
“However, with that, comes requests, and another job. A little more demanding, and—” she glanced at me, into my soul.
“With less room for improvisation. I heard it all. You two have a going on, but you two work, the question is whether you work together or against each other.”
“What’s the job?” Donovan asked in a monotone groan.
With the snap of her fingers, one of the fairies handed her a manila folder—thicker than the last. My heart skipped around in my chest. She handed it off to Donovan and then left without another word.
“What is it?” I asked him.
“Our next test.”