Chapter 12 Donovan
Artemis wasn’t ready. He was nowhere near ready for this.
I didn’t know what possessed Mercy to bring it to us, but she knew it was going to cause a stir.
Protection detail wasn’t something I did often, they were good money.
Four hundred thousand specifically for this one—which, after Mercy’s twenty percent, and split down the middle meant we’d be looking at a nice hundred-sixty thousand dollars.
I forced him to get on the punching bag as I walked around him, the spotlight intensifying with heat, the type that forced you to sweat a little more than you normally would. I read through the file twice, it was thick with information.
“What is it?” Artemis asked, gasping for air as he stopped to take a drink from his water bottle. “Should we train something else?”
“You’ll find it later,” I snapped.
“I think we need to work on this communication thing,” he said, gesturing with one of his filthy-sweaty wrapped paws.
My eyes twitching and my lip curling, I didn’t want to bite his head off—but I would, which might’ve been fitting since he hadn’t been properly punished for his earlier disobedience. “I’ll tell you later,” I said. “Keep punching.”
“I think I need—”
Slapping the file shut, I gave him a dead stare.
“You don’t know what you need,” I said. “You don’t know what’s going on.
You need to keep punching, you need to punch it for as long as it takes to create a permanent indentation of your knuckles.
” It was impossible to do, but I was pissed—at who?
I really didn’t know anymore, and I definitely couldn’t snap at Mercy.
She’d have her wife use me as training practice for whatever laced bullets they’re practicing with in the armory.
“Got it,” he said before going into jabs against the bag again. There was something rhythmically soothing about the way he punched it.
He’d have to find out eventually, since protection detail was starting tomorrow evening. That’s when our client reached their appointed destination and would from that moment be under protection from us as they went about their business.
* * *
Artemis crawled over to me, fresh from the shower and dressed in gray shorts and a white tank top. His hair was all wet still, but he was being obedient. Sat on the edge of the bed, I reached out to him the way I would a dog, fingers beneath his chin just to tickle.
“Across my lap,” I said.
He slowly positioned himself across my lap, in a way we’d done before. His ass right there, and his cock—or something equally as hard in the front of his shorts rubbed against my thighs. He didn’t say a word.
I pulled his shorts down to reveal his thick ass, like two risen balls of dough.
It was a credit to me for getting him to incorporate squats and other muscle mass making exercises in.
As much as I didn’t want him here, and I’d tried everything possible to get him to quit—it was clear he was now in too deep. But so was I.
Stroking a hand across his cheeks, he clenched them, his abs tensing up as well like he was trying to do a crunch across my lap.
“I’ll tell you when I do it,” I said, both hands now cupping his cheeks.
They were still the same ones I’d grabbed at and parted plenty of times before.
“One for disobeying me.” I positioned a hand at the most fleshy part of his cheek, pulling away slightly, then going in.
I left a sweet raw pink-red handprint behind.
“Oof,” he let out.
I went in for a second, or the first for the other cheek.
“This one is for being impatient. You’ve always been impatient.
I always thought it was sweet, but here, you can’t be impatient.
” I went down with my hand, positioned just a smidge out of the handprint I’d already left.
“And this one, this one is for not taking that cash and finishing your degree.” His cheeks clenched, sending my hands somewhat bouncing off it. It was unsatisfying.
Four was all I needed. His punishments were still coming in the way he was obedient for me now, making up for it.
“Have you learned your lesson?” I asked.
“Yes, Sir,” he said.
“Good. Now stand for me.”
He stood, revealing the bulge in the front of his shorts, being dragged down by them pulled back. He tried grabbed his shorts as I swotted his hands away to pull him closer. “Sorry,” he said.
I kissed his cheeks. Both of them, the same number of spanks, I gave them back with kisses, and rubbing my cheeks to them. Feeling his soft skin. And yet, I couldn’t get comfortable in it, I wasn’t supposed to be getting comfortable. I was supposed to be instilling complete obedience.
“You can sit,” I said, “on the floor.”
“Thank you,” he said, finally lifting his shorts. His hands carefully placed between his legs, not playing with himself, but also close enough to pushing his cock down that it might’ve technically counted as playing.
“I need you to make me a promise,” I said.
He nodded. “Of course.”
“This is serious. You’ve got to promise to be professional. No overstepping. No improvisation. No commentary at all.” I nodded to each point as he copied. “Mercy has given us a challenge, and I could do this on my own, but with you, the unknown, it might bring up some issues.”
“Bring it on,” he said with a smile, which faded. I liked to see his smile, but this wasn’t the time for it. This was the time for him to do what he’d signed his life away to do.
I grabbed the thick file from behind me on the bed.
“Our next job,” I told him, opening it up, I pulled out a single page.
“Maya Chen, she’s an investigative journalist, and she’s apparently being backed by some rich benefactor.
We don’t have their name, but they’ve got a way into contracting through Sanctum. ”
“What’s so bad about this?” he asked, then pressed his mouth shut.
“Maya has been investigating a family here in New York, old money, oil people. According to this somewhat redacted information sheet, she’s uncovered evidence of dumping wastewater and it impacting small rural communities,” I said, watching him nod his head a little.
“The family has also been—allegedly posting fake job advertisements abroad with the promise of high wages, then one they’re here, taking all their documents, and forcing them into work for a debt they never knew they had. ”
“Trafficking,” he said with a gulp.
I didn’t want to say the word itself. I was protecting him from it.
* * *
At The Mark Hotel on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, Maya Chen was secured in a lavish penthouse sanctuary.
It was our first meeting with her. We wore custom suits with a nice, stretch type of fabric for ultimate run ability.
Artemis looked fucking handsome, his hair all back except for a single strand which I swore he pushed forward, but with every drag of his hand through his hair, the little strand flopped forward.
He had two guns on him, one on the concealed belt and another under his arm.
I still hated him having those things—it was sometimes hard to remove him from the memory in my mind.
Two security guards were positioned outside the penthouse suite door.
She was waiting for us inside. I’d looked at the pictures Jinksy had sent through, and the floorplans. It was nicer than any of the fancy hotels I’d ever stayed at with Art before. I wondered if he thought about it too.
“Ah, oh my god,” Maya was short but raced towards us in her high heels and a mini skirt and cream blouse.
“You guys look amazing. Are you ex-FBI? Oh, maybe ex-CIA?” she asked, her eyes twitching like she was watching our faces for any motion.
“Well, anyway, please come in, take a seat, I want you both comfy. Especially since we’re going to get to know each other well. ”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Chen,” I said.
“Ms. Chen,” she said with a chuckle. “Let me show you around. This is just the foyer.”
The foyer was the size of a large apartment at Sanctum. Artemis’s mouth hadn’t properly closed from gawking since we walked inside. Everything had a marble veneer to it, like we were in some Greek baths. There were floor-to-ceiling windows with panoramic Central Park views.
She showed us around, the master suite with it’s king bed and even an attached dressing room larger than most apartments. There was an ensuite we skipped over, but I could definitely spot a large hot tub in there.
“I’ve seen that you’ve got a daily butler, around the clock security at your door, and the two of us, you’ve also got access to an armored vehicle in the garage,” I said as we walked back through the foyer. “We’ll always be with you, so there’s no sending us away. You understand that. Right?”
She laughed. “Of course, why else do you think we hired you?” she asked. “I need all the protection I can get.” We walked to the window and looked out. “Before you ask, the windows are bulletproof.”
“No need for us to ask,” I said. “We’ve already got eyes in the sky.”
“Yes you do,” Jinksy came through the comms.
“Of course you do,” she said, walked off to the other side of the suite, her heels like an echo, we could’ve followed her even if we were blindfolded. “I assume you’ll be working in shifts, so spare bedroom is yours,” she said. “It’s not much, but it’s where my files are, the safest place for it.”
The files in question were no fewer than fifty boxes, stacked around the room, and going off inside the dressing room. Artemis walked to the window, I knew he was looking out at the park, and not scanning for potential threats, but I had to give that to him. This place was incredible.
“Do you have any questions for me?” she asked, clapping her hands together. “And not about my benefactor, they like to remain anonymous.”
“The trafficking,” Artemis asked. “What do you plan to do with this?”
“Well, I’m working with law enforcement,” she said. “We’re building a case, but the real goal is to get Margaret Ashford.”
“The matriarch,” I said. “It’s going to be a difficult task. I’m sure she’s got plenty of people around her to take the fall. Doesn’t she?”
“I’m sure she does,” she said. “But I’m not going to let that happen. I don’t care if she is a billionaire, or that she’s in her sixties. People shouldn’t be able to get away with this and use their money or age to get out of it.”
Artemis’s face seemed to ease. They were kindred, it seemed. Except, Artemis was already mine, and not interested in women. “We are here to make sure you get to do that,” he said. “And they’re poisoning the water for rural communities.”
“Oh my gosh,” she said, tippy tapping on the floor with her heels all excited. “How about we go back through there, sit on a chaise and I’ll tell you all about it. I can trust you, right?” Her face became serious before she waved a hand playfully. “I know I can.”
“It’s all in the service,” I said.
We sat on the sofas as Maya and Artemis talked at length about the research. I found it interesting, of course, but this was a first for me. Protective detail meant seen and not heard, and I was sure the security outside the room were wondering why we were being so talkative.
“Do you trust the security outside?” I finally asked.
I pulled them right from their conversation—clearly startling her. “I mean, the owner of this hotel is a—a friend of my benefactor, they trust them, so I don’t see why not.”
Her way of keeping enough information secret had my brain furious. I liked knowing the details about an op, and yet, the file didn’t mention anyone by name either. ”How many people know you’re investigating the Ashford family?” I asked.
“Weren’t you listening, Donovan?” Artemis came in, raising his brow at me, as if he wanted me to publicly check him for his sass. “Ms. Chen has—”
“Call me Maya, we’re friends, I hope, and friends save their friends when they play with dangerous people,” she said with a chuckle in her throat.
“If you need a list of the people, it’s plenty.
It could be anyone I interviewed, or it could be from my preexisting relationship with the Ashford family. ”
I perked forward in the chair. “Preexisting? That wasn’t in your life. What relationship?”
“I was engaged to Julian Ashford, Margaret’s grandson,” she said.
“They scrubbed any reference of me from their lives. It was a brief engagement. And thankfully, I cut it off before things got too serious. The last thing I need for that family is for them to have this thing thrown out because I’m some scorn ex.
Which I’m not, to make it clear. I’d been investigating Ashford Energy from some claims of Benzene and other chemicals that are like fifty time more than is safe for the federal water standards.
It spiraled into seeing him, getting close for information, and he was as all grandchildren of billionaires are, very eager to show off. ”
Artemis was grinning as she told the story, it wasn’t a story of revenge, it was a story of finding wrong, and doing whatever she could to find the people culpable—and having them arrested.
It’s what he could’ve been doing if he’d gone back to school.
It was every reminder I didn’t need to see flash in front of me.
This life was pain and torture. He deserved better.