Chapter Fourteen #2
“I want full access to everything, Roman,” he said, moving past me as if he walked on air. His tattooed hand wrapped around the man’s neck as he got into his space. “This stays between us. You tell anyone, I will cut out your heart and feed it to your wife.”
By this point, the man was clawing at Collin’s arm, fighting for his life. My eyes dropped as my palm found my mouth. The gun was pointed at the man’s crotch. That was why he wasn’t fighting back. Jesus.
I looked up to the man I loved, ready to beg him to stop, but someone grabbed my hair, yanking me up by the ponytail.
A body pressed into me from behind as a blade was brought to my throat. “Maybe I should try you out first, huh? Just to make sure the product is worth it,” the man spat at Collin.
My demon looked back at me, his features calm.
He looked almost bored.
That hurt me.
Suddenly, I wasn’t in the mood to play games anymore. I would not be used again.
The days of being scared and weak were over.
With a growl, I lifted my foot and stomped the heel into the man’s foot.
The blade fell away, and he howled in pain as I slammed my head back into his face, ignoring the pain that followed.
Once I was out of his grip, my body twisted, and I kneed him in the dick, taking the blade from him and shoving it up into his chest—right in the heart.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I bellowed, pushing his body back as the faces of those men from years ago flashed before my eyes.
I wasn’t killing some random mafia man—I was killing them.
He fell over the back of the bench, and I turned to Collin and Roman, adrenaline pulsing through my body.
The majority of the men in this room were already dead.
A new form of anger took over me as I marched over to them, taking Collin’s gun.
He let me, his fingers brushing over mine as I pointed the gun to Roman’s chest.
“Talk,” I spat down at the man.
He was silent for a moment, the music being the only thing filling our ears. When the large man started laughing, the fear was now gone from his eyes.
“You let a woman speak for you?” he asked Collin, jerking his thumb at me.
“I speak for myself,” I hissed, pointing the gun at his knee.
My demon stood behind me, his chest touching my back. “Angel,” he murmured, his voice sweet and void of anger. “May I have my gun back please?”
“Not until he talks.”
He chuckled softly, sending warmth throughout my body. I shouldn’t feel like this, not in a room full of dead bodies.
“Very well…proceed,” he said, waving his hand carelessly.
“Tell us everything,” I ordered, keeping my eyes on the man in front of me.
Roman looked at me, sneering, his eyes looking me up and down like I was shit underneath his thousand-dollar shoes.
I smirked, pressing the gun into his crotch.
“You can look at me like that all you want.
You can say what you want. Nothing that comes out of that pathetic mouth will hurt my feelings, little boy.
I've heard it all,” I said sweetly, venom coating my voice.
He chuckled. “Stevens, you need to get your woman in line.”
“Last chance, tell us about the rings,” I pressed, ignoring him.
“You are nothing but a worthless little whore, a warm hole for men like me.”
I sighed and stood back up.
“You won’t do anything to me. You don’t know how to kill; you don’t even know how to use a gun.” His eyes dropped to the weapon before looking back at me
I smiled sweetly at him. “You probably don’t know how to use your dick, which is why you choose hurt women because God knows you couldn’t get one to sleep with you willingly,” I said before yanking the gun back and firing it.
Straight. Into. His. Kneecap.
Collin was silent beside me, but I felt his eyes—those cold, icy eyes. I simply stared down at the man who was now crying out in pain.
“Talk.”
“You—yoouu fuckking bitch—ahh!”
Collin moved, and I saw a flash of silver. I looked down to see a small blade sticking out of the man’s shoulder. “Insult my woman again and I’ll kill your brother,” he growled.
I had a gut feeling his brother was the young boy who fled the scene a few minutes ago, and when the blood drained from Roman’s face as he looked up at my demon, I also knew Collin wasn’t bluffing. It felt nice to be protected and stood up for. I'd had to do that on my own for a long time…
There were just some things you couldn’t tell family.
Through his tears and cries of pain, Roman eventually told us everything.
After, Collin gently took the gun out of my hand and shot him in the head.
We had the information we needed, and none of it was good.
I stepped away from the bench and went to the partly-open curtain, needing a moment to collect myself.
I just killed a man. I should've been overcome with guilt, but I wasn’t.
The feeling inside of me was…powerful. I felt strong, for the first time in a long time, like I was the one in control of my life.
For the last five years, I had been living as a ghost, in the safe zone where no one could hurt me. I was done walking on eggshells; I was done being weak.
The club was empty, but music still playing, its seductive melody flowing out from the speakers overhead as the red and purple lights glowed. I straightened my ponytail, my eyes scanning over the falling chairs and half-filled glasses.
“Are you alright?”
He was behind me now, close enough that I could feel his breath on my skin. I nodded, brushing away a single tear that managed to escape. He remained silent for a moment and then he spun me to face him, his hand sliding down to the small of my back.
His other tattooed hand found my jaw, forcing me to look up at his face. Those blue eyes pierced my soul, pinning me in place as he gestured to the lifeless room.
“Who owns you?”
Three words. They held so much power. They held my future—our future.
“You do, Col,” I whispered, my stomach fluttering at his voice.
“You knew about the sex rings?” he asked, his eyes holding mine.
I nodded again as his thumb skimmed my bottom lip.
“Haley?” he asked softly.
“Don’t hurt her, please.”
A shadow fell upon his face. “I don’t hurt women, Karina.”
I turned my body to fully face him, putting a hand on his sharp cheek, the touch sending tingles throughout my body as my eyes searched his. “Why did you bring me to Boston?”
“I wanted you here,” he said coolly, pulling my hand away to kiss the inside of my wrist. That was only half the truth, I knew. I wouldn’t push it, though, because if he put his walls up again—if he shut me out again—surviving it wouldn’t be my outcome.
In the next second, he pulled me to his body roughly, his hand palming my ass.
“You are a little terror when you’re angry, do you know that?
” Those ice eyes flashed. I remained silent, my body on fire from his.
He gripped my ponytail, yanking my head back.
“You were such a good girl tonight,” he purred, rubbing his nose against my exposed neck.
Those words.
Oh my God.
My knees buckled, and I fell into his hard body more. His arm snapped around me, and I was trapped against him, his erection digging into my thigh. My train of thought derailed, falling into an endless pit of desire and need.
“Are you going to fuck me in a room full of dead bodies?” I asked weakly, looking around at the scene as he dipped his head into my neck. Any normal person would be screaming and fighting for their life, but me? I knew these men did bad things to innocent women, so they got what they deserved.
I felt his smile against my skin and I knew in my soul it was wicked. I shivered against him.
“No, angel. The eyes of the dead don’t deserve to see you come undone on my cock for me.”
“Jesus,” I whispered, clutching his shirt as he bent me backwards. He kissed and nibbled on my neck until I was squirming in his arms.
“I love that you are finally mine,” he murmured, kissing my shoulder.
I didn’t think I was supposed to hear that, but I was glad I did.
After the information we were just given, I needed something to give me hope.
Hours later, I woke up tangled in silk sheets, alone.
I looked to my right to find the bed empty.
Disappointment grew in my throat.
After Club Sweat, he brought me back here, to The Ritz.
He told me to order whatever I wanted from room service.
He stayed until the food arrived, taking phone calls and scheduling meetings before he left.
My body moved on its own, sitting up out of the bed and leaving the bedroom to search for him.
“Angel.”
I turned away from the window; apparently, I was too lost in thought to notice the view.
My demon was sitting on the couch, an ankle over his knee, still in the same outfit from the club.
I sucked in a breath when I noticed his shirt was unbuttoned.
The shadows of the room covered his face, but the glow of the city allowed me a hint of his tatted skin.
His arms were stretched out, resting on the back of the couch.
“Hi,” I whispered. It came out unsteady because of the nerves—and the guilt. I shouldn’t be attracted to a man who hurt my family. Was I insane?
“You should be sleeping.”
I ran a hand through my hair as I looked at the empty bedroom. “I don’t sleep well in unfamiliar places,” I admitted.
“You sleep at my home.”
I chewed my bottom lip. “I’m comfortable there.” That wasn’t a lie. I had spent the last few months within those walls, and I knew I was protected—safe.
“I know about the letter,” he said, his voice low.
Time froze, and a gasp left me. His eyes were cold, focused, studying me.
I shivered. “Col, please, listen to me. I was the one who convinced Bella to help me. She is innocent—”
He chuckled.
Oh God, he was going to kill her. “Col, if you hurt her—”