Chapter Twelve
Something has shifted inside me over the past few weeks since Cara and I opened up to each other, both emotionally and physically. Cara has turned my life upside down. In a good fucking way. I’d never thought much about actually having a wife other than doing my duty to protect her. But now, it’s so much more. She’s so much more, and in turn, she’s made me so much more.
“Make sure your phone is off or on silent, Killer.” I remind her, watching her nod and quickly un-pocketing the phone I got her last week so we can communicate when we are apart. She powers it down, shooting me a sinful fucking wink before hiding it away again.
Fuck. She’s still affected by our fuck session, and if I’m being honest, so am I. It’s hard to switch my mind off to the way she’s evolved in the bedroom. She’s more assertive. Dominant. Which can be tricky since I’m that way too, but we’ve worked out a rhythm. Sometimes I make her yield and submit to me, and I make fucking sure she enjoys it, and other times she doesn’t back down, so I know it’s my turn to let go and give her the control.
Like when I let her slip her fingers into my ass. That takes a lot of fucking effort for me to let go. There’s always a moment of panic, but the flashbacks are getting less, and my killer always ensures it feels so good I forget my fucking name.
I made sure we had the opportunity to get lost in each other before we came out on this job tonight. It’s going to be a tough one, but I promised her I’d show her what it is we do, aside from run a fucking strip club.
I hope she realizes that when I purchased her, I was actually trying to save her, and maybe after she sees for herself the kind of things we do she might understand that I, we, the Diamond Crew, are the good guys. Or at least, the better of the evils.
Aside from being fucking proud of the vigilante work we do, I’ve seen into Cara’s soul. She’s strong. Badass. And she’s protective. Just like me. So this world we live in is now her world, and I know if she sees what we do, that she’ll want to help. Want to be a part of it.
“Ready to get this party started?” Cain asks as he swaggers up like we aren’t about to step into a vile, crude scene.
To be fair, he’s probably not thinking about anything but the part where he gets to kill.
Woods Lagoon is dotted with moored boats that look like they are floating on a sea of black. There is no moon tonight, which helps us stay out of sight, but also means we can’t see shit.
Munroe, an ex-marine, is the only one wearing night vision goggles, and he quietly breaks open the gate that is meant to provide security for the dock.
“You ready, Killer?” I whisper, tugging her to my chest, and she nods frantically, her eyes wide with excitement to see what it is we do.
Quietly, we move into single file, stepping onto the dock. I turn back to Cara and press my finger to my lips, signaling to stay quiet, and she gives me a nod, taking my gestured instruction easily.
Most of the boats at this end of the marina are smaller, except for the one our targets are on.
The vessel sticks out like a sore thumb, owned by a pompous banker from San Francisco. And tonight, he’s entertaining two of his old college buddies, while their wives tend to their children back in the city.
If only the pompous banker knew that his wife was on to him after hiring a private investigator. And well, once they figured out the truth, she asked her investigator to take care of it and make sure he suffers.
Naturally, they reached out to us to take care of that part.
Creeping onto the boat at the end of the dock, we move carefully to make sure the vessel doesn’t rock too much as we step on and alert them to our presence.
After helping Cara onboard, I keep one hand linked with hers and the other holding my gun as I survey the empty cabin. The lights are off up here, but light filters from below deck, and as soon as I crack open the glass sliding door we hear music, male laughter and female sobbing coming up the stairwell.
“Me and Munroe will go to the bow,” Cain whispers, any hint of mischief gone from his face. I nod, knowing after we studied the plans for the boat, that there is below deck access from each end.
Cara shuffles from side to side, most likely from nerves, and once I see Cain and Munroe round the corner at the bow, I nod at Stretch.
“Gun ready,” I whisper before turning my sights to Cara. “Stay behind us, and don’t do anything unless we give you permission. Got it?”
She nods, cheeks flushed with both excitement and anger at the noises coming from below deck. She’s not stupid. She knows those noises. She knows exactly what’s being done to that poor girl.
One by one we storm down the stairs, timing it well as Cain and Munroe enter at the other end, and the overweight fuckers with round bellies and not a stitch of clothing, still, like a deer caught in headlights.
The girl, probably no older than fourteen, sobs, her wrists and ankles bound to a daybed, her body completely bare and exposed with one of those sick cunts, who’s at least in his fifties, still buried inside her.
“Get out!” he yells, and as I drag my gaze over the three men, he is definitely our intended target.
The other two men are collateral, since we can’t leave them alive for this crime.
I hear Cara move before I see her try to barge past me, and I whip my arm out to stop her.
“Don’t forget my orders, Killer.” I growl low, not wanting to draw attention to her. “You stay behind us until I give you permission.”
“Give me permission now.” She snarls through clenched teeth, her eyes trained on the scene before us.
“Not yet.”
Her heated gaze is locked on the man buried inside the girl, and I get it. She wants to save her. Wants to make this man suffer. And she will, in good time.
“While love bug and his woman argue, how about you sick fuckers tell us who you purchased tonight’s entertainment from?” Cain suggests, twirling his shotgun around like he’s in a fucking parade twirling a baton.
“None of your business.” The old fart slipping his now limp dick from the girl snaps, and even though I shouldn’t be looking, I notice the oozing white substance tinged with blood that follows his dick out. “This is my boat, and I demand you leave!”
I chuckle. “Did you hear that Cain? He demands we leave.”
“I fucking heard it.” Cain does a spin on the spot, still fucking twirling his shotgun.
“What do you think, Killer?” I glance down at my wife. “Should we leave because he demanded it?”
“Well, I mean, if he demanded it then…” Cara smirks sinisterly, falling into the role like a fucking queen.
I glance back at our target and let my grin fall from my face. “I don’t think so, asshole.”
“You have no right to be here.” One of his buddies cuts in, and I shake my head.
“Oh, we are definitely trespassing. Maybe you should call the cops. Let them come here and decide who the real criminals are.”
The man pales, and number three tries to make a run for it, but Cain slips his foot out, tripping the man, who then face plants with a thud as he cries out.
“Whoops. My bad.” Cain shrugs as Munroe fists the man’s graying hair and drags him into the center of the room.
The sobbing of the young girl has quieted as she sucks in shuddering breaths, hopefully realizing we aren’t here to hurt her.
“I’m ready.” Cara hisses, facing me, her hands balled into fists at her sides.
Reaching out, I brush her dark hair back over her ear. “I know you are, but first, can you help get the girl free? I think she will feel more comfortable with you doing that.”
Cara nods, as Cain and Stretch scuffle with the other two men, subduing them and forcing the three men to their knees in a line.
Knowing the men can’t get to her, Cara darts across the space to untie the poor girl, while Cain binds the assholes’ wrists and ankles with zip ties, and throws a few punches into each man’s gut before Cara speaks up.
“The girl has something to say.”
Turning back, I see that the young girl is now sitting on the daybed, a blanket wrapped around her as she trembles.
“T-these m-men, they b-bought m-me from some other m-men who c-call themselves the C-cali Reapers. They ride m-motorbikes and they k-killed my gran,” a loud sob escapes as her face contorts with the internal pain she is suffering from that loss. “A-and when my m-mom tried to save me from them, they beat her up and t-took me.”
Fuck. The Cali Reapers again. They are becoming a bigger fucking issue than we originally thought.
“How long have you been with them?” I ask, and her tear-filled eyes shift to me.
“A f-few weeks I g-guess.” She shrugs. “When I m-met Tina, I t-thought I’d be okay. That she’d t-try to protect me,” she sobs again, but this time, there’s anger in it. “But that w-woman is worse than the m-men. She made s-sure I was clean and p-pretty looking, before she brought men i-into the room they kept me in, a-and made me…” She cringes, and a shiver of revulsion makes her shudder. “S-she made me suck t-them. She t-told me it was p-practice for the big event, when I’d m-meet my new owners.” She sobs again and Cara turns her glassy eyes to me.
“Tina?” she asks, looking back at the girl. “As in Martina?”
Fuck. Cara’s mom.
The girl nods, tugging the blanket tighter around her naked body. “Y-yes. How did you know?”
Cara shakes her head, dropping her chin to her chest briefly as her breathing quickens. I want to step up and hug her and tell her that everything will be okay, but it’s not what she needs, and I know I’m right about that a moment later when Cara lifts her head and stands tall before rolling her shoulders back.
There is no sign of the young girl she once was. She’s nowhere to be seen. This person in front of me is all woman.
A warrior.
“It doesn’t matter how I know.” Cara finally answers as she steps toward the girl. “Was the big event tonight?”
The girl starts to sob again, nodding. “Y-yes. They took my v-virginity.”
All five of us growl in unison, turning our eyes to the three men who look nowhere near as cocky as they did when we entered before.
“She’s of age.” The pompous banker pipes up. “Dolly is legal. I have the paperwork to say as such.”
I scoff right as the girl screams.
“I am fourteen! And stop calling me Dolly! My name is Rose!”
Cara’s top lip twitches with the urge to slay, something I know she needs. Not just to take out her anger on the type of people that she was meant to be sold to, and not just because she knows that her mom is involved, as well as the Reapers.
There’s something carnal brewing inside her. It’s dark and consuming and something I’m all too familiar with.
She needs to punish.
Unsheathing my blade from my boot, I step up to my wife and offer it to her.
“Make them suffer, Killer.”
The courage and resolution in her nod nearly sits me on my ass. She’s never done anything like this before, yet she faces it with determination, not letting any fears she has get in the way.
“Little one, you may want to avert your eyes. This ain’t gonna be pretty.” Cain suggests to Rose, but she shakes her head, refusing to miss the downfall of her abusers.
Standing before the three naked men who are now looking very fucking panicked on their knees, Cara glares at them, taking the time to stare each man in the eye as they look up at their punisher pleadingly. They won’t find any mercy from anyone here. Not from me, my men, and certainly, not from Cara.
They should be very fucking scared.
Pacing in front of them, Cara eyes each one before looking at the blade, a frown crinkling her brow.
“Want me to walk you through it, mi peque?o salvaje?” Cain asks, stepping up beside her and she nods.
“If you wouldn’t mind.”
“It would be an honor.” He gives her a bow, before setting his shotgun aside and pulling out his own blade.
Then he starts to instruct her. He goes over what parts of the body hurt the most to be slashed, or stabbed, and before we know it, as red starts to paint the light blue carpet under the men’s knees, Cara needs no more instruction as she doles out her first punishment. And fuck, I just know it won’t be her last.
The men’s cries are drowned out by Cain’s singing. It’s not even a real song, but something he makes up as he goes, singing about their demise and Cara’s reign.
When Cara has had enough of slashing and stabbing, she leans in close to each trembling man, ignoring their sobs and apologies for being scum, as she starts carving something into their chests. One by one, she drags the sharp tip of the knife over each man’s flesh, spelling out a word on each.
Rapist.
Paedo.
Pervert.
“Haha yes!” Cain sing-songs, clapping like he’s giving a standing ovation at a fucking Broadway show. “A masterpiece if I ever saw it.”
“Is it bad that I agree?” Stretch asks, tilting his head to look at the angry bleeding letters.
“Not at all. I think we are all on the same page right now.” I admit, feeling my cock stir at the sight of Cara painted in the metallic crimson of their blood.
Turning to me, she looks thoughtful. “Husband, I’m sorry, but I have to do this last part, and if you don’t want to see me touch another man’s dick, then you should turn away.”
My brows shoot up as Cain cheers and Munroe mutters, “Fuck me, we’ve created a monster.”
As much as I never want to see her hand wrapped around another man’s cock, this is different.
“I’m not turning around, Killer. Do your worst.”
Slowly, her plump lips spread wide, her white teeth flashing as she gives me a nod and turns back to the pleading men, who we all fucking ignore.
Flexing her gloved hand, Cara bends, coming eye to eye with the first old college buddy.
“Say goodbye to your puny dick.”
Then she wraps her hand around the limp member and starts sawing the blade through it.
His screams are piercing, and he passes out slumping to the side before she’s even halfway through, but she keeps going until it’s cut free.
“You look hungry.” She tells the unconscious man, stepping over his body to pry his lips apart before shoving his dick in his mouth.
“Fuck. No, please.” Old college buddy number two cries with mortification, eyeing his friend in his humiliated state before he starts pissing himself.
“Oh now, that’s uncalled for.” Cara announces, straightening to glare down at him.
“P-please don’t.”
Cara turns a raised brow to us, but looks past us men, and focuses on Rose, who is now standing as she watches quietly.
“What do you think, Rose? Should he keep his dick?”
Rose is shaking her head before Cara even finishes.
“Oh well,” she turns back to the two men. “Karma’s a bitch.”
Even as he tries to struggle away, with nowhere to go, Cara wraps her gloved hand around his dick and repeats the process. He too passes out before it’s even done, and this time she simply drops his dick to the floor before dicing it up.
Obviously a little squeamish at seeing a dick diced, Stretch sits down looking rather fucking green, but he doesn’t stop watching Cara’s punishment. None of us can stop watching. It’s a sight to behold.
“How m-much?” the pompous guy stammers. “H-how much to p-put an end to t-this? I can h-have the m-money to you within m-minutes.”
“Oh, you poor thing.” Cara pouts dramatically. “There isn’t enough money in existence to end your suffering. Not after the crimes you have committed against children.” She punches him in the face then, surprising all of us, before she sets to work on his flaccid dick.
“You’re a fool,” she sneers as she saws the blade through his flesh. “People like you think you won’t get caught. And maybe the cops won’t get you, which would be a mercy, wouldn’t it?” She tilts her head, sneering in his face as he pants and screams. “But what sick fuckers like you don’t consider, is people like me. Like us.” She gestures her head backward toward us, finally sawing through the last bit of skin. The pompous prick nearly topples backward as blood pisses out everywhere from where his dick once hung. “Because one way or another,” she slaps him across the face with his own dick, “I’m gonna get ya.”
And fuck me, as she rains down her wrath, carving them up until each man no longer breaths, I swear I hear the song in my head.
One way or another.
I’ve never been fucking prouder.
Turning to me with wide excited eyes, I can see Cara’s desire thrumming through her veins.
Fuck. She’s beautiful. Stunning. And she needs to fuck bad.
“Shower.” I insist, pointing to the door off to the side where a small bathroom is attached.
“But—”
“No buts.” I shake my head, hardening my gaze as I stare at her so she understands that right now, I am still in fucking charge. “Shower. Dump your clothes on the floor in the middle of this room while we prepare the boat for a good old fashion cremation ceremony.”
“But I have nothing else to put on.” She frowns, and I grin.
“All you need is a towel, hermosa. And let me fucking tell you, it won’t be on for long.”
Her nostrils flare, and her breathing increases as we stare each other down.
She wants to fuck right now. I can see it in her eyes. I can feel the fucking want radiating off her body, even from the six feet between us.
I wonder if she’d actually do it, if I allowed it. Fuck me in front of my men. Take what she needs despite all the eyes on us.
I have a feeling the answer is yes.
“Go on. We don’t have long.” I insist, and she nods, handing me her phone before brushing past me and closing herself in the small room.
The floor inside the bathroom doesn’t have tiles, so I know she’ll be alright, and I turn my attention to what needs to be done now.
Turning to Rose, I offer her a pitying look, hoping she knows she is safe with us.
“Do you have anywhere to go?” I ask. “Back to your mom?”
She shakes her head. “N-no. A-after they beat her u-up, she kinda went nuts trying to find m-me, and the last I heard she got arrested for trying to kill a police officer who she thought was in the Reapers’ pocket.”
Nodding, the story sounds familiar. Not about the Reapers, but I did catch the news a couple of weeks back where a crazy woman had been arrested for assaulting a police officer.
“Well, Rose. I know we don’t seem like the most well-behaved citizens, but we have some girls that work for us at Dirty Diamonds. I’m sure they can take you under their wings and look after you. Unless you’d rather me take you to the police station?”
She shakes her head frantically. “No please, no police. Not after my mom…”
I nod. “Fair enough.” I turn to Stretch since he is the least fucking scary of us.
“Stretch will take you back to Dirty Diamonds. It’s a strip club, but we won’t ever ask you to do that sort of work, okay? The women there are nurturing. They will take care of you.”
“Okay.” She agrees, still wrapped in the blanket, her eyes landing on Stretch, who gestures to the staircase where they both depart.
“That was a brilliant fucking show mi peque?o salvaje gave.” Cain snickers and I glare at him. I don’t know why, but it pisses me off when he calls her his little savage. Cain grins like he knows how much it annoys me, shouldering past me in a playful way. “Now, if you will excuse me, Munroe and I have a dance to perform.”
“It’s not a fucking dance.” Munroe complains, throwing his arms up like this has been something they have been arguing about for a while.
“Oh really? Just watch me then.”
And just like that, Cain dances around, phone in hand as he snaps pictures as requested by the pompous banker’s wife, before he drags Munroe up the stairs, going in search of Gunner and Grayson.
They are only sixteen, so we try not to involve them too much in the gruesome part of what we do. That will come in a couple of years, but for now, they are our lookouts, and have the job of torching the boat and keeping watch from a distance to see which authorities turn up so we know who to pay off, and who we are going to have trouble with.
Grayson and Gunner work silently as they douse the interior of the boat with accelerant, dumping a heap on the three bodies, and when Cara steps out of the bathroom, clothes balled up and only a towel wrapped around her, I have to smack both Gray and Gunner for fucking ogling her.
“Eyes fucking off.” I snap, pointing to the floor for Cara to dump the clothes. “Just here, Killer. The boys will make sure they burn.”
“You wouldn’t survive a night with me.” Cara shoots Gray and Gunner a sly smile before shooting me a sinful fucking wink.
She’s calmed a little from before. I can see she’s not on edge ready to pounce on me at any second.
“Are you ready?” I ask, and she bites her plump lip, nodding.
Taking her hand, I start leading her up the stairs, glancing back to see Gunner dousing Cara’s clothes before the two boys follow behind.
Moving quietly off the boat and up the dock, I lead Cara up to my truck, opening the door and helping her in since she’s only wrapped in a towel.
“Will they be alright?” she asks, looking over my shoulder to where Grayson and Gunner lurk near the boat.
“Yep.” I nod. “They are good at this part.”
I close the door as a sinister smile spreads across her face, and through the glass of the window, I see her skin light up with an orange glow, as I hear the whoosh of the fire engulfing the boat behind me.
After a quick word with my men, I get in my truck and drive us away, heading toward the main beach.
Cara is quiet as I drive, but she shifts in her seat a few times, and I can tell she’s rubbing her legs together. She’s so fucking horny right now, which is good, because my dick is fucking hard as stone.
“You okay over there?” I ask, and she groans, tipping her head back and squeezing her eyes shut.
“I’m not sure. Is it wrong that I’m so… so…”
“Horny?” I ask and her lids snap open before she glances at me.
“Yes. I shouldn’t be right? That’s… sick.”
My hands grip the steering wheel as I shake my head.
“Hell fucking no, it’s not sick. You’re riding a high from your kills. It’s not about the blood and gore of it. It’s about the power you held while doing it, and now, you need a release.”
Without being able to help it, she moans and presses both hands to the towel, parting her legs to hit the right spot.
“Cara. Not yet.”
“But… I can’t wait.” She rubs again, and I hiss.
“Pull your fucking hands away right fucking now.”
“But…” she breathes before she moans.
“Stop,” I hiss, and she finally drags her hands away.
“I can’t wait until we get home.” She complains and I chuckle.
“It’s a good thing we aren’t going home then.”
Not that home is far. It’s literally a four-minute drive, but I wasn’t planning on going home, and when I flick my indicator on, Cara’s eyes widen as she looks out the window to see where we are going.
“What are we doing here?” she asks, as I turn into the parking lot of Cowell Beach. “Skinny dipping?”
I chuckle. “Not today, but you will be naked.”
She doesn’t even hesitate as I park the truck. She gets out, her feet bare with only a towel wrapped around her.
I can’t wipe the grin off my face as I quickly get my shoes off before joining Cara and lead her down to the beach. It’s dark down here, so I use the flashlight on my phone to guide us until we hit the sand, and then Cara grins sheepishly at me, before she drops the fucking towel and runs off giggling.
“Look out for the crabs.” I chuckle, but she has no cares in the world right now, and I fucking love that.
Even though it’s dark, I can see enough to see her kicking her feet in the water, like a child that rarely gets to go to the beach.
“Move down this way.” I call to her, and she follows my order, kicking the small waves as she skips along toward the wharf until she’s finally under the structure trying to kick water at me as she hides behind the posts.
We laugh, and play a bit of tag around the posts under the wharf, splashing in the shallow water until I can’t take not having my hands on her any longer, and I catch her before we tumble onto the sand as waves splash over us.
Like magnets, our lips collide, tongues clash, and our hands roam. She’s completely fucking naked while I’m still fully dressed, and it’s a form of torture having the fabric barrier in the way.
“Get these off.” She pants against my lips as she grinds herself over the hard bulge in my jeans.
I make quick work of tearing my shirt off. The moment it’s gone her teeth are biting my nipples while we both work on my fucking jeans.
I flip us around in the small waves, surprising my killer before standing and finishing the job at removing my fucking pants, before lowering myself back down to the sand.
Sharp nails dig into my shoulders as I press my aching cock against her heat, and she arches into me, even as she tries to flip us again.
“Uh-uh, hermosa. You’ve had your control tonight. Now it’s my turn.”
She doesn’t argue, instead answers with her lips against mine as she kisses me hungrily.
The water is cold, but not cold enough to douse the fire burning between us, and I reach down and grip my hard length, before lining it up and surging in.
“Yes.” She cries as I fill her cunt, her back arching again as the waves lap at us under the wharf.
“I need to apologize now, for how fucking quick this is going to be.” I rasp against her lips as I thrust over and over.
“The boat…” she pants, “was the foreplay,” she moans. “I’m already…”
Her words drop off as she starts fucking me right back, two bodies in the sand and waves pistoning together in a frenzy, completely and utterly united as one.
I pound into her as she slams her cunt over me, and even though our hearts are pounding like we’ve been running a marathon, I know we have only been here connected like this for a matter of minutes.
But it doesn’t matter. Nothing fucking matters when I’m with Cara like this. Nothing is even comparable.
“I’m… I’m…” She squeezes around my cock, and a scream rips from her lungs as she comes apart, kneading my dick with her tight walls and milking a dizzying climax from me.
A roar flies from my lips as I surge one last time inside her, the muscles in my back coiling as I go still, feeling the hot spurts of my cum shoot into her tight hot heat.
Cara King, is my fucking paradise.