Chapter 14LovelyMarx
Lovely
W ell, it’s official. Chewy can fit a heck of a lot more in an anus than I ever thought possible.
“I never knew a prison pocket was so roomy,” Ana says, voice full of wonder.
“What did you just say?” Dex squints at her.
“His prison pocket,” Ana points in the direction of the dead man, still splayed out on the chair, with a foot hanging out of his rear.
Dex blinks at her before he bursts into laughter, as does everyone else. It seems odd, to be laughing at a time like this, surrounded by blood and vomit and who knows what else, but that’s kinda how we roll I guess.
“You people are fucking loco!” Joseph yells, violently bucking in his chains.
The man has had a front row seat to all of Chewy’s techniques tonight.
Slicing, dicing, chemical burning, injectables, feeding bits to Gretchen and Chomper.
He’s stayed stoic this whole time, only just losing it now.
Silence descends over the room as we all, as a collective stare at the man that called the hit on us.
On my baby. Marx turns to look at us, all scattered around the room.
His hard gaze making contact with everyone, then he tips his chin.
He moves across the room to the mechanism that will lower Joseph closer to the floor.
Rhodie unhooks his hands and then sharing a look with his brother, marches Joseph toward the St Andrews cross.
It seems to be an integral part of Chewy and Pops’ repertoire.
Using one hand to hold Joseph by the scruff of his neck, Rhodie uses the other hand to release the corpse still attached.
He lets the body fall to the floor, then forces Joseph to stand on the body of his cartel brother.
Rhodie roughly attaches Joseph to the cross, making sure the restraints are tight enough to hurt.
Marx takes measured steps toward Joseph, until a blonde blur rushes past. “You threatened my daughter ,” Remy seethes, her arm moving in a wild arc.
She leans back and spits into Joseph’s face.
He sneers at her as her saliva rolls down his bruised cheek, mingling into the blood welling from the cut on his neck.
“For Sniper,” she whispers, stepping back into Wire’s arms.
Rider moves next, “For Sniper,” he too swipes at Joseph, this time blood seeping through a cut on the man’s thigh.
One by one we step up, repeating the same mantra, cutting him anywhere and everywhere.
The inside of his groin, his penis, his nipples, chest, stomach, anywhere we can reach while reminding him that while he turned his back on family, we didn’t.
Chewy and Pops are singing and dancing around to the playlist on mix.
Lady Gaga is singing how we’re all on the edge of glory, and I can’t help the snicker that escapes my lips.
Marx raises a thick dark brown brow at me, and I grin back.
The scene is just so fitting. Joseph is pinned to the St Andrews cross sans skin, Lady Gaga is playing and Chewy and Pops are filling a tub with vinegar.
“Oh oh, let’s make it a tub of piss and vinegar!” Rider says with glee, unbuttoning his jeans and taking a pee right in front of us all.
I quickly avert my eyes, staring anywhere but in the direction of jeans being unbuttoned and unzipped.
“This really is good stuff,” Mira mutters, her little pen really getting a workout tonight.
“Babe, let’s get him in the tub,” Chewy calls out, Rhodie eager to do her bidding. So eager in fact he stops to make out with her for a long moment before doing as she asked.
“Lovely.” Turning toward Marx’s rough voice I’m surprised by the tenderness in his eyes.
He gathers me in his arms, my face to his chest., “Close your eyes, babe.” His large hands, one on either side of my face, move to cup my ears, pressing me further into his chest as a blood curdling scream reverberates off the stainless steel walls and through my body causing me to shiver.
The gut wrenching sound stops abruptly, Switch moving in fast to take Joseph’s vitals. His broad shoulders slump a little. “He’s all good, just passed out.”
“Grab the smelling salts. I want this fucker to feel every moment of his pain,” Marx growls, the vibrations in his chest soothing against my chest.
I curl in deeper to his chest and all those big words I spoke - dating, getting over this man, finding someone new, they all fly out the window.
Perhaps I was always meant to be in this place, right here.
Maybe I needed to hear those words to make myself stronger, to push myself to do more than just be a mother, and maybe a wife.
Or maybe Marx was just being a jerk because what I’ve learned recently is that men can sometimes be idiots, their own worst enemies, really.
I’ve sat by and watched some of the DRMC men find their women, and then almost lose them, and then find them again. Maybe this is just part of the story.
Joseph jerks awake on a gasp, then groans, his body shuddering violently in the vinegar bath.
“I don’t think he’ll take much more tonight, Pres,” Switch booms, close enough to make the prisoner flinch.
“Chewy, can you keep him on ice until tomorrow?”
“Even better. We can just roll him, tub and all, into the light room.” I turn to look at Pops.
“Dark is good for torture cos it makes a man lose hope. But constant bright light fucks with your internal body clock. Your body doesn’t know when to sleep or when to wake.
Fucker will lose his mind before he loses his life,” Pops grins maniacally, Chewy leaning in to high five him.
“Get it done. I’m taking Lovely home.” With that Marx turns us toward the door, arm still around me.
We make our way to the ATV, Marx helping me in like a true gentleman, then he gets in his side, taking the winding trip back to my little cabin.
I should really head to the nursery, to check in on Bee and make sure my girl is OK, but after the excitement of today not only am I physically tired, but I’m emotionally wrung out, too.
I know that rage and fury at those men fuelled me through a lot of what we did tonight, but now, in the quiet darkness, my soul aches a little.
A large, warm hand lands on mine, squeezing gently. “You alright?”
I clear my throat., “Yeah. Just never want to see another bumhole for as long as I live.”
Marx’s laugh booms out in the quiet evening, the sheer mirth makes me smile. “Where the hell does she get these ideas?” he sputters out.
“I’m not sure, but I’m glad she’s on our side.”
We pull up to the cabin, and before I can even move out of my seat, Marx has me in his arms, carrying me up the porch steps and into my home.
As per usual it’s dimly lit, the warm light coming from the lamps dotted around the living area.
I have no idea how Tav did it, but they’re all set to come on with a gentle glow at a certain time of the day. It’s very clever.
“You get cleaned up, and I’ll be back in a little bit.” Marx walks through my home, gently depositing me in the bathroom before turning on the shower to heat. “Will you be OK?”
I’m exhausted, but I also know there is no way I’m getting into bed with blood and who knows what else still on me. Instead of answering I nod, and then watch as Marx’s lips quirk up as he backs out of the bathroom, pulling the door closed behind him.
Shucking off my clothes I step into the hot water, letting it sluice down my back, washing away the night.
The hot water beats down against my back, easing any aches and pains I have lingering from my injury.
I run my soapy hand over the wound, Switch having let me know that it’s OK to start gently washing the area now.
It’s amazing how something so small can so fundamentally change your life.
A week or so ago I swore off Marx and vowed I’d find my own happiness.
Now I’m standing here after being showered by words and affection from the very same man.
Shaking my head I turn off the water, stepping out and wrapping myself in my soft, snuggly towel.
It was one of the first things I bought with my first paycheck.
Homewares, new towels and sheets and pretty things that Bee and I could enjoy.
I dry myself, then pull on my pajamas. In the Keep we wore plain cotton nightgowns that tied at the neck and were floor length.
Now I wear Marvel superhero pajamas that Chewy gifted me.
Leaving the bathroom I walk into my bedroom and stop in my tracks. There, lying on my bed, hair damp from the shower is Marx. Shirtless, with low slung sweatpants. And lying on his chest is my heart, my little Bee with a huge smile on her face as his large hand rubs her back.
“Hey, I, ah, figured you’d want Bee to be close tonight. Mama Debs said she was being a little stinker and not wanting to sleep.” As if on cue Bee pops up and squeals, clapping her hands and bouncing her little butt on Marx’s abs.
Jeez Louise, I’m going to need another shower at this rate.
I’m hot and bothered and not once have I felt a feeling this intense when looking at a man in my bed.
In the past seeing Royal in bed would cause me to break out in a sweat.
Seeing Marx is also making me sweat, for a completely different reason.
His gaze runs over me like a caress, but his face changes when he reaches my eyes. He looks sheepish, almost a little embarrassed.
“Shit, sorry Lovely. I didn’t mean to just invite myself in and lounge everywhere, I should have asked, I just thought you’d want Bee to be here and-”
I rush over to him, placing my hand over his mouth, stopping the verbal diarrhea. “It’s OK. It’s a surprise, but a nice one. I love how thoughtful you were.”
I don’t give him a chance to say anything else. Instead, I climb into the other side of the bed and let Bee launch herself between the two of us. “Marx, would you like to stay the night?”
The smile he gives me makes my heart flutter.
“I’d love to.”
Marx