Chapter 16
Ashley
I’m so fucking horny I can barely think straight. My thighs squeeze together, and a whimper escapes my throat. Biting my lip until I taste the metallic tang of blood.
It’s not enough. Rubbing the most sensitive part of my body against the fabric of my pants isn’t enough.
Christ. I didn’t know it could look like this.
Everything inside me is trembling. Maybe on the outside too. I have no idea because he has my undivided attention.
Ryker, or the Jackal, has brought me a mouse to play with, like a cat. His new prey lies between us on the floor of an abandoned warehouse.
It’s my first time here. In this whole situation, I don’t even notice my surroundings. All I see is the Jackal and our victim lying there, bleeding out.
The Jackal’s methodical approach, his calculated movements, his control over the situation, his power blow me away. The first few minutes of this encounter were enough to make me wet between my thighs.
I bite my lower lip harder, and this slight movement draws the Jackal’s gaze to my face. His eyes darken, and I understand exactly what he’s thinking.
I can picture exactly what’s going through his mind.
Yes, this is the first time we’ve worked together. And yes, this is also the first time neither of us is covering our faces. We’re not pretending to be someone we’re not in front of each other. And that this whole thing turns me on so much says a lot about me.
“Baby, if you don’t let go of that lip right now, I’ll fuck you in a pool of his blood,” he warns me in a low, hungry voice.
These words work like magic because I actually release my lip and smile gently at him. I submit to him, and that’s something I’ve never done before.
Who are you, Ash? Who is he?
“You’re so sexy when you work.”
A sigh precedes his words. “Do you see how hard it is for me to work here?” He addresses the man writhing at his feet.
“Not only do you not want to talk to me, but Satan sends me an angel to tempt me. How am I supposed to keep my head straight and not be distracted by this walking sin?” He spreads his arms to show he means no harm.
“Be a good man and help out a guy in need.”
With admirable speed, the Jackal’s leg finds its target on the victim’s body, kicking him in the stomach.
My breath catches in my throat.
I’m sick. Until now, I didn’t know how sick I was. Working with the Jackal opens doors in me that were previously closed, illuminates a hidden secret, and develops a new level of hunger.
“Do you want to play, my Little Killer?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
This dance between us, full of jokes and seductive vibes, only shows how insane we are.
I approach a man whose name I don’t even remember.
Eli picked him out from among the lower-level informants who served the senator’s career.
The guy is scum, selling some of the senator’s secrets to the press for a few bucks.
Of course, he didn’t do any significant harm to anyone because the senator’s management center wiped everything off the face of the earth with the force of a tsunami.
Eli dug up a dirty secret in the process. The guy is secretly fucking the senator’s longtime assistant, who also disappeared at the same time as Charles Baker. My potential father.
I can count, and I know the odds of his knowing where she might be now. Before I came here, I did my homework and dug up another skeleton from the same closet.
The man doesn’t hear my footsteps, so, standing behind him, I clear my throat. That gets his attention. Still lying in the fetal position, he turns his head toward me.
His left eye is so swollen that there’s no way he can open it. He got kicked there. The other is open and glaring with hatred, even though I’ve done nothing yet. Blood is dripping from his nose and running down his cheek.
Only his lower half is clothed. His bare chest and shoulders already bear several cuts where the Jackal introduced him to his best friend. A knife.
I look at Ryker, who smiles. That small, sweet smile makes my knees weak. His intense gaze turns my insides upside down.
God... This guy...
“Have fun, baby girl,” he whispers playfully, winking.
Squatting down, I shift my attention to this treacherous asshole.
“Can you be a good boy and tell me where Margaret is hiding?” The light tone of my voice is totally out of place.
“Fuck you,” he mutters. “I don’t know any Margaret.”
“No? Then what hole have you been spending your nights in until recently? I don’t like it when men treat me like I’m stupid and underestimate my intelligence.”
“She’s right. She doesn’t like it one bit. I don’t like it either, because when you insult my woman, you insult me too,” Ryker adds, circling around us like a hawk.
My woman?
“You know your minutes are numbered if you don’t start working with us?” I ask, pulling my knife from the holster on my pants.
The man laughs mockingly. “You think they’re not numbered anyway? I know very well who you are.” He directs his last words to Ryker and spits blood at his feet.
“Who am I? Enlighten me.” The Jackal sneers, and when he passes me, his fingers brush my neck.
Immediately, an electric jolt runs through me.
So this is how we’re going to play now?
“You think I don’t know you’re James’s son? That you’re a member of the Pact? You think I don’t know who your mother was?”
The temperature in the room drops a few degrees. A chill takes over everything, including the Jackal’s soul. He doesn’t stop for a second, still circling around us. But I know. The guy is already walking on thin ice.
Whatever happened in Ryker’s past, whatever happened to his mother, it’s a trigger for him. I can already see the fuse being lit.
“So what if you know who I am? It just means you know what to expect when the Pact comes for you.”
“That’s how I know I’m going to die anyway. I don’t have to tell you shit.”
“We’re not after you,” I interject. “We’re not even after Margaret. Where’s Charles Baker?”
The guy blinks his good eye. “What? You’re after him? I don’t know where he is, but I know who might know. Vlad! Vlad Petrowski!”
Out of the corner of my eye, I glance at the Jackal and see exactly what he thinks about it. He nods in agreement. “Who is this Vlad and where can I find him?”
The next few minutes are crucial for the man, who tells us everything he knows. He thinks he’s smart enough to direct our attention to the next victim and walk away freely.
Not so fast.
When he finishes, I give him a friendly smile. “Thank you. That wasn’t so bad, was it? Why all the drama?”
I straighten up and look down at the guy. His eyes widen when he notices how my friendly attitude turns to hatred in a matter of seconds. With disgust, I look at this creature lying a step away from me.
“We still have one more score to settle,” I growl and spit in his face.
The Jackal looks at me, his face showing undisguised surprise. I didn’t tell him earlier what I’d discovered on my own. Still, he trusts me and complies with my request when I say firmly, “Please hold his head and arms down.”
Ryker falls on our victim, pinning his hands with his knees, and puts the knife to his neck. The guy beneath him just trembles with fear, no struggling, no fighting us.
I glance at the knife in my hand and turn it several times. The light from the lightbulb reflects a delicate glow on the metal.
Beautiful.
“Isn’t she dazzling? The hottest woman in the world. And she’s all mine. I’m a lucky bastard,” Ryker whispers into the degenerate’s ear, his eyes never leaving me.
Glancing at the man’s exposed chest, I know what I want to do. It won’t bring justice or even relief to anyone, but at least there will be one less piece of trash in this world.
I crouch down next to them with one last look into the gray eyes that don’t judge me and get to work.
Accompanied by screams, I carve an inscription on his chest. Letter by letter. When Ryker realizes what bloody inscription will appear in a moment, his breathing deepens and he curses under his breath.
“A little deeper, baby,” he encourages me. And after a moment, he adds to no one in particular, “I think I’m in love.”
C H I L D R A P I S T
Maybe that’s why my hand doesn’t tremble once as I carve out letter after letter. When I finish, I also take a deep breath. Not from exertion, but from anger.
“I have a favor to ask,” I whisper, looking up at my partner. “I want to watch you take care of him. Please do your best to make him suffer in a special way.”
Ryker leans over and kisses me lightly, then a sinister smile appears on his face. “Your wish is my command, my Little Killer.”
I walk away from them, approach the wall, and slump to the ground. Leaning against it for the next hour or more, I watch with fascination as the Jackal creates his art. Amid screams, whimpers, and pleas, he creates a bloody masterpiece.
And it’s fucking beautiful.
When he finishes and the man in agony comes to the end of his life, Ryker walks up to me. He crouches between my legs, puts his bloody hands on my cheeks, and looks deep into my eyes.
We’re both excited and for a moment, our thirst for blood is satisfied.
He was absolutely right about me.
To make things easier, Ryker rents us a room at a seedy motel. We’re a long way from the city, so it makes sense. After all the fun in the warehouse, I dream of freshening up, even though I like having someone else’s blood on me.
Unfortunately, others don’t really share my point of view, and I could end up in jail faster than I can say, “I’m innocent.”
Our fun was bloody exciting, and that loser got what he deserved. However, when it’s all over, I’m exhausted.
I don’t object when Ryker leads me to the car, opens the passenger door, and waits for me to get in. I’m extra quiet, and he doesn’t push to talk. That’s how we spend the ride to the motel.
We leave the car in the darkest parking spot, and when we get out, he takes my hand, intertwining our fingers. The warmth he radiates draws my attention until he pulls me gently behind him.