Chapter 27
Shadow
If Lowrens could scream, he would, but currently, he is passed out.
For the umpteenth time. In the beginning, he was able to maintain at least ten minutes of consciousness, but after just an hour, his body is shutting down, and he is passing out every other minute. It is probably due to a lack of oxygen.
The bed has moved so far forward with the activities taking place at the rear that Lowrens is beyond deep-throating the mechanized object, and now it is so far down I wonder how he hasn’t choked to death or choked on his vomit.
His neck is also starting to swell from the trauma.
He has minutes left. The pool of blood under the metal bed has increased in volume, and I estimate he has lost about thirty-five percent of his blood. More than forty percent was fatal.
Bobby ‘One Fist’ Brown’s nickname and the arm attached to it is covered in blood and bodily excretions. His whole body has a sheen of sweat from exertion.
When Gavin dips his head toward me, I approach .
“He is awake. And he seems to be trying to communicate.”
“Whatever he says now will be his last words. There is not much time,” I mumble to Gavin as we approach the entrance to the container.
The smell is disgusting, even for me, but I shove the queasy feeling down.
Lowrens’ eyes are bulging, and there are cut marks from the double-pronged collar around his neck.
Even bloodshot, his eyes plead for mercy.
I push the bed back and watch as the mechanized item exits his mouth, along with bile, spit, and blood.
He cannot cough or splutter, and there is no way anything is going into his mouth now as it almost seems to swell shut as he wheezes through his nose.
I unlatch the collar, and his head flops forward. As much as it can with the swelling.
“Loosen his hand and give him a pen and paper,” I say to Gavin when I see talking is a thing of the past for Lowrens. The Reaper. Sienna’s father’s murderer. And torturer of countless other women we may never know of.
Make no mistake, Lowrens had tortured many more women than Sienna and the one Gavin found. Guys like this didn’t find their fetish so fully with just one or two victims. It took time and many victims.
Gavin hunches down beside Lowrens and puts a pen in his hand while holding a pad of paper under it. Lowrens struggles to write, with the pen dropping from his hand many times.
When he eventually stops, Gavin hands me the paper, smears of blood, and pen scratch marks, making the words barely legible. Lowrens also seems to be using only some letters to make his point. The effort to write is seen in his spelling.
Kil me, pls. I tel u who els behind this.
I glance at Gavin, and he nods, clearly thinking the same thing I am. Lowrens is as good as dead, no matter what. Getting this information from him could be useful. I knew there was someone else, I just needed to figure out who. He might save me a whole lot of effort.
“Okay. Tell me.”
Gavin hands him the pen, and he writes one word.
prmse
“Promise.” I want to laugh at this. I love how he thinks me saying the word guarantees anything. I owe him nothing, especially not mercy. But I will play this little game.
Clearly, he doesn’t know that if he just waited a few more minutes, he would be dead anyway.
“You can take Bobby to get cleaned up and ready for transportation,” I order the guards, watching Bobby swing his arm back and forth, trying to get some of the bodily debris off.
He dips his head in my direction, his striking eyes drifting from me to Lowrens before he turns and is escorted out by two of my guards.
He has not said one word since being here.
He isn’t mute but selectively speaks as and when he feels like it.
Tears of relief run down Lowrens’ face, and he picks up the pen, writing something on the paper.
Brt Smpsn
Bright Simpson. The same name Rodger had given me and the person looking into Sienna’s case files. While this wasn’t new information, it confirmed that this person was the other player in this game—the one who had funded this freak show and almost saw my rainbow in this same position.
I nod and then stand up, pocketing the note.
Lowrens gurgles as he tries to talk, his eyes pleading with me.
I take out my gun, bending down so that he can see me.
Then I cock it and hold it against his head, pushing the muzzle against his flesh in the same spot and on the same side of his temple where he had held my light at gunpoint.
“Do you remember what you said to her?”
Lowrens blinks twice, which I assume means no.
I remember how steady his hand was as he held the gun against Sienna's head, as if threatening my girl's life was easy.
The tremble that racks his body and the opposite of his steadiness that night makes me happy.
Now he knows her terror. Now, he knows how personal having a gun held to one's head by another can be.
“I’m going to remove my hand. If you scream, I will shoot you. Understand.”
“That’s what you said to her. I will offer you that same deal now.” His eyes widen as more tears stream down, as many as Sienna cried over him.
I lift my eyebrows, looking at him expectantly. He couldn’t scream now to save his life. Or end it.
His mouth opens and closes like a fish, but beyond a strangled gurgle, nothing comes out.
“Not even a little scream?” I taunt, shaking my head in disappointment.
“Well, then. There is nothing I can do.”
I uncock my gun and stand up, giving him one last look before I leave. His death will come momentarily, and while it might be quick, it will be painful.
“Burn everything when it is done. Including him,” I instruct my guards as Gavin and I leave.
Relief floods me, as does the fresh air in the warehouse, though the stench of what has happened in the container might take a while to forget.
“If you don’t need me, then I’ll see you at Sin ?” Gavin asks as we exit the warehouse.
“Go home and take a day or two. I know this was a hard job.”
He shakes his head before running his hand over his buzz-cut hair.
“Not harder than what his victims had to endure. But thanks, I’ll take you up on that offer and see you on Monday.”
He heads toward his truck while I walk toward mine.
Now, there was just one more player to eliminate from this game. To end it once and for all.
Bright Simpson.
It wasn’t a real name. No one would be stupid enough to use their real name. But if this was a personal vendetta against me, which it clearly was, considering the lengths someone was going to, it still may hold a clue.
For now, I just need to shower and climb into bed with my rainbow. Breathe in her scent and maybe sink my cock into her, just sheath it while we sleep.
The thought of that sees me breaking several speeding restrictions as I make it to Requiem in record time.
When I get upstairs and open my penthouse door, her familiar scent engulfs me, soothing me instantly.
I follow it along the familiar path to our room.
There she lies, cocooned in my bedspread with her beautiful red hair splayed across the pillows. Her face is serene and peaceful. Thankfully. Probably due to the sedative.
With a haste fueled by my longing to hold her, I strip off my clothes and head to the shower. The scalding water washes over me, easing some of the tension that’s been building. I don’t bother getting dressed, and when I pull back the covers and see that my rainbow is similarly butt naked, I smile.
The perfect woman for me .
I pull her close so that we are spooning as I wrap my arms around her. Her gentle breathing and the rhythmic thud of her heart soothe me into my own slumber.
We sleep for hours—thirteen hours, to be exact.
I am woken from that dreamless sleep by a hand guiding my already hard cock into her already wet pussy.
I lift her leg over mine and then thrust forward, her buttocks flush against my groin as I drive into her.
Sienna moans out deliciously, then shifts her body forward, increasing the angle of penetration.
I find her hard little numb, circling it with my thumb as she trembles, her body meeting my thrusts with a force of her own.
Without removing myself, I flip her over as I get on my knees, her perfect rear up in the air and affording me a delicious view as I fuck my cock into her.
When I lean forward and circle her neck with my hand, squeezing gently, her beautiful green eyes meet mine.
“Fuck me harder, Daddy Damon.” Her words release a demon in me, and I give my rainbow what she asks.
“For you, anything.” I grunt, as I start fucking her harder, faster, my hand smacking that perfect round ass of hers until it is red, and she is screaming.
“Fuck, rainbow, your pussy is being destroyed by my cock, and it’s so wet.” I grind into her, leaning forward as I run my thumb around her opening, which is stuffed, and rub the soaked digit over her clit for demonstration.
“I’m coming, Damon!” she screams as her whole body tenses, the walls of her vagina clamping closed around me and forcing my cock forward with a final thrust as I paint her walls full of my come.
I slip out of her, the area so sensitive that she moans as I do.
Then I pull her up and against my chest while I lie back.
The feel of the wetness between our legs makes me pull her closer, possessively, as she ignites that primal feeling in me.
I’ve never fucked someone from a place of love, and it makes this experience so much more intense.
I’ve also never cuddled with someone afterward and relished in the feel of our mixed juices.
If she weren’t so sensitive, I would go down on her now and clean her up with my tongue.
“Are you okay?” She is worried about me when I should be asking her that question.
“You know I’m fine. Are you okay?”
She pushes up, her hair framing her face and laying against my chest as she props herself up on her elbows.
“I shouldn’t be okay. But I am. That doesn’t mean I want to know the details. It’s the cowardly route to leave you dealing with it like that. If you need to talk, I’ll listen. But if you don’t, I’d rather not know how it went. How it ended.”
I smile and stroke her cheek.
“You’re not a coward, Sienna. Saying you don’t want to handle something is a brave acknowledgment. Take it as such.”
She smiles and then lays her head back on my chest, her finger circling the area absentmindedly.
“I didn’t expect him to look so…normal.” Her voice is small, barely audible as if she is speaking to herself.
“Monsters are chameleons. Well, most. My dark side is quite obvious. Yet, you saw more. Not all of us can be more than what we are. I think that is why some become what they do. Their search for that feeling driving them.”
Sienna shakes her head vigorously, propping herself up again.
“No, Damon. You have a dark side. But you are not a monster. Not to me.” Would she be saying that if she had stayed tonight? Probably not. But she didn’t stay. And so we are saved from that theoretical situation—a win I would take.
“So what happens now? There's still that text I got. Someone is still out there.” She shivers, and I run my hands up and down her back, the fear in her eyes not fading.
“Don’t worry about anything. All of this will be over soon. Trust me.” Her eyes search mine, and then she nods and smiles.
“I trust you, Damon.” A gift I would not squander. One worth so much more than most people could comprehend. The first time it has been gifted to me in its entirety.
“So while I deal with that, I want you to arrange our wedding.”
Even though I still had to ask her brother, hence why he was coming to Sin tomorrow. His answer was irrelevant. Sienna would become Deangelo. But I wanted to do it right. I wanted to ask him, seeing as their father wasn’t around.
“There is no limit to the budget,” I say, leaning over to open my side drawer while she sits up, straddling my waist.
“It’s for you. Spend as much as you want.” She takes the black card I give her, her gaze drifting from it to me.
“I mean it. I have more money than I could spend in this lifetime. So don’t limit yourself to this city as a location. We can have it anywhere you want.”
She doesn’t argue. It’s a material thing, something that holds little meaning to me—and to her as well.
That doesn’t mean I don’t recognize how fortunate I am.
I came from poverty, and because of that, or perhaps in spite of it, I’ve come to understand that the true value lies in things beyond the physical.
“Okay. It will be small and intimate, so who are the people most important to you?”
“You are the most important.” She swats my chest and rolls her eyes.
“You know what I mean,” she says, exasperated while smiling.
“I’m going to invite my brother, Dee, and the kids. And then Marcello and Lucy.” She tilts her head to the side and laughs. “Wow, actually, that’s all from my side.”
“Jordan, Kai, and Gavin.” She holds her hands up, dropping her fingers as she counts.
“Wow, party of nine, here we come.” She laughs, her breasts jiggling as she does. Fuck, like this, she looks so beautiful and free.
“Does it bother you that you do not have more friends and family?”
“It did when James died. But it wasn’t so much a specific person I missed. It was just the company. But since meeting you, I realized I only hated being alone because I didn’t love myself. I didn’t love the person I became after that incident.”
Her eyes drift over to the mirror on the wall and connect with her own.
“I love who I am now, thanks to you, Damon.” Her eyes drift from hers to mine in the mirror, and she smiles.
Her gaze drifts back, and she circles her name on my chest before her eyes move to the side, latching onto the tattoo of the ghost rider.
Her finger grazes it, and then her eyes meet mine.
“I’m sure if he were here, he would be invited. I wish I could have met him. You chose your company carefully, so he must have been something special.”
Thoughts of Nicolo rise at her words, but I try not to think of him, his memory tainted by the woman attached to him. Julia Scarva.
I tilt my head to the side, watching my rainbow’s finger trace the tattoo's outlines that symbolize our friendship and Nicolo’s meaning to me. As I stare at it, the name on the note in my suit pocket pops into my mind.
Bright Simpson. Bright Simpson.
It repeats and repeats, joining with the sensation of Sienna's finger against the fine black lines of the ghost rider .
The click of everything falling into place is so profound I sit up.
I know who Bright Simpson is.