Chapter 20
Twenty
Enzo
I’d never taken my Fawns off campus with me, but today, that changed.
If I had to endure the hell of fake grieving at the funeral of a man I’d killed, then Blair could suffer through it too.
My reluctance to attend the funeral for Hedgeford—the senator’s son whose car we had blown up—wasn’t from guilt. I felt none of that.
Guilt was a sign of weakness—something anyone with two fucking brain cells should know better than to feel.
Hedgeford had tried to blackmail Brooks. He should’ve seen his death coming.
But to save face, I’d go.
My father, who hated attending anything, was pissed at me for having to do the same. He typically forced Benny or me to go to events on behalf of the family.
When I heard Blair’s shower water running, I pushed the bathroom door open to find her wrapped in a towel and checking the water’s temperature.
“Keep that tattoo dry.” I gestured to her stomach.
She pulled her hand from the water and flicked it at me. “You can’t just mark people whenever you want.”
I tapped my knuckles against the doorframe. “That’s where you’re mistaken, my sweet Fawn.”
I stepped into the bathroom, trapping her against the shower’s glass wall. My mouth curved into a cruel smirk when I tugged the towel from her body.
When she reached for it, I snatched her wrist to stop her.
Lowering my head, I whispered in her ear, “I can mark you, fuck you, do anything I want with this sweet body.”
She shuddered as I crawled my fingers down the soft skin of her hips.
“Now, don’t get that tattoo wet, or I’ll make sure it’s marked on your forehead next time.” To emphasize my words, I tapped her forehead with one hand and smacked her ass with the other. “Come on. We don’t have much time. Someone made me run late by making me eat her pussy.”
As soon as I retreated a step, she quickly snatched the towel and wrapped it back around her. On my way out of the room, I grabbed my blazer and threw it over my shoulder.
I cracked my neck as I walked down the corridor toward a secret door hidden in a wall of stone around the corner.
After I scanned my fingerprint, the door slid open, revealing a dark tunnel. I stalked through it and made a beeline for Locker Hall.
“How’s she doing?” Brooks asked when I walked in. He shrugged into his black blazer.
“Fine, given the circumstances,” I replied.
“She seemed strong until we played that song.”
I nodded.
“How fucked up that a lullaby was her weakness.”
“I need to find out why, the significance of it all.”
“The fact that someone had tipped us off on her trauma means they knew she’d been chosen, knew when her Initiation was.” He kicked his foot up on a bench to tie his shoes.
“It had to have been her stepfather.”
“Have you figured out who he is?”
“Not yet.”
“I’ll make sure the other Sons keep their ears open.”
“Appreciate it.”
“It’s fucking bullshit we have to attend this funeral.”
I pitied Brooks more than myself today. The funeral would be broadcast on TV and streamed live. The cameras would be on him and his family, so he had to pretend to mourn the pussy-ass bitch we’d killed. At least I could sit in the back with no cameras in my face.
Good thing I had been born to a mobster and not the president.
I could’ve never faked it like Brooks.
“You want to ride with me?” Brooks asked.
“Nah.” I shook my head. “I’m taking Blair with me.”
He dropped the Rolex he had been clasping around his wrist. “Seriously?”
“Yeah,” I said as he stooped to pick it up.
“Since when do you do shit like that with Fawns?”
“Consider it another form of torture.”
He grinned. “See you there then.”
I left Locker Hall and headed back to Blair’s room in her Fawn Quarters, hoping she didn’t decide to drown herself in the shower. Or slit her wrists with the razor. Both had happened before.
Not to any of my Fawns.
My past Fawns had preferred to go crazy or jump out windows like they were in fucking Peter Pan.
After Initiation, Fawns were assigned a personal room within the tunnels. Sometimes, we’d instruct them to stay in those rooms for our convenience. Other times, if we wanted to avoid them, we’d make them stay in their dorms.
Everything depended on our moods.
Everything was always about us.
Like I’d told Blair, being a Fawn was hell, but I’d make sure she felt a little pleasure along with it.
To limit their knowledge about us and the tunnels, they had a private entrance. The hidden door I’d gone through was the only way to enter the rest of the tunnels. Most didn’t even know there were more tunnels, chambers, or even the Devil’s Lair.
While Blair had passed her Initiation, her work was far from over.
She still had plenty to prove.
She was a Fawn now and had taken an oath to me.
I needed to make sure she fulfilled that. We’d watch her every second of every day until we were comfortable giving her more freedom. I’d linked her phone and emails to my devices. When she got a call, text, or notification, I received it as well.
Not that she knew that. You never told someone you were tracking them.
I whistled as I walked, shocked and satisfied that Blair had surrendered so easily to me earlier. And, fuck, she’d tasted delicious.
The sweetest Fawn I’d ever had.
Though we needed to work on her oral skills.
While she had made me come—which I blamed on the fact that I’d been dreaming about her mouth on my cock since I’d fucking seen her—the blow job had been subpar.
Her lack of cocksucking skills wasn’t a problem for me.
I preferred it because it usually meant she lacked the experience of having other cocks in her mouth.
I stopped my whistling, and my cock twitched in my slacks as I imagined how satisfying fucking her would feel.
Closing my eyes, I thought of all the positions I’d take her in.
All the ways I’d give her pleasure and pain.
When I returned to her room, I found her blow-drying her hair in the bathroom. The towel was knotted at her front, and her feet were bare, still dripping with water.
She turned off the blow dryer when she noticed me and gestured toward the items spread along the large vanity. “How did you know what products I use?”
When we gave Fawns rooms, we made sure everything they used daily was in there. We wanted them to feel comfortable here.
“I went through the bathroom in your dorm,” I answered simply.
“Of course you did,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes. “Speaking of invasion of privacy, who dressed and undressed me for this stupid Initiation thing?”
I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth in frustration.
Those electrolytes and my cum must’ve recharged her, restoring her attitude. They also must’ve given her the balls to disrespect the Initiation and me. She needed to be fucking grateful she was alive and not in the ground with Jett.
I inched into the bathroom, and she froze as I stood behind her.
My voice turned volatile as I pressed her body into the vanity. “Just because I ate your pussy doesn’t mean I’ll tolerate disrespect.” I unplugged the blow dryer and took it from her.
She jumped when I smacked it against the vanity, breaking it. My heart skipped a beat in satisfaction when she pressed her palms against the vanity, trying to shove me off her as I loosely wrapped the cord around her neck.
I applied only a bit of pressure to remind her of her place.
Not tight enough to kill her.
Just enough to scare her.
I waited until I saw that fear deep in her eyes.
Until her mouth fell open, tiny gasps leaving her throat.
Snarling, I curled my upper lip and shoved her into the vanity, cord still wrapped around her throat. “Watch your tone and words when you speak to me, Fawn.” I spat out the last word, not even bothering with pleasantries this time.
She released a single exaggerated gasp, and I rolled my eyes at her dramatics.
This wasn’t even enough pressure to break a windpipe, let alone kill her.
Bored and short on time, I released one of her hands. That hand immediately went to her throat in an attempt to pull the cord away.
I snatched her wrist again, returned it to the vanity, and slid the cord up and down her throat. She choked again as I gave it one final tug and released her, pushing her forward until her ass was in the air.
As bad as I wanted to keep playing, I couldn’t bring her to the funeral with strangulation marks around her neck.
People may think I’m not a great upstanding citizen.
With the blow dryer still in my hand, I retreated a step and hurled it toward the glass shower door. One crack formed before the entire thing shattered, shards flying across the room.
Blair recoiled from the sharp glass, careful around her bare feet, while holding her hands around her throat, massaging her fingers into the skin.
I crouched, picking up a shard, and pushed her back into the vanity. Her breathing shuddered as I pressed the shard point against her throat before lowering it to her stomach and circling the tattoo.
“Blair, I don’t offer many warnings,” I said. “And you saw me with Jett. You know the terror and violence I’m capable of.” Raising my hand, I used the shard to scratch my neck, finding pleasure from it scraping my skin. “Be a good Fawn, and you won’t get slaughtered.”
I threw the shard in the sink and left the bathroom.
Let that be a fucking lesson to her.
Political figures, lobbyists, and opportunists crowded the cathedral for Hedgeford Mitchell’s funeral. I was sure a few were genuinely mourning the idiot, but my money was not on many.
Maybe the group of frat boys in the corner, looking hungover and creepy.
From what I’d learned about Hedgeford, he didn’t brighten rooms when he walked in. He was a lame-dick fucker who tried to blackmail Brooks on his father’s behalf.
Like a duckling, Blair trailed me as I searched the cathedral for my father and Benny. I found them on the other side, having an in-depth conversation with New York City’s mayor. Same as me, they both wore black suits with black ties.