Chapter Twenty-Five
Roman
As much as I wanted her come to drip from my chin, she lied and they are slowly catching up to her. I know she has been up to something, but not to the extent of Nikolai texting me to meet because it’s an emergency.
I asked him to find everything about Shawn so I can destroy everything he has before I kill him and I can’t wait to make him suffer. I want to drain his accounts and spread the information to expose him as a predator so there is no care left for that fuck when he goes missing. A sicko with my Ava. My Sweet Rabbit didn’t deserve that, nobody does. She must have been so scared, trapped, thrashing against his psychotic slimy hands. I’m proud of the pieces of her that surfaced and sliced and diced his ego. I just wished it was his dick instead of his shoulder. She is too sweet to actually kill him, but I can see her inner darkness emerge ever so often and I love it. He will fucking get a slice across his throat, for every time he even looked at her, when I kill him.
Nobody is allowed to possess her, break her, or bend her. No, that is my responsibility.
I lock the door from the outside as she screams my name and a few choice words about me.
That’s ok My Sweet Rabbit, keep screaming, because you will be doing the same for me later.
Adjusting my cock under my black pants, I enter where Alexei, Sergey and Nikolai wait for me. The Library is cool as the gray clouds reflect the smothered sunlight, wrapping its blue hues around the terrariums and bookshelves. Sergey leans over the fireplace, poking at it to burn brighter. Nikolai has his laptop open at a desk as his glasses reflect the fire in one lens and the blue light in the other.
Alexei jumps from sitting from a black cushioned chair in front of the fireplace, “Uh,” he points to the shattered window in the back, “Did someone fall?” He questions with a joke.
The distant cries of Ava muffles as Alexei raises his brows with a smile. I grin to reply, “Almost.” I lean into the other chair in front of the fireplace.
Nikolai presses his temples with his fingers, “How could this be. I missed this fucker and that bitch too.”
I jump up, “Don’t you ever say that about—”
“ —I’m talking about her.” Nikolai turns the computer, facing it to me.
Sarah Riddle. Her picture is side to side with Shawn’s.
Nikolai steeps his fingers under his chin, “She goes by Sarah but her name is Tara, which makes me laugh because they are so similar,” he chuckles a whisper, “Dumb-asses.”
I scan the document labeled FBI AGENT under Sarah’s picture, and FBI INFORMANT under Shawn’s.
“This is where it gets weird,” Nikolai says as he takes off his glasses, “I was looking at the guests coming to the Masquerade, and the Italians have recently been working with him. Even though his job is to track the legality of their transactions. My guess is to get enough information about us and take the Volokhov Bratva down so they can rule over Baltimore. One issue though, if they take down the Bratva, we go with it.”
“And Sarah?” I ask as I pace in front of Nikolai.
“She is a hard one to crack. She has no connection to Shawn other than working for the FBI too. She is an agent, so she is on a separate mission. I’m not sure if she is rogue with Shawn but most likely is or is at least aware.”
I set my knuckles on the desk, sinking my head into my shoulders, “Ava?”
“I’m not finding anything on her, other than what I found for you before and that is just a name.”
Sergey sits in the chair near the fire, batting the metal poker rod against his hand, “So, she could be…” he says, shrugging his shoulders.
As much as I don’t want to believe it, Sergey is probably right. She is not working with Shawn but could be with Sarah. That is her best friend, and now all of a sudden wants to go to the place she has fought to stay away from to just survive? I watch Alexei scrolling his phone, paying no attention to us.
He tilts his head up at me in confusion, “So….who are we killing?” He questions excitedly, leaning forward on the chair. It creaks below him as I rub my lips, savoring the taste of Ava as I try and figure out what our next move is.
Nikolai shuts the computer screen, “And from what I gather, Shawn will be at the Masquerade. Obviously the Italians have him down as one of them.”
Red floods of rage reach the top of my skull, “I’ll take care of Shawn, and nobody even thinks about touching Ava.” They all reactively lift their palms up, alleging to the thought of it never crossing their minds. “As for Sarah, we can invite her to the party. You know, to make her feel welcomed,” I say with doom, billowing from my breath.
Ava is quiet as I walk to the room. She must have gave up trying to get a reaction. I open the door, and I see her staring up at the ceiling. Her breaths are heavy, slow and steady. She lowers her chin down, parting her mouth like she was about to spit venom, but purses them tightly when she sees me opening a drawer in my dresser. I hide the key behind my back, strolling to her side.
She looks so beautiful chained on my bed.
Her chest accelerates as her nose flares, huffing in air rapidly. I watched her movements closely, savoring her in. She closes her eyes, turning her face away from me like she was anticipating something.
Reaching for her wrists, I click the key into the locks, freeing her wrists one after the other.“I think it is interesting though,” I say, as I stand at the end of bed, “The way you love the punishment.” I bend over pulsing the vibrator into her. She cries out and instantly orgasms as she grips the bed sheets. I keep it steady against her watching her pussy clench down on my toy. Making her wait, and build her up with the need to come, made me want to spread her lips and fuck that sweet pussy myself. But I needed to take care of some things first.
I slide the dildo out, placing it on the corner of the bed as she looks at me and sits up, straining her ankles under the chains. She shakes her head, and eases her breath as she rubs where the chains were on her wrists. Her hair is a beautiful mess as she brushes it past her shoulders. I can tell she is trying to stay tough, and I love that she is.
I crawl between her sprawling legs, keeping my eyes on her hands, taking her wrists into both of my hands and kiss them slowly. I am silent, because I am not sure how many more times I can ask her to tell me the actual truth. Nikolai said he wasn’t sure and it was only a possibility that she is working with the FBI. I’m not sure what to do with that information now.
I lean on my hip, folding my leg upward in a bend as I rest my arm on my knee. My hand runs through my hair, pushing the disheveled strands into uniform as my brain wracks what to do. I honestly don’t know what to do right now other than be with her until I do. She interlaces her fingers together between her legs as she pinches and pulls her on her knuckles. I watch the fear fade from her.
Heaving chest into a steady sigh, her voice cracks, “What was that about?” She asks with guilt in her movement, but I keep myself silent, focusing on her fidgets.
Ava
He stares at my hands, deep in thought about something, hopefully not how to clean blood off the white carpet. I try to ease my fears and count my breaths. His arms and shoulders tense but he isn’t responding. My gut flips, even though I keep a steady count, as I try to calm myself from all the ways he will hurt me before he kills me. He had his chance when he came back so why didn’t he?
I focus on the gas mask tattoo on his hand.
They always say put your oxygen mask on before anyone else's, and for the first time in my life I did. Taking control of my own life. But now I don’t know why I am here anymore, even if he found out. My skin and lower abdomen still aches for his touch, to please him, for him to usher me. Just like he said.
My own ferryman to hell.
Confining me to the edge of the boat to either jump, or stay and see where it takes me. The pain in my heart shatters as I shrink myself over, bending my head to my chest.
“Mmmmm, it’s ok,” he rumbles, tucking my hair behind my ear. He unlocks my ankles, sweeping the rattling chains over my shins, up my thighs. I wait for him to consume me, either by pushing me into the pleasure or into those murky waters of lost souls.
I shuffle, positioning my knees under me. I sat there, tumbling down into my thoughts.
Why didn't he kill me like all the others? Why am I here?
He stands and wraps his arms around me. Lifting me to him hastily, he interrupts any thought other than him against me. I wrap my legs around him as my core soaks the front of his shirt as he exits the room. His hands constrain, digging into my naked ass as I dig my forehead into his shoulder. The darkness between us soothes me with every bounce of his step. I wasn’t sure where he was taking me, but his sweet smell of amber and tense muscles creates an insatiable need for him, igniting a warmth in me once again. I grind my hips into him, wishing we could have just stayed in his room. Where we can be together, standing still in time, and not face what the meeting was about, where he was taking me, or anything else.
I’m so confused. Where do I go from here?
“That’s it, Cottontail,” he praises in my ear.
The muscles of his torso are hard against my core. He sprawls his fingers, pressing his fingertips inward onto my ass. The bounce of his steps halts when I hear a door open and shut. I lift my head to a fluorescent lit room with cardboard boxes lining the walls, overflowing with knick knacks and books. The worn cracks of the concrete in the basement are bare with only a small window to the outside.
He must have seen my face frown because he shushes in my ear gently, placing me on my feet. I fold my hands in front of my bare lower half, and my face is hot with shame when I see the wet spot on his gray undershirt.
Get a-fucking- hold of yourself Ava. He obviously brought you down here to finally kill you.
He ambles to one of the boxes, ripping the tape off, “Your things were brought over last night. I didn’t want to wake you, so Nikolai helped me stack a few in here.”
The heat lingers in my cheeks from him carrying me half-naked like he enjoys humiliating me, but I think I somehow like it too. That I enjoy being owned by him somehow.
Relief settles in me when he pulls out my favorite Mary-Jane platforms, black plaid mini skirt, ribbed black short sleeve shirt and black stockings. “We are going to eat, shower, and then we have somewhere to be this evening.”
“Where are we going?” I ask, reaching for the neat stack of clothes and shoes.
“Out for fun, but first, you are going to finish the food we had to leave behind last night because of your tantrum.” His voice soothes into a growl, prickling the hair on my arms. “You need to eat and I will bring the rest of the boxes up later,” he assures me.
“And…Pants to go eat?” I ask, staring down at myself.
A broad smile flashes his teeth, “Where is the fun in that, Cottontail?”
Embarrassment is the least of my worries if I have to eat in the kitchen bottomless. The flutters of lust and guilt turn into a crashing wave of anger. I feel like my skin is crawling because of how fast my moods have been changing.
He scoops his arms around me, forcing my legs back around his torso. I cradle my things between us. “I have fucking legs you know,” I declare in his face, “Not that you noticed apparently.”
“And they are spectacular. But let's see how well you can use them when we go out tonight after what I do to you,” he says in a low voice, vibrating his torso against me. He bends at the waist hoisting me in a fling.
I grab his neck mid air as my clothes drop to the floor, “Jesus-fucking-christ,” I yell.
He lets out a laugh as he picks the shoes and clothes up with one hand, and the other on my waist. I cling onto him with all my strength like I was stuck on my own personal roller-coaster from hell. You know the ones that have duct tape over the bolts, thinking you can handle the risk at first but then realize you are out of your element as you hold on for dear life. In more ways than one.
I can’t believe he almost let me fall.
He keeps me dangling as he smiles. I can’t help but laugh in his face but I'm not sure if it is because I am scared or if I was enjoying this.
A jolt of free falling exalts the air from me as his grip on my waist eases. I yell again as he grapples my hip, halting me from crashing into the concrete. My yell drifts to silence as I shift my eyes to the concrete sizing up how close I was to my head cracking open.
Well maybe he does want to kill me?
His face hovers over mine, “I thought you liked to be thrown into the action,” he says jokingly, “… places you don’t belong in.” He stands with a straight face as I rest my elbows on his shoulders in defeat.
“What do you mean?” I shake my head with a quiet laugh, “I came here to work but you are a distraction.” His eyes watch my mouth as I fold in my lips. I gulp down any ounce of laughter left as the tips of his fingers dig into my waist.
“Oh, and you forgot about the late night reading,” he says as sarcasm slinks between his teeth. I stare, searching his face to prove my innocence.
I nod my head, “What can I say, I love a good research project.”
“I bet you do.” he says as he slightly shakes his head.
He scales the steps from the basement to the garage and I account how far the basement is to the inside. If I can get a moment away from him, there is a chance to find something in those boxes. With the weight of his pressure around me, compressing me to him, I’m afraid I'll never get away and get what I really came for.