Chapter 9
Shadow
My hand should be circling my rainbow’s neck, not this asshole pissing his pants.
While this one is a step up in skill level to what they sent last night, it is still like catching a mouse in a fishbowl.
Bob easily overpowered him in the alley behind Yvonne's and brought him to this warehouse I own close to Sin .
Where captive number one, Mancio, was held in another room until about an hour ago.
His body would be dumped in gang territory where cops could do what they did best. Pin things to the wrong people.
At this rate, I would have a collection of incompetent thugs to take my anger out on.
After leaving Sienna in Yvonne's capable hands and with Bob back there to keep an eye on her, I left to come here. My anger at Mr. Making My Girl Feel Uncomfortable was starting to make Sienna suspicious.
Now here we are, and instead of looking into beautiful green eyes as I should be right now, I am looking into red, bulging ones as I cut off the blood supply to an organ he clearly doesn’t use while piss splashes onto my Tom Ford Customs.
He tries speaking, but all that comes out is a gargled, incomprehensible noise.
The knife in my other hand glints in the light while blood drips from the tip, falling into the puddle of yellow bodily fluids.
When he looks like he might pass out, I lower him to the ground, his feet finding purchase on the piss-filled floor while the chains around his wrists keep him in place.
I hold his hand against the wall, his words clearer as a raspy ‘please’ leaves his lips. Desperation swims in every tear running down his splotchy red cheeks.
“I don’t like repeating myself.”
My knife slices into the flesh of the third digit on his right hand, then I add more force and push down, cutting through the phalangeal joint until I hit the wall behind. The sound of metal meeting concrete is drowned out.
Pity, as it is my third-best sound. Recently moved from its top spot to be replaced with Sienna’s moans taking numero uno and my name from her lips, sitting a close second.
The scream echoes around the room as Ricardo’s middle finger plops into the foul-smelling urine on the floor, joining two others already there. If ever there was a motivation to drink more water, this was it.
“I don’t know who it was!” Same response as before.
“They messaged me anonymously and said I was to grab the girl. That’s all. You can check my phone. They paid me ten grand upfront and said I would get another ten when I dropped her off at a mall parking lot in Crawley. That’s it. I fucking swear. Check my phone. ”
“Grab the girl,” I repeat, my tone deadly.
This is the same story Mancio gave me. Which didn’t make sense. If someone were out to screw me over, then they would send a different caliber of person. This made me think that perhaps I wasn’t the target at all. It could have nothing to do with me and everything to do with my Sienna.
Which angers me further. Why would anyone want to take her? And to do what with?
Dwindling Digits whimpers as I grab his phone from his jeans pocket, a frown creasing my brow when I see it is looking for a fingerprint to unlock the screen.
My eyes meet with his, and then he looks from the phone to his right index finger, marinading in the yellow and red puddle on the floor.
I take my knife and stab the digit with the tip before wiping the pad against Ricardo's shirt to remove the liquid. Once his cell is unlocked, I flick the severed finger to the side next to some crates.
In seconds, the number is with my IT department, filled with some of the best hackers in the world. Two of them were top graduates fresh out of MIT, and three others served time for charges of cybersecurity-related crimes.
“Please let me go. I gave you what you wanted,” Ricardo pleads, his tears running down his blotchy face and mixing with the snot dangling from his nose, across his lips, and dripping off his chin.
“You were going to put your hands on my girl.” Ricardo's eyes go wide at my words, the fear in their depths changing to shock as I plunge my knife deep into his chest, the crunch of bone meeting metal making me smirk.
It isn’t fatal, but it will attract the rats. It would be painful. This is a message to anyone who dared put their paws on my girl .
Ironically, one such rodent is already nibbling on his discarded finger close to the crates. It doesn’t even scatter when I walk past, so accustomed to this situation. Perhaps I am becoming too predictable, I think, eyeing the rat thoughtfully.
The guard monitoring this section opens the door for me, his head dipping in greeting.
“Dump the body when it’s done.” The instruction is followed by a ‘yes boss’ and a curt nod.
Two hours have passed, and my irritation at their waste further sours my mood.
I should have been at Yvonne’s. Watching Sienna while she tries to understand what style suits her.
She doesn’t know. Because she is not the same person she was three months ago. She has changed and doesn’t know this new self. In the back of her mind, she can feel it, and what I fucking adore is that she isn’t afraid to figure it out.
My rainbow doesn’t look away from this new reflection. She edges closer, eager to discover what lies behind it.
Luckily for me, knowing Yvonne, Sienna would still be trying on dresses.
Glancing at my shoes, I detour past my office at Sin for a quick shower and change of clothes. And a little trip to room one before returning to Yvonne’s.
Bob is nowhere to be seen, but I know he is around. Unlike the stupids being sent, he actually knows what he is doing.
When I enter the front doors, I am immediately on edge. No one is in the shop's front section where I last left Sienna. My heart rate instantly increases as I grab the hilt of my knife.
Stealthily, I maneuver between the rows of dresses, noise at the back of the shop drawing my attention .
“So let me get this straight. You have only slept with one man your entire life, and it was vanilla?” Yvonne's voice drips with disgust, and I sheath my knife, the relief flooding my body a foreign feeling.
As foreign as the concept of only sleeping with one man appears to be to Yvonne, who makes a gagging sound at the thought.
“Yes. But I’m not sure what you mean by vanilla?” Sienna’s voice comes from further back and is more muffled, as if she is pulling clothes over her head.
“If you don’t know, you have answered your own question.” Yvonne sounds utterly shocked as she picks up a set of red lingerie and drops it over the top of the curtain.
“Are you sure about this?” Sienna asks, her voice high-pitched. “I don’t see why I can’t just wear the bra and panties I have on now.”
“Geezuz. They hold the sex appeal of a dead fish. You have a fantastic body, Sienna. You should showcase it.” There is no mistaking the desire in Yvonne's voice as she runs a hand over her lip, the strategic position of her chair giving her a view of Sienna through the slit in the curtain.
“But no one will see this.” Sienna’s words draw me forward, the movement catching Yvonne’s eye.
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Yvonne says loudly.
With a sly smile and a wink, she approaches me, stuffing a pair of thigh-high sheer black stockings into my suit pocket.
“You have half an hour.” She disappears, leaving me alone with Sienna.
“How does this even work?” Sienna’s voice is exasperated.
I approach the curtain, slowly pulling it open to reveal a sight I only thought possible in my dreams.
Fucking curves for days packed into thin pieces of red lace. My eyes are everywhere, all at once. Feeding. Drinking in .
The tiny mole on her right shoulder blade. The two dimples on her lower back. The goosebumps covering every inch of her skin. The curve of her ass where it meets her thigh. The faded red mark on her left ass cheek that makes my hand itch.
Sienna’s gaze meets mine in the mirror, a gasp leaving her mouth before she spins around.
I scan her body as her hands fly up, trying to cover parts of her that she feels vulnerable about. Her breasts. Her sweet pussy.
Seconds tick by, and it turns into minutes as we stand there, me leisurely taking my fill of her while she blushes the same shade as the set she is wearing. I don’t miss the sweep of her eyes over my body, the unchecked lust as she gawks at me, making my cock hard.
I finally move, sitting in the chair to the right of the dressing room.
“Sienna,” I greet, pulling the stockings from my pocket.
“Damon,” Sienna squeaks, her eyes darting to the curtain and beyond, looking for Yvonne.
“Come here.” Sienna’s gaze snaps back to mine, her mind working furiously as she calculates her choices, assesses the situation, and sifts through her feelings toward it.
Finally, she takes a step forward and then another one when I eye the spot on the floor directly in front of me.
“Foot.” I pat my knee, not breaking eye contact with her.
She looks at my leg and then back at me before slowly raising her leg so that her foot rests on my thigh.
I roll one of the stockings on my thumbs until it is bunched up, ready to meet the flesh it will showcase.
She lifts her foot, dipping it into the opening, before I slowly start rolling the sheer material up her foot, ankle, and calf. My fingers graze her skin through the thin fabric, squeezing her lungs as her breath quickens .
I lean forward slightly, her foot now resting on my thigh as I move the material over her knee and further up. My fingers finally meet her flesh as the band of the stockings hugs her leg.
My hand continues up her outer thigh, my face inches from her inner leg, my breath ghosting across her skin. Inhaling deeply, I can smell her arousal, the hand covering her sweet cunt doing nothing to assuage the intoxicating scent of her desire.
I grab the clip for her suspenders and attach it to the stocking, my hand lingering on her smooth skin before I repeat the process on the other side.
By the time I am finished, Sienna is panting, and her leg is shaking.