45 Seven
Having Celine Valmont by my side was certainly advantageous.
As soon as security attempted to halt us at the entrance, I gritted, "Don't even think about approaching Mrs. Valmont."
Her last name had a powerful effect, allowing us to navigate through the club effortlessly. The woman followed closely, now more intrigued than scared.
Viper had been on the line monitoring the audio, but his reports had become worrying when we were twenty minutes away from the destination. By the time I'd pulled into the alley, my body was one massive ball of rage.
Once we passed the security, Viper led me to the correct room, and without a second thought, I kicked the door open.
The air inside was dense and hot and stank of sweat and something else—blood. The only light came from a pair of dim sconces, turned all the way to hellfire red.
Kimmy's body was limp, sprawled across the chair, legs scarlet, face smashed against the armrest. Her wig was gone and she'd been cuffed.
Caius Valmont was mid-action, dick out and his pants around his knees. He was focused on Kimmy's face, the way an addict focuses on the next hit. His mouth was open, sweat already dripping off his hairline.
Every muscle in me stiffened to the point of spasm, fingers curling into fists. I wanted to kill him right there and then. Wanted to cut off his dick and burn his fucking balls.
Celine went rigid, stopped dead just inside the door. She gasped. Her hand flew to her mouth.
That was enough for Valmont to snap out of his predatory frenzy. He whipped his head toward the door. Even in this light, I could see that all blood drained from his face. His features shifted into shock. He fumbled with his wilted dick, yanking his pants up to hide it.
"What the hell is going on, Caius?" Celine demanded, surveying the room. Her gaze paused on Kimmy.
"Why are you here?" Valmont asked. He sounded like a scared little kid. "And who is this douchebag?" He gestured at me.
"Are you serious?" Celine asked. "Is this how you spend your free time?"
"Celine? What are—"
"I can't believe I'm seeing this." She was vibrating, every muscle at max tension. "You're an animal," she said. Her voice had lost all the public polish, every bit of it ground down to the bone.
"This is consensual," Valmont said, finally sounding more like himself.
"Is it?"
I didn't have time to watch their squabble. The security was already piling up in the hallway behind us.
I strode across the room in the direction of the chair. Kimmy wasn't moving. I dropped into a crouch and checked her pulse. It was weak and erratic, but it was there.
"You're sick," Celine was shouting at Valmont. "You're fucking sick!"
"Sir—are you alright?" The guard who showed up in the doorway directed the question at Valmont.
I saw it with the corner of my eyes, but I wasn't paying attention. I knew I needed to. But all I could think of was getting Kimmy out of here. I was searching for the key to remove the handcuffs. Luckily, it was on the ottoman.
I snapped the cuffs off, eased Kimmy's wrists free, and lifted her out of the chair.
She weighed almost nothing. There was a moment when her head lolled onto my shoulder and her mouth brushed my collar, leaving a wet, red smear.
The trickle of blood in the corner of her mouth only pissed me off more.
All Father's teachings about keeping my emotions in check evaporated.
The arriving guards quickly positioned themselves in front of the door.
"Nobody leaves," one of them announced, attempting to sound authoritative.
But it was obvious he'd never encountered a situation like this before. His eyes darted around the room, shifting from one person to another, as if he was desperately trying to recall the protocol for handling such a scenario from the job manual.
I started walking. "She needs a doctor," I growled.
"Unless you want to hear from my attorney.
Illegal sex dungeons aren't that popular with the police either, last time I checked.
" I was bullshitting my way out. There was no attorney.
There were no police. Involving the authorities in the matters of the Bureau was almost like treason.
But there was this desperate need to get Kimmy out of this hellhole. And it overpowered all other directives.
"If you take another step, you'll regret it," Valmont spoke behind my back.
I ignored him and inched toward the door.
"I said stop," Valmont demanded.
From the corner of my eye, I saw his wife waving at the guards. "Let them through," she said.
Nobody moved.
I shifted Kimmy in my arms, careful not to let her head flop back. The pendant camera was still at her throat, lens glinting in the half-light. Stupid girl kept it safe.
I made my voice cold and even. "If you don't listen to Mrs. Valmont, you're going to have more trouble than you can handle. This is already a crime scene."
The guard who seemed to be in charge looked at Caius, then at his wife, then at me. A chain of command that was fucked from the start.
Slowly, he stepped aside. Other guards followed.
I carried Kimmy out of the room and through the dark corridor.
"Seven?" I heard her mutter in my arms.
"Don't talk," I husked out. "I'm getting you out of here, Ponytail."
"Hey?" she called.
"You really shouldn't be spe—"
"Blue balloon…is…very…tired, but it got you…awesome footage," she slurred.
Goddamn, woman! Why couldn't she listen to me for once? I dropped my gaze to her face and saw what appeared to be the hint of a smile. Then her features slacked and I realized she'd just lost consciousness.
My heart thudded in my chest wildly.
I stopped just long enough to set Kimmy's jaw in place and make sure she was breathing.
Then I pushed the emergency exit bar with my foot and let the alarms scream us out into the night.
My face was bare.
And I didn't care.
Kimmy's weight in my arms was nothing like I remembered from our few self-defense lessons. She felt like a feather, yet the moment itself was heavier.
We moved through the back alley while the rain was coming down in long, slow needles. It pasted Kimmy's hair to her face, smeared what was left of her makeup into a bruise-colored mask.
There was no one in sight except a single security guard left at the entrance to the club and a homeless guy wrapped in two tarps as I ran to the limo. He watched us with bright, animal eyes, then looked away when I met his gaze.
Inside the car, I set Kimmy on the passenger seat. She slumped to the side and I tried to straighten her up a little. Her eyes flickered open, but didn't focus.
I wasn't sure if she even recognized me or if she understood what was happening.
"I've got you," I muttered, already peeling off my jacket to wrap her in it.
She tried to smile again. It went crooked. There was blood on her teeth when her lips parted slightly.
I checked her face for damage. The swelling above her left eye was getting worse, but it wasn't life-threatening. Other than that, I couldn't see anything but the multitude of bruises and marks on her legs and a few scrapes on her elbow.
I took her hand and checked her pulse again. It had evened out a little.
I climbed behind the wheel, peeled away from the alley, and pinged Viper.
"Did you pick up the package?" he asked, sounding a little worried.
"Yeah," I said. "Can you send a doctor to the safe house?"
There was a pause, then Viper's voice went tight. "Compound doctor?"
"No. Use the alternative. The one we have on contract for outside jobs. Don't want this on the Bureau record."
"You got it."
"Tell him to be discreet."
"Ya think?" Viper made a noise like a tongue click, then hung up. I was surprised he didn't have any offhanded comment for me.
I glanced at Kimmy again as I flew through the intersection.
Every red light made me think of Valmont's hands on her. I gripped the wheel harder, trying to subdue this fury messing with my brain. I didn't even know I was able to conjure such a strong emotion, but I guess there were a lot of things I didn't know about until I met Kimmy.
I don't remember the drive except for the terror that she'd stop breathing between one block and the next.
By the time we reached the safe house, the streets were completely empty. The ride in the elevator seemed like it took forever. The lights inside the loft were too bright. They made everything look worse—every injury on her body.
I took her to the bedroom and laid her down on the bed, then grabbed the first aid kit and got to work—pressure to the cut, ice pack to the swelling, water for her lips.
In the privacy of my mind, I thanked the Bureau for the basic medical training.
I wasn't a doctor, but I knew just enough to keep her stable until the real doctor got here.
When I finished, I took a breath and quietly sat next to her. My hands shook, not from the adrenaline crash. Rage, or maybe grief.
I'd seen women beaten before. This job was dark. It gave me an unrestricted access to the worst of humanity. But I'd never wanted to unmake a man as badly as I wanted to unmake Caius Valmont in that moment.
She stirred, and I felt my heart jump out of my chest.
"Seven?" she murmured.
"I'm here," I said.
There was a long pause, then she smiled. It wasn't a real smile, just the curl in the corner of her lips, but it made me feel weird things as if the world was fixing itself.
Then she whispered, "You're beautiful." She reached up for my face. Her fingers, cold and small, traced the line of my jaw. It was nothing, barely a touch, but it short-circuited things inside me.
"Don't talk," I said. "You're in shock."
"I mean it."
I didn't know how to answer. She watched me, searching for something, and I had no idea what she was hoping to find.
"We did it," she added. "We got what we wanted."
She released my wrist and clutched the pendant at her throat. "I kept it safe."
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
She looked at me for a long time. Then, with a motion so fast I almost missed it, she grabbed my shirt and pulled me close. Her lips met mine, soft and hot and alive, and tasting a little like blood.
The kiss was brief. Not enough time to process. Not enough time to react. But the afterimage burned in my brain, a white-hot echo that didn't fade.
She dropped back onto the pillow and closed her eyes, a trace of a smile still lingering on her mouth.
I stared at her for a long time, trying to control my breathing. I didn't understand what exactly I felt, only that it was new, and raw, and terrible.
I wanted to protect her from the world.
From Valmont.
From Father.
Even from me.