by Dani René
“Open your legs.” My order is clear when I release her and step back. I pull the chair closer to the bed and settle on the seat. She’s still frozen in place, and I know she’s in shock that I’m not hurting her.
“I . . . I—”
“I said open your fucking legs,” I grit out through clenched teeth. When she finally obeys, I smile, noticing her smooth-shaven little cunt. She trembles before me, and it only makes me harder. “Spread them wider,” I order, and she silently submits to me. I wonder then if she’s only doing it because I’m not hurting her or trying to shove my cock in her tiny hole. “You’re a good girl.” I smile. “Now finger yourself.”
Her pouty lips part on a soft gasp that makes me throb behind my zipper. Tentatively, she moves her hand between her legs, but she doesn’t do anything further. I wonder if she’s ever done it. Surely, she’s not that innocent.
“You’ve never touched yourself?”
She shakes her head, her cheeks darkening as she watches me. Her sweet innocence is similar to that of Caia's. She may be scared, but she’s not a doormat. I love fire in a girl, her fight, and that stubbornness that only makes me harder every time I taunt her.
“Do it,” I insist, nudging my chin toward her. “Put your index finger inside. Feel your warmth.” My eyes are glued to the juncture between her thighs. Her toes curl into the mattress when her digit disappears inside her tight core.
A soft whimper falls from her lips, and my cock jolts with the need to take her, but I don’t. I never can. She continues to finger herself while I palm my dick, watching the way her eyelashes flutter on the apples of her cheeks.
“Stop.” My command has her gaze snapping to mine, her hand frozen between her legs. “I’m not a nice man.”
She nods. “I know.”
“How do you know that, pet?”
She’s silent for a long while, her eyes never straying from mine. Her lips part, and I expect an answer, but all she does is inhale a deep breath, then let it out before shutting her mouth.
“Take your fingers and lick your juices off,” I tell her.
Quietly, she complies, and the sight has me groaning. She moves to close her legs, but I shake my head.
“Do you want to go home?” My question has her pretty brown eyes lighting up. She nods, a small smile playing on her full lips. “Do you want to go see your mommy and daddy?”
“Fuck you,” she bites back when I taunt her. “I hate you.”
Rising, I button my suit jacket, take a step, and lean over her. Fisting her strands, I tug her closer, pulling her against me. She attempts to get free, but I’m far too strong.
“I like when you fight. It makes my dick hard,” I smirk. She stills, her gaze burning into me, and all I see is Caia. Leaning in, I run my lips along her wet cheek, my tongue darting out to lick her tears. The salty liquid igniting a primal need deep within me, and I know if I don’t walk out of this room now, I’ll fuck her. I’ll hurt her. I’ve always taken women who remind me of the one woman who made me love. As much as I want to offer love, I can’t.
Cold settles in my veins, reminding me that I’m not him. I’m not the monster I grew up with. I can be better. I can be more than the asshole who fucked up so many lives.
Shoving her away from me onto the mattress, I turn and stalk toward the door. In the hallway, I lean against the wall and breathe through the desire to maim. Sighing, I make my way up to my bedroom. My mind is still on the girl when I find River asleep on the bed. His form is relaxed, and the comfort of his soft breaths calms me somewhat. There are times I wonder how you can stay so loyal to a person when they can never offer you what you need.
Tomorrow, I’ll start my reign of destruction, and soon enough, I’ll free Dante and River from this life. And hopefully, I’ll save myself in the process.
I settle beside him in the silence. I want to reach for him, to feel him in my arms, but I don't. I shove my feelings deep down so nobody can find them. Not even me.
When I first realized how I felt about River, I was scared. There wasn’t anything I could do anyway. No relationship would’ve been enough to apologize for the life he’d been forced into. So, I pushed him away.
There was only one thing I could give him. One way of saying sorry for all the years of pain. Staring up at the ceiling, I recall the moment we freed ourselves from Malcolm’s grip.
The room where my father has been lying in bed for the past few months stinks of death. Over the past six months, I’ve been slipping poison in his food. I’ve spent my life learning how to kill him. I wanted to make sure he suffered with every breath he took, and now as I stare at the withering body of the man who was once formidable, I realize my work is done.
“You were always stronger than your brother,” he croaks when I near him. His hands are wrinkled, the skin pallid. His hair has grayed and has mostly fallen out. The balding old man is no longer scary. He’s scared.
“I was stronger than you.”
“You are certainly more intelligent than I gave you credit for, Drake.” He attempts to laugh, but the wheeze on his chest makes it sound like he’s about to die any second. “This life was something I didn’t want.”
“You could’ve fooled me.”
“Drake, there is always more to what you see on the surface,” he informs me, lifting a shaky hand toward me.
I don’t move, and he lowers his reach. “I don’t need a lecture from you today, Malcolm,” I tell him. “It’s time you left us forever.”
“You can never take back what you do today, son.”
“I don’t ever want to take this back. I never want to forget when I see the light flicker from your eyes. I’ll remember it for the rest of my life.” Finally closing the distance between me and the bed, I look at Malcolm Savage. Seeing him alive for the last time is something I’ve waited for since the moment I learned who my father was.
The door behind me creaks open, and their footsteps near me. The two men who will stand beside me as we do this. Dante leans in, his face close to our father's. I’m not sure what he’s about to do, then he lifts his hand, twisting the kitchen knife my father enjoyed using when he tortured someone.
“Goodbye, Daddy Dearest.” His grin is manic when he pushes the tip of the knife into Malcolm’s left eye, causing blood to spurt from the wound. He twists it around as the old man cries out in agony.
Next, River reaches for his other eye, holding it open so he can’t blink. “This is for me, for the two men I love, and for all those who came before and after us.” He tilts the small, amber glass bottle and drips out three clear drops of acid, which only makes my father’s groans of agony echo around us.
His mutilated face makes me smile. If only Caia were still here, still alive to witness the scene before me. I would’ve bent her over this bed and fucked her into oblivion while my father died.
Dante and River step back as I take the rope and tie it around his neck, ensuring the knot is tight, I tug on the leash-like twine and drag his body off the bed. Only when I reach the door do I feel it. The sag. No more fight, no more life.
Malcolm Savage is dead.
3
Drake
I hid in the shadows of the corner watching them sleep.
The man who worked for my father for over ten years lies peaceful beside his vicious wife. Both of them sick, vile monsters who will soon pay for their sins. I like being the reaper. The man who takes lives as I see fit.
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t kill innocent people. No. I extinguish the lives of those who have done wrong. With the list of contacts I’ve made, there is no escape from me and my team. Alongside my best friend, River, each one that has been jotted down will be paid a visit. The numerous, well-known names who prey on the weak, the young, and the desperate.
“Ready.”
River’s voice in the earpiece clipped to my head cuts through my thoughts. Two men enter, and I watch from the corner as they bind the two struggling bodies to their four-poster bed.
“Who are you?” The man’s tone is heavy with sleep, but low and gravelly, reminding me of the first time I saw him.
He and his wife have a penchant for young boys. Something my father offered them freely in the bowels of the Savage Mansion.
“Please, don’t hurt us.” The wife’s voice comes out raspy, fear dripping from every word. My team flicks on the lights, and I finally step forward. I don’t cover my face. I don’t wear a mask, because my childhood was spent covering up my real emotions. Their eyes widen in shock when they see me.
“Drake? What are you doing here, boy?” The words uttered in confusion. Boy. If only they knew I’m no longer a young, scared child. This time, I’m the one who will ensure they feel the dread I did for so long. Each time they visited my father’s mansion. Every time the asshole choked me with his filthy, old cock.
Lifting my hand, I pull the syringe from my pocket.
“Mr. Walsh, it’s so good to see you.” The venom in my voice is enough to chill the whole fucking room. And it does. The two men who are here to aid me hold down the man, his body wriggling as he tries to get away, but he can’t.
I smile down at his terrified face and press the needle into the soft skin below his eye socket. The clear, acidic poison dripping from the metal tip wrenches a scream from his throat so loud and piercing, his wife flinches from the sound alone.
“Please, Drake. Your father—” Her voice grates on my nerves.
“My father is dead,” I bite out with satisfaction. I’ll never tire from saying that. “Make her watch,” I instruct one of the men, who turns Mrs. Walsh’s head toward her husband, whose face is liquefying. Her screams are beautiful. Music to my ears.
“Please, please, no, no,” she pleads.
“I used to say that to you, to him,” I tell her, gesturing with my chin toward the asshole who’s gulping the last few breaths of his life. His body convulsing as his flesh bubbles. My body tingles with excitement. Tonight, I’ll head out and find a beautiful woman to fuck. I’ll slide into a tight hole, warm and wet, and I’ll spill my seed inside her thinking about how beautiful the scene before me is.
“Listen to me. We can fix this, Drake. You and Dante—”
“Shut the fuck up!” My voice booms through the room, bouncing off the walls, causing the old bitch to cringe, cowering against the headboard. “Can you imagine how it feels to be a young boy, scared shitless when two people visit his home?” I rage, losing the control I’d held onto until she mentioned my brother’s name.
I’m at her side in seconds, my hand gripping her frail throat. I never pictured myself killing a woman, but right now, I don’t care.
“Drake,” my name on River’s tongue comes from behind me, stalling me for a moment. “You don’t have to do that. We have the team here.”
He doesn’t come near me. He knows when I’m like this I need to come down by myself. I’ll never hurt him, but when I snap, all I see is red.
“She’s not worth it,” he tells me.
Shaking my head, I blink, and I realize I’m crying. The agony gripping my chest is painful, breath-stealing.
“You have a choice right now, Drake.” He’s right. I do have a choice. A split-second decision causes me to reach for my knife and plunge it into her throat, trailing it along the wrinkled skin. Blood spurts from her body as the light in her eyes flickers and dies. “Jesus.”
I turn to my best friend. My partner. And the boy who suffered alongside me all those years. When Dante left for London, I told River to go with him. They were friends, and I knew if anyone would look after my brother, it would be the man I gave everything to.
Turning, I use the bedsheets to wipe the blade before heading out the door. The soft footfalls of River sound behind me, but he doesn’t say anything. My body is still vibrating from the rage, exhilaration, and utter astonishment of making the kill. Some people tire of doing the same thing each time. I, on the other hand, love it.
With each kill, every life I take, I revel in it. Maybe that’s what makes me crazy, fucked-up, and that’s okay. I’ve learned to live with it. I’ll never admit or deny it. I’ve come to terms with it.
“I need to get some pussy tonight, some chick to use for the evening. You joining me?” I question my best friend as we descend the stairs. River’s gaze burns into me, and I know he’s not happy with the way I handled that. We were meant to keep her alive, but anger got the better of me.
“Yeah, you know I will.”
His response is clear. The unhappiness of what I did is heavy in his tone. This was my mistake, but it’s over, and I learned a long while ago, once something’s been done, there’s no going back.
The night is cold, the moon hanging in the inky sky reminding me of the light River brings to me and my life. He’s the only one I’ve let inside. He’s seen me at my weakest.
“Do you still look for her each time we go out?” The question comes from River, causing me to snap my gaze to his. “Caia Amoretto is dead.”
“Don’t you think I know that?”
“Then what’s up your ass, man?” He sounds tentative because he knows he’s walking on thin ice tonight. My mood is sour enough right now. This morning, Walsh’s supplier dropped another shipment at the compound, and this is the only reason I decided to pay them a visit. This has got to fucking stop. And it’s up to me to finally end it.
But that’s not the only reason I’m pissed, and he knows it. The reminder that I’ve still not found Caia, or even learned if she’s dead or not, plagues my mind constantly. However, there’s one tiny thing that’s been bothering me for some time, and I haven’t told River or Dante about it. I know I should, but if it’s not true, I may just upset them even more.
Something niggles at my mind, the night our father was murdered by the three of us, I learned a secret I’ve kept from them both. And I know soon I’ll have to come clean.
“There’s nothing wrong. Let’s just get out of here.” Sighing, I swing the car door open, slipping into the driver’s seat without answering, because I don’t know what else to say right now.
“Drake,” River starts, and I have a feeling I know what he’s going to say. But I stay silent and wait for it. “If we’re going to do this, you need to keep your mind on the list.”
I made a list when my father died. Names of men who need to suffer for what they’ve done. Each name will be crossed off as we take them down. I don’t care if they’ve got families, businesses, I’ll fucking rule over them. I’ll be the one in charge.
“I know what I have to do,” I respond without looking at my best friend. I can feel his eyes on me, boring into me, attempting to find out everything I’m hiding from him, and he knows I’m keeping secrets. If there’s one thing I know about River, it’s that he can see right through me. He knows exactly when I’m lying.
Shaking the thought from my mind, I weave through the darkened streets, back to the Savage compound where I have at least fifteen girls that were meant to appease my father’s clients.
I should free them.
I know I should do the right thing.
But if I do, I’ll lose the key to unlock the secret my father kept from me and my brother. I cast a quick glance at River who’s seated beside me and wonder if this is the moment I should confess. If I should tell him I know where his family is. Well, not his whole family, just his mother.
I know if I do, he’ll never forgive me. If what I found in my father’s safe is the truth, I don’t know if my best friend will ever find it in his heart to love someone with the Savage name again. Not after the lies he’s been fed all his life by Malcolm Savage.
I pull up to the ornate wrought-iron gates. I haven’t thought about what I’ve just done. Killed someone. I know my team will do a clean-up of the house, and I’ll be having a drink by the time the police find the bodies washed up on the shore. But somewhere deep-down, guilt still festers. Even though they deserved it, I now have more blood on my hands. Soon, I’ll be stained wit
h the metallic liquid, and I’ll never be able to cleanse myself of it again.
“You know, we could just go to the house and get some rest,” River suggests. “And you—”
“Would you cut the shit, River?” I snap, frustrated at his insistence. “Look, I don’t need anything else right now. We’ll call over a pretty blonde from the place we always get them from, pay the fee for the night, and send her packing when we’re done.” I groan as I park the car. “Tonight, while she’s sucking your cock clean after you’ve fucked me, I’ll ram her tight little cunt. Is that so difficult for you to understand?”
His chuckle lightens the tension between us, and I exit the car without waiting for his response. I went overboard tonight. I love control. Usually, I’m calm, but those two monsters needed to pay for what they did to River, Dante, and me. I feel like it’s an evening for a celebration. My best friend joins me as we head into the mansion.
“I’m sorry,” I find myself uttering before I have time to rethink it. River’s been there for me through everything. He’s stayed by my side even though he’s seen what my family has done. I know it’s because he’s got nowhere else to go, but when my father died, I gave him an out. I told him to leave. He refused, telling me he was staying beside me until this is done.
He’s supported me when I asked him for things no friend should do for another. And even through our difficult path, we’ve still found friendship, and he’s given me a love I can’t return. Even though he knows I can’t, it doesn’t stop him from telling me how he feels.
The dungeon is lit in the familiar yellow glow. My body aches. I’ve been bound to the bench. I’m bent at the waist. My hands are fastened with thick twine holding me in place. I can’t think because they’ve drugged me or something. I’m not sure, but I know this isn’t over.
“Drake.” I hear my name, but I don’t open my eyes. I’m hallucinating, and if I do glance up and he’s not there, I’ll feel the agony of my heart breaking once more. I can’t allow him to see me like this. “Drake. Open your eyes,” River’s voice comes again.
