Dark Illusion

by Daniels, A. J.

  “I’m okay, baby,” Kai whispers, curling an arm around my shoulders.

  Antonio

  STEFAN: TARGET LOCATED.

  The text comes in just as we’re waiting for Kai’s discharge papers from the hospital. I struggle between the need to go handle this situation once and for all, and staying with Kai. We decided that it was best for him to move into my condo since we spend most of our nights there anyway. It was also my way of keeping an eye on him.

  “Is that Stefan?” Kai asks, slipping on his shoes.

  “Yeah. They found him.”

  I refused to keep anything from Kai when he woke up so when he asked about what happened to him on the trail, I told him the truth along with the fact that Stefan and Rico were hunting Trick down right now. Kai made me promise that when we found him, I wouldn’t let him go back into the justice system and that I would take care of it. Even after numerous attempts on my part for him to make sure that’s what he really wanted, he insisted and said he can’t sleep at night knowing there’s someone like Trick out roaming the streets. I didn’t tell him in so many words, but I agree with him.

  “Go,” Kai says, pressing a kiss to my lips. “I have Alessandro, and Dane, Craig, and Sean are here. I’ll be fine.”

  At the mention of Sean, I growl and pull him closer, kissing him harder, and then nip my way down to his neck and make sure I leave my mark. Kai moans, making my dick perk up, before we can think about taking it any further, a throat clears from the doorway.

  “You’re all set to go, Mr. Black,” the nurse says, a blush creeping up her cheeks at having caught us in a lip lock. She turns to leave after placing the papers on the foot of the bed.

  “I’ll be fine,” Kai reassures me. “Go and finish this so you can come home to me.” He wraps his arms around my waist and rests his head on my chest.

  “Amo solo te.” I love only you. I say, placing a kiss on the top of his head.

  “I love you too.”

  My phone pings with another text and I don’t have to look at it to know Stefan just messaged me the address where they’re holding Trick. With one more kiss to Kai’s lips and a murderous look at Sean on my way out of the hospital, I slip into my Jag and head for the abandoned warehouse. My adrenaline already pumping at the prospect of the monster being able to sate its bloodlust.

  ***

  There’s one thing about all of us higher ups in the Famiglia, we all have our preferred methods of torture. Braxton goes for his machete every single time and has a weird obsession with electrocution and cutting off a man’s genitals, although never on the same victim. Alessandro… he doesn’t mess around and prefers a clean bullet between the eyes. Stefan, on the other hand, gets some sick joy out of bleeding them dry while they’re still alive.

  As for me? I like to think I’m a good mix of all three, depending on what type of mood I’m in. Like tonight for instance, I’m not in the mood to end this quickly and painlessly, so a bullet to the head is out. So is the machete because it bleeds them too fast, but I have a new set of pliers that are just wanting to be used, as well as some other new toys.

  “I was wondering when you were going to show up,” Trick sneers from where he’s bound to a chair in the middle of the dark, abandoned warehouse. A single light flickers just above his head. “Tell me, Antonio,” he drawls in a Portuguese accent, “how does it feel knowing you got my sloppy seconds?”

  A right hook to the face shuts him momentarily but then he’s right back to trying to lure me into a conversation. I refuse to give him the satisfaction as I approach the metal cart Stefan and Rico had brought in with them and open the bag sitting atop it. My brand-new pliers are the first thing I see when the zipper gives way. I give the slightest nod to Stefan while my fingers brush over the untouched metal.

  The shuffling sounds behind me lets me know that Trick is trying to move out of Stefan’s hold, but he’ll fail. He isn’t going anywhere while his wrists and ankles are bound tightly to the chair with coarse rope, and the more he struggles, the more the rope will cut into his skin.

  Breathing in deeply, my fingers wrap around the new tool, and when I feel like I have a solid hold on the monster, I turn around, making my way over to Trick with the pliers in hand. Stefan holds down his right hand as still as he can while I approach and grip his ring finger between the jaws of the tool. I squeeze the handle until I hear the satisfying crunch of bone. Trick screams, throwing his head back, but I don’t stop at just one. Moving to his middle finger I repeat the process. Several drops of spittle land on my cheek as Trick curses me out, but I simply wipe them away with the sleeve of my coveralls and move to the next finger. When all five of his fingers on his right hand are crushed beyond repair, I move back and switch out the pliers for the cigar cutters.

  When Stefan moves to his other hand, Trick begins rocking his chair side to side in an effort to move away from the big man. Stefan grins sadistically, probably taking perverse pleasure in seeing the son of a bitch struggle to get away, before slamming his hand down on Trick’s arm, forcing him to keep still while I begin with his pinky this time. Placing the cigar cutter between his second and third knuckle, I force it closed. With surprisingly relative ease, it cuts through the flesh and bone like butter. Trick’s finger falls to the cement ground and rolls under his chair.

  “Fuck you,” Trick grits out between his teeth.

  Ignoring him, I move onto his middle finger, skipping his ring finger this time. Deciding to only cut off every other one on his left hand. Although, if he keeps baiting me into speaking to him and continues to piss me off more than he already has, I may decide to just cut off the remaining two fingers. This creep thrives on verbal attacks, and the more his victims argue and fight back with their words, the more he’s able to fuck them up psychologically. By refusing to acknowledge his ramblings and remaining silent, I’m failing to give him what he craves. He may realize he’s getting nowhere with me and stop, or it may drive him insane. Either way, I don’t give a flying fuck because he’s not leaving that chair alive.

  When I have successfully cut off his thumb, Stefan releases Trick’s hand and reaches for the extra piece of rope on the metal cart. Wrapping the ends of the rope around using his own glove-covered hands, Stefan snaps it making sure the rope will hold up against what we have planned next. With the ends still wrapped around his hands, he lifts the middle part over Trick’s head until it’s resting just below his collarbone and pulls it back, forcing Trick to sit up straighter in the chair.

  Taking a pair of scissors, I cut a straight line down from the collar of his t-shirt to the hem, until it falls away. Then I replace the hand scissors with a large Kiridashi knife from a wood carving kit. Trick’s eyes widen at the sight of the blade and despite Stefan holding him up and back with the rope, he still tries in vain to move away from the inevitable.

  This is usually where I say something like, “You shouldn’t have messed with my family,” but I won’t. Not this time. I do, however, begin carving diagonal lines across his chest of varying sizes and depths. With each cut, Trick’s screams escalate. So much so, I have to stop what I’m doing and shove a wad of fabric in his mouth to muffle him before continuing my work.

  Oh, and what a piece of work it is. The BTK Strangler has nothing on me. Even if he was an infamous serial killer in the 70’s, 80’s, and 90’s. Even though the thought of me turning into him is terrifying, I push it away for now and continue carving lines into Trick’s chest, down his thighs still covered by his pants, and down his calves as well. When I think I’m satisfied with my work, I give Stefan a clipped nod and he removes the rope holding Trick up.

  Trick slumps forward, tears and snot streaming down his face. “Please, just finish me already,” he begs, but I’m far from done.

  Stefan takes the wood carving knife from my hand, replacing it with a syringe. Now the real test begins.

  “What the fuck is that?” Trick questions, but he’s no longer trying to move away from me. “Fuck! Look, A
ntonio, I’m sorry. Shit. Fuck, I’m so sorry. I’ll leave Kai alone. I’ll even leave town, the country, the continent even. You name it. I’m gone.” He curses when I stab the needle through his thigh and inject the contents.

  It takes less time than I thought for the extremely high dose of blood thinners to work its magic and soon every knife wound I carved into his skin begins to bleed profusely, including his hand where his fingers are missing and his gums.

  “Fuck make it stop. Please,” Trick cries, as his once blue jeans turn dark until there’s no sign they were ever blue to begin with.

  Trick’s head begins to drop forward and sway side to side a bit, his eyelids lowering as he continues losing blood. Rivers of red running out the side of his mouth.

  “Remind me never to piss you off,” Stefan comments from beside me as we watch the life slowly leave Trick’s body. Eventually, he slumps forward, his head hanging down between his pecs. And it’s over.

  “Get the crew in here and make sure the body is never found,” I instruct Stefan, snapping off my gloves and stepping out of the coveralls. I shove them into a big, black garbage bag on my way out the door and into the sunshine.

  ***

  “Is it done?” Kai questions the second I walk through the door of our condo.

  ‘It is,” I reply, hooking a finger in his belt loop and pulling him into my arms. “You never have to worry about him again.”

  “Thank you,” he says, his lips brushing against the skin of my neck. His entire body relaxes with the knowledge that Trick will never again be able to hurt him, or another boy, ever again.

  Antonio

  “SO, BRAXTON WASN’T the heartless bastard you thought he was, huh?” Siobhan says, a playful smirk on her lips as the waitress brings us our drinks. Ever since our come-to-Jesus moment, and me saving her from Damien, we’ve been able to grow closer as friends.

  Kai thought it was a good idea for the two of us to meet up for dinner and clear the air for good. He’s afraid that she might still harbor ill feelings toward him. Even though I had already told him Siobhan and I had come to an understanding before, he still insisted. After all, if it wasn’t for the little nudge she gave me in the hospital waiting room, I may have lost the man I love for good.

  “You should be the one to talk.”

  “Oh, please. I knew there was no way the Don of the mafia would kill his longtime friend. The two of you are practically brothers.”

  We lock eyes over the rims of our drinks. Hers, the most expensive wine on the menu – naturally, and my own, a Macallan 18 scotch.

  “Even so, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t do to me what his father and mine did to their associate, who also happened to be a longtime friend of theirs.”

  Siobhan sighs, placing her drink back on the table between us. “Toni, did you ever wonder why your fathers did what they did? I mean, maybe it’s not as simple as you’re making it out to be? Talk to Braxton,” she nudges.

  “I did.”

  “And?”

  “There was more to it,” I say, picking up my menu once again when our waitress comes back to take our order.

  “Well, what was it?” Siobhan pushes when the waitress leaves.

  “Says he can’t say.”

  “Do you believe that there was more to it?” She pushes.

  “I don’t know.”

  “What are you going to do, Antonio?”

  “Nothing. Right now, I’m going to enjoy dinner with a friend and then I’m going to go home to the man I love and show him exactly how much.”

  “Wow,” she chuckles, leaning back in her seat. The low lights of the restaurants reflect off her diamond earrings.

  “What?”

  “I never thought I’d see the day when Antonio Moretti was so smitten.”

  I grin, lifting my drink up in a toast. Once we’ve both taken a drink from our respective glasses, I clear my throat and try to brace for the upcoming conversation. Kai’s the one who’s good at having the feelings talk. Me? I’d rather go out for a few drinks, get drunk until we can’t remember why we were fighting in the first place and call it a night, or fight it out.

  “Siobhan,” I start, then stop when she rolls her eyes.

  “Oh God.” She sighs, placing her drink down on the table between us then settling back into her seat.

  “What?”

  “Alright, let’s hear it.” She motions for me to continue.

  “Hear what?”

  “The reason why you called and invited me to dinner. The apology you’ve been working up to for months.”

  “Siobhan…”

  “Antonio,” she says, cutting me off, “I’m just going to stop you before you get going. Look, we both have a lot to apologize for. We used each other when we shouldn’t have and whatever was happening between us should have ended a helluva long time before you left for Belize. But it’s in the past, and I for one, would still like to continue being friends. That is if Kai’s okay with it.”

  “It, ah, was actually his idea for us to have dinner tonight. He wanted me to let you know he’s grateful for what you did at the hospital.”

  Siobhan grins. “I was just helping a friend not make the same mistake.” She leans forward, gripping my hand in hers. “So, are we good?”

  “We’re good,” I say, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze before withdrawing when the waitress places our food down in front of us.

  ***

  Kai

  “No,” Toni says shaking his head, refusing to hear any more of what I have to say.

  “Toni- “

  “No, Kai. I’m not taking you to the club. Not binding your wrists. I’m not putting you through what that asshole did to you,” he growls, and if Trick wasn’t six feet under, I fear Toni would be hunting him down to put him there… again.

  “Baby,” I say, framing his face in my hands. “You could never hurt me the way he did. What we do at the club is different than what he did when he took me. You’re not a sadistic asshole. I trust you, Antonio. I trust you to know how far to go. Trust me to let you know when I’m at my limit.”

  When he still doesn’t relent, I turn on the puppy dog eyes and push out my bottom lip in a pout, taking a page out of Lily’s book. “Please.”

  Toni curses, grabbing my hand and I try to hide the grin threatening to split my face as he leads us to the entrance of Club Nineveh. This isn’t the first time I’ve been to the club, but it amazes me each time I walk through the doors, that Toni had a hand in bringing it to life.

  His grip tightens around my hand as he leads us to one of the bars on the far side. It’s a little unnerving when I notice numerous heads turning to look in our direction. Their eyes darting down to our clasped hands and back up to do a double take that it is in fact Antonio Moretti here with a man. It’s like they’ve never seen a same-sex couple before. I want to yell and tell them to take a picture since it lasts longer, but that seems a bit cliché. Instead, I stop, pulling Toni into my arms and kiss him, and not just a peck either. No, it’s a full I-need-you-right-now kiss.

  When I pull back, Toni’s eyes are glazed over but there’s a questioning look in them.

  “Let’s skip the drink,” I say by way of explanation.

  Without needing to be told twice, he brings us toward the back, and down a darkened hallway. When we reach the end, he leads us into a private room, closing and locking the door before instructing me to strip… slowly. And fuck if I do. Even if there isn’t any music playing, the rhythm in my head will work just fine.

  Toni groans when I step out of my jeans and he finally gets a look at what I’ve been hiding in my pants all night.

  “Did you wear these just for me?” He asks, running a finger along the jock strap.

  “You like?”

  He lets out a harsh breath when I run my palm up and down the growing bulge in his pants.

  “Baby, I more than like. Keep those on.”

  Toni leads me to a weird looking bench that sits just below
hip height. It’s perfect for being bent over. “I’m not going to strap you down but try not to move,” he says, turning me around to face the bench and with a nudge, encourages me to bend over until my front is resting on the leather.

  “You have a beautiful ass, Kai.” His breath is warm against the skin of my lower back. His hands roam over the globes of my rear, his fingers digging into the skin, making me moan. ‘’It makes me painfully hard seeing you bent over like this for me… in my club.”

  I jump when his tongue snakes out to lick up from my balls to my hole. The tip sliding in slightly before withdrawing. Toni places little nips over my cheeks while his hand plays with my balls, yet avoids my shaft. If he doesn’t touch me there soon I’m going to riot. As though he heard my thoughts, I feel him stand up and lean over me to speak in my ear. His hard cock sliding between the cheeks of my ass.

  “I’m going to fuck you now, Kai, and you’re not going to come. If you come I’ll put a cage on you and you won’t get any relief for twenty-four hours while I rile you up again.”

  I groan, willing my aching dick to stand down when Toni slides in one finger, then two and scissors them to get me ready for him. No way in hell do I want to walk around with a cock cage on for a full day.

  I grit my teeth and whimper when the head of his cock slides in past the tight ring of muscle, all the while chanting not to cum in my head. Jesus fuck, I’m so full, and when his length brushes against my prostate, I buck up into him, making him groan.

  “Toni. Fuck, please,” I beg, my words not making sense, but I don’t care. He feels so good inside me that I almost feel guilty for wanting him to come fast, but I’m seconds away from coming myself.

  Toni’s thrusts speed up as his arms curl under my shoulders. He holds onto me while he ruts up into me, coming with a roar. His teeth sink into the curve of my shoulder as he fucks out the last of his orgasm, but it just serves to draw a desperate whimper from my lips.