by Sky Winters
"There's the boss man," he said. "What's the story, chief?"
A confused look flashed on Damien's face.
"Hoping you boys could tell me," he said. "I got a text on the emergency line telling me to meet here. So, who's the asshole who called this meeting?"
The men looked at one another with confused expressions on their faces.
"Wait a minute," said Smith. "Are you saying you didn't call this thing?"
Damien's stomach tightened into a hard knot. He knew something was seriously amiss.
"Just what the fuck is going on here?" he asked out loud, his voice taking on a hard tone.
He was angry and getting more pissed off by the second. Something was seriously wrong, and he wanted to crack some skulls until he got to the bottom of it.
Before he could fume for too long, however, another call came in on his phone. It was from the same number it'd been from before. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he answered it and turned away from the group.
"Who the fuck is this?" he demanded, his anger now nearly at a boiling point.
"Just an old friend," spoke a familiar voice.
"Miller," hissed Damien. "What do you want, you miserable fuck? What the fuck is going on?"
"Temper, temper," he said, his voice even and calm, not to mention a little cocky. "If we're gonna talk, then you're gonna need to calm down a little, my friend."
"Tell me what you want, right now."
"Always ready to cut to the chase," said Miller. "Now, if you're as good of a boy scout as I know you are, then you've got your laptop with you, right? Go ahead and open the bad boy up and check your email. I think you'll have most of your questions answered. Go on."
Damien slammed the phone down onto the nearby table and pulled his laptop out of his messenger bag.
"What's going on?" asked Smith.
Damien was so angry that all he could do was hold up a hand, a gesture that said: "Not another word."
He picked his phone back up and held it to his ear as the computer booted up.
"Give me a little holler when you're looking at it," said Miller.
Damien pulled open his laptop and saw that there was a new email from an unknown address, and that the email had an attachment. He opened it up, and when he saw just what the attachment was, he nearly flew into a rage like he'd never before done in his life.
It was a picture of Adeline and Ingrid, each of them tied to chairs, their mouths bound with cloth. Both of their faces were in expressions of horror and fear, and tears streamed down their cheeks.
Before he could look for too long at the email, however, it automatically deleted.
"Not gonna give you the chance to trace that," said Miller. "But I think you get the picture."
"Listen, you worthless piece of shit," snarled Damien, his rage boiling inside. "You let them go now, and I'll only rip you apart limb from limb."
But Miller only laughed.
"That's not how this is going to go down, I'm afraid. Do you need me to send you the email again? I've got all the cards here."
"Then tell me what the fuck you want."
"Something very, very simple for you. Just need you to sign a couple of documents. That's all."
"Where?"
"Address is coming to your phone. But write it down if you need to – that's also gonna automatically delete. Come at the appointed time. And come alone. I get the hint that there's any funny business, you're not gonna like what happens after that."
Then the phone went dead.
"Boss!" asked Anders. "What's going on?"
Damien took a long, slow breath. His animal was on the verge of breaking free, and he knew that even though he wanted nothing more than to kill, kill, and kill some more, he needed to do his best to keep a cool head. His rage would only get him in trouble.
When he was ready, he turned to his men and told them what the situation was. Once the men calmed down, Smith spoke up.
"Then what's the plan?" asked Smith. "We're not gonna let this asshole get away with this, right?"
A smirk formed on Damien's lips.
"Not a goddamn chance."
CHAPTER 7
Ingrid struggled against her restraints, but to no avail. She was tied down tight, and she knew there was no chance she'd be able to break out of this place, and even if she could, what good would it do? Adeline was tied up somewhere in another room, and there was no way she'd leave without her. She had no choice but to hope Damien would do whatever it was Miller wanted and that Miller would hold up to his end of the bargain and let them free. But Miller had "untrustworthy" written all over him, and nothing he did put Ingrid at ease in the slightest.
She looked around the dingy warehouse room, her eyes fixed on the tiny window in the upper part of the wall, the small rectangle of night visible outside of it her only connection to the outside world. Fear boiled in Ingrid's stomach as she remembered she was pregnant. It was still such surprising news to her, and she hadn't yet made space in her mind for the fact that she was going to be a mother. And that was looking like a big "if" at this point – Miller had no idea that he'd actually kidnapped three people instead of two.
After a time, the lock on the door unbolted and two of Miller's men stepped into the room. They looked over Ingrid with sinister smiles before approaching her. Ingrid struggled against her restraints, fearing the worst. But the men only undid them and pulled her to her feet.
"Time for the main event," said one of the men. "So, calm the fuck down; Miller doesn't like dealing with whiny women."
The men led Ingrid to the main warehouse floor, where Miller and the rest of his gang awaited them. As did Adeline, who was there but still tied to her chair. The girl's eyes went wide as she saw Ingrid, and Ingrid's heart ached at the sight of the poor girl.
"There she is," said Miller, clasping his hands together. "Now, I'm gonna le-"
"Let me the fuck go!" demanded Ingrid. "Let both of us go!"
Miller winced and held up a hand.
"What I was going to say was, if you can keep the fucking yelling down to a minimum, I'll keep the restraint off your mouth. But if you insist on whining and complaining, then I'm gonna have to tie you down like this darling little lady here."
Ingrid realized she had no options. And being tied back down with a dirty cloth shoved into her mouth was the last thing she wanted.
"Fine," said Ingrid.
"Atta girl," said Miller.
Then he gestured for the men to bring Ingrid to his side.
"Then can you at least tell me what's going on?" asked Ingrid. "Why have you done this?"
Miller had a look on his face that seemed to indicate he was considering her question.
"Fine," he said. "I suppose it doesn't matter all that much at this point. Damien's on his way, and once I get what I need out of him, this'll all be over and done with."
Miller sat back on a nearby table and spoke.
"This is a business matter, I'm afraid. And one that your ass got all sorts of mixed-up in. See, Damien's little crew is my main competition in this town, and there's nothing more that I'd like to see than him out of the picture."
"Wait," said Ingrid. "Does that mean you were behind that attack? The one that nearly got Damien and me killed?"
Miller smiled, as if recalling a fond memory.
"Yeah, that was me all right, but get over yourself – you just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. The goal there was to kill Damien, and you probably would've just been sent on your way – after those boys had their fun with you, that is. But if there's one lesson I've had to learn the hard way, it's don't skimp on the goddamn help. I hired some low-rent shifter thugs out of Baltimore for that one and, well, you get what the fuck you pay for.
"Anyway," he continued, his thugs watching him speak, all with the same smart-ass smirks on their faces, "I figured our boy Damien's just too tough to take out like that, unless I want to start a full-on war with one of the best mercenary gang
s in the city. So, I figured something else might be in order. And lucky for me, underhanded shit is my specialty."
"So that's what this is all about?" asked Ingrid. "Just taking out the competition? All of this just to make more money?"
"Honey, there's far more to it than that," he said. "You saw those senators that I've been getting cozy with? They're all eager to enlist my services for all sorts of cloak-and-dagger shit they've got in mind. Damien, on the other hand, is a fuckin' boy scout. Only above-the-board jobs for him. But once he's out of the picture, then I can not only make my crew the top outfit in the city, but I can make even more money doing the kind of, ah, wetwork that some of these sketchy congressmen are into. You know, the ‘rubbing out the competition' sort of shit. We tried it a little while back, but that fuckin' Damien."
He shook his head.
"Just too good at holding us off. So, that's why I'm gonna get him to come here, alone, and sign a few little contracts that forbid him from working on the east coast ever again. The way I see it, my crew can become the top outfit from DC to New York. And you and Damien can piss off for all I care. Unless you make me mad."
"But…" stammered Ingrid. "You can't keep us here! You have to call this all off!"
Miller raised his eyebrows.
"And why would I do that?"
"Because…I'm pregnant!"
Ingrid didn't know why she said anything. She thought that maybe revealing this information would appeal to whatever kindness remained in this man.
Instead, his eyes widened, and he slapped his hands together.
"Really?" he said. "Hot damn! Wait until Damien learns about this! He'll be begging me to sign that fucking contract."
The rest of the men chuckled.
Oh fuck, thought Ingrid. I think I just made things worse.
But before she could consider the matter for too much longer, one of the men posted outside entered the warehouse at a brisk trot.
"Boss," he shouted. "He's here!"
"Then what the fuck are you waiting for? Send his ass in!"
The man nodded and left. Ingrid was so excited to see Damien she wanted to cry. She looked over at Adeline, who was still sobbing quietly. Ingrid, not caring what Miller had to say about it, reached over and took the girl's hand. Adeline squeezed back hard.
"Aw, ain't that sweet," said Miller.
Then, Damien entered, two of Miller's men at his sides.
"Damien!" shouted Ingrid.
"Girls!" he shouted back.
"Ah, ah, ah," said Miller, wagging his finger. "Tearful reunions can come after you sign my little documents."
Then, a terrible, sinister expression formed on his face.
"But first," he said. "Have I got some news for you!"
CHAPTER 8
Damien felt unsteady on his feet when Miller told him the news.
Pregnant? he thought. There's no way.
"This is just some fucking mind game," said Damien. "You're a sick fuck, Miller."
"Mind game?" said Miller. "I'd never, never joke about something of such grave importance. Besides, if you don't believe me, just ask the mother-to-be herself."
Damien's eyes latched onto Ingrid. With tears in her eyes, she nodded, and Damien realized this was no trick – she was actually pregnant. Then he turned to Adeline, the sight of her tied up causing a feeling of rage to boil within Damien that he'd never known before in his life. It took every bit of restraint to keep his beast at bay and not kill Miller without delay.
"Then what the fuck do you want?" demanded Damien. "Tell me!"
"Easy now, big guy," said Miller. "Just need you to sign some documents…"
He explained the plan to Damien, who was in disbelief that this could be what this was all about, the reason why Miller was putting everyone he cared about in such danger.
"Money?" shot Damien. "You're doing all of this just for more money?"
Miller raised his eyebrows.
"Didn't you hear the rest of it? This is about more than money. Once you and the rest of your boys are out of here, I'll be the only game in town. I'll be the paramilitary wing for every congressman and gladhander in this miserable little swamp. I'll provide protection, I'll be their eyes and ears, and I'll make sure no one does anything without my knowledge. Who knows? In a few years, I might be the private security for the president himself. Not a bad gig for a humble little shifter from Iowa, if you ask me."
Damien kept his animal restrained. He'd never wanted to kill more in his life. But he had to wait for the signal.
"Now," said Miller. "Come here and sign all this legal mumbo-jumbo, and I can get you on your way. Maybe start looking at places on the west coast, if you know what's good for you and yours."
Damien clenched his fists and approached the contracts. He took the nearby pen in his hand and looked one more time at the two women in his life. Seeing Ingrid in danger the way she was made him realize just how much she meant to him. He wanted to protect her, just like with Adeline, to keep her safe. Her and the child she carried.
"Go on," said Miller. "Get to it."
But right when Damien picked up the pen, a mournful wolf howl sounded through the night air. Then another. Then another.
That's it, thought Damien. That's the signal.
"Now, just what the hell is that?" asked Miller.
Damien didn't give him time to get a response. Grabbing the pen, he stabbed the nearest goon right in the neck, the tip going through and cutting right into the man, who dropped to his knees.
"What the hell?" said Miller.
The gunfire rang out from outside the warehouse. Damien knew this was his chance. Closing his eyes, he shifted into his wolf form and lunged toward the next-nearest man. He pounced, before the mercenary had time to shift, and sunk his teeth into his neck and gave it a sharp twist.
More gunfire sounded, and Miller looked around, his expression one of terror.
"Get the fuck out there and fight those assholes off!"
A handful of men rushed outside, leaving Miller and Damien alone.
"You cocky motherfucker," said Miller, preparing to shift. "I'll make you pay for this."
Miller then shifted into a great, silver-furred wolf. The two wolves circled around each other, each one sizing the other up. Damien knew Miller wouldn't go down as easy as the rest, and he tried to focus, blocking out the gunfire and roaring from outside as Damien's and Miller's men battled.
Miller made the first move. He lunged through the air, his eyes wild and his mouth in a snarl. Damien dove out of the way, and Miller hit the ground hard. He was soon back on his feet, however, and ready for another attack. Damien moved in close, doing his best to bait Miller into another strike. More gunfire sounded from outside, and Damien did his best to not think about how his men were doing out there. Miller's paw swiped through the air, and the claws grazed Damien's face, sending waves of pain through his body.
That's your last one, thought Damien, moving in close.
Miller's eyes narrowed, and Damien knew he was getting ready to move in for the kill. But before he could strike, a figure rushed in to his flank.
It was Ingrid.
With a quick arc, she jammed the pen she'd pulled out of the merc into Miller, sinking it deep into his fur. Miller howled, then swung his head at Ingrid, connecting with her and sending the girl tumbling backward.
No! thought Damien.
The sight of Ingrid being harmed was too much for him. His rage took over, and he was ready to kill. With a quick pounce, he rushed in and sank his teeth deep into Miller, biting all the way down to the bone, putting every last drop of his anger into his attack. Miller howled and thrashed, but he was no match for Damien and his rage. Damien held hard to his enemy, not giving an inch. Miller soon struggled less and less as the life left his body, and with a quick twist, Damien finished the mercenary off.
He tossed the limp body aside like garbage and shifted back into his human form. Damien ran over to Adeline, untying her and embra
cing the girl.
"Daddy!" she shouted, throwing her arms around her father.
Next, he took Ingrid into his arms, and as he held them close, he realized the depths of his love for the two women in his embrace, and how lucky he was to have them both safe.
Letting them go, Damien led the two girls outside of the warehouse, where Smith stood, weapon in hand, among the rest of the mercenaries. The crew all shifted back to their human forms, and Damien saw that the grounds were littered with the bodies of Miller's crew.
It was over.
Damien approached Smith and gave him a shake and a hug.
"We good inside, boss?" he asked.
"We're good," said Damien. "Nice work. Everyone."
The men nodded, and Damien turned back to his girls. Adeline ran to her father, wrapping her little arms around his legs. And Ingrid looked at him with tearful, overjoyed eyes.
"I hate that it took something like this to make me realize it," said Damien. "But I love you, Ingrid."
Ingrid nodded, tears streaming down her face.
"I love you too."
Damien pulled his woman close, bringing her lips to his.
At that moment, his heart overflowed with joy.
CHAPTER 9
"No, no," said Ingrid, a sly smile on her lips. "I think I want to call the shots for this one."
Damien, lying next to Ingrid in bed, his glorious body completely nude, responded with a smile of his own.
"Fine," he said, "I can let the girl be in charge for once."
"And they say people don't change."
Ingrid moved in close to Damien, slipped her hand between his head and the pillow, pulling him close. She brought her lips to his and kissed him slowly, tendering, basking in the love they shared. She moved her other hand down the side of his body, wondering if she'd ever get tired of just how goddamned gorgeous this man was.
"Then," said Damien, pulling away and rolling over onto his back, the sheets tenting over his massive erection, "I'll let you get to it."
Ingrid raised herself to a sitting position and moved over top of Damien until she was straddling him, his cock pointed right up at her sex. She leaned in one more time and kissed him. She couldn't help it – she just couldn't get enough of the way he tasted. As they kissed, she reached back and took hold of his prick, grasping it by the base and placing it against her lips. Ingrid let out a little gasp at the sensation of the head of his prick against her, and she slowly began to move it deeper and deeper inside.
