The Huntingtons of McKenna Downs (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Zoey Marcel

  Chapter Six

  Hessian stalked around the shadowy room, a keen sense of power surging through him at the palpable fear he sensed emanating from the scrawny creature alone in the room with him. The individual squirmed in their chair, fingers twiddling nervously as the ominous light blared down on them, blinding the person to their surroundings and broadcasting their mundane features for Hessian to see perfectly. It wasn’t a face he could be bothered with to remember.

  However, this was a potential customer—a paying customer out for blood, no doubt.

  “Why can’t I see your face, Mr. Hessian?” the coward in Emo attire questioned him.

  “You do not ask me questions,” Hessian snapped. “State your business with me, or take your leave.”

  That got the individual to start wagging their chin. “Okay. I’ll just get right to it, then. I’m in love with Kendall Laurie. She’s mine and I want her.”

  “Your inference is that you do not have her. Therefore, the correct statement would be that she is not yours, but you wish her to be.”

  The youth dared to roll their bug eyes at him. “Fine, whatever, but she belongs to me and I won’t stop until I have her.”

  “You are aware of the nature of my profession, are you not?”

  A snort filled the room, one he found distasteful and worthy of a slap he refrained from delivering.

  “Duh. I know exactly what you are. You kill people for a living. Why do you think I came to you?”

  “I warned you once already about asking me questions.”

  “Lighten up, dude. It was a rhetorical question.”

  His sudden lunge at the brat from behind and the way he fisted the person’s hair and held a knife to their throat had them singing a different tune, one he found fiercely titillating. What was it about people when they were afraid and willing to do anything to pacify the one inflicting that fear? So desperate and defenseless. He could almost feel the pulse underneath the patron’s skin as it pleaded for life against the blade perched at their throat.

  “I’m sorry! Please, I’m sorry,” the snotty, Emo punk whimpered.

  His cock hardened and a smile seduced his lips. “I thought you might be. Payment isn’t the only thing I require. I demand respect and I always get it.”

  “That’s good. You deserve it, so much.” The dastard’s jagged breaths were quick and frantic...the way breathing always became when death bellowed for the souls of its victims.

  “You’re trying my patience. Tell me the name of the one you want me to kill. Possibly you feel jilted by this Kendall Laurie’s rejection of you and you want me to kill her if she refuses to be with you?”

  “I don’t want her dead.”

  “I’m going to give you one last chance to tell me who it is you do want dead before I convey to you who it is in this hour that I want to stop breathing.”

  Sniffles and trembling told him the other person was starting to weep.

  Perfect.

  “I don’t know. It’s this guy she’s been seeing. His name is René or something girly like that.”

  “It’s French.”

  “Whatever. Oh god! I’m sorry.”

  His smile broadened over the way the brat had become deferential toward him when he pressed the knife with slightly greater pressure against the person’s throat. “You’re learning fast. What is this René’s last name?”

  “I don’t know, but he lives in McKenna Downs.”

  Hessian felt a jolt of astonishment charge through him. He moved the knife away from his patron’s throat and let go of their hair. This business deal, he decided, was one he would most definitely take. He had a good feeling he knew which René was being discussed.

  “It’s a small town in South Dakota. I’ve been watching Kendall. She’s also been hanging around with this other guy, too. I don’t know his name, but he’s African American. I think he’s friends with that René guy. You don’t have to kill him unless he’s sleeping with Kendall, too.”

  Hessian began circling the babbling fool again, wading in his thoughts. “I shall kill whoever I desire to.”

  “Sorry. I just don’t want anyone to get hurt if they don’t have to, only if they try to take Kendall away from me. So...” The weasel gulped anxiously. “If you end up killing someone that I don’t think needed to be killed, like say they got in the way or something, I won’t get charged for that, right?”

  “No. If this other man finds himself dead, I will not charge you for it. I will, however, require you to stay out of my way and keep out of sight. It would be a shame if you found yourself as one of the unfortunate casualties of my mission.”

  What little color there was on the pallid gobshite had drained from their face. “I won’t get in the way, Mr. Hessian.”

  “Call me sir.”

  “Yes, sir. Whatever you want, sir.”

  “Very good. When you first came in here, I counted you as a four, but when you acknowledge your weakness and render me proper deference, it automatically elevates you to a six, easily.”

  The patron winced at the backhanded compliment, visibly fighting not to glare at him. “I don’t swing that way.”

  “You think I care? Now then, would you like me to kill this René Huntington quickly and painlessly?” He dropped his pitch as he salivated over his subsequent words. “Or would you prefer I torture him first and kill him slowly?”

  “Quick and painless is fine. I just want the guy out of the way so I have Kendall. You don’t have to be needlessly cruel with him. Hey, I never told you the guy’s last name. What makes you think it’s Huntington?”

  Hessian ignored the question. “I’m afraid it will cost you an additional fee when you have the audacity to take the fun out of the hunt for me.”

  “Y-you actually charge more to give them a quick death?”

  “Oh yes, I am an artist in my profession, and when I am denied the privilege of exploring my victim’s psyche and testing their pain tolerance before I grant them the mercy of death, I find myself needing consolation with more money. You must understand.”

  The delusional patron pondered this for a brief minute with obvious discomfort. “Do whatever you have to, to lower my fee.”

  “As you wish. I will take half of the payment now and the other half once I finish the task. Count the money in the envelope for me.”

  “It’s all there, the half you want now.”

  “Are you questioning me again after I told you not to?”

  “No, sir.”

  The puny weakling got right to counting his precious green bills. The only thing more appealing to him than the money being counted for him was the utterly appetizing sight of a frightened creature that recognized their inferiority and trembled at the power they knew Hessian had over them.

  “Can you at least step into the light so I can see who I’m doing business with?”

  He rammed the knife into the table so it stuck in the wooden surface where the light shone, but he remained in the dark. The bloodcurdling scream of terror that tore out of the coward made Hessian’s bones ache with the need to kill and turned the blood to scalding lava in his veins.

  “What did I say about questions, you thick-headed shit?”

  “I’m sorry! I won’t ask again.”

  “See that you don’t. My remaining in the shadows is an extension of mercy toward you. Believe me when I tell you that you don’t ever want me to get close to you.” He stood behind the shaking mess and murmured a chilling hush into the ear just centimeters away from his lips. “When I get close to someone, it changes them. They wish they could forget me, but they never do. The fortunate ones end up dead. The ones I favor get to live, but it’s so much worse for them. They become a shell of what they once were. I possess them, like a demon.” He rubbed the person’s shoulder, channeling his unspoken threat into the mock-relaxing touch. “I own them, like a mindless object designed only for my pleasure to use and abuse as I see fit. Is that what you want?”

  The cust
omer shook their head rapidly.

  “I didn’t think so.” He stood and then retrieved the knife from off the table, disappearing with it into the darker portions of the shadows again. “Finish counting the money and then take your leave.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  * * * *

  Justin Huntington’s head jerked when he saw his arch nemesis standing at a distance, glaring at him. Oh yeah, it was him, all right. Jasper Lee was a punk in more ways than one. The guy had a Mohawk, and not your daddy’s Mohawk. That baby had some height and texture, and his hair, what wasn’t shaved off, was red, about as red as the rage Justin sensed steaming off the punk-ass DJ that worked at the BDSM club with him.

  Serves you right, crap-tart, for parking in my space.

  Jasper looked menacing in his leathers and chains, with all those piercings and tattoos. Who the hell dressed like that in broad daylight?

  Freak.

  Justin wore a mere T-shirt and jeans with tennis shoes, but he always took the time to style and gel his hair.

  He pointed at Jasper and silently laughed at him, making a show of it. Apparently Jasper didn’t like that so much. He came storming over, scaring the shit out of him. The freaky-looking guy had him beat in the height department.

  Justin started walking quickly away from him. Jasper matched him step for step, making his pace that much brisker whenever Justin picked up speed. He took off down an alley, hollering inside like a shrieking fox calling to its mate in that oh-so-unique way of theirs.

  “Huntington!”

  “Aaaahhhh!” Justin ran faster, gasping when the other man grabbed him by the shirt and shoved him up against the side of a building. “Jasper. Ha-ha. Did I ever tell you how much I love your music? That pudoop pudoop thing you do, whatever it’s called, is great.”

  “Did you dump cow shit on me last night?” Jasper snarled.

  Justin faked an exaggerated gasp. “Why, Jasper, where would I get cow crap?”

  “From your dad’s ranch, dipshit.”

  “That’s an interesting theory, but I have an alibi.”

  “Yeah, I bet you do.”

  “If you let go of me, I can tell you all about how innocent I am.”

  Jasper slammed him up against the wall again. “Nice try, Huntington. You’ll fucking run if I let go of you.”

  Justin raised a finger, trying to appear unafraid. “Now, that’s not necessarily true, although if you’d stop parking in somebody’s spot, maybe it wouldn’t rain cow shit on you.”

  “Oh yeah?” Jasper drew his fist back and Justin squeezed his eyes shut. “What the...?”

  He peeked and saw that his boss, Aiden Friel, had grabbed Jasper’s hand before he could throw a punch. The man kept the guy’s hand back with impressive ease.

  “What’s the story?” Aiden asked.

  “He threw cow shit at me last night.”

  “No one can prove anything!” Justin pointed at Jasper and narrowed his eyes in defense.

  There was an uncharacteristic light in Aiden’s eyes that might have been amusement. “Did you see him do it?”

  “The shit came from his window.”

  Justin smirked. “I was framed, Foghorn.”

  “The fuck did you just call me?”

  Smirking, Aiden was quick about grabbing Jasper when he lunged for Justin. “Buy y’rself a drink and cool off.”

  He shoved Jasper away from Justin.

  Jasper pointed at him as he sauntered away. “This isn’t over, Huntington.”

  “Just quit parking in my space, dingbat!” Justin called after him, cringing when Jasper glowered back at him over his shoulder. He kept walking, luckily. “Thanks, man. I owe you one.”

  Aiden’s lips drew back in a subtle smile. “You can’t stay out of trouble for five minutes, can you?”

  “I can stay out of trouble for six minutes when I have to, as long as no one parks in my space.”

  “You almost got your ass kicked.”

  “So? I had a plan.”

  “Sure you did.” Aiden started to walk away.

  Justin trotted after him. “Hey, I wanted to talk to you. Do you think maybe you could arrange for me to get a lady Domme?”

  “Never gonna happen.”

  “Ah, why not?”

  Aiden stopped walking and turned to face him. “You, submitting to a woman, I can’t picture it.”

  “Why not? I haven’t had a girlfriend in a while. My only interaction with a woman for the past year has been with my puma.”

  His brow furrowed. “What?”

  “This girl I’ve been talking to online. I told you about her. She’s a few years older than me. That’s why I call her my puma. It’s like a cougar, but not that much older than me. She’s great, but she lives far away and we don’t have any kind of understanding. It’s just talk, though we agreed to meet if she ever comes to South Dakota or if I’m ever in California.” Justin sighed. “Sometimes I don’t think I’ll ever get to meet her. I need somebody to be with. I want to cuddle.”

  Aiden’s lips tugged at the corners, but the smile he forbade his mouth was conveyed with his eyes.

  “Among other things.” Justin winked at him. “Get it?”

  Aiden rolled his eyes and gave him his back as he departed. “I got it.”

  “So what do you say, boss? Can you find me a woman? It would be nice if her boobs were big. I like to bounce them and squish them in my hands like Play-Doh.”

  “If you want a woman, find one y’rself.”

  “But I was thinking of trying BDSM. I don’t really care if I’m a top or a bottom. I just want to play.”

  Aiden heaved a sigh, spinning slightly to face him. “Justin—”

  “Just give me one reason why I can’t have a sub or a Domme.”

  He held Justin’s gaze for a moment in a silence that told him nothing. “It’ll distract you from your work. You’re a thorn in my side as it is.”

  Justin skipped toward him when Aiden began leaving again. “Then what did you hire me for?”

  “To keep an eye on you. With me in charge of your paycheck, it makes for a fairly good deterrent against you taggin’ my club again.”

  “Are you sure you didn’t just want to get revenge on me by being the boss from hell?”

  “Partly.”

  He bounded in front of Aiden and placed his hands out. “Just hear me out. I won’t do any kinky scenes when I’m supposed to be at work, and I won’t ever do any in front of you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “No.”

  “Damn it, Aiden. You suck.” Justin dropped to his knees in front of him, hoping he hadn’t overstepped his bounds when he saw the way Aiden flinched and the sudden hardening of his countenance. “Look. I’m on my knees begging you. It doesn’t getting any more desperate than that.”

  “You’re makin’ a fool of y’rself.”

  “Are you worried I’m gonna hurt the ladies? I would never do that.”

  “Quit actin’ the maggot and get up.”

  “Heck, you can even be there during my scene with whichever woman you choose for me.”

  Aiden rolled his eyes. “What makes you think I want to see you with a woman?”

  “Fine, don’t be there. I’d rather you weren’t, anyway. It’s just not fair of you to tell me no when I’m asking so nicely.”

  “What gave you the impression that I’m a fair man?”

  Justin clung to the man’s legs, making him flinch and his eyes spark with fury. “I have needs. I need someone to spank me into distraction.”

  “Jaysus,” Aiden breathed, looking the other way.

  “My achy, breaky heart can’t take it. You know, like that song?”

  “Why do you even drink coffee? You have more energy than you know what to do with.”

  “Well, I could expend some if you’d help me out.”

  Why was Aiden smiling?

  “I just thought that if I became more interesting, maybe my redheaded puma would come see me. I
’ve been trying to save up to fly out to her, but life is so expensive. I’ve probably maxed out my credit card. Crap, I gotta pay for that car I blew up.”

  “How did you blow up a car?”

  “I accidentally threw a grenade at it.”

  Aiden shook his head, brow furrowing. “What the hell were you doing foolin’ around with a grenade?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be playing with a grenade? Welcome to the twentieth century, Aiden.”

  “Twenty-first.”

  “Nu-uh, then how come this is 2014, not 2114?”

  Aiden just stared down at him and then shook his head as he brushed past him. “Simply astounding.”

  Justin grabbed his leg. “Can you see why I need to get all kinkified?”

  “I think you’re grand just the way you are, and if she were worthy of you, she would, too.”

  “Thanks. That’s nice of you to say.” He savored Aiden’s compliment and beckoned up at him with pleading eyes, noticing the hard strength in the man’s legs where he gripped them. “Just let me do a scene with one of them.”

  “Submitting to a woman doesn’t become you.”

  “I’ll top one, then.” Justin’s breath caught when his attempt to stand was thwarted by Aiden’s hand pressing down hard on his shoulder. He came down on his knees suddenly and felt a noticeable stirring in his groin.

  Aiden hooked a finger under his chin and angled his face upward. His voice came out low and serious. “There isn’t a dominant bone in your body.”

  They stared at each for a long moment. Creeping warmth became a feverish heat wave that engulfed him all over and made Justin’s cock twitch in his jeans.

  “Stay vanilla,” Aiden murmured, his thumb brushing Justin’s jawline as he let go of him.

  Justin remembered to breathe again when Aiden released him from his scorching stare. His lips parted in astonishment when Aiden took some money out of his wallet and placed it in his hand.

  “Use this to pay off some of your debt. Don’t use it for frivolities or pointless trips.”

  “God, boss, I can’t—”

  “Yes, you can.” Aiden closed his fingers over the cool, crisp bills. “Don’t fuck this up.”

  “Wow. I...Thanks a lot.”