Love, Death and Justice

by Sam Crescent

  A Total-E-Bound Publication

  www.total-e-bound.com

  Love, Death and Justice

  ISBN # 978-1-78184-039-9

  ©Copyright Sam Crescent 2012

  Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright July 2012

  Edited by Stacey Birkel

  Total-E-Bound Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2012 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.

  Warning:

  This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Total-e-burning and a sexometer of 2.

  This story contains 91 pages, additionally there is also a free excerpt at the end of the book containing 10 pages.

  Love and Death

  LOVE, DEATH AND JUSTICE

  Sam Crescent

  Love and death are always part of life, but now is the time to seek out justice.

  Catherine Hart is running. She’s just witnessed her sister’s murder. She can’t run fast enough. Caught and thrust into Cyril Woods’ world of prostitution and chaos, she must seduce Lance Clay and get the deal her sister was striking, or die.

  Nothing is as it seems. Her sister was hiding far deeper than she could imagine. Lance wants Clay’s head and is prepared to do anything to get what he wants.

  Catherine is a gift to Lance and together they must fight for her freedom and bring Cyril down. But in this world nothing is as it seems. Is her sister really dead, and who is really controlling Cyril?

  Dedication

  I would like to thank my editor, Stacey, for her time with this story.

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Glock: GLOCK Gesellschaft mbH

  Toy Story: Walt Disney Pictures

  Sponge Bob Square Pants: MTV Networks

  Chapter One

  Someone was chasing her. She didn’t know who or what it was, but the unmistakable urge to look back overcame her. She glanced back and there they were, following close behind. She shouldn’t have been there—her sister had warned her to stay clear of the club and warehouse—and now she had just watched her sister being murdered in cold blood.

  Catherine Hart suppressed a sob. For months her older sister, Sidney, had been caring for her, helping her get through university free from debt. If only she’d known before that Sidney had been selling her body to the highest bidder to care for her. To pay all of her student fees. Catherine would have told her she was crazy and she shouldn’t be using her body—she should be out enjoying life and love. Catherine didn’t need education—it was something their parents had wanted for them.

  Catherine turned down a darkened alley and ran straight into a muscled chest, then her arms were roughly grabbed and squeezed tight. Catherine couldn’t control the sobs escaping her mouth.

  “Please, don’t hurt me,” she begged the unmoving man.

  “You got her?” One of the men who’d been following behind her panted as they caught up.

  “Of course I did. Unlike you two, I don’t fail my boss.”

  Catherine was shaking. They were going to kill her, she was sure of it.

  “Let’s get her back to the club. Kill anyone who looks a little too closely,” the one who held her ordered the two men.

  The club in question was a nightclub known for strippers, prostitutes and many underhanded dealings. She cried out as they forced her inside a black car, the windows blacked out so no one could see in.

  After all her years mocking these situations in movies, Catherine couldn’t believe she was now living it. Her heart was racing and her stomach doing somersaults with every speed bump they passed, taking her closer to the monster who’d killed her sister.

  Sidney. All the memories she’d had of the woman who’d cared for her since her parents’ death came swimming to the surface, threatening to suffocate her.

  I’m so sorry, Sid. I should’ve listened to you.

  A few nights ago, Catherine had dressed ready to go out for a night on the town with her sister. Sid had been furious and had refused to let her leave the apartment.

  “I’m working, baby, and I can’t do my job if I’m worrying about you.”

  Not understanding her sister’s words, Catherine had refused to speak to her. Then tonight she had decided to follow her.

  The biggest mistake of her life had been believing that Sidney could pay for things and take care of her without getting into trouble.

  The car stopped round a back entrance and the same man who’d forced her into the car now pulled her out. Her fear returning—along with no common sense—she kneed the man who held her in the balls then used the small opportunity, when he let go to cup his crown jewels, to try to run.

  Another of his men grabbed her, hauling her back. The man she’d kneed dealt her a stinging blow across the face.

  Pain shot through her head, making her heave.

  They pulled her into a hectic kitchen of what appeared to be a busy club then into an office. Her fear spiked to unimaginable proportions. Two huge men with guns and foul expressions greeted her at the door with a sneer and she was dragged further into the room. Behind the desk, holding a phone to his ear, sat the monster—the murderer who’d taken her sister’s life.

  Oh, Sid, why?

  For the rest of her life, Catherine would never understand what had pushed her to make money in this way.

  “I’ve got a guest right now, but you can tell Mr Clay he’ll be supplied plenty of girls… Sorry—one girl. No problem. I want this business to work.” As she listened to his conversation, she wondered who would choose to do business with the creep.

  The phone was slammed down and the man stared at her—his eyes dead and the look he gave menacing. Her fear doubled. There was nothing to stop him from killing her right now.

  “So this is the sister?” His voice commanded attention and the men stood straighter as he got out of his chair and came round to her.

  The guy behind her tightened his hold while the boss moved closer. She struggled, unable to help the instinct inside her to get away from him.

  He was a killer. She loved her sister dearly and would miss her…but, God help her, she didn’t want to die.

  “She’s prettier and would bring a few bob for our trouble.” The monster stroked a finger down her cheek and Catherine sobbed. Danger was calling out to her and she wasn’t able to handle it.

  “You killed my sister,” she accused.

  He sighed and fisted the hair at the back of her head. He was taller than her and he pulled her up against him, grabbing her chin roughly.

  She gasped and tried to pull away but all that did was cause her more pain.

  “Do you know who I am?” he asked.

  She refused to answer, sen
ding him a glare.

  The man let go of her chin long enough to deliver a stinging slap before grasping her chin harder. “Answer my question or I’ll hand you over to my men. It’s been a while since they’ve had some fresh meat.”

  Catherine knew what he meant—they’d rape and beat her. To be handed around four men and whoever else, as opposed to answering his questions? She would rather go with the latter.

  “I don’t know who you are.”

  “Sidney was a fool. You’d certainly bring in the cash, but no… Little sister had to stay at home and study.” He slid his hand down her body, cupping a breast and squeezing it tightly. She whimpered from the bruising pain. “But Sidney helped my businesses. Do you know what your sister did for me?”

  The tears were falling freely and she openly wept. Her life and her entire belief in her older sister were being smashed apart. The man in front of her grabbed her roughly, pulling away from the hold of the one at her back.

  He whispered against her ear. “She fucked my clients senseless and, because of you, my most valuable asset is now dead. I’m Cyril Woods and you owe me, sweetheart.” He thrust her away and she stumbled into a heap on the floor.

  His final sentence penetrated her thoughts. Cyril Woods. His crimes came in a long list and he was notorious throughout the whole of the city. Murder, prostitution, drugs, fraud, blackmail. Everything with a name and a crime to match could be brought back to his door.

  “Ah, I see you’re not completely brain dead and all of Sid’s hard work has, in fact, paid off. Excellent.” Cyril pulled her up off the floor and dumped her in the nearest chair. He knelt in front of her. He took her hands in his and stroked. Each word and touch made Catherine shake inside. His behaviour was like the calm before the storm.

  “Let me go,” she begged.

  “No, I can’t do that.”

  She sniffled and hated herself for the show of weakness. Her face and head hurt. She just wanted to rewind the whole night. In truth, all Catherine wanted was her sister to tell her it would all be all right.

  But Sidney was never coming back.

  “You see, Sid owed me big time, and, because of your interference, my business deal has been postponed.” His hand went to her face as though to gather her attention. Cyril Woods had all of her focus. She wouldn’t dream of giving him anything less.

  “I’m sorry.” What more could she say?

  “I’m sorry doesn’t even begin to make up the money I’m losing.”

  “I don’t know how to help you.” Her thoughts were filled with memories. The shock was finally kicking in.

  “You’re a girl and I’ve got a man with the need of some company. You’ll go and treat this man to the night of his life, and in return I get my deal. Afterwards, you can leave. Fair?” Cyril sounded so earnest and blameless.

  “Treat a man to the time of his life? Do you mean to take him out to a bar and get him drunk? A movie and a bag of chips at the end?” In her heart she prayed it was as innocent as it sounded.

  The men in the room chuckled and scoffed at her.

  “No, sweetheart. You’re…twenty-three, twenty-four?”

  Catherine didn’t want to give him any personal information, but his eyes held a hardness, and she knew deep down she’d have no choice.

  “Twenty-three.”

  “Still so young, but to some men a little too old. You should be pleased Mr Clay is not so inclined. I want you to get spruced up. Lee over there will get you ready and set up at the hotel. I want you to fuck Mr Clay into oblivion so I can get my business settled. Quite simply, honey, spread those little thighs like your sister did for many clients of mine and suck him dry.”

  Repulsion settled in her stomach. Everything coming out of his mouth was vulgar but she knew she didn’t have much choice.

  “You can’t make me do that. I’ll go to the police…”

  “Lee? Show the girl I mean business.”

  A knife pressed into the delicate column of her neck, making her gasp in shock and pain as the tip bit into her flesh. A gun was placed at her temple, the intention clear.

  “Which way would you like to die, Miss Hart? Slowly, bleeding out all over my carpet, or quickly, but still as messy? Your life can be gone just like that.”

  Catherine cried out when he clapped his hands, the sudden sound frightening.

  “Or you can agree to keep your mouth shut, fuck my client and walk free.”

  The pressure from the weapons didn’t ease up. Was she sick for wanting to live even if her sister was dead to the world?

  “Time’s running out, Catherine.”

  I’m sorry, Sid.

  “Five…four…three…two…”

  “Yes,” she whispered, taking a breath before continuing, “I’ll do what you ask.”

  There was nothing else she could do. Live or die? Fuck or die? The choice was limited and she hated herself for agreeing to such terms, but she wanted to live.

  Right in that moment, Catherine Hart made a promise to herself.

  Once her ordeal was over and Cyril had his client and money, she was going to live her life to the fullest, regardless of the fear.

  I love you, Sidney. The only thing Catherine had ever wanted to achieve was to make her sister proud. Never again would she give in. To fight would be her new motto.

  “Lee, help her out.”

  A sharp prick in her neck told Catherine her ordeal was about to begin. Within seconds, the world faded and darkness consumed her.

  Chapter Two

  Lance Clay looked out of his limo’s dark-tinted windows, and his mind wandered to what his assistant had told him—a young lady was waiting for him at the hotel to tempt him into submitting a massive deal over to Cyril Woods. He clenched his fingers into the muscles of his legs trying to control his growing anger. He wasn’t well known for containing his popular counterpart. A true Jekyll and Hyde himself, only he didn’t have some mad, big monster on the loose.

  The city passed him by. London on a good day could be beautiful, except for this part—the part owned by crooks and everyone else you wouldn’t want to be caught down a darkened alley with.

  He truly hated London and was looking forward to his journey back into the country, but this was one of those much-needed appointments he must keep.

  “Francis, how long?” he called to his driver.

  “Not much longer, sir.”

  Francis understood the purpose of his trip and was a loyal worker. While Lance was stuck in the hotel, Francis would be driving around until he gave him the signal to come and get him.

  “Do you think she’s pretty?” he asked to start making conversation.

  “I wouldn’t know, sir. Poor girl is probably scared to death.”

  Lance wasn’t prepared to talk about tonight’s outcome. You could never be too sure who was listening in. As usual, they’d checked the limo for any bugs but had come up blank. Lance valued his privacy and he spent good money on equipment to that end. It was awful having a heated opinion splashed all over the tabloids.

  “We’re here, sir.”

  Lance glanced out of the window and sneered. The hotel was clearly one of the cheapest sort for rent-a-night rooms. Nothing about it was subtle or clean.

  “This is outrageous.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but according to John it was all last minute.”

  Last fucking minute. He was in a bad mood now. Francis drove to a more deserted part of the hotel lot.

  “Keep the car running,” Lance told him before exiting the vehicle and finding room 203 on the third floor.

  Lance knocked. When the door opened, he walked in without thinking. It smelt of stale cigarette smoke and old sex, the combination vomit-worthy.

  He glanced around and spotted the woman on the bed. She lay on her back, her legs splayed, staring at the ceiling.

  Lance frowned. He hadn’t expected to see one so blatantly uninterested. He usually saw Sidney. He didn’t know her last name. She would try to seduce him
and he’d hold her back, making conversation with the intent of having her spill all of Cyril’s secrets. Everyone knew Cyril held the girl in high regard, and from what he’d heard she’d well earned the reputation of being his paid whore.

  He’d never been able to see it. She’d never appealed to him, but then nothing about Cyril and his scum appealed.

  The girl still hadn’t responded to his presence. Not used to that sort of rudeness, he went to the side of the bed. Her eyes were glazed over as she lay, continuing to stare at the ceiling as though she wasn’t really seeing it.

  A note stuck out of her cleavage, the dress so tight that it squeezed her breasts together. Lance winced. It looked painful. He took the card and read the small note.

  Mr Clay,

  Sidney couldn’t make it. I’m a gift from Cyril to show his appreciation.

  Cat

  Lance pocketed the note and tested her responses. She was still breathing but her eyes hadn’t changed. He lifted her arm and let go. It fell weightless onto the bed. He took a good long look at her, really looked.

  “I have a sister and she needs looking after… Lance, I can’t do what you’re asking.”

  “What’s your sister’s name?”

  “Catherine. Here—here’s a picture.”

  He recalled the conversation far too well. He’d thought the girl, Sid—a mere whore with nothing going for her but greed and a drug problem. What else was he supposed to think? She worked for Cyril and the only types of people near him were scum and the bottom of the food chain.

  Lying on the bed was the girl Sidney had been trying to protect. He’d recognise the massive expanse of hair anywhere. In the picture of her as a young girl, she’d been beautiful, but the woman now before him was spectacular…and in danger. The only question he had left was where the hell was Sidney?