Beautiful Tyrant (Enemies to Lovers - Dark Romance Book 3)

by C. P. Mandara

  Chapter Four - Gabriel

  The sound of a gunshot exploding deflates the high of my orgasm in an instant. One minute I'm up in the clouds, and the next I'm falling down to earth with no parachute. The landing is unpleasantly hard, as you can imagine. Pulling out of Harper my eyes dart around the room to see if I can spot who's bleeding out.

  At first glance I can't see a thing. There's no tell-tale stain of blood on any of us, which is a good sign, so maybe Mal has just given us a warning shot. Sure enough, on further inspection I find little pieces of plaster on the floor, and when I look up it's to find there's a bullet lodged in the wall just above our heads. It looks like someone is on the warpath.

  'I don't remember telling either of you to let her come. I'm the only one gets to do that.' Mal is advancing, waving his gun around, the expression on his face is predatory. One of us is in for the chop. This is Brandt's work. He let the bitch come. What is wrong with him?

  'We didn't,' says Brandt, openly lying. 'She did that all by herself. She seems to like pain.' That stops Mal in his tracks. Now I'm not sure how closely he was paying attention to Brandt's antics, but there's a possibility he saw what was happening. Brandt is playing a dangerous game.

  Mal gets in Brandt's face. 'Are you lying to me, boy? Do you think I didn't notice where those hands were?'

  'Oh, I know you did,' Brandt says without a missing a beat, 'but I pulled them away before she came. I don't like her enough to grant her that kind of pleasure. She hasn't had an orgasm the whole time she's been here. Ask her yourself. Somehow she managed to carry herself over the edge without my help. Interesting trick, that. I'd love to know how she did it.'

  Mal grabs hold of Harper and spins her around to face him. 'That true, princess?' His eyes narrow as he looks at her expectantly.

  'Fuck you,' she spits, and she looks furious. It's obviously a look she's worn before because he smiles. 'Rubbing yourself up against the wall again, eh, 'Arper? What have I told you about that? It will get you into trouble.' He turns her around again and spanks her butt.

  'Come over here.' He curls his finger towards Brandt. Stepping forward slowly, my ex looks rather apprehensive. I'm not feeling any better about this turn of events if I'm honest. Is he going to kill him? Does he know he's lying?

  Mal hands his gun to him. Just like that. I'm pretty sure I can figure out what's going to happen next. He's is going to see where Brandt's allegiances lie.

  'Kill her,' he barks, and Harper's mouth widens in a big 'O' that says she never saw this coming. Too bad. I did.

  Brandt looks at the gun as if it's made of TNT. He looks afraid to touch the damn thing. Kill her, I silently urge. If you don't, we're all dead.

  Finally he takes it and aims at her. I'm pretty sure he has no idea how to use the thing, so I don't know who he's trying to fool.

  'What's stopping me from killing you with this thing?' he asks. It's as if the bloody man has a death wish. Just kill the girl, for fuck's sake.

  Mal smiles. 'Absolutely nothing. But if you do kill me everyone else in this room will be dead a few seconds later. You're not getting past my boys.' He indicates the thugs standing at the back of the room. I suddenly feel sick. There is no way Brandt will kill Harper. He's half in love with her, so unless I'm much mistaken we're all going to be blown to smithereens because he won't man up to the job.

  Snatching the gun out of his hands I say, 'I'll do it,' aiming at her forehead before the thing is yanked abruptly from me.

  'Did I ask you?' Mal delivers a vicious backhander that sends me staggering. Clutching a hand to my injured jaw I groan. My mouth is now full of blood and it doesn't taste very pleasant.

  He passes the firearm back to Brandt. 'Kill her,' he repeats. Brandt looks surprisingly cool, considering. He won't kill Harper, which will mean we'll all be dead very shortly. The asshole could at least look slightly guilty about that, but there's not a flicker of emotion on his face. I know that look well. I wear it often. On him, though, it's not something I see very often. What is going on here? What have I missed?

  When he brings the gun up to Harper's head again my eyes follow every move he makes. Is he going to use that thing to shoot Mal? If so, the place is about to light up quicker than a war zone. But with Brandt anything is possible. There's still a person with morals and beliefs inside him. That part of me died a long time ago. It's why I could happily pick up the gun and shoot her without a moment's pause. Brandt can't do that, though. Right now he'll be panicking. His blood pressure will be rocketing and before long his hands are going to start shaking. Mal is going to see through the act and bury us both.

  When the safety is pulled back I wince for Brandt. There is no way he's going to do this. Any minute now Mal's brains are going to be scattered all over the floor and ours will follow shortly after. This pisses me off. I've just been released from a very long spell inside, and now someone's going to kill me? How's that for irony?

  I stare at Brandt for the last time, as I watch his finger tighten on the trigger. It feels as if my retinas are trying to burn the image into my brain because time almost slows to a halt from which there is no escape. Life is so bloody unfair. I want to tell Brandt all sorts of things, but I can't open my mouth to say shit. For the first time in my adult life, I'm choked up. I do have a heart, after all. The gun is still firmly trained on Harper. What is going on? I can't believe he's going to kill her.

  The gun clicks. I wait for the inevitable explosion of a bullet, but nothing happens. I wonder if I've entered a parallel universe. A really bizarre one.

  For starters, the expression on Harper's face is so comical I want to laugh. She's got one eye open, one closed, her cheeks are scrunched up, and her teeth, for some reason, appear to be in mid-bite. It's like she's frozen in place with rigor mortis-like horror. Brandt, on the other hand, has both eyes open and the look of a killer within them. His shoulders are pulled back as if preparing for the gun's whiplash, his expression at first deadly, and then puzzled as he realises no one's died. The rest of the mercenaries in the room look shocked. We're all wondering what happened, and there's only one man with the answers.

  Turning to Mal, I see he's the only one who isn't surprised by this turn of events. Then it dawns on me. This was never about killing Harper. He doesn't want her dead - at least not yet. He just wanted to see if Brandt would pull the trigger. I'm betting he was ninety-nine percent positive he wouldn't, so this must be an interesting result. I'm curious. Did Brandt know the gun wasn't loaded? I don't see how he could. That means he took a calculated risk - and a big one at that. Still, it might pay off if we're lucky.

  'Didn't think you had it in you, pretty boy.' Mal plucks the gun from Brandt's fingers and then shoves a cartridge in it before placing it back in his pocket.

  'What the hell was that all about?' Brandt asks angrily.

  Mal's tongue gently strokes his upper lip as he raises his head to face him. 'Well, you didn't actually think I'd leave you with a loaded gun, did you? There was always a chance you'd shoot me, and I'm not about to take that risk. I just wanted to see if you'd actually do it. It was a test of sorts. If you weren't capable of pulling the trigger, you'd be of no use to me.'

  Brandt seemed perplexed by the answer. 'Why didn't you give the gun to Gabriel? Why me?' he asks. I already know the answer to that question, but it seems my ex needs clarification. He shouldn't. He knows exactly what I'm capable of.

  'Because, sunshine, I already know he's a killer.' Mal indicates me with a flick of his finger. 'You, though, I wasn't so sure of, and if you can't kill I don't have a use for you.' He sneers. 'I'm still not sure you'd be good for much, but I do have a job that needs sortin' out, and I don't have enough men to spare at the minute.' He looks at Brandt thoughtfully, but Brandt doesn't say a word. It's a good move. You don't want to say any more than you have to around this bastard. One word in the wrong place would be enough to hang you.

  'Why? What's going on?' Harper has finally found her voice, which is quite surp
rising considering her near death experience. Most females would have melted into a little puddle on the floor right now, giving everyone an impressive display of histrionics. Not so our Harper. This one's as hard as nails because she's had to be, in order to survive. I almost feel sorry for her, even though she's in direct competition with me, so she's currently my enemy. Still, I work with the old adage: keep your friends close and your enemies closer. So she might come in useful at some point.

  Mal tosses her one of Brandt's T-shirts he's found on the floor. 'Get dressed, princess. We're moving out.'

  'What have you got planned?' she demands. She's not going to let this go. I swear she has a death wish. There's no way I'd mess with Mal, and I've only known him for half an hour.

  He walks over to her slowly, grabbing her chin and pulling her to him. She doesn't even blink. 'Feeling nosey, darlin'?' he asks.

  'You're going to kill me and these guys in less than a week's time. What harm can there be in sharing, sweetheart?' Her voice is dripping with sarcasm as she returns his endearment. Mal asking Brandt to put a bullet in her head has really pissed her off. Strange girl.

  'You wanna get cheeky with me, sweetheart? You don't want to know what fun things I have planned for you when we get back home. Trust me.'

  'Oh, I know exactly what you've got planned for me. What I want to know, is what are these two going to be doing? As I won't be alive long enough to tell anyone, you might as well share.'

  'Who says I'm going to kill you?' He almost looks affronted.

  Harper glares at him. 'I know how this works, Mal. I'm not stupid.' Pulling Brandt's T-shirt over her head, she looks him directly in the eye. 'Who's pissed you off lately? Maybe I could kill them for you?' Her hand reaches up to stroke the stubble on his jaw, and the action makes me shudder. She's like a mouse playing with a mountain lion. She doesn't stand a chance.

  Mal smacks his lips together, and I watch him use his tongue to clean something from his left incisor. I'm feeling vaguely nauseous, and that can't be a good thing.

  'You can't kill this one, princess. Everyone who's tried so far has ended up dead. And I don't want you dead because if you're dead...' He lets her finish the sentence for him.

  'If I'm dead, you don't get to kill me. Must be someone big.' She sounds thoughtful. Maybe she's going through her databanks of drug dealers. Can she piece together who might be next to bite the dust with regard to Adley's world domination plans? Maybe she's trying to figure out if she can get us all out of this catastrophic fuck-up? I think that ship has sailed, but at least she's stopped him from killing us outright.

  Mal clears his throat. 'It is someone big. I haven't been able to get anyone close to them, but Brandt over there, he might be able to.' He purses his lips. It's clear the cogs are turning, but he's a cagey bastard. I wonder if he's had this planned all along. Wouldn't surprise me. That way he has Harper in his pocket. She'll do anything he says if it means Brandt gets out of here without a bullet lodged in his skull.

  'It's someone Brandt's father knows, isn't it?' she whispers. He raises his eyebrows, but he doesn't confirm her guess.

  'You don't need to bother your pretty little head, darlin'. You just need to look cute and get ready to suck my cock. Believe it or not I've missed you. No one takes what I dish out quite as well as you do.'

  'You mean no one else you hurt enjoys pain,' she clarifies.

  He shrugs. 'Same thing.'

  'Brandt and his father don't even talk any more,' she says. 'They've disowned him.'

  Mal shrugs again. 'So? That will just make this all the more entertaining. Brandt will have to do some work for a change.'

  'You're setting them up? You were never going to kill them, were you? You had this planned all along.' Her eyes have turned almost black. She is one pissed off little lady, and Adley seems to find it extremely amusing.

  'Nah. I just wanted to see what you would do to save them. I can read you like a book, princess. I know you like him, even though you pretend to profess otherwise. Maybe I'll get someone to film these two twats as they try to play Bond. It'll probably give me hours of entertainment, and I'm sure you'll enjoy watching the footage with me. How long do you think pretty boy will last, Harper? Ten minutes? Half an hour? Won't be much more than that before the bodyguards mow him down. They won't even get close enough to wave at the bloke.'

  Brandt and I risk a look at each other. Bodyguards? Who the hell is this fucker?

  Harper shakes her head. 'You are one sick individual, Mal Adley. Was killing Alex not enough for you? Do you really need to stick the knife in and twist it?'

  'Well, sweetness, you witnessed that murder. Although I admit it was kind of a joint effort, it still doesn't pay to have witnesses around. You knew this was coming. Don't play the wilting wallflower on me now.'

  'A joint effort?' she says incredulously. 'Really? That's how we're playing this now? It was some joint effort, all right. One engineered by you from start to finish and filmed just in case I put a foot out of line. You and Alex were very similar like that, by the way. You don't like loose ends. People either do what you say or you kill them. It's no wonder you've got no pals, Mal. You're going to die all alone, without a single friend to mourn your passing. They'll cheer when they bury you.' Harper is foolishly winding him up, but she's sticking up for Brandt. Is this the part where I start to feel guilty for doubting her? She has been on our side all along. The part where she threw us to the dogs was to try and get Mal off our backs, not the other way around. I now realise that she's accepted the fact she's going to die, but she's trying her best to give us a chance out of this crap. I'm beginning to look at the waif in a whole new light. She's not the conniving whore I've always assumed she would be. Everything she's done, no matter how fucked up and twisted, has been to try and protect Brandt in some way. Harper may have got herself mixed up in the wrong crowd, but she isn't a nasty piece of work. She's just trying her best to survive, and I know from experience how hard that can be around creeps like Adley.

  Mal grips her by the throat and bangs her up against the wall, knocking the air out of her. He continues with his vicelike grip until her head begins to roll on his fingertips. Brandt moves to get up beside me, but I slam him back down again with a fist in his gut. Now is not the time to interfere. We'll get to that part later, when we stand half a chance of rescuing her.

  'You think I care about friends, cunt?' Mal's free hand slams against the wall beside her head. 'I rule the East End. You think I dole out drugs and run arms, but it goes much deeper than that. You have no idea what I'm involved in or how deep the hole goes. If you were a sensible girl you'd keep it that way. Now unless you want me to start chopping body parts off early, I suggest you keep that trap shut and get your ass out to my car. Remember, I still have the gun. There are so many ways I can make your life miserable, princess. I wouldn't push me. Nod if you understand.' He increases the pressure on her throat so she can do no such thing, before nodding her head for her. 'There, I knew you'd see sense.' Releasing her abruptly, she slumps to the floor gasping for air. He turns his back on her. Brandt moves to get up, and again I slam him down.

  'Sit the fuck still,' I hiss from the corner of my mouth. What's with these two? Do they both have death wishes?

  Mal turns to his mercenaries. 'Get her in the car and take her back to mine. As to these two, lock 'em up for the time being. Oh, and post a couple of armed guards. One of 'em might be harmless, but the other could be trouble, and no one wants that, do they?'

  He strides out of the room without so much as a glance at anyone, while his lackeys scramble to obey orders.

  Fucking hell. We're swapping one prison for another, and I have to confess, I'm pretty sure I'll like the other one a whole lot better than the new one I'm about to occupy. Why did I get involved in all this shit?

  Three hours later we find ourselves locked up in some tin can shed in the middle of nowhere. The guards are taking no chances with us. We're both tied hand and foot with duct tape, so
there go my filthy thoughts for the evening. I have no problem with Brandt being tied down, of course, but I take umbrage to being wrapped up in a butterfly-style cocoon. You think I'm kidding? Mal has us up in the rafters of his shed, and we're literally taped to the ladder-like rungs that line the top of the roof. If we move there's a good chance we'll hurtle to the floor, which will either entail us breaking every bone or dying instantly. Option two is preferable, but I'm not prepared to risk option one in the meantime. To make things worse, the fucker has taped us face down. A nice touch, I thought.

  'You okay?' Brandt asks as soon as the thugs have finished their handiwork and gone. Thoughtfully, Mal has not taped our mouths shut. Maybe he finds the sound of screaming comforting.

  'Yeah, I'm just peachy, thanks. Never been better, in fact. Had a top day, all things considered.' I get an eye roll for my troubles.

  'He's just fucking with us. We'll be let down, eventually.' Brandt seems resigned to his fate. I am anything but.

  'Do you think?' The sarcasm is pouring out of me, but I can't seem to stop it. I think it's the only thing keeping me sane. 'I have to agree it would probably be rather hard to kill people taped to the roof as we are. I'm pretty sure that running away after we'd done the deed would be a problem. As would holding a gun, standing upright, walking, or any number of other rather important things,' I add for good measure.

  'Are you finished?' Brandt asks, as soon as my tirade is over.

  I have to think about that. 'I'm not sure,' I confess. 'Are you going to say anything else that's completely and utterly stupid within the next ten seconds?' It's a reasonable question.

  'Fuck off. I was just being nice. What else am I supposed to do? Yell 'we're all going to die' at the top of my lungs?' Brandt glances sideways and gives me a smile. I can't return the look. I'm not a fan of heights, and though I'm not scared of them exactly, I prefer not to be implicitly at their mercy.