VICIOUS MEN: THE COMPLETE VICIOUS CITY COLLECTION

by Renard, Loki

  Vicious strides in. I look up, almost feeling guilty for being so affected. His sleeves are down again, buttoned. Those powerful arms are hidden beneath the white fabric. He looks at me, those green eyes searching my face. God, both these men make me feel like I am under a microscope..

  “Possessive already?” Slick laughs. “Wow.”

  Vicious shoots a look at him, then back at me. “It’s getting late,” he says. “You should go to bed.”

  “It’s like six o’clock in the evening. And I should go home, not to bed.”

  “Enough,” he snaps. “I am not going to argue this with you, Kitty. I’ve made my decision. You will work for me, and that’s the end of it. Any more argument and I’ll let Slick make an example of you.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means I’ll take off my belt and see how that pretty skin colors up,” Slick smiles at me.

  Goddamn. Is every male in Vicious’ circle somehow kinky? Probably. Probably goes in hand with being ruthless, criminal, and carnal. These aren’t men who care about the rules of society, so why would they care about the rules surrounding anything else.

  I sit there, clutching my beer like a lifeline, knowing I am going to have to give in to his demand and hating the fact that’s the case. I have no power here, and truth be told, he’s being nice about this. Vicious could have put a gun to my head and told me I was going to work for him. Instead it’s a whip and a belt and a beer. This is probably his idea of being sweet.

  Sipping at the bottle, I stay silent. There’s no real reply to what Slick just said. I can’t tell him he won’t beat me, that’s just another form of invitation.

  “Bedroom is that way,” Vicious points to a door.

  “Okay. Cool.”

  His dark brow rises just a fraction and I realize it’s not a suggestion. This motherfucker is sending me to bed.

  I don’t know what to do. I can’t let him do this. He’s already pushing me to my limits. But what choice do I have? Vicious doesn’t care what I want. He just wants me to be a good, obedient, little captive.

  Putting the beer down on the table, I shrug as if I don’t care, get up and go to the door he pointed out. I can feel two pairs of very male eyes on me as I walk. I try not to hunch my shoulders to make myself as small as I feel right now.

  It’s a relief when I open the door and close it behind me. I suck what feels like a hit of fresh air into my lungs. My god. I’m shaking. There’s a tremor in my hands and my knees, an excitement at what is and what could be. They can’t know it, but my body and mind are responding to them in every single way they shouldn’t.

  I take a second to look around the room. It’s a bedroom. Pretty bland really. White walls. White linen. It has a temporary sense to it, like a hotel room might, except no effort whatsoever has gone into making it feel homey. There’s no art on the walls. There is a window though.

  I cross to it, but I’m not surprised when it doesn’t open. Evil masterminds don’t have windows you can just climb out of. The view isn’t great either.

  I fish my phone out of the hidden pocket in my leggings. I’m surprised he let me keep this, as well as the slim case which contains my bank cards and ID. That was kind of a sloppy mistake. I could call for help. I stare at the screen, wondering who to reach out to. Nobody I know is going to cross Vicious, not for me.

  A small laugh escapes me as I realize he didn’t need to take my phone. There’s nobody to call. But there is one person who will be interested in the news, and maybe she can help.

  So. Uh. You’ll never guess where I am.

  B: Where?

  Vicious’ apartment. One of them, anyway.

  B: Bitch. No way. I thought you didn’t like him?

  I don’t. He’s fucking holding me captive. He wants me to work for him.

  B: You lucky bitch.

  I crack a smile, even though this isn’t funny. All Blaze can think about is how much she’d like to be here.

  Lucky? He whipped me when I refused.

  B: OMG.

  Seriously, Blaze. He has me locked up in a room. This isn’t cool.

  B: I’m coming. Where are you?

  I can’t get out the window, but I can see the world outside the window.

  Scorpio Drive. It’s on the corner. I’m third floor up. Window right at the edge of the building.

  I don’t get a response. Now I’m nervous. I don’t really expect her to come and break me out, but I guess that’s what best friends are for. The question is, how? It would be best to get out quietly, but I’m guessing that’s not Blaze’s plan. She’s kind of audacious. Has almost been caught several times because she just can’t help doing things in what she calls ‘style’.

  Fifteen minutes later, the fire alarm goes off. Oldie, but a goodie. She must have pulled the alarm below. Perfect.

  I look out the window to see if there’s any sign of her or her car. I don’t see either. But I do see something dark gray curling up the side of the building. Smoke.

  Fuck. That is Blaze all over. No point setting an alarm off when you can just set a fire.

  “Alright,” Vicious says, coming in. “We need to get out of here. Someone in another apartment has burned dinner or similar. We’ve had it for tens of thousands of years, but apparently, fire is a little too advanced for some humans.”

  He’s snarky.

  He has no idea.

  Oh this is fucking awesome.

  He leads me out of the apartment. We take a stairwell, not the elevator. Turns out that is located in what I figured was probably a closet or something. Vicious, Slick and I jog down what seems to be a private staircase. I really hope Blaze has this covered. If she’s waiting anywhere else, this is all going to be for nothing.

  “Oh my god it’s you!” Blaze lets out a fangirl squeal as we emerge into the parking garage below the building. She sounds like a groupie, though I have to say the gun in her hand adds a certain gravitas.

  Vicious stops, his hand wrapped around my upper arm.

  “Sorry,” he says. “No time for autographs today.”

  “Eh, hold up,” Blaze says, cocking the gun. “I’m here for the blonde.”

  Vicious looks at me. I look back at him, trying to appear innocent. If this goes sideways, he is going to… god, I don’t even know what he’s going to do, but I’m betting it will involve leather and pain.

  “We’re in a hurry here,” Vicious says, speaking casually. He barely seems to notice the gun.

  “Yeah, that’s my girl though,” she cocks her head. “So imma have you let her go, and you and I can talk work later, big boy.” She gives him a wink.

  “Work?”

  “She doesn’t want to work with you, but I do.” Blaze gives him a big smile. She’s cute, charming, and most men fall at her feet. Not this one though.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?” There’s a slight pout on her lips now, like he just told her she couldn’t have a puppy. “I’m just as good as she is. Haven’t you heard of me?”

  “Oh, I’ve heard of you Ms. Blaze.”

  The smile is back, bigger than ever. It fades pretty quickly when Vicious starts tearing into her.

  “I’m not working with you because you’re reckless,” he snaps, lecturing her like a little girl. “You’ve called half the city’s emergency services down on this place, including the police, and now you’re waving a gun around.” He turns his head to Slick. “Deal with her, would you?”

  “Sure.”

  Slick steps forward. Blaze has a choice to make. She can keep the gun on Vicious and hope to get me, or turn it on the man coming for her. It’s a real testament to her character that she keeps it locked on Vicious. She’s a good friend, but that decision fucks her. Slick steps around her, whips the pistol out of her grasp and yanks her arm behind her back, putting her in a submission hold.

  “Let’s take them both,” Vicious says. “I don’t have time to sort this out and I don’t want that one ru
nning around causing more trouble.”

  Blaze and I are both put into the back of his white SUV. Slick and Vicious sit up front. We sit in the back with the child locks on so we can’t open the doors from the inside.

  “Sorry, girl,” she says. The smile on her face says she’s not sorry at all. She’s riding with the man of her dreams up front. I’m the only one who really wants out of here. It occurs to me that this wasn’t a rescue attempt. This was a dramatic attempt at getting a date, but unlike Blaze, I can already tell Vicious isn’t interested.

  “Back up location,” Vicious says to Slick. “Search them both when we get there.”

  * * *

  The back up location is a central city high rise with plenty of formal security. It’s the sort of place celebrities live when they’re in town for the weekend, discreet, secure, and high end. Blaze can’t believe her luck. She’s practically giggling as Slick and Vicious pull us out of the car. I’m not so happy. I can see the look in Vicious’ eye. He’s not pleased, and when a man like him is displeased, everyone needs to watch out.

  Not a word is said as we’re taken up through a discreetly placed elevator, all the way to floor thirteen.

  The suite is much nicer than the apartment Vicious said was going to be mine. I wonder if it is still there, or if it has succumbed to the flames Blaze set. Here, there’s art on the walls, what look like expensive paintings by people who have been dead for a really long time. There’s fancy decor and books and rich carpets and all the trappings of a rich man’s world.

  “Nice place,” Blaze pipes up. “I could get used to this!”

  “You’re not going to get used to it,” Vicious quips coolly. “Slick, search Ms. Blaze and then send her home.”

  “I’m not going,” she insists bravely. “You’ve got my girl and…”

  “ENOUGH!” Vicious roars the word and I feel my insides turn to jelly. Even Blaze manages to shut up, though I see the glint in her eye that tells me now she’s pissed.

  4

  Vicious

  This situation truly is playing on my very last nerve. I tried to recruit a courier and I’ve ended up with a sorority gone wrong. This is the problem dealing with young people. They have no sense of self preservation. The one who calls herself Blaze certainly doesn’t. She’s the sort of girl who ends up dead, and right now she’s really tempting fate for that to happen at my hand.

  I pride myself on a clean operation. I work in plain sight, doing my business among people who have no idea what or who I really am. But that all falls apart when reckless little girls start fires and wave firearms about. Sometimes, all it takes to bring a criminal down is a suspicious cop in the wrong place.

  “Look after Kitty,” I direct Slick, changing my orders. I’m going to take care of this personally.

  I take Blaze by the arm and march her out of the apartment, and take her back into the elevator. I’m getting this girl gone, and making sure she stays gone.

  “You’re kind of a dick, you know that?”

  “And you’re kind of two words away from a bullet between your eyes,” I growl right back.

  The threat doesn’t do much to her.

  “You brought me all the way over here just so you could have the satisfaction of throwing me out? What the fuck is up with that?”

  She has a foul mouth.

  “I brought you over here because you turned that last location into a municipal gang bang, and I didn’t have the time or the energy to lecture you there. I need you to understand I won’t tolerate interference in my organization from anybody, and that includes twenty year old girls whose favorite thing is pumpkin spice and long walks on train tracks.”

  Her jaw drops. “You’ve read my Tinder profile.”

  “I’ve read everything related to Kitty,” I say coolly. “I know her life inside out, and her friends.”

  She cocks her head, looks at me shocked. “And you still didn’t want me to work for you even after you saw how awesome I was?”

  Her charm would be disarming if I wasn’t so incredibly angry at this girl who is getting in the way of me breaking my newest courier in. I’m going to have to step things up, make sure she has no illusions as to what’s going on here.

  She snorts, and keeps talking. “You could use the services of someone like me, you know. Kitty’s good, but she gets scared and she freezes. If you need real fearless delivery, you need me.”

  That’s it. I hit the elevator stop button, I grab the girl up by the lapels of her jacket and I slam her up against the wall, my fists under her chin. This won’t hurt her, but it is scaring the shit out of her if her wide eyes are anything to go by.

  “Let’s get one thing straight,” I hiss. “I see your face again, and you’re going to wish you never set eyes on me. I will have you taken care of, girl. I will make sure you’re in no position to interfere. Your life as you know it will be over.”

  I mean every word, and she can feel it. I use the voice that comes so naturally to me whenever I have to channel evil. It reverberates through me, a darkness which is uniquely mine, drawn up through the hole where my soul should be.

  “You get it?”

  “Yeah,” she nods quickly. “I got it.”

  I release my grip and set the elevator in motion again. When we hit the bottom twenty seconds later, she can’t get out of there fast enough. She leaves walking backwards, making sure she can see me, not trusting her back to me. I stay in the elevator, my arms folded over my chest, watching her the exact same way.

  “You’re gonna regret that,” she calls out, just as the doors are closing.

  I shake my head in the privacy of the elevator as it rises again. She’s a hundred ten pounds max and she’s got more sass and fight in her than most, but I have Kitty to focus on and Blaze is nothing but a distraction.

  “Oh my god! Is she okay? Did you hurt her?”

  I enter the apartment to find a frantic Kitty throwing herself at me.

  “She’s convinced you put a bullet in her friend,” Slick explains.

  “Might have made my life easier if I had, but no, I didn’t.”

  Kitty

  My stomach churns. The second he left with Blaze, my mind flashed back to what he said earlier about not caring if it’s a woman or a man he has to kill. This is my fault. I sent her that message. I’ve put my best friend in horrible danger, and for what? I’ve known from the beginning he was going to win.

  He takes me by the upper arms and looks down into my eyes.

  “No more surprises, Kitty,” he murmurs softly. “No more calling the cheerleading squad for backup.”

  How fucking dare he. Blaze isn’t the cheerleading squad. She’s my best friend in the whole world. Probably my only friend. I’m not going to give him what he wants. I’m not going to let him chase the good out of my life and replace it with… with whatever the hell goes on with him and Slick.

  “Here’s something that shouldn’t be a surprise. I’m not going to work for you. You’re a fucking…”

  “Pick what you say next, very carefully, Kitty,” he growls. “You agreed to this. Does your word mean nothing? It doesn’t matter,” he cuts me off before I can begin to answer. “You are going to start doing as I bloody well tell you, or you’re going to find yourself in a world of hurt,” he growls. “I’ve tried to be nice about this, but…”

  “There’s no way to abduct someone and force them to work for you nicely.”

  Those emerald eyes sweep up and down my body with a hard gaze. “You’re right,” he says. “There isn’t. So I’m just going to make this as painful as it needs to be.” He looks over my head. “Hold her, Slick.”

  Slick grabs hold of my arms and pulls them behind my back. I’m about to protest when Vicious produces a butterfly knife, the blades whirling through the air as he flicks it open.

  “You agreed to work for me once…”

  “That was before you did what you did.” Vague enough to be accurate.

  “Nothing has change
d, besides, perhaps, your petulant attitude. You will agree again, Kitty, and you will pay for calling your little friend.”

  Suddenly the knife is between my thighs. I stiffen with real fear. Slick doesn’t need to hold me. I wouldn’t dare move even if I was totally unrestrained. This is Vicious at his most dangerous. I can see the anger in his eyes. I can feel the displeasure and disappointment rolling off him. He is not pleased with what I unleashed on his apartment and now I am going to pay.

  Vicious pinches a piece of material just above my clit. I gasp, but don’t dare move as he handles my body with supreme mastery and casual arrogance. Piercing through that little tent of fabric, the tip of the knife breeches the material of my leggings and panties alike, the sharp edge working on my clothing, but not me. He has an artist’s touch, perfect hand-eye coordination, which is very good news for my soft, tender pussy as the fabric is peeled away in the aftermath of the knife.

  He stops when he has opened a slit in my clothing from the front of my pussy all the way to my butt. The knife performs another spinning rotation and slips back into whatever pocket it came from. I breathe a small sigh of relief which is closely followed by a gasp as his fingers slip up between my legs in a swift slap.

  “Ow!”

  “You were a very naughty kitty,” he purrs, the warmth returning to his eyes. He likes this. He likes that I rebelled and failed. Now he can punish me, have my pussy as forfeit. I try to close my legs to prevent another sharp slap from landing against my lower lips, but Slick puts one of his feet next to my left foot, and Vicious sweeps the other even further open. They both have me, the tall man behind me with the unyielding body, and the one in front with the cruel soul.

  “You’re mine,” he tells me in no uncertain terms. “I was going to be satisfied with your work alone, but now I’m going to take more than that.”

  His palm runs back and forth along the slit of my sex. He made me cum once, but I don’t see myself orgasming again. This is too frightening and embarrassing. This is a punishment - and not of the kind it was before when he made me take his whip. Now he’s truly unhappy with me, and he’s taking it out in his own personal way.