Francisco shouted in pain, grunting, but he just spat out the blood as José pulled him upright again. The look he gave me was a challenge, a silent promise that I wouldn’t make him crack.
Over the next thirty minutes, I hit him until he’d lost a few teeth, and his face had become a swollen, bloody mess. The hits to his sides had probably cracked a few ribs, if not straight up broken one or two by the rough sound of his breathing. Paulo had asked a few more times, but the man had only muttered curses and insults.
My knuckles were split in spots, reddened and angry, but I hit much harder than José. He didn’t have my build, my weight to put behind it. This was the kind of shit Nathan didn’t want to know about.
“Francisco…” Paulo sighed and stood. He placed a fresh glass of tequila in my hands, and I took a drink, watching the smears of blood mar the outside of the glass as I finished it off and welcomed the burn into the swirling black inside me. “You have a daughter, yes?”
Francisco jerked, looking up with his one good eye, the other already swollen shut.
“She is eleven. Very pretty, or so I’m told.” Paulo grabbed the man’s chin as his head wobbled, lifting until he met his stare. “I know you don’t want anything to happen to her… and so many bad things could happen to her. And your wife.”
“Boss!” Manuel spoke up from behind.
Carlos raised his hand fast. “Cállate, Manuel,” he ordered, jaw clenched tight as he told his man to shut up. He watched Francisco with empty eyes as the man shook his head over and over, pulling free of Paulo’s grip.
“No, por favor, don’t hurt them. It was me, it was.” Garbled words, but we all heard them.
Paulo wiped his bloody fingers on the traitor’s shirt and stepped back, locking those coal black eyes on me as he nodded slightly. Then he returned to his seat, and I hit Francisco hard. He almost fell out of the chair, would have if José hadn’t held him in place.
“See?” Paulo said. “He stole from me, and from you, Carlos.”
“Don’t hurt my little girl…” Francisco’s words were slurred, altered by the mess that his mouth had become. “Or Anna, por favor.”
“Where is the money?” Carlos asked, a coldness to his tone that made me aware of how he would have handled the situation if he had truly known.
“It’s gone. I—” Groaning, sloppily spitting out more blood and drool, he let out a pathetic sound. “I sent it to my mamá in Cuba. She needed it, boss. Was going to lose her house. Carlos, por favor, give me a chance. I’ll get you the money back. I’ll do whatever you want!”
Ending on a shout, it was clear he was looking past me to Paulo now, pleading with the man really in charge. I set the blood smeared glass on the table and shook out my hands, waiting for Paulo’s order.
“If that’s true, I understand why you did it, Francisco.” Paulo sounded empathetic, which was impossible. It was fake, a blatant lie, but the poor fucking idiot in front of me still looked up with hope in his good eye. “But you can’t steal from me. The others need to know that. Do you understand?”
I watched as the reality of death settled inside him, for a moment he cried, cursing as he slammed his shoe onto the smooth, black concrete under him. Then he nodded, tongue running over his split lip. “Si, I understand. Just… just please don’t hurt my family. They didn’t know, I swear, they didn’t know, patrón.”
“Twenty-three thousand dollars’ worth of product, Francisco.” Paulo sighed. “I may have let you live for less, let you earn it back, but this I cannot forgive. You have a choice to make.”
I glanced up at José to see him grinning, holding Francisco’s head up as he twisted in the handcuffs. I should have felt something, but all I could feel was the cold darkness that filled me up. The emptiness that told me what was coming before Paulo even spoke.
“You can choose death, and Andre will shoot you in the stomach. Let you bleed out on the floor here in front of Carlos and the others. It will be very painful, cabrón.” Paulo took a slow breath. “Or, you can choose to sell Anna and Luisa to me, and I will make my money back that way. I’m assuming Luisa is still young enough to be a virgin, yes?”
Francisco stiffened, rage making him jerk against José’s hold on him, but he was too weak to get out of the chair. “Don’t touch them!” he shouted, breaths strained from the pain of his ribs and the blood in his mouth.
“Your choice?” Paulo asked, voice as calm and steady as ever.
There was a low whining groan from the man, and José let him buckle forward as he started crying. Almost everyone broke at the end. I could count on one hand the number of men who had faced death without pleading, without crying. Most of those didn’t have a family though.
Francisco sniffed hard, sucking his bloodied lip between his teeth for a moment before he forced himself upright and stared at Carlos. “I’m sorry, boss. I swear, I never meant for this to happen. Please, por favor, tell Anna I’m sorry. Don’t tell her what I did. Let her think it was an accident, something Luisa can live with.”
“I will, but I will not support them for you. You betrayed me, traidor.” Traitor. Carlos’ tone was cold, and I knew I should feel for the woman and her child, but I was too far in to react like a human.
“Andre,” Paulo said my name, and it was an order. An order to kill. Not the first time, and not the last. For some reason, as I drew my gun, I saw Nicky in my head. I couldn’t refuse. Refusal would mean death for me, and then they’d have her. All of them.
I’d never had something to live for before, but the idea of going back to her, of hearing her cries against my ear as I buried my cock inside her… that was worth living for. Worth killing for. What was one more mark on my ruined soul anyway?
I pointed the gun at his stomach, just like Paulo wanted, and flipped the safety off. Francisco drew himself up as much as he could, fighting the pain in his broken ribs, and I stared into his bloodied, swollen face — and pulled the trigger.
The boom of the shot echoed off the high ceilings and all that concrete, and there were several low sounds from Carlos’ men. José showed no expression, he just let him go, let him tumble from the chair to the floor as Francisco curled around the wound, groaning in pain.
“I can trust that there will be no further issues with the numbers, Carlos.” Paulo was staring at the other man whose eyes were glued to the dying man on the floor.
“There will be no issues, patrón. I will monitor it personally from now on.”
“Bueno.” Clapping his hands together, Paulo turned with that cold smile and nodded. “Thank you for the tequila. I will leave you to decide what to do with the body.”
Paulo walked around Francisco’s writhing form, and José fell into step beside him, but I kept my gun out, walking backwards until I was sure Paulo was securely in the hall. Only then did I turn and catch up with them, exiting out the back into the sweltering midday heat.
The SUV was boiling when we climbed inside, the leather hot enough to bleed through the denim of my jeans, and I felt sweat breaking out all over my skin. None of it could touch the cold core inside me though, that empty black that filled me as I added another death to the tainted weight of my soul.
José cranked the air conditioning as we settled into our seats, and I dragged the seatbelt across me on automatic. Barely aware of the low words he said as he guided us around the end of the alley and out the other side. There was an exit. Bright sunlight, blue skies, and traffic.
“Gracias, cuadro. You did well.” Paulo spoke low, nodding at me with a slight smile. “I knew I brought the right men to deal with this issue.”
“De nada, jefe,” I replied. It’s nothing. Nothing to beat a man, nothing to take a life. What bothered me more than anything was that I wasn’t sure if I felt any guilt or remorse at all, or if I was just thinking of how I should feel something. Francisco would be dead soon. Carlos wouldn’t dare seek medical attention for him, and he’d probably end up in the swamps, or the gulf — but as I clenched my bloo
dy fists, I felt nothing. Nothing except an urge to get my hands on Nicky again, so that I could feel something as I fucked her. Something to placate the darkness, and she was innocent enough to be the perfect outlet for all of the evil inside me.
Eleven
Nicky
I was lost in the magical world of Harry Potter when I heard a heavy fist on the door, and my stomach dropped. Had Diego come back? Sitting up on Andre’s bed, my heart pounded against the inside of my chest at a much more rapid pace than the second round of knocks.
“Nicky, open the door.” It was Andre’s voice, and I shoved a scrap of paper I’d found into the book to mark my place and left it on the bedside table before moving to the door. I fumbled with shaking hands through the locks, but finally opened it and he pushed both me and the door aside as he walked in. I caught the masculine scent of sweat and the outside as he brushed past, but managed to shut the door tight as soon as he was inside. Redoing all of the locks.
“What happened?” I asked, but Andre was silent. Removing his guns to set them on the top of the dresser beside his closet. Then the jacket came off, and then the holster thing that wrapped across his back and chest to keep the guns against his ribs. “Andre?”
When he turned around, I stumbled backward until my legs hit the bed behind me. He looked like he had the day before, when I was caught in that fucking chair, waiting for Paulo to decide my fate. Empty, dark brown eyes, a frightening expression on his face that sent fear thrumming through me.
He didn’t look human.
“Andre?” I repeated, voice wavering, and he stalked forward. So tall, so broad, and when he grabbed onto my waist I flinched. He squeezed hard, pinching my skin before he ripped my shirt over my head, forcing me to duck my head through the hole as he tossed it aside. I couldn’t even react because his hands were already at my shorts, the button popped free and the zipper down. Then he grabbed me under the arms and tossed me onto the bed hard so he could roughly yank the shorts free.
Fuck. What was wrong with him?
I was afraid. No other reaction was really appropriate as he planted one knee on the end of the bed, and I scrambled backward but he caught my ankle and yanked me flat. He was still clothed, sweaty and silent and terrifying. “Don’t hurt me,” I whispered.
Something in his expression faltered, but then his eyes dropped to my chest and he grabbed my shoulder to jerk me onto my side so he could undo the clasp of my bra. He tossed it aside, immediately palming my breasts as he straddled one of my thighs. Thumbs rolling over my nipples, I could barely process that they were already hard and peaked before I felt him tighten his grip and pinch them both.
“FUCK!” I screamed, whimpering as the pain shot like bolts of lightning through my breasts, forcing my back to arch in an effort to ease the strain. But Andre didn’t back off, he twisted them further and I felt tears in my eyes, grabbing onto his arms and digging my nails in as if it would make him stop.
Leaning over me, he bit down on my shoulder and I screamed again, pleading with him to stop, pushing at his ribs as he released my tender nipples — and then he had both his legs between mine. Spreading me, digging his knees into my thighs so I had no way to stop him, but I could barely focus as his teeth pressed in harder.
“Please, please, please!” I begged, whining when he finally took a breath and released me, his dark eyes staring at the place his mouth had just been. Then he looked between us, and he growled like an animal as he grabbed my panties, tearing the pale blue fabric, biceps bulging from the effort. The fabric burned against my hips as he ripped it, yanking the remnants out from under me so he could throw them aside. “Andre?”
His name didn’t seem to affect him at all as he slid his fingers between my legs, forcing two of them into me where I wasn’t wet in the least. I cried out and lifted my hips off the bed, but he ran his thumb over my clit as his mouth moved to my breast, sucking on the tender bud as he stroked me below. For a minute, every shift of his fingers seemed to burn and ache, and then my body finally caught up, lubricating around his harsh touch. There was pleasure and pain as he opened me up, warming my body for what I knew would come next. It was almost cruel how deft his touch was, the way his thumb swirled over my clit, his mouth sucking and nipping at my breast, sending zings of sensation through my body.
I wanted to fight, and I didn’t. I wanted to give in, and I wanted him to take me by force.
Thought was something I couldn’t effectively manage as he stroked his fingers in and out, wetting them as I grew slick, as my whimpers turned to moans. Then he grabbed my thighs and bent them towards my chest, staring down at my open pussy with the look of a desperate, dangerous man.
I was afraid to speak, afraid to struggle against his strength as he tucked my heels over his shoulders and opened his jeans to shove the fabric out of the way and free his cock. I had stared yesterday, but in this position he somehow seemed larger, especially as he moved closer to my entrance, erection bobbing at his hips. Watching him wrap one fist around it, I opened my mouth to argue, but he lined up and drove home hard, stealing the words away as I cried out.
It was painful, the sudden, brutal stretch as he bottomed out in one thrust. With my body bent he slammed even deeper on his second drive, and I felt the sharp ache as he hit my cervix, tears burning my eyes. “Please,” I whimpered, reaching past my legs to dig my nails into his arms, but there was no reaction.
Andre braced his hands on either side of my ribs, folding me as he used every inch of power in his body to fuck me. It hurt, it felt good, and I couldn’t think straight as he continued to move. My breaths were short, a consequence of my ribs being compressed, and that wasn’t helping the dizzying effects of his thrusts. Pleasure blurred the aches and pains, made me forget the threat of the man above me as I sank into it.
Soon, I was crying out, moaning, saying his name even though I knew this was wrong. Everything about this situation was wrong. This house, the fact that he’d paid for me, the fact that… “Condom!” I shouted as his breaths shortened and my mind cleared enough for me to remember that he hadn’t put one on as he’d climbed atop me.
That seemed to make him shudder, and he slammed deep once more and growled, a low, feral noise that made me whimper. When he spit on his fingers, I was confused for half a second, until he pulled out and began to rub my asshole.
“NO!” My scream didn’t mean anything, especially when I tried to twist free of him, and his other hand dug furrows into my thigh, painfully gripping me as he bent me further.
He shoved two fingers deep in my pussy, gliding along my g-spot as I shuddered, and then he pulled back to press one of them against my ass. I squirmed, flexed my legs to try and force him back, but he dropped his body weight against me and I buckled just as his finger forced past my tight ring.
“AH! DON’T!” The shock was worse than the pain, but he only stroked a few times before his second finger was working its way inside my ass, and the dull ache spread. My quiet pleas ignored by the monster above me.
Shifting again, he pulled his fingers free and planted that hand against the bed so he could guide his cock to me with the other. I shook my head, I tried to struggle, to fight as he pushed himself against the ring of muscle — but he was too strong. With a sharp pain he was inside me, sinking deeper as he groaned above me, and I couldn’t speak, couldn’t scream as the burn intensified. “Yessss,” he growled as his hips met my ass.
He was inside me, fucking my ass, and I whimpered because I’d only tried anal once before with a boyfriend. It hadn’t gone well, I’d cried and made him stop, but that wasn’t an option now. Andre wasn’t going to back down. His hips pulled back, and then slammed forward, making me squeak. Don’t… I wanted to tell him to stop. I’d rather have him come inside me than this, but I couldn’t get the words past my lips.
Nothing was working, nothing except my body as it fired the sensations of pain and fullness as he stretched my ass with each new thrust.
* * *
> Andre
I heard her scream, but surged forward anyways. Her ass was so tight, only growing tighter with each pain-filled cry, and I didn’t even have to hold her down. The girl’s calves were over my shoulders, pinned in place by my weight, by each thrust as I forced my way into her ass.
Delirium.
I wasn’t thinking straight, wasn’t thinking clearly at all. She’d been the one to shout out about the condom, and it had been the first rational thought I’d had since she’d opened the door and I’d seen her again. Immediately, I’d felt the urge to take her, possess her, but the weight of the guns and the extra clips had held me back. I needed them off, I didn’t want to kill her. I’d done enough killing, I needed something else.
Escape. Control. Satisfaction.
That’s what her body was — satisfying. As I sank in, I felt the darkness purr. It swelled, blocking out anything resembling morality. I’d tried to warm her up, but my tingling balls and aching cock were impatient. The darkness was hungry, and I knew I’d started fucking her ass before she was ready, but a part of me reveled in the pained expression on her face. The quiet squeaks of agony as her nails bit into my arms, digging in, making me want to slam into her harder. So, I did, and she screamed.
Beautiful. Belleza.
There would be no doubts in anyone listening in the house, she’d screamed loud enough for everyone to hear, and I slid back and forward again just to replicate it, but she only whimpered. Tears tracking across her nose with her head turned to the side.
This is wrong.
The black inside me rumbled, waves crashing, and I leaned down to kiss her throat, keeping still inside her as I nipped and licked my way to her shoulder and then to her breast. Sucking her nipple into my mouth, flicking the hard bud and drawing on it until she squeezed my cock and moaned softly. My hips jerked against her ass on instinct, and she yelped, but I shifted my weight to one hand so I could reach between us and find her clit. It took me a few rubs before I felt the hardened nub, but the bucking of her body confirmed I’d hit the right spot and I honed in on it. Switching to her other breast as I worked her and continued to move my hips, feeling the tight grip of her ass as she whimpered and started to moan.
IMPERFECT MONSTER Page 9
