Tied Down

by Vanessa Waltz

  “I’m not going to have a bacon-flavored cake at my wedding.”

  “Just try it!”

  “Fine!”

  She opens her mouth and I slide the piece inside, unable not to think of blowjobs when I see her throat moving as she swallows.

  Fuck, not now.

  “Yeah, it’s good, but I’m still not having a bacon cake.”

  After all the cakes are laid out, the owner stands up. “I just have a bit of paperwork to do in the back, so I’ll let you guys try the cakes while I do that.”

  Good, get out of here.

  Her heels click on the tiled floor as she disappears behind the glass counter and through an office door. I slide my arm over her shoulders and my fingers disappear into her hair.

  “Whichever one you like, we’ll get.”

  Seized by a sudden desire, I bend over her chair and kiss her head.

  Maya’s face flushes with pleasure. “No, you have to help me choose. Try some of these.”

  She takes a few plates and drops them in front of me. I’m really not into sweets, but I try them anyway. There’s so much shit I have to do, but pleasing my future wife comes first.

  “They’re all good.”

  “I would have thought a boss would be more decisive.”

  Sensing that tone in her voice, I take a handful of her blouse and pull her toward me. “I am about things that matter.”

  Earlier this morning we went to the doctor, who gave us the baby’s due date and a list of things to do. I couldn’t believe how happy she looked.

  “All these details matter, Johnny.”

  “Then you decide. I’ll marry you if there’s a fucking maple-bacon wedding cake, I don’t care.”

  A slow smile spreads across her face, and then she picks up a small piece of strawberry cake with her fingers and holds it against my mouth.

  The feeling of her fingers on my lips makes blood rush to my cock. It swells and hardens into a rock and I don’t know why, except that this woman gets me so fucking worked up that I feel like a teenager again, getting hard-ons in the middle of a bakery. I swallow the piece of cake without tasting it, and then I grab her wrist, sucking every clinging bit of sweetness from her fingers. A blush rises in her cheeks.

  I slide her fingers out of my mouth, digging my hand into her hair as I crush her soft lips against mine. My heart leaps in my chest. I sweep my tongue across her sweetness and stand up, pinning her against the wall. Her stomach twitches when I slide my hand underneath her shirt and she gasps into my mouth.

  “You feel how fucking hard I am?”

  “We’re in a bakery!”

  It doesn’t matter where we are.

  “I don’t care. I want you.”

  “She’s going to come out!”

  The part of my brain that listens to reason is turned off. She sighs when I kiss a trail down her jaw to her neck, using my tongue to suck. She wears a boat-neck t-shirt, which teases at a hint of cleavage. I bend my head over it and suck, biting hard when she digs her fingers into my scalp.

  “Did you pick something?”

  I almost laugh at Maya’s horrified face as the cheery voice echoes loudly in the bakery. She pushes my chest desperately and I sit back down, pulling Maya onto my lap so she can feel how hard I still am. My cock rides against her ass as the baker walks in the room with a big smile on her face for the happy couple.

  “I don’t know. Maya?”

  “I-I think we need a bit more time to decide.”

  My smile is buried in the back of her head.

  A low series of beeps plays in the background as I gaze down at a white hospital bed holding a man so badly beaten that only a few square inches of his face are visible. Wedding cakes and this in one day. I can’t take this shit.

  “They found him in the street, outside Napoletana.”

  Tommy, one of my newer soldiers, grips the railing of the hospital bed and bares his teeth. “I couldn’t fucking do anything. There were too many witnesses, John.”

  My icy tone hits the air. “What happened?”

  “I was still inside the restaurant, getting the money. I saw six of them drive up on bikes. He ran across the street and they caught up to him.”

  That is no fucking excuse for letting this happen to one of our own. “You didn’t do anything to stop it?”

  His voice rises from the judgment in my tone. “I was outnumbered and the cops were on top of them two minutes later. Like I said, there were too many witnesses.”

  His fingers whiten around the railing as I walk closer to him. “So you let those assholes get away with this?”

  Tommy’s hazel eyes shine as a grim smile stretches his mouth. “Not all of them.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  I turn around as he strides past me, closing the door to the room as he faces me with an ear-to-ear, hair-raising grin.

  “I got one of them. Pulled him right off his bike and bashed his head in—”

  “Why the fuck didn’t you just say so?”

  Tommy inches closer and bows his head to my ear. “He’s in the trunk of my car.”

  Jesus fucking Christ. This is the problem with having too many hotheaded type A assholes working for you. They make stupid decisions. I can’t believe this shit. I want to smack him around—the stupid fuck.

  “Are you out of your mind?”

  “He’s still alive,” he says in an undertone. “We can get information from him.”

  Tommy’s new, but he came to me straight from New York. He was no longer welcome there after killing two made guys. Vincent always sang praises for him. Apparently he was quite effective at getting information out of people.

  I don’t trust torture. People will say anything when there’s a pair of pliers and a blowtorch in their face.

  “I want to see him.”

  Sal’s voice cuts through. “Johnny, we can’t let this slide.”

  “I’ve something in mind.”

  The idea grows in my head, festering like an infected wound, coursing vengeance through my veins.

  Carlos knows damn well that I would have been well within my rights to kill him, but I didn’t. I spared his worthless life.

  You’re becoming weak.

  Not after tonight.

  The air feels thick, almost as if it’s soaked with blood.

  He lies like a slab of meat in the backroom of a deli where we play poker, sometimes. The wooden table slowly soaks with his blood as Tommy, that fucking maniac, carves him up like a turkey.

  The boy screams, and the sound punctures my ear. Fucking loud. Tommy barely flinches. He moves his knife over the biker’s skin like an artist. A stroke here, digging it in the ribs there. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

  I place my hands on the edge of that blood-soaked table and look into his eyes, which are very blue. “We can end it now, if you want.”

  “What do you want? I don’t know anything!”

  He’s a younger guy than the rest of the bikers I know. Tears well up in his eyes and spill down his dirty cheeks, and Maya’s face flashes in my mind.

  It’s the way it is. They fucked up one of my men, I kill one of theirs.

  I didn’t get to be the boss by playing fair. I need to know what Carlos is planning, to protect the family. To protect her.

  Another loud scream punches my head as Tommy twists his knife, his face impassive as the boy’s face streams with tears. He’s ready to crack. I can see his sanity splintering in his eyes like broken glass.

  “He knows about the airport heist!”

  His chest heaves and his eyes go dark as if he immediately regrets what he said.

  A thrill shoots into my heart. “What? What the fuck did you say?”

  His face screws up in pain. “He knows—someone inside told him that you’re planning something.”

  My insides turn to ice as Tommy shares a worried look with me. Then I seize one of the knives on his tray and wrench that fucker’s hair, the tip of the b
lade right next to his eyeballs.

  “I’ll take your fucking eyes out if you lie to me.”

  “I swear to Christ, I’m not lying. He wants you dead.”

  “Saint sacrament de tabarnak de marde!” I slam the knife back on the table and try to keep my emotions in check. All year—all fucking year I’ve been developing this thing. It’s the scam of all scams. The biggest in Canada’s history. And Carlos fucking Lemyre knows about it.

  “He thinks he can fuck with me?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Tommy looks at the boy and then back at me with a firm nod. He’s telling the truth.

  Then I have no more use for him.

  I don’t even bother lowering my voice. “Kill him, but don’t get rid of his body. I need it.”

  I have a plan in mind, and I won’t deny that it turns my stomach a little, but it needs to be done.

  “NO! PLEASE, DON’T!”

  Tommy nods in affirmation and quickly ends his screaming with a slice. The boy’s gurgling gasps hit me harder than the screaming, and I walk out of the room, breathing hard. I have a fucking headache.

  This cannot be fucking happening to me right now. Millions of dollars are at stake.

  One crisis at a time.

  Send Les Diables a message they’ll never forget.

  “It’s just a dead guy, for fuck’s sake.”

  François and Chris give me a look as they hesitate in between grabbing both rigid arms and hoisting the body onto the truck.

  “Are you sure about this?”

  That’s the second time he’s questioned me in front of my other men. He drops the man’s arm as I approach him, energy seething through my body. He can probably see how pissed I am.

  “Yes, I’m fucking sure, and I don’t remember having to explain myself to any of you. I’m the fucking boss. Shut up and do as you’re told.”

  We’re right in the middle of biker territory, and I don’t have time for this shit.

  “Put his fucking body on the car.”

  They jump at the sound of my voice and hoist the broken body over the car’s windshield. The dead body’s arms splay over the windshield like a cross. Chris winds ropes around his wrist and wraps it inside the car. The dead biker’s head lolls onto his shoulder as his other wrist is tied.

  “Jesus Christ,” Tommy says as he stares at it, hands deep in his pockets.

  “The fucking cocksucker deserved it.”

  We’re down the hill from the fortress in Sorel-Tracy, but I’m going to ride with them all the way to the top.

  Tommy opens the door to the truck as Chris prepares to light the fuses leading to the barrels of gasoline.

  “This is so fucking dangerous. I can’t believe I agreed to do this shit.”

  The spark flies and Chris runs to our car, diving behind the wheel as I slide into the passenger seat.

  “Go!”

  The truck lights up like a bonfire, and Tommy floors it for the twenty or so seconds that it takes to reach the fortress. The whole thing explodes into a bright fireball as Tommy crashes it right into the gates, denting them as the blaze quickly rises, crawling up the walls of the fortress.

  In all my life, I’ve never done something so fucked up. It’s a bright, furious sign. A warning to those fucking jerkoffs.

  Fuck with me, and I’ll destroy you.

  The orange flames quickly crawl over the body sprawled on the windshield, and I hear shouts from inside the compound, its lights flickering on as the guards scream for fire extinguishers. Fucking dumbass.

  The second gallon of gasoline explodes, rocking the ground as Tommy stumbles toward us, hidden in the dark. He coughs as he approaches me.

  “You all right?”

  “Yeah—just the gasoline.”

  “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  I don’t give a shit if the bikers see me. Let them watch. They’ll know exactly who sent what was left of their patched member, Julien.

  I slide inside the backseat of my car with Tommy, and the other men start their cars, rolling down the hill.

  “Take me home, Chris.”

  He starts the car, the orange ball burning in his windshield mirror.

  “Do you think they’ll fuck off after this?”

  My honest opinion is no, but sometimes you have to send a message to keep appearances. This will escalate things.

  “If they’re dumb enough to retaliate after this, I’ll hit them harder. As many times as it takes.”

  Tommy regards me thoughtfully, nodding, talking to me in that New York accent that I hate. “Making a move on their home was pretty ballsy.”

  “Do you have something you want to say?”

  My icy tone doesn’t seem to deter him.

  “We shouldn’t have hit them where their families live.”

  “I hit the fucking gate.”

  “They won’t see the distinction. To be honest, John, with all the risk we’re taking with this airport heist, why do this?”

  “We’re up against one of the biggest groups of organized crime besides us. We needed to make a bold statement.”

  “After what that kid said, can we still go through with the heist?”

  I don’t even want to think of the possibility of a year’s worth of work gone down the drain.

  “We need to get rid of the people he has on the inside.”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  Now that we’re no longer allied, I don’t give a fuck about disposing of any of his people.

  “I’m getting married next week.”

  “Jesus.”

  Chris stops in front of my apartment complex and I get out of the car. The walk to the elevator and the ride up doesn’t seem to happen. It’s been a long fucking day, but my muscles are tense when I walk into the apartment. The flames still burn on the backs of my eyelids. I feel the heat when I enter my apartment and swiftly lock it behind me. The television blares in the living room and I grit my teeth against it. I wanted to come home to peace and quiet, but she’s watching some kind of news channel. Fuck, I don’t even give it a second thought.

  Then I see bright-orange colors that light up the whole screen. Maya’s face is illuminated by it. She turns around, her beautiful face electrified.

  “My home’s on fire.”

  Fuck.

  Chapter Ten

  Maya

  “On fire? What are you talking about?”

  He shrugs off his jacket and lazily hangs it on a chair, and then he loosens his tie and tears the first few buttons of his shirt, clearly eager to get rid of his clothes.

  I try to shrug off my fear, looking at the TV anxiously. “The news said there was a fire at the fortress in Sorel-Tracy. They didn’t say how bad it was.”

  “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

  A sudden suspicion hits me as he turns away.

  But those fluttering butterfly feelings kick up in my chest when he faces me again and gives me that I’m-tired-but-I’m-happy-to-see-you smile. He walks around the couch and sits down next to me. His lips briefly press against the side of my head, and I catch a strange whiff.

  Gasoline.

  My insides feel like steel.

  “How was your day?”

  “Eh, you know. Usual shit.”

  No, I don’t. That’s why I’m asking.

  “You?”

  I shrug again, still preoccupied with the TV.

  His fingers graze my shoulder as the towel slips down, and I slide over his lap, linking my hands around his neck. The heat of his skin glows. I always get a strange feeling when I look into his eyes. Then he slides his touch across my back and a swooping sensation hits my stomach.

  God, I’m falling for him, aren’t I?

  Is it one sided?

  I rest my head into the crook of his shoulder, watching the screen as it changes back to the news program. A marquee scrolls on the screen: SYMBOL OF BIKER POWER UP IN FLAMES.

  “Holy shit!”

  I try to s
tand from his lap as images of bright-orange flames surrounding my home burn on the dark screen. Jesus Christ.

  “Good evening. Earlier tonight, a fire broke out at the gates of the notorious Sorel-Tracy fortress. Firemen are currently on site, fighting the fire. Reports indicate at least one casualty—”

  “I need to leave.”

  I stand up from the couch, ripping his hands from my waist. I pat my jeans. Where are my things? My wallet—

  “No, you don’t.”

  Johnny’s clipped voice sends a wave of fury crashing through me. I’ve listened to his fucking demands, even the most outrageous ones that I never thought I’d go through, but not this one.

  I just can’t fucking do it.

  I turn around, looking at him calmly seated on the couch.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I said, you’re not going anywhere.”

  “Why is that?”

  He grits his teeth.

  “Because it’s been a long fucking night, and I’m tired.”

  “I’ll go—you stay here.”

  “No.”

  I hate that fucking word.

  Then Johnny stands up from the couch. I belly up to my fiancé, who towers over me, sending sparks through his unyielding gaze.

  “I’d like to see you stop me.”

  “Easy.”

  His hands snap around my wrists and then suddenly I’m being dragged to the bedroom. My heels dig in the floor, but it’s so smooth that I fall down.

  “What the fuck are you doing? Let me go!”

  “I’m in no mood for this right now. I’m fucking exhausted.”

  “My mother’s in there, you piece of shit!”

  He yanks me upright so hard that I bounce off his chest. His body seethes with barely restrained energy. “I’m getting really tired of this name-calling shit. If you do it again, I’ll gag you.”

  “You can’t just expect me to stay here while my home is in flames!”

  “This is your home.”

  “Do you care nothing for me?”

  He softens, running one hand through his hair. “Baby, she’s fine. It looks like it was just the outside structure.”

  “I know you had something to do with this!”

  There it is, finally. Johnny gives me a black look as my voice rings down the hall.