She clearly hadn’t made use of any of the facilities here since Ren and the boys had dumped her in the cellar. She was too gaunt, too desperate, yet still with that indomitable spirit, which had first attracted him to her.
Despite her disheveled appearance and his injuries, his dick was getting harder by the minute, especially as her torn clothes afforded enticing glimpses of mocha skin he wanted to run his tongue all over. She would taste delicious, of that he was sure.
Ty loosened the hold he had on her wrists, and using just his thumbs, stroked the reddened area of skin visible under the heavy cuffs. He inwardly frowned at the unpadded cuffs. Whoever had chained her up wanted her to hurt.
“What does it matter to you if I eat or not? If I starve myself it saves you the job of killing me, after all,” she finally said. Jeanette lifted her head up in a defiant gesture, but he caught the wobble in her voice, and the glance of sheer longing she allowed herself in the direction of the steaming bowl of soup.
“I can’t stop you from starving yourself, if that’s what you want to do, but it would be a damn waste.” Her mouth fell open, and Ty bit back a laugh at her astonishment. “Susie made that soup herself, and the bread. Pissing her off is a surefire way of getting Ren on your back, and, trust me, titch, you ain’t seen his bad side yet. So, be a good girl, and eat Susie’s food. Whatever you think of Ren, me, or the boys, whatever you think happened with Myrtle, and I can assure you, you’ll have the wrong end of the stick, especially if these pictures you saw came from the source I suspect.” He paused to let his words sink in for a minute, and when she didn’t react he continued. “Susie is not to blame for any of this, so do not take it out on her.”
This time Jeanette yanked her hands out of his, and not wanting to hurt her wrists further than they were already, he let her.
“What makes her so damn special, other than the fact she sleeps with you all?”
She glared up at him, but Ty swallowed the immediate, angry retort he wanted to make, when she swayed. Instead he grasped her by the shoulders, and shoved her further up the bed, until her back rested against the headboard. He picked up the bowl, dipped the spoon inside and held it up to her mouth.
“I won’t dignify that with an answer. Eat, girl.”
Biting her lips so hard she was surely in danger of drawing blood, Jeanette shook her head.
“Suit yourself,” Ty said, and ate that mouthful himself. Her eyes flashed fire at him, and he made a big show of licking the spoon clean while making appreciative noises. When he held the filled spoon up to her lips this time, she hesitated, before shaking her head. It took three more attempts, before she swore under her breath and all but attacked the spoon he held out.
Ty murmured his approval, and his chest felt a little tighter, when she closed her eyes to savor the next mouthful.
“It’s good, huh?” he asked.
Jeanette nodded and tried to take the spoon off of him.
“No, titch, I’m feeding you. No argument. Open up.”
With a resigned sigh she complied. When the spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl, Ty handed her the hunk of bread.
He had to smile again at the way she tore bits off it and stuffed them in her mouth.
“Easy now, girl, take it slowly. You don’t want to make yourself sick. Here have a drink.”
Ty was half expecting her to kick off in protest again when he held the bottle of water to her mouth, but she dutifully sipped it, and then gave him a surprisingly timid smile, before she dropped her gaze and resumed eating the bread at a more sedate pace.
A comfortable silence fell between them, while she finished her food, and Ty took the time to study her.
She was badly in need of a shower and fresh clothes, but he still had to fight the urge to not just grab her, and fuck her senseless. His dick jerked against his zipper, in silent affirmation of those plans. He could simply do that. No one would come to her aid if she struggled, and besides he doubted she would resist him for long. That simmering attraction, the sexual chemistry which had been there from the first moment he’d touched her was still very much there. Like it or not, this woman got to him, and judging by the way her breathing sped up and she licked her lips, when his gaze came to rest on the full flesh of her mouth, he got to her just as much.
A breadcrumb stuck to her chin, just under the fleshy swell of her bottom lip, and she didn’t pull away when he reached out to flick it away. It took tremendous effort on his part to not lean in and kiss her. Instead he forced himself to let go of her soft skin, and he crossed his arms over his chest.
“So, now that you’ve eaten, and will hopefully not pass out on me, I ask you again. Why did you want the job at the club? And tell me the truth, titch.”
She blinked, threw him a glance from under her long lashes and murmured her answer.
“I was there for my sister.”
“And?” he asked.
“I wanted … needed revenge. She was killed by…” Not looking at him, Jeanette hung her head and swiped away fresh tears.
Ty’s chest ached anew at the grief he was witnessing. Lord knew he knew how much it hurt to lose a sibling. He would always miss his big brother. Sam had been the sole reason Ty had joined the army. And when the brother he’d always looked up to had been killed by a motherfucking mine, Ty would have gone stir crazy, had it not been for Ren.
He would always have the man’s back, which was why Jeanette’s next words winded him completely.
“That bastard Ren killed her. Butchered her, and I want him dead.”
She flinched as though she was expecting him to hit her when he brought a hand up to scrub his face.
“Look at me, titch.” When she shook her head he lowered his voice and grasped her chin. “I said, look at me.”
The sheer hatred burning in her dark eyes when their gazes connected was another proverbial punch to his solar plexus.
“Ren is my friend, and even if you could kill him, trying to do so would mean I will have to end you.” She gasped and tried to wrench out of his grasp, but Ty grabbed the back of her head to keep her in place instead. “As I don’t particularly like either of those scenarios, let’s explore a solution, shall we? You mentioned pictures earlier. Who gave you those?”
He tightened his hold on her hair when she hesitated, and he could tell the precise moment the fight went out of her.
Her muscles went slack, and she swallowed hard.
“I hate you.”
Ty smiled and kissed her nose. An action which made her pulse rate go into overdrive, and made him wish this conversation was behind them already.
“Of course you do, girl. Now tell me, the pictures?”
Jeanette’s sigh skittered over his jaw, and he pulled back a little, lest he gave into the instinct to kiss the frown lines of her face.
“Does it matter? I know what he did. All I want to know now is who helped him. Did you?” She looked up at him, a myriad of emotions chasing each other across her face as she studied him.
“Did I what, titch?” he asked, and she blinked away fresh tears.
“Did you have a hand in killing my sister?”
Chapter Seven
God, why had she asked that question, and did she really want the answer to it? Ty didn’t look inclined to answer her, his face once again an expressionless mask. He pulled further away, letting go of her hair in the process, and Jeanette felt the loss of his warm strength surrounding her keenly. She wrapped her arms around herself as best she could to hide the shivers, she didn’t seem able to stop. She was just so damn cold.
“Would it matter if I did?” Ty finally asked. The deep sigh which accompanied that question made her feel even more wretched. Her stomach churned, and it took every ounce of willpower she possessed to hold his gaze. From somewhere deep down inside of her she dredged up her rightful anger, and thus she managed to project her reply with the force needed to make her feelings clear.
“Of course it bloody matters. She was my siste
r, my little sister, and you lot, you…” She ran out of words, when his harsh expression softened, and something like compassion crossed his features. He reached out as though to touch her, and then balled that hand into a fist, and shook his head.
“How close were you?” he asked, and Jeanette frowned.
“What has that got to do with anything? She was my sister. My little sister at that, and I should have been there to protect her, to … damn it.” She bit her lip and took deep breaths in and out to calm her emotions. It wouldn’t do to break down and bawl her eyes out in front of Ty. She got the distinct impression that it wouldn’t achieve anything, and besides she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. This man saw far too much as it was. She had to keep thinking of him as the enemy, and not be swayed to let the rare moments of tenderness he showed her, to influence her thinking. Therein lay madness, and certain ruin for her. It would be too easy to lose herself and to simply give in to the silent dominance which oozed out of this man’s pores.
She had to avenge her sister, had to, and nothing and no one could get in the way of that.
“I reiterate, how well did you know her?” Ty’s question demanded an answer, his voice having dropped to that deep, commanding growl that settled straight in every one of her erogenous zones. Maybe that online test she had participated in ages go had been right after all, and she was submissive, because, lord help her, that voice made her want to do everything he asked and more.
When she didn’t answer he wrapped his hand in her hair and pulled her so close to him that their breaths mingled. Jeanette couldn’t move, could barely breathe, truth be told, because Ty looked furious right now.
“Let’s get one thing straight once and for all, girl. You will answer my questions, or so help me, I’ll get the boys in here and let them loose on your insolent ass.” He smiled grimly at her sharp intake of breath and her attempt to shake her head. “Trust me, once you’ve had a good flogging at all their hands strapped to that cross you’ll sing like a fucking canary, because they will make that hurt, especially Ren.”
She flinched at the mention of his name.
“That man is a fucking monster. You all are.”
Ty pulled back to study her, and his smile in answer didn’t reach his eyes. He looked disgusted with her right now, and that really shouldn’t bother her. Who cared what he thought of her, what any of them thought of her? They were nothing more than a bunch of murdering scumbags.
“Why?” Ty asked, and she blinked in surprise.
“Why what?” Her voice rose to a shrill squeak in her agitation, and Jeanette took a swing at his belly. Not that it had a huge effect on him. Ty paled, and grunted, but he didn’t release her, and Jeanette was pretty sure her ineffective punch only registered on his radar due to his previous injuries. Thoughts of those bruises she’d seen instantly squashed her anger.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. You’re hurt already. Jeez, I don’t know what … I’m not normally this…” She stopped babbling when Ty smiled. A genuine smile this time, which lit up his features and intensified the amber flecks in his dark eyes.
“Yet you’ve come to the club with the intention of revenge. Tell, me, how exactly where you going to achieve that? Creep up on Ren and stab him in his sleep, perhaps?”
Jeanette dropped her gaze, that statement being far too close to the truth, and Ty swore under his breath.
“And you call him a monster. That’s rich, girl.”
He shoved her away and stalked away from the bed. Every line of his body screamed of his anger, and she jumped when he punched the St. Andrew’s Cross with so much force the entire structure wobbled.
“He butchered my sister. He deserves to—”
“Shut the fuck up, girl, and let me enlighten you about this sister of yours.” His growled words stopped her response, and had she been able to, Jeanette would have run away and never come back. Hands fisted by his sides, head down, and with his whole attention focused on her, Ty looked murderous, and far too damn sexy, which made her fucked up in the head, for sure. She ought to feel nothing but disgust toward this man. Instead the crotch of her knickers was soaked through with her arousal, and if he chose to take her right now, she had no doubt she would come like a freight train. As it was it took every ounce of self-control she had to not clench her thighs together to relieve the insistent pressure building between her thighs.
What in all that was holy was that about? She didn’t understand her body’s visceral response to this man at all. It made no sense, yet somewhere deep inside in that place that no other man had ever been able to reach it made perfect sense. The little devil sitting on her shoulder urged her to let go, to not overanalyze these conflicting emotions battering her soul.
Truth was she couldn’t think straight when Ty was with her, let alone when he exhibited this raw masculinity.
So, instead of ranting at him, like she ought to have done, she kept quiet, allowing her gaze to roam over his muscled physique, while his deep voice broke through all of her defenses and shattered any illusions about her sister she might have still been holding onto. Tears of shame and disappointment gathered in her eyes, and she hastily blinked them away.
“Your little sister was a royal bitch, who threw everything Huntly did for her back in his face, and to top it all stole from him, and then sold it to the fucking Priestlys, the very kind of fucking scum Huntly’s actions rescued her from in the first place.”
Jeanette shook her head and whispered her denial.
“I don’t believe you. Myr wouldn’t do that. Sure, she was a wild child and she was led astray by that no-good-for-nothing-boyfriend of hers, but she never touched drugs. I don’t believe you. She was a dancer. We look after our bodies, we don’t abuse them. It doesn’t make any sense.”
The bed dipped as Ty sat next to her and taking her hands in his slowly uncurled her fists. He ran his thumb over the crescent moons her fake nails had left behind in her skin, and clucked his tongue.
“I ask you again. When did you last see her?” The gentle tone of his question meant she blurted her answer out before she could think about how wise that action was.
“She was sixteen.”
Ty kept up the soothing massage of her palms, and Jeanette flicked him a glance. Seeing nothing but quiet expectation in his gaze she continued.
“Mum and she had another row. I’d managed to get Myr a scholarship at the Royal Academy of Dance, and she’d decided she didn’t want to do that after all. She was gonna move in with her boyfriend, and he was gonna get her into more lucrative dancing.”
Ty’s hold on her hands tightened for a few precious heartbeats, and a muscle ticked in his jaw, before he resumed stroking her skin in lazy circles.
“I see, and did he?”
Jeanette gave a short laugh.
“I’d always assumed he had. She sounded happy on the few occasions that she rang up. In fact, I recall when she told me about the job she’d landed at La Masquerade.” Jeanette smiled recalling the excitement in Myr’s voice.
“She sounded so happy, and it was a huge relief to hear from her. I hadn’t heard from her in almost a year by then. She’d ditched the boyfriend, she’d said, and this was her chance to make it big. She tried to get me to sign up, and I’m afraid we had a row about it. I couldn’t understand why she would choose pole dancing over a career in the ballet. She had the freaking talent, and she could have gone so far, where as I was … never mind.”
“No, continue, whereas you were?” Ty let go of her hands and nudged her chin up to make her look at him.
Jeanette flashed him a smile and shrugged.
“I’d been booted out for being too tall, so, yeah, I was jealous of her, okay? Which makes me a horrible person, because who is jealous of their sister?”
Ty smiled, and some of her anxiety fled when he quirked an eyebrow at her.
“Sibling relationships are complicated at the best of times, especially same sex ones. We tend to compet
e for everything, and feeling jealous is a normal, human emotion.”
He looked lost in thought for a minute and incredibly sad, so much so that Jeanette blurted out her question without thinking.
“You have siblings?”
Ty shook himself, and studied her for the longest time as though to weigh up his response to her.
“I had a brother,” he finally said, and the odd undertone in his voice made her stomach cramp anew.
“Had?”
“He was killed by an IUD in Afghanistan. It left only parts of him to bury.”
Ty smiled grimly at her sharp intake of breath.
“I’m so sorry.”
“Why, titch? I mean really, why do folks always say that? You weren’t the one to place that fucking bomb there, and besides, he died doing what he loved best. Mum and Dad took some small comfort from that fact at least. For myself, I killed as many of those fuckers as I could, but it left a sour taste in my mouth. Ren had resigned out to work for Huntly and eventually convinced me to do the same. Besides, not much scope in civvie life for men with our unique skill set, shall we say.”
Jeanette swallowed hard at the images that conjured up.
“You could have started work for a security firm or something? I mean, you didn’t have to turn into a criminal?”
This time Ty’s smile in response chilled her to the bone, and his reply did nothing to reassure her.
“I could have done, but you’re missing an important fact here. I enjoy killing, especially bastards like the Priestlys. There is an awful lot of scum out there that cannot be reached by legal means. That’s why you need the Cleaners. If that makes us monsters in your eyes, then so be it.”
He sat back and crossed his arms over his chest, and Jeanette licked her lips and swallowed hard to get her dry throat to work. The way Ty’s gaze dropped to her lips and stayed there made her heart miss a beat.
His to Punish (The Cleaners Book 2) Page 7
