The Vigilantes Collection

by Lake, Keri

  When I frowned, Dax crossed his arms. “You mentioned him before. And when you were sleeping.”

  “He’s one of the guards at the storage facility.” At a visual of a cattle prod, the chasing burn across my flesh left me flinching. I caught a glimpse of my collarbone, where the phantom pain of those prongs still lingered in invisible markings. “He was one of the crueler ones.”

  “Camo pants? Portwine stain on his face?”

  “That’s him.”

  “He’s dead. So you can lay those nightmares to rest.”

  Perhaps he was dead, but the nightmares would never sleep. Not so long as I could still feel his hands on my skin and his whispers in my ear. “You killed him?”

  “Just before he tried to drive off with you. Blew a hole in his face.”

  Dizziness struck again, and I stumbled back, caught by Dax’s arm clinging tight to my wrist.

  “Come lie down for a bit. Maybe we can try smaller bites after you’ve had some rest.”

  I let him guide me back to the bed, where I crawled over the cool sheets. Whatever it was that’d taken over my body, commandeering me, needed to leave soon. I didn’t have time to nurture my recovery, not while the men who’d murdered Eden continued to walk free.

  I’d track each one of them down and end them as mercilessly as they’d ended her.

  After clearing the food away, Dax flipped off the light and settled into his bed, both of us lying silent in the darkness.

  A thump hit the wall. Another. Each slam against the divider took on a more rhythmic cadence, until it was clear what was going on in the next room. The faint sound of moaning confirmed it.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Dax hammered his fist into the wall, which only incited louder moans.

  I grunted a laugh, but something in that sound struck my body in a strange way. My skin itched, palms sweating, as I rubbed them against the cool cotton sheets. Every nerve flared with the need for touch, and my muscles steeled with the craving. The drug may have exited my system, but it’s effects, the conditioning of responding to sex the way I had, still remained present in my head.

  I wished for those pink pills as if they were the very air I sucked in to hold my breath, as a new appetite snaked deep into my core, taunting something I couldn’t seem to ignore.

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  The woman’s heightening screams brought to mind the ones I’d so often heard from the other storage units, and the sickening way we’d become primed into cravings at the sound of them. Turned on by another’s suffering.

  Only, the woman in the next room didn’t seem to be suffering, at all. In fact, she seemed to be enjoying the hell out of whatever her partner was doing to her.

  I shuddered an exhale, ignoring the tingling ache between my thighs, and clamped my eyes shut. To be sleeping beside a complete stranger, unable to think about anything else, but how it’d feel to have his hands on mine, his lips searching, sucking, tongue in my mouth while he fucked me …. I hated myself. I hated every inch of what I’d become. How I’d been trained to feed off those deliciously intense sounds.

  But no matter how badly I wanted to right then, I refused to have sex with Dax.

  12

  Dax

  The sunlight filtering through the crack in the heavy drapes made for an unwelcome invasion. Had the couple in the next room not fucked until three in the morning, I might’ve gotten some much needed sleep, but I was lucky if I’d managed four.

  Nicoleta’s sleeping face greeted my eyes when I opened them, her slender leg resting atop the sheet stuffed between her thighs.

  Hedonic. Shit, she must’ve been twice as miserable with all that noise next door—one of the worst things about the drug. Had forgotten about that. Yeah, a person could kick the habit, but it took some time for the brain not to crave sex when one of the other senses happened to be titillated by it.

  The bed squealed as I sat up, and I turned to check she hadn’t stirred. Like an old man, I hobbled into the bathroom to take a piss and brush my teeth, before nabbing my phone and sneaking out the door, leaving Nicoleta asleep.

  Outside, I scrolled through my phone for a number I’d been given by a friend, in the event I needed to dig for some information. He was something of an internet celebrity, particularly amongst the hackers who’d come to idolize him. The phone number belonged to a chick named China who had a penchant for finding shit a Google search wouldn’t pull.

  Shit so deep on the darknet, not even the FBI could track it down.

  At her greeting on the other end, I spoke low into the phone. “It’s Dax. I need whatever you can find on an Eden O’Malley. Some bad shit.” I cleared my throat, brushing my thumb across my nose as if she were sitting in front of me. “Snuff.”

  “Damn, Dax. I hate having to search for those.”

  “Better you than me, sweetheart. My trigger finger gets twitchy just thinking about it.”

  “All right, I’m on it. I find something, I’ll send it to the email from before. You have access to that?”

  “On my phone.”

  “Then, it’ll be encrypted.”

  “Fair deal. Thanks.”

  “Anytime.”

  I clicked off, stuffed the phone into my back pocket, and lit up a cigarette. The urge to know more about the girl, to understand why Nicoleta would risk her own life to set things straight, had nagged at me most of the night.

  It was tragic how some girls—the good ones—like my sister, Livvie, got dealt a bullshit hand in life sometimes. Like the universe just up and forget about them, left them to fend for themselves against the flock of predators who got off on bastardizing their innocence. Of course, in Livvie’s case, the bullshit had started long before her murder.

  My bones ached, as I climbed the stairs of the tired, ratted front porch. With all the money my foster parents, or June and Hank as I preferred to call them, collected taking in kids, seemed like the house should’ve been one of the nicest on the block. Fucking chateau in the hood, instead of the white trash hellhole that sat as an eyesore in an already run down area of Detroit. Just proved what little shit they gave when it came to things they should’ve taken care of. The moment I set my hand on the front door knob, a scream from inside coiled down my spine.

  Livvie.

  Shoulder first, I slammed through the door to find her crouched in the corner of the living room, eyes wide with terror. Across from her, my foster father stood with a belt looped for whipping.

  “Hank! Stop this!” June reached out for his drawn back arm and with his palm stretched over her face, he shoved her backward into the wall.

  I charged forward, barreling straight for his mid-section, knocking him down to the floor.

  Someone screamed, didn’t know if it was June or Livvie, but I didn’t care. I had the bastard beneath me, and I hammered my fist into his nose. Blood sprayed up, and his body shook, trying to get free, but I popped him again. Another punch struck his eye. A third split his lip. I punched him until his fight settled and June captured my drawn back fist, as she stood sobbing over me.

  “Please! No more!”

  I didn’t even realize tears had gathered in my eyes, until I craned my head, catching her blurred form trembling with fear.

  Fear for what? This cocksucker? That I might hurt him as much as he’d hurt every kid that ever skated through their shithole chateau?

  Lip peeled back, I wrenched my arm from her and pushed to my feet, towering over her. “I promised if he ever touched her I’d kill him.” Not sparing her another second, I strode across the room and crouched in front of Livvie, who bore the strikes of his belt in thick red welts across her arms, her shoulders, her face, wherever the cocksucker could get a hit in, it seemed.

  “I was … Reed and I were … in the car. He saw us kiss.” Her whole body trembled as she spoke, and I reached out to rub my hand across her arm, careful not to touch her wounds. Reed was my buddy, Jase’s, younger brother, one she’d met going to meetings
at The Ladder, something of a group home where we’d all ended up before landing in foster care. “The minute I walked into the house, Hank pinned me to the wall. Called me a whore.” Eyes glistening with tears, she shook her head and lowered her gaze from mine. “We were just hanging out, Dax.”

  “It’s okay, Livvie. Everything’s going to be okay.” I stroked a hand down her hair, lifting her gaze to mine, and just caught the wide-eyed terror staring back at me before a sharp pain struck my back. The burn radiated across my spine, sending tingles into my limbs, as every nerve flared beneath my skin. A roar of agony cracked through my chest, and I reached behind, to palpate an object sticking out of my back that felt like the hilt of a knife. When I twisted around, Hank’s swollen and bloody face stared down at me, eyes brimming with murderous rage.

  I made my way back inside, to find Nicoleta sat up on the bed, eyes heavy with sleep.

  “Jasper Horn.”

  The name slapped me with confusion as I closed the door. “Come again?”

  “He’s the first on my list. One of the men who killed Eden.”

  “Great. But you’re in no condition to take down a Christmas tree, let alone a murdering rapist.”

  “I’m fine.” She pushed to her feet and wobbled backward, falling onto the bed again. “I just need to eat something.”

  “You need to eat for about a week, before you’ll be in any shape to confront a criminal.”

  “I don’t have a week. In case you didn’t happen to notice, people are after us. If we sit idle, they’ll surely find us. Dmitry has eyes everywhere.”

  “If we start frequenting the places they like to cut loose, we’re sure to run into them there quicker.” I strode across the room for one of the granola bars I’d left in the grocery bags from the night before and tossed one to her. “Let’s start light this time.” From a case of water I’d picked up, I handed her a room temp bottle.

  “He hangs out at a club. It’s one of theirs.”

  Nabbing another bottle for myself, I fell back into a chair and cracked it open, guzzling half its contents before I set it down on the table. “You’ve been to this club?”

  “No.”

  “Where is it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know.” I shrugged and threw my hands up in the air. “So, what’s your plan, Nicoleta? Drive around the city looking for some shady ass club?”

  “It’s not open to the public.” She bit into the granola bar, chewing slower than she had with the burger. “You need the tattoo to get in,” she added around a mouthful of food.

  “And what then? You can’t just waltz in and start shooting up the place. These assholes have connections to the cartels and shit.”

  “I’m well aware. I want to follow him. Find out where he lives.”

  Shaking my head, I stroked my palm over my skull, frustrated by the bullshit plan she’d laid out for me. “I never agreed to this shit, Nicoleta. I’ve got my own to deal with.”

  “And you’ll never find Tesarik without me.” The proud incline of her chin struck me as both bold and painfully attractive. “Every time you track him down, he gets smarter.”

  “So what makes you think he’d take the chance of showing up somewhere, knowing you’re privy to that?”

  “I can assure you, he wouldn’t miss it for anything. Even me.”

  “What’s so important about it?”

  “I suppose you’ll have to help me to find that out.”

  Rubbing my hand down my face couldn’t stamp out the urge to shake the shit out of her. Girl had a way of driving me crazy. Must’ve been a pheromone she gave off, or something. In some ways she reminded me of a kitten, but wilder. More cunning. Like a little fucking lynx, all claws and teeth, digging into my soft spots. “What is this club?”

  “BDSM, from what I understand. It’s an old hotel somewhere.”

  “Hotel? Baby, I’ve been in damn near every building in the city. Pretty sure I’d have seen it.”

  “If you’d seen it, I’m certain you’d remember it. A place like that can’t easily be forgotten.”

  The very thought tightened my muscles. Wasn’t sure I could venture into that kind of club without my kill switch getting flipped.

  “You haven’t known me long. But I’ll tell you, I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t need your help.”

  I rolled my head on my shoulders, trying to rid myself of that nagging fucking ache I’d developed since taking her in. “Fine. I’ll do it. I got some friends who might’ve heard of it.”

  “They’d have work in the bowels of the city to know this place.”

  “Woody’s Strip Club. Doesn’t get much lower than that. ‘Sides Sphinx.”

  “I want to come with you.”

  “No. What are you? Two days over eighteen?” I sneered and kicked back another swig of the water.

  “I’m almost nineteen. And I’m not staying in this shitty motel, waiting for some asshole to come swipe me up.”

  “Last I checked, you do all right on your own. I’ll leave a blade for you.”

  “I do all right on my own. But I’m safer with you.”

  Staring back at her failed to reveal a trace of bullshit in her eyes, and I groaned as I slid deeper into the chair. “Fine. But I’m not taking you to a club wearing nothing but my T-shirt.”

  “Ah, yes, let’s roll up to Macy’s like something out of Pretty Woman and shop for some clothes.”

  “I know someone.”

  “You’ve got an acquaintance for everything, don’t you, Dax?”

  “Not everything,” I muttered, grabbing the car keys off the table. “Let’s roll.”

  13

  Nicoleta

  One thing I’d come to know quickly about Dax in the short time I’d spent with him: he liked being needed. I’d seen it flickering in his eyes when I’d told him I felt safer with him. As though I’d hit the one button that made him more pliant and agreeable with females.

  He was probably one of those types who insisted on being called Daddy during sex. If I had to guess, the guy’s dating roster was probably a disaster of girls with daddy issues. His size was perfect for making them feel small and fragile beside him. Little dolls he could care for and play house with, then discard when he got bored of them.

  Lucky for me, I knew how to play on his weakness.

  A fog still clouded my head—residual effects of the drug, I supposed—but it was nice getting out of the apartment. Like sucking in a lungful of fresh air after sitting in a smoke-filled room. Hardest part of detox had been lying in a bed, staring at the walls every day, forgetting my purpose. Ignoring that nagging sense of urgency beating down my spine, while the drugs worked their way out of my system.

  The city passed through the passenger window, as we drove through downtown, toward the outskirts of what I recognized as the direction of Hamtramck.

  “So, you hang out at strip clubs in your free time?” I asked. It made sense. They seemed to be a class of women who needed help. The very idea that some of them got into the profession out of desperation for money seemed aligned with Dax’s personality.

  “You can make me out to be a man-whore all you want, sweetheart. Truth is, those women bust their asses every day to stay alive. I like strong women.”

  Strong in bed, maybe. “And I’m weak?”

  “No. Not even close.” He shot me a glance, before turning his attention back to the road. “You’re an enigma I’ve not quite figured out.”

  “Don’t think too hard on it. No sense hurting your brain over nothing.”

  Something like a growl rumbled in his chest. “You’re a smartass, you know that?”

  “Where are we going?”

  “You don’t like surprises?”

  “No.”

  “You don’t trust anyone, do you?”

  Through the passenger window, the homeless we passed clustered around a burning trashcan beside a building. “Trust is hard-earned with me, and rarely reciprocated.”
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br />   “Jase is a buddy of mine. Known him since we were kids. His woman’s laid back and nice—been through some shit herself, so I figured—”

  “That we’d become fast friends? Maybe we’d swap stories about being used and abused?” I turned in time to catch the flinch of his eye. Another thing I’d come to learn about Dax: he didn’t like hearing about women, in particular, getting hurt.

  “I figured she’d be less inclined to ask you any questions.”

  Directing my attention back to the window again, I rubbed my hands against my thighs, a bout of nervous energy humming through my veins. I’d never been good around other women. They tended to look at my standoffish personality as bitchy, when, really, I just didn’t know what to say half the time. I didn’t grow up gawping over boybands and dreaming of prom. I grew up balancing a criminal’s bank records and learning how to defend myself. I grew up keeping others at a distance, because I learned a valuable lesson early on: the more people in your life, the more times you could be hurt.

  With the bucket of supplies Donata had given me, I knocked on the office door before entering quietly.

  Dmitry sat at his desk, hovering over papers scattered across the surface of it. The guy was definitely a criminal, so I never quite got why he always had paperwork. He glanced up from his work only for a second. “How’s your eye?”

  “Good. Can’t hardly see the bruise anymore.” I padded across the office and fell into one of the more comfortable leather seats, directly in front of Dmitry’s desk.

  “You’ve finished for the day?”

  “Yeah. Donata told me to check with you before I go.”

  “You’re free to go, then. I’ll have Radim drive you home.”

  The moment he returned his attention to his work, I stole the opportunity to ask the burning question in the back of my mind. “Why don’t you have a family? I mean, you have all those rooms to clean. In a big house. Seems like a lot for just you.”

  The way his gloved hand went still, his fancy pen dripping globs of ink onto the white paper below it, sent a shiver up my spine. When he lifted his gaze, I wondered if he was trying to figure out how he could effectively pierce my skull with that expensive pen.