I mean, variety was the spice of life, wasn’t it? A thick dick, a long dick, a tatted dick, a shaved dick… I mean, give ‘em all to me. I’d be fine. I knew how to work each and every one.
We got in the cars, and then we drove home, the night’s mission complete and another body in the river. That river, I bet, was full of them—not that any cop would ever go searching for any missing persons. The good thing about this town was the beyond-crooked police department. I actually did wonder why the hell there was a police station, but I guessed it was because this city acted as if it was normal.
It wasn’t, though. This city wasn’t one with a seedy underbelly. This place was dark all around, and anyone who chose to live in it either knew that or was stupid as hell.
Chapter Three – Maddox
I thought about going to the club, but after they left, I couldn’t stop thinking about the girl. About Lola. About fucking Lola. I hated that I couldn’t get that girl off my mind, hated that I felt something stirring deep within me every time that pretty face graced my thoughts. She killed Mario. That wasn’t something I could forgive.
But then I always realized that I wasn’t the forgiving sort. I held grudges. I held up a middle finger to everyone with eyes and told them to fuck off. I was not a man of forgiveness, so even thinking about Mario was pointless. That said, just because I knew I could never forgive and forget the past didn’t mean I couldn’t want more from her, right?
Ugh. Fuck. I hated the indecision, and I hated that she was here. Everything would’ve been normal if my father would’ve just told Sylvester to shove off with his idea of using the Night Slayer, training her to become our attack dog. It was his fault she was here, both my father’s and Sylvester’s. I blamed them both for the confusing feelings wrestling inside of me.
So I didn’t go out. I waited in the house for them to return, because I knew they would. I knew tonight would go without a hitch. Father was in his office, as he usually was. I didn’t go to him because I feared he would see the emotion in me. He wouldn’t be happy to see that I’d somehow grown feelings for Lola.
Fucking Lola.
I just couldn’t get over it. I couldn’t stop thinking about what Lola had told us before.
Her brother. Her parents. Her whole fucked-up family who, in turn, fucked her up beyond repair. People like me, we were born into darkness, we were made to be what we became. My father had helped to shape me from a very young age, but I didn’t need much guidance when it came to what our family did.
But not every monster was born. Some were made, like Lola.
There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that Lola would be worlds different if her parents had actually cared enough to stop her brother from abusing her. From raping her and getting her pregnant. All the abortions they made her have, and then paying a doctor to perform surgery on her so she would be sterile…
I mean, how fucking awful. If her parents weren’t already dead, I’d track them down and kill them myself, make them drown in their own blood, all the while also making sure they knew why I was doing it. Why I was hurting them so badly they would long for a quick death. I’d make them know it was because of what they did—or didn’t do—for their daughter.
I shouldn’t care, though. Hence the fucking problem. I shouldn’t give a shit about what Lola went through in her life, shouldn’t care that her brother and her parents fucked her up this badly… but I did. I did, and I couldn’t turn the rage I felt inside off.
Her parents were dead, yes, but her brother wasn’t. I’d already decided that night, the night Lola told us the truth, that I would find him. Use your fucking imagination to think about what I’d do once I got my hands on him. I had a few people looking into it, searching for him. Sooner or later they would find him, and then I would wreak havoc upon his unsuspecting self.
The motherfucker.
There weren’t too many people I hated above all else in this world. One was Lola—and that was confusing as hell because it wasn’t just hatred I felt towards her. The other was her brother, because that sick fuck deserved nothing but revilement and pain. And the third? The third was my mother, but she was another story entirely.
I was in one of the house’s many lounges when they got back, watching three people go at it on the giant screen hanging on the wall.
Yes, I was watching porn. I was a guy. A guy who didn’t feel like hitting up the clubs or seeing my usual girls. And, I regret to inform you, watching porn wasn’t as fun as actually doing it yourself.
I paused it, getting up and heading into the hall. My dick was a little hard, so with a quick adjustment, I was fine.
Sylvester, Viper, and Lola were heading down the hall. Lola and Viper walked past me, but I did get a hungry side-eye from her. Now the look on her face? That got me harder. The look I imagined she wore when she was out on the town with my brother, Viper, and Tony? That got me as hard as steel, but that was a feeling I tried to fight.
My brother stopped, and together we watched Viper and Lola disappear down the hall, turning into the bathroom. The lounge I’d chosen for tonight was the one closest to her room, and if I was honest, I picked that one on purpose.
“How did it go?” I asked, my hands hanging uselessly at my sides, and I was slow to meet my brother’s stare. Even though Lola and Viper had disappeared, it was like I was waiting for her to come back out, to see her again.
God, how fucking desperate did I sound right now? Pretty pathetic, too.
Sylvester shrugged. “I don’t know, honestly. Danny… it was just as our father thought. He was shacking up with the Princess. They all know about Mario now.”
“Shit,” I muttered the word under my breath, shaking my head once. “Now that they know—”
“It’s only a matter of time before they put more pressure on us, maybe even try to kill us.” Sylvester paused, blue eyes staring holes into me. “Especially you. You’re the last heir, Maddox. The last heir with Luciano blood running through your veins.”
I cocked my head at him, frowning. As much as that was true, it didn’t mean shit. Anyone who knew our family knew Sylvester was a brother to me, just as he’d been a brother to Mario. I might be bullheaded and rash as fuck, but even I knew that.
Besides, Sylvester was the one who was eager to take up our father’s mantle, not me. I liked the killing. Running the whole show? That was a hell of a lot of responsibility I didn’t want.
“What?” Sylvester spoke, meeting my frown with one of his own. “It’s true. I might be part of the family, but there are still people out there who don’t think I’m a Luciano, even after all these years.”
“But you’re father’s favorite.” It was the first time I’d said it aloud, but not the first time I’d thought of it. Because it was true. As much as it made me furious, it was true. I was a bat, capable of bludgeoning anyone nearby, but Sylvester? Sylvester was a loaded gun, more precise, more careful in its rampage.
“We both know that doesn’t matter, not to the DeLucas. They will sense we are weak and scrambling, and that’s because we are. They’ll go after you first, then me. We need to be careful,” he said.
I let out a lungful of air, practically growling. How I would love to get my hands on Carl DeLuca, end his reign, and then take out his family and those loyal to him one by one until there was nothing left. That, though, was a pipedream, for as much as my family postured and said we owned this city and everyone in it… it was a lie. A pretty lie wrapped in a bow that we hoped no one would unravel.
And yet they did, because of a traitor.
“I hope Danny’s swimming with the fishes now,” I remarked dryly, wishing I would’ve been there to watch the life drain out of his traitorous eyes.
“He is.” I didn’t have much time to be smug about that fact, because my brother went on, “But he said he wasn’t the only one. We have more traitors in our midst, I fear.”
Of course we did. If Danny was the only one, everything would be too easy now, wouldn’t it? Coul
d not dare to have things be easy.
Sylvester went on, “I have to go tell our father of the news.” Without another word, he started down the hall, disappearing after he rounded a corner.
I watched him go, everything he’d told me swirling in my head like a tornado. We had more traitors, more liars deceiving us. Truly, we couldn’t trust anyone. Maybe it was Viper, or Big Mike, or even Tony… or any of the others in the city, the ones who had been loyal to us from the beginning. Maybe they’d jumped ship because they saw how we were sinking. And now that word got out that Mario was dead…
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
I returned to the lounge, the light dimmed. I did not hit play on the television, instead leaning forward on the couch, my hands fists as my arms rested on my knees. The only person who wasn’t a possible traitor was the one girl I both hated and craved like no other. Lola. She’d come into this family in a mess of blood, having murdered my brother, but not knowing who we were, and then she’d been under constant watch since then—there was no way she was a turncoat.
Trusting Lola. It sounded ridiculous, and that’s because it was. We couldn’t trust Lola at all because she was only in it for herself. She had a death wish. Her mind wasn’t right. Still, knowing there were others out there who wanted the DeLucas to rule this city as we had made having the Night Slayer as our pet seem a little smarter.
Not that I would ever say that aloud to Sylvester. He already had a big enough head as it was.
I must’ve lost myself in my head for a long while, for suddenly a feminine voice spoke from the doorway, “Still up?”
I turned my head, seeing Lola standing, wearing the tiniest shorts ever, along with a white shirt that was one hundred percent see-through. And no bra, her dark nipples on full display beneath the shirt. Her blonde hair was damp, her mask and the clothes she’d worn before gone. Viper wasn’t behind her, as I assumed he was taking care of her clothes and all that. Or maybe rinsing himself off after tonight, taking his turn in the shower.
Still, the girl should have someone watching her at all times since we couldn’t trust her.
Then again, we couldn’t trust anyone apparently, so did it really matter?
“Where’s Viper?” I asked, grinding my teeth. My whole body felt tense, and an easy way of relieving it stood near the door, wearing a tempting outfit that was next to nothing. I doubted she wore panties under there, the dirty girl.
Fuck, no. I should not let my mind wander to sex each and every time Lola appeared before me. That’s how I dug myself into a hole this deep to begin with: wanting the one girl I should never want to stick my cock in.
But I did. Oh, fuck it, I wanted to ram myself into every hole on that body, again and again.
Lola moved to sit beside me on the couch, reclining back, her tits rubbing against the white shirt as she breathed. “He went to shower real quick. Don’t worry, he saw me to the door, and now you’re watching me,” she whispered. Her blue eyes flicked to the screen, where a mess of limbs displayed.
It was definitely an interesting part to have paused it on. The girl on the TV was on her knees before two men, each of which stuck their dicks in her face proudly.
It took her a moment to say, “Having a fun night by yourself?” She didn’t sound awkward at all, kudos to her. In fact, Lola didn’t seem perturbed at all by the naked people on the screen.
I shrugged. “Kind of wish I would’ve been there tonight, so I could’ve seen that fucktard die.” My words were bitten out, my hands still curled into fists. If I could revive Danny just to kill him again, I would. Traitors deserved nothing less than eternal pain and misery.
“Want me to tell you how it went?”
“Sylvester told me—”
“I mean the kill.”
I thought on it, staring at Lola’s face in the dim lighting. Such a beautiful, gorgeous face. It was a face that belonged on an angel, on a person who lived the best life they could, someone who knew right from wrong and was kind and generous and loving. But this was real life, and it sounded like her pretty face had been the catalyst to her life of abuse.
My gaze dropped to her hands. She wore no gloves now, allowing me to see the dark red scabs on them. She’d gone crazy on the mirror down the hall—which we’d gotten replaced immediately, told our father I’d punched it so he wouldn’t have reason to hurt her. After hearing Lola’s story, neither of us wanted her to be hurt.
Stupid. We had all turned stupid for this girl.
“Sure,” I eventually said, lifting my eyes back to hers. She was not the kind of girl I ever saw myself with before, but now… now I couldn’t see myself with anyone else, as much as I didn’t want to say it. I wanted to find her brother and bring him to justice. I wanted to do it for her, to help make her feel better, to give her closure.
God, I sounded like a fucking sap, didn’t I? How lame.
Lola grinned as she told me how the night went. Not the details about what they discovered, how we had more traitors in our midst, but how Danny had looked when she’d stepped out from Sylvester’s shadow. How he’d started to tremble when Sylvester tossed the card my father had received from Carl DeLuca at him. She told me how easily he’d gone down, how bold he’d been, even though she’d held a knife against his throat.
And then, in great detail, she told me how deep she’d cut into him and how quickly he’d bled out. To use her words, it was amazing.
You know what was amazing? Listening to Lola talk about killing. The girl really did love it. She was my brand of crazy, and maybe that’s why I felt drawn to her so much. The Night Slayer and Mad Maddox. We’d make quite the couple.
The problem with that was, well, I didn’t date. I fooled around. I hooked up. But date? Dating required giving one person all of your attention, and I just never felt the need or the desire to do it, nor had I ever met a girl I could see myself with, someone who sated all the ravenous hunger inside me.
Lola couldn’t be that girl. She was my brother’s murderer, and in doing so she’d brought a heap of more shit onto my family.
By the time she was finished explaining how the night went, Viper still wasn’t back. I had no idea what the hell was taking him so long, but any hope of not spending the rest of my night thinking about Lola grew slimmer and slimmer as the minutes wore on.
Might as well make the most of it, I decided, reaching for the remote. My finger hovered over the play button as I glanced at her. She sat inches away from me on the couch, dividing her gaze between me and the remote in my hand. “Mind if I hit play?” I questioned, arching a dark brow at her.
“Not at all,” she purred out.
I hit the button, and the TV roared to life. The sounds of a wet blow job filled the air, along with grunting. The girl on her knees before two cocks on the screen divided her time between them, and for a few moments, Lola and I watched.
Did she get turned on by watching other people? I couldn’t help but wonder that, mostly because Lola could not take her eyes off the screen.
I knew we already had one resident voyeur—Roman. Roman never hid his kink, and now he owned an entire club that he oversaw. He also had put all of his focus on one girl lately. He, Carter, and some other guy who wasn’t involved in any of this were sharing her, like some kind of multiple boyfriend thing.
I didn’t know if I could ever do that. Actually share her. Like, after feelings were proclaimed. This, now… it was easier to say I was just using her for her body. I knew Sylvester had done the same, but he was so much more outgoing when it came to his feelings. I bet Sylvester would fall to his knees and profess his love for her soon enough, he acted like he cared about her so much.
A new possibility came into my head. Maybe she wasn’t getting so much turned on by watching the people on the screen getting down and nasty; maybe she was imagining herself in a similar scenario with me and my brother.
Would she like that, being taken by both of us at once?
I returned my gaze to the screen, try
ing to push away all thoughts and focus on the porn, on the feeling of my dick twitching in my pants. It was getting harder, but not as quickly as it should.
I thought about taking Lola’s closest hand and bringing it to my pants, to wordlessly tell her to undo the button and zipper and help my cock reach its full hardness faster, but then I remembered how bad in shape her hands were. The wounds were easily hidden by gloves—quick thinking on Sylvester’s part when it came to her outfit for the Gilded Rose—but forcing her to give me a handjob might crack some of them open, and while I wasn’t afraid of a little blood on my dick, I didn’t want to risk it.
So instead of using her hand, I would use something else. That pretty mouth of hers.
Of course, that invited the possibility that she might just gnaw my dick right off—Lola was fucking crazy, let’s not forget—but I didn’t fear that happening. I didn’t think she’d do it. I was her brand of crazy, just as she was mine. It went both ways between us, and that was the only reason I reached for the back of her neck, fingers curling around the sides of her throat, and pulled her off the couch.
Lola went, sparkling blue eyes on me as I pushed her onto the floor between my legs. I tugged on her hair a little, hissing out the words, “Put that mouth to good use on me.” A command. An order, one I knew she would follow because she was a kinky, crazy bitch.
God, I think I was almost as obsessed with her as Sylvester was.
“No knives?” she whined, pouting those full lips as she ran a hand above the growing bulge in my pants.
“Not this time.”
Lola hummed as she freed my cock, her pale hand curling around it as she pumped it twice. Not hard, and not fast, but it was enough to make my balls tense and my cock twitch. She pulled my pants all the way down, freeing my legs of the fabric, which allowed her to get closer.
Those tempting lips parted, and she ran a tongue over them, as if she was about to have the most delicious lollipop ever. I watched as her head bobbed down, her mouth taking me in. She licked a swirl around my tip, and I let out a groan as my head fell back.
Crooked Heart (A Death So Sweet Book 2) Page 4
