Dark Nights Boxed Set: The Complete Series

by Skye Warren

  “He got a call from them yesterday. They’re moving up their timetable. They’re talking in the next week, not months.”

  “Are you sure?” Zachary asked sharply.

  “I’m sure,” I said wryly, thinking of how Carlos’s cock had wilted, just a little, in my mouth when the guy on the other end of the line had started berating him. Men had no idea how much they gave away in their quest for control.

  “They wanted to talk about security, but I guess you already know about that.” Seeing as the head of Carlos’s security was actually an undercover agent.

  “Give me the run-down anyway.”

  “They just said they need more. More security—more men, more guns.”

  “And my guy, he trusts him?”

  I thought about that. Carlos wasn’t the alpha dog—he was the rabid one. If anyone even looked at him sideways, he felt the need to attack, to display his dominance, and then shit on the person just for good measure.

  Tyler challenged him, I could see that. With his obvious physical competence at combat, something illustrated not only by the toned muscles that filled out his body, but also by the fact that he was head of security and clearly knew his way around a weapons rack, Carlos would be feeling the urge to fight.

  But Carlos also acted with a certain camaraderie with Tyler, one I’d never seen him display for his other underlings. It was almost like he saw Tyler as his equal. That fact might mean Tyler’s downfall in the end, but for now it kept him in a position of favored pupil. Besides the fact that there was a lot of money riding on this deal, millions of dollars, and he needed Tyler.

  “I think he’s okay,” I finally said. “Carlos seems to respect him.”

  “Good,” Zachary said. “And you? Does he suspect anything?”

  I snorted. “Do you think I’d be breathing if he did?”

  “Okay. Be careful.”

  The static ended abruptly, signaling the end of the call.

  Be careful. Oh, yes, I had a care or two. Things to take care of before I died, but none of it would change the ending. I was like those cartoon characters that ran and ran and looked down, only to find themselves already off a cliff. I’d left solid ground the second I’d supplied Zachary with information. It was only a matter of time before I fell.

  In my closet, one of the few rooms free of cameras, I stowed the phone under the fake bottom of my lingerie drawer. Then I curled up on the cozy bed and read a book. It passed the time anyway, and Carlos liked to find me that way. It made him chuckle that I would read a book, that I had a thought in my head when all I was good for was a cock in the mouth. He appreciated irony, one of the few things we had in common.

  But it wasn’t Carlos who found me that way.

  Tyler stormed in, his face set in sharp slashes of fury. Instinctively, I pulled my knees under me, ready to flee, and put my hands up in defense. He didn’t attack me though, at least not in the way I expected. His hands knocked mine aside and then his lips met mine. It wasn’t a kiss, it was an accusation.

  My mind spun like a top, dizzy. My body had no such confusion, melting into his angry embrace, wetting the thin line of my thong.

  He flipped me over, and I went down, face first. The silk sheets cooled my cheek, chilling the ardor I barely knew existed. Then his mouth was against my ear, whispering.

  “Was it you?” he asked. “Did you tell him after all, hmm?”

  Still sluggish from the surprise or maybe the arousal, I said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t you? Someone told him about a traitor. He’s gone nuts.”

  I sucked in a breath. The kiss, what I’d taken to be seduction, had merely been for the cameras that weren’t even in this room, to distract from the fact that he wanted to have a conversation. Though conversation was too nice a word for the accusations he flung.

  “I didn’t say anything,” I hissed. “Why would I risk him suspecting me?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe you’re not an informant at all. Maybe you’re just feeding me what he wants me to think.”

  Anger washed over me, drowning out the hurt. I shook him off. He allowed me to turn over, but his body kept me trapped against the bed. It was more intimate this way, more sexual. The sky blue of his eyes shocked me, so close. I saw them plenty in my dreams, but always from afar. Even my subconscious knew it was hopeless.

  “I thought you trusted me,” came out on an exhale. Damn. I clamped my mouth shut, hadn’t meant to say that.

  “I’d be an idiot to trust you,” he replied.

  I took the sting as my due. Tyler was a lot of things, but never an idiot. It always came back to this. The ceiling swam above me, as if it were the surface of the ocean and I lay on the sandy floor. This must be why it shocked me to look him in the eye, I realized. There was too much truth there, too much knowledge. It was like looking into the sun—painful. Just look down.

  “I don’t know how I can convince you,” I said. “I’m telling the truth.”

  “Then prove it,” he said into my neck, still playing at the farce of a make-out session. “He’s got an idea that someone’s dirty…someone else who’s undercover. We’re in trouble.”

  “And what should I do—sacrifice myself?” I raised my eyebrow, though I wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t ask it of me.

  “He’s going to go find him now, and it won’t go well. It would blow the whole thing, not to mention mean a death sentence for that guy. I need time to get them out. A distraction.”

  Ah, so I was to be the sacrifice after all. Not a virgin, not anywhere close, but a sacrificial whore.

  “Okay,” I said, as if it didn’t matter, as if it didn’t hurt when he sent me into harm’s way. It was different with Zachary. With him it was all business and maybe a little camaraderie, but he never took me for granted.

  Tyler seemed to think nothing of using me to achieve his ends. His goals were noble, saving those women, but what about me? People who said the end justified the means were never the ones suffering the means. I wasn’t really complaining about my lot in life. No, I’d accepted my whoredom years ago. What shook me was that Tyler accepted it so easily as well.

  “Can you do it?” he asked.

  “I said yes already,” I snapped. He didn’t just think I was a whore, he thought I was a bad one. I led the way downstairs. We found Carlos outside. Tyler went first, conversing with Carlos in front of a black SUV. I took a minute to collect myself, and then joined them.

  “I’ll see for myself,” Carlos said.

  “All right,” Tyler said. “Go on, then. I’ll see you on the sensor from here.”

  He sounded so wholly unconcerned that I would never have known he was worried about it. But if he betrayed any sign that he wanted Carlos to stay, it would be a dead giveaway.

  “Go inside,” Carlos snapped when he saw me.

  “Baby,” I purred, draping my arms around his neck. “I miss you. Come spend time with me. I’ll make you feel so good.”

  He twisted my wrist, flipping my body to the ground in a graceless heap. I caught a glimpse of shocked blue eyes and realized Tyler hadn’t fully understood the violence Carlos directed at me. Even though he worked in the darkness, his mind was filled with light. Tyler couldn’t imagine inflicting that kind of violence on someone, because he never, ever would. And the one time we had been together, he hadn’t seen my scars.

  Just as quickly he masked his shock. It wasn’t a surprise because he was good at his job. That’s why we were here after all, him acting nonchalant and me getting my ass beat. And it was working, as Carlos leaned over me, spitting in my face with his lecture about interrupting my betters.

  “You sniveling little whore,” he raged. “Like I don’t give you everything. A place to stay, food to eat, fancy clothes, and how do you repay me? By getting in my way, demanding more. Greedy puta.”

  I cowered—that part came naturally. And if I wanted to, I could simper, ingratiate myself to him in order to cool his wrath
. But that wouldn’t serve Tyler’s purpose. If Carlos forgot about me, he’d be right back to blowing the sting operation along with Tyler’s cover.

  Already cringing for the blow, I mouthed off. “It’s only because you never pay attention to me. I don’t see what’s the big deal.”

  The blow came, harder than I expected. It was always harder than I expected, no matter how many times I’d been hit. Sex was routine, but muscle memory refused to let me accustom to beatings. As if my own body was working with Carlos, I felt every hit, every cut, like it was my first.

  My face pressed against the grass, incongruously smelling like a fresh spring day and the tang of blood. Carlos yanked up my skirt and spanked me. These weren’t the playful, kinky spanks of a lover, but the beating of a man on a woman. His arm wielded as a club, not stinging, bruising.

  I kept my grunts as soft as possible, not wanting to arouse anymore of Carlos’s ire, not wanting to show Tyler how badly it hurt. He would feel bad if he knew. Even though it was his fault, I didn’t want him to take the blame.

  Tears leaked from my eyes, mixing with the dirt under my face, drawing camouflage on my face. I tried not to imagine how horrible I must look when Carlos yanked me back to stand up.

  “Jesus,” Carlos said. “Look what you did. I have work to do and now I’m busy dealing with a fucking brat.” He shook me as if for an answer, but there wasn’t a question.

  “Martinez, go check on the safehouse,” Carlos barked to Tyler.

  A thick pause followed. What was he waiting for? This was exactly what Tyler needed, ample opportunity for his men to finish whatever operation they were doing and to get out, safe and undetected.

  I flicked my eyes up to find Tyler staring, not at me or even Carlos, but at some point directly in front of me. His eyes burned with intensity, but what it meant, I didn’t know. Anger maybe, for a job well done. He reminded me of myself in that moment, unable to look upon the object of his disappointment. That would be me, I thought sickly, the elephant in the room, the object of shame.

  “Well?” Carlos asked, his silken voice a warning.

  “I’m going.” Tyler yanked open the door to the SUV so hard it rocked on its axle. With one foot inside, he paused as if debating with himself. Without turning, he said, “It shouldn’t take too long. Maybe half an hour. Then I’ll be back and we can go over the new security procedures.”

  He spoke to Carlos, but the message was for me, telling me that he would be back to relieve me soon. Tyler had no idea how much damage could be inflicted in even ten minutes when Carlos was enraged. And I’d never been quite so brazen in my disobedience.

  Chapter Five

  “Did you think you could interrupt me?”

  Thump. The leather belt smacked me between the shoulders. The first blows were always the hardest to take. At least, that’s what I thought until we got to the ones that came after. It was always a shock, every blow, as if my mind had dimmed the memory of every pain before.

  “Do you think I care what you want? What you think?”

  Thwack. The force of the impact jolted my body like the flop of a limp doll on concrete. The pain followed in a wave of aftershocks, radiating from my back out to my fingertips. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t even see anything. A haze of red blanketed my vision, heightening the pain.

  “You are nothing to me. Just a whore, and a stupid one at that.”

  Crack. The belt bit into my back, coiling around my ribs to lick the underside of my breast. A short scream escaped me, abruptly cut off with the impact of the next blow. It rang in the air though—the searing pain, my agony—as he beat me.

  He was hurting me because I’d annoyed him, but the truth of the matter was that I’d only done it for Tyler. I’d betrayed Carlos, and so I deserved the punishment. I deserved worse than this, though as my body lit on fire from the outside in, I couldn’t imagine anything more painful.

  What could hell have to offer me that could compete with this? Maybe God was just expedient that way, getting in some of my licks while I still lived. Or maybe I’d already died, and I would be stuck in this hell for eternity. That was the scariest thought of all. The only thing that made this bearable was knowing that one day I would be free of it. Even hell had to be better than this.

  I heard the slice come through the air, just an innocuous whistle, before the single tail whip flayed my skin. The screams rang out from my throat, wholly detached from my mind. I couldn’t control them anymore than I could control the whip. My skin seared where it split open. As the pain tore through my body, sweat broke out, dripping into the open wounds, burning me. Even my own body betrayed me, causing more pain, showing more weakness.

  They went on and on, each flail of the whip cutting me open, tearing me apart until I was sure I’d never get put back together again. The pain crashed over me in never-ending waves, pulling me under only to thrust me back up to the awareness again.

  Pain continued to reverberate through my back as if he’d never stopped, but he was in front of me, waving his dick in my face. Slapping me, wetting me with the pre-cum at the tip. A jerk of my hair opened my mouth, and then it was filled with cock. Years of training, a lifetime of it, kicked in and I laved the underside with my tongue, relaxed my throat to allow him in deep.

  Bite him. The thought occurred to me, not for the first time, as he fucked my face harshly. I’d die for the transgression, an ugly, painful death with no dignity. Fear and an unshakeable desire for survival had kept me from doing it all this time, but now it wasn’t just my own hide, broken and scarred as it was, on the line. There were those nameless, faceless girls who still had hope for a life.

  And there was Tyler. He was counting on me to help him. He’d asked me to distract Carlos. This was the only way I could. So I sucked him and let my face be raped mercilessly. Every rough thrust was like a coin slipped into the game for one more round—he’d be distracted that much longer. Tyler would be that much safer. The piercing pain of Carlos’s dick popping into my throat, the acute cramp in my neck from craning upward, the hands tight in my hair were the ride itself, a fun-house torture chamber.

  He came with a soft grunt, music to my ears. Salty liquid splashed into the back of my throat. I swallowed it down, knowing that a single drop lost would only mean more pain. The only people who said that you attracted more bees with honey had never been whipped.

  Only once I had balked at swallowing. My childhood training had taught me a lot of things about being a woman, but that particular lesson had been missing. I’d been surprised at the gush of ejaculate. I’d gagged and coughed it out. My punishment that night had been to swallow from every man Carlos had working for him. I learned that lesson well.

  A soft beep pierced the curtain my mind had constructed to protect me from reality, the innocuous bleep of the cell phone incongruous to the noxious blend of blood and rage that hung in the air.

  “Tyler. You back yet?” Carlos snapped. “All right. I’ll be up in a minute.”

  The phone clapped shut and his boots stomped away from me. Without a word, he left, shutting the door and closing me in darkness. I hung my head and slipped away.

  * * *

  My jaw felt like it had turned to stone, clenched shut. Only the low moan emanating from it—from me—told me I was alive. I didn’t want to move. Even in the cocoon of sleep I knew that as soon as I became conscious, as soon as I moved a muscle, the pain would retaliate. A jealous mistress, pain would be too eager to make up for the time lost to dreams.

  But a body keeps on living. I’d learned that lesson early on. Would he come back? Was my punishment over? God, let it be over.

  I wasn’t in the basement. The smell of blood and leather wasn’t here. I figured Carlos had sent Leo down to free me, to put me back in my room. I just hoped he hadn’t given Leo permission to use me first, like he sometimes did.

  My eyes flickered open, shooting warning shocks of pain through me and signaling the nausea to begin. I was coming
back to life, despite myself.

  “Shhh. I’ve got you.” I heard Tyler’s soothing over a mournful wail. It was coming from me.

  His hand stroked down my face in a calming caress, but its path was carefully picked, as if to avoid the bruises there like brambles in a thicket. I’d never wanted him to see me like this.

  I tried to speak again. A croaked sound emerged.

  “Shh, just rest. You’re okay.”

  He sounded so sure, but I had to know. “Where is he?”

  “He’s not here, don’t worry.” But the reassurance came on a razor’s edge.

  I tossed restlessly in the bed, ferreting out every ache, every bruise.

  “Where is he?” I whispered again.

  “He’s out meeting with the suppliers. Trying to calm them down.” Tyler paused. “We got the guy out. You did it.” His voice cracked at the last. “God,” he said, more a sob than a word. “I thought—I never imagined he would do this. Why, Mia? Why do you stay?”

  “Where would I go?” It was a rhetorical question, a flippant answer, but it was the closest thing to the truth. Blinking, I recognized the open ceiling of the warehouse I called home, the exposed rafters and pipes blanketed with dust like moss on a tree. The sheets weren’t slippery like Carlos’s silk or coarse like the threadbare sheets in my own bed. These were soft, and like Goldilocks, I found them just right. I guessed we were in Tyler’s room in the compound, though how he’d gotten me out of the basement I had no idea.

  “But—fuck, Mia. I thought maybe he’d fuck you. Maybe even slap you, if I let myself think about it. But not this. Your back…” His eyes held the horror of what had been done to me, they begged to understand, so I searched for something more concrete.

  I struggled with that, understanding it all myself. “Carlos isn’t all bad,” I finally said.

  Tyler’s eyes flitted down to my bruises and then back to my face in a tacit denial.

  I sighed. “He took me in when I was starving, when I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

  “When was this?” Tyler asked tightly.