The Butcher of the Bay: Part I (Mounts Bay Saga Book 1)
Page 6
I'll take her to her job, look her up, and do this shit the right fucking way.
Even if the thought of some other guy touching her makes me see eight shades of blood red and my fingers itch for my cleaver. Fuck. Okay, it's fine. Don't rage out and murder half the fucking city in a jealous rage, no matter how bad you want to own her.
Fuck me.
Her eyebrows raise a little at me and I try to relax my jaw a bit so I don't crack my fucking teeth. I offer her my arm and she stares down at it like it's a weapon. I mean, it is but I don't want her thinking I'm some thug, so I wrap it around her waist instead and walk her through the building, safe at my side from whoever might be dumb enough to try and take my girl.
Fuck.
Not my girl.
Nah, fuck it. My girl. She's going to be, whatever it takes. Fuck, I'll have to call the Vulture and get more details about her. Enough that I can take my time in seducing her. I feel like some horny teenager again, except I skipped over the fumbling part and went straight to banging anything with a pulse that looked hot in heels. Fuck. I can't think about her heels and those legs, not with her pressed up against me, all warm and soft.
She doesn't make a sound the whole way out.
I try to keep my attention on the tasks ahead, triple checking there's no one following us or so much as glancing our way. She follows my lead perfectly, pausing when we need to and ducking her face away so she attracts a little less attention which is great because she's a fucking showstopper.
When we get to the main doors I pause to check out how things look outside and I see some anxiety in those sexy, fuck-me eyes of hers. Well, that won't fucking do.
"It's okay, baby girl. I'm the best in the Bay, there's no one who can get past me. I'll get you to where you're going without a hitch."
She swallows and nods. I feel fucking cut she won't speak to me, what kind of pussy am I, but I keep my word and get her to the car so fast her feet barely touch the ground. I open the door for her like a fucking gentleman and help her into the backseat. That dress of hers rides up a little and my soul leaves my fucking body.
I need those fucking thighs wrapped around my head.
Right the fuck now.
If she wasn't sitting there, all class and perfect fucking ass, I'd just drive her home but something tells me I need to impress the fuck out of this woman to get her attention and pulling a caveman isn't it. Just drive her to her fucking job and then look her up later.
That same mantra is on repeat in my head as I get in and start the car, letting the engine warm up as I unstrap a few of my weapons so they're close if I need them. I hear a little gasp in the back and meet those eyes in the mirror.
"It's okay, I know how to use them. You're in capable hands."
She nods again, swallowing, and something not quite right hits my gut. I shake it off, I'm just being a jealous fuck, and I pull the car out and into the stream of traffic. I check my mirrors a whole lot more than I usually do, this job being the most important one of my life, and also because I get to look at her every time I do.
The silence starts to grate on me.
"What do I have to do to get you to talk to me, baby girl. I need to hear that sweet voice of yours for myself."
She shrugs, and looks out the window. "Il n’y a rien de gentil dans ce que je t’ai à te dire, monstre."
Holy.
Fucking.
Shit.
I nearly nut myself.
I didn't know I had a thing for breathy, low tones in some other language and yet here I am, panting over her a little more. I mean, the legs and ass, tits and lips, that was enough to have me hot for her but the voice... fuck me, she's it. She's the side project I fucking need.
Maybe I understand D'Ardo a little more now.
But no, I don't get him because there's nothing about this woman I want to break... except maybe her brain from coming too long and too hard at the end of my dick.
"Do you understand what I'm saying, baby girl, or is this all just noise to you?"
She nods again without looking at me. Instead, she stares out at the streets of the Bay, the dirty and the broken. There's nothing beautiful about this place. She's probably wishing she hadn't taken the job.
I wouldn't want to be here either.
"You've probably never been to a city like this before. The Bay used to be the playground for the young and rich, the coast line was always a big drawcard." I say when I wait for the lights I'm stuck at to turn green. My phone buzzes in my pocket but I ignore it entirely. No way I give a shit about anything else right now.
"Well, the same way it always happens, drugs took hold of the city and crime started getting pretty bad. There's a lot of kingpins in this place. Do you know which one you'll be... working with?"
She frowns out of the window and shakes her head a little.
If it's D'Ardo I may kill him, rip his throat right out with my teeth. Deep breath. “Well, there’s a lot of them here. The Bay is… not the kind of place you want to stay long term. Not without someone to hold you down, keep you safe. You hear me, baby girl?”
She nods, chews on that lush lip of hers and I’m jealous as fuck. I want it between my teeth. Fuck. I need to stop thinking about it before I take the wrong turn and drive her back to my place but it’s all I can think about.
I need a distraction.
I flick the radio on to some rock song, way too much talk about love and loss for me but the bombshell in the back relaxes into the seat with a sigh. Right. I’ll keep it on this then, even if it is some bullshit boy band.
I slow my driving down, not giving a fuck about making it to the docks on time, just enjoying the sight of this gorgeous woman relaxed in the backseat of my bulletproof car. Safe and secure under my watchful eyes.
There’s only so many times I can circle the block before I have to admit we’ve arrived at the docks and take her in.
I think about offering her extra, here and now, but I also don’t want to start shit with her that way.
I get the feeling once I get her in my bed… she’s never fucking leaving it.
I pull the car up and park it carefully, more to keep my passenger resting than anything to do with the car. The Vulture is already here waiting and, surprise surprise, D’Ardo and his flunkies are standing around with him. I’m about to rage out and shoot someone, sure that D’Ardo bought my girl to break apart, when another car pulls up alongside mine. The guys who get out are obviously cartel and they nod at me respectfully as they peer into the backseat. Fuck.
At least it’s not D’Ardo.
“End of the line, baby girl.” I murmur low and smooth so I don’t startle the sleeping beauty, and her eyes flutter open in the back. She looks peaceful for a second, the edges of her mouth quirking upward, and then she glances out of the window at the men and her face drops.
I don’t like that.
Not one fucking bit.
“What’s that face for, baby girl?”
She glances back at me, all wide eyes and pursed lips, and for a second I think she’s going to speak to me. Then she shakes her head and the fire is back in her eyes.
Hm. Maybe she just wasn’t looking forward to the job. I open my mouth to tell her she doesn’t have to go with him, fuck I’ll put a bullet in all of their heads right the fuck now just for shits and gigs, when her car door opens and one of the men motions her out.
Still she doesn’t say a fucking word.
I’d think she was mute if I hadn’t already heard those sexy breathy tones of hers at work.
Irritation prickles down my spine and I blow out a breath. Here I am, sitting in this car with blue balls, pissed off like some chump. Fuck that, I just need to find some other chick to fuck tonight, burn this one right out of my system by burying myself in some quality Bay pussy.
I get out of the car and look back over to where she is, standing by the cartel with the curve of her ass making me weak at the fucking knees.
There’s no way
in hell I’m getting her out of my head.
She glances up at me and her shoulders roll back, her eyes taking me in one last time, flaring wide with the fire she has, and then she speaks.
“Thank you for delivering me to my rapist, Monster. I look forward to seeing you in hell, because helping these men will certainly get you there.”
I have no fucking clue what she’s saying but, fuck, my dick likes the sound of it. Fuck, I’m going to pay for a week with her. As I walk over to D’Ardo and the Vulture I do the calculations in my head and I think I can afford a couple of months with her if she’s not interested in anything else.
I’ll fuck her right out of my head.
The Vulture smirks at me and kicks a duffle bag of cash towards me. Fucking cockhead. I ignore it and jerk my head at D’Ardo, glancing down at the kid by his side. She’s glaring at the ground, scuffing those big boots of hers against the cracks in the road and the weeds sprouting up. D’Ardo leans down to murmur something in her ear and the change is instant; the glare is gone, her face is that perfectly blank mask that she wears around him.
I fucking hate it.
Tugging at my jacket, I pull a cigarette out and light it. I’ve never given a fuck about the kid before, why would I suddenly give a fuck about D’Ardo’s mind games with her? Today is messing with my fucking head. I glance over my shoulder at the car again, as if the bombshell is a magnet and demanding my attention.
Fuck I want to give it all to her.
Every fucking second of it.
“She sure is something, isn’t she, Butcher?” The Vulture says, and I turn back to him with a sneer.
“We’re not friends, I’m not here to flap gums with you, Vincenzo.”
His lip curls, and he slicks his hair back like some two-bit, slimy gangster. “Zero respect. I don’t know why you keep this guy around, Jackal.”
D’Ardo shrugs and slings an arm over the kid. She shifts away from him, so minutely that no one else probably notices, but I didn’t become the best of the best because I miss shit.
Fuck, am I finally growing a fucking conscience?
Is that pro’s power so fucking good to a man’s soul that you only have to sit in a fucking car with her to become a changed man?
I need a drink.
I need some violence and chaos. I need blood on my hands and a man screaming at my feet and I need it fucking now.
The Vulture leaves with his men and D’Ardo steps forward to finish his business with the lucky fuck from the cartel with the hottest woman in the world in his backseat. I stand there, looking out over the water and try to contain my jealous, blood-thirsty nature.
The kid just stands there with me and stares at me like I'm a pile of shit.
I frown at her. She never does that shit, she always treats me better than I deserve, especially considering how fucking badly I treat her. The bad feeling only gets worse.
D'Ardo finishes up with the cartel, a shake of their hands and the deal is sealed. If this guy can drop high seven figures on that amazing piece of ass for the night then I can only guess how much he's just sold to D'Ardo. His business is getting fucking huge, big enough that he's taking out the other dealers in the state.
He's probably going to be the biggest player in the damn state at this rate.
I already hate the idea of that, he’s a fucking dick half the time as it is, but he’s a grown man and that’s his own business. I’ll just stick to my own shit and refuse to drink with him if he brings all of his fucking posse with him. There’s eight men here now for this little meeting, for fuck’s sake. It’s pathetic.
I crush the cigarette under my boot and light another one, watching the car drive off with my girl.
Fuck.
I need a drink.
Or maybe I need to wade my ass into the mess that is the Chaos Demons and find that kid. Piss his daddy off. Start a war and keep myself real fucking busy with blood and pain for a few months, clear my head some before I go after this girl.
I glance down at the kid and pure loathing is rolling off of her in waves.
Not having that, not today and not with the mood I’m now in.
I catch her arm and pull her into me, murmuring under my breath where D'Ardo won't hear us, "Why do you keep looking at me like that, kid?"
She shrugs like it's nothing but her voice betrays just how fucking pissed she really is. "I always knew you were a killer, Butcher, but I didn't know you were a shitty human being as well.”
This little girl has watched me torture men, kill them, carve them to pieces as they beg me to stop. She's seen me in the ring and knows no man ever leaves those fights with me alive. She's seen me bend chicks over barstools and fuck them in the middle of raves.
One sentence from the bombshell and she hates me?
Something is fucking wrong here.
My fingers tighten around her arm. "You speak her language?"
She nods. Fuck. "What did she just say."
The kid tries to pull away but my fingers tighten even more around her arm, enough to leave marks but bruises mean nothing to this tiny little slip of a kid.
She huffs and rolls her eyes at me. "Don't act innocent now, Butcher. You did the deed, you got your money, all is right in the Bay. That's how you work right? No lines, green is green, fuck everyone else.”
D'Ardo turns to see us both glaring at each other. I see the jealousy from a mile away, he doesn't like me touching her, but I ignore it. Too much is at stake here.
The kid doesn’t like that jealousy at all though, and leans forward to snap, "She said 'thank you for delivering her to her death. She looks forward to seeing you in hell, because helping her rapists will certainly get you there.' Nothing too out there, right? She was pretty generous with her words, if I'd been sold off to the cartel at a skin auction my speech would have been a little more fucking colorful."
No.
Absolutely fucking not.
I did not just deliver her to someone against her will.
She didn't run, she didn't ask for help, she was calm the whole fucking way. There's no way. No way.
My hand drops but I don't step away. "She was there for a job, not against her will."
I don't know if I'm trying to convince myself or the kid but she scoffs at me. "Whatever you say, Butcher. She seems to think otherwise."
D'Ardo saunters up, ready to start shit because there's nothing he hates more than being ignored but fuck him, I don't care. "Why didn't she say something to me? She understood what I was saying, kid. She knew English, she could have-"
D'Ardo snorts at me, cutting me off and I straighten up, reminding him that I could kill him without fucking sweating if I felt the need.
I'm kinda feeling the need.
"So you delivered a piece of ass to the cartel here, who gives a fuck. She'll be dead before dawn, Alvaro doesn't like them being around for too long. Fuck, she might be dead already! Word is he likes fucking them once their cold too, sick fuck. So there, all over with. Let's get a fucking drink."
D'Ardo and I have been as close as brothers since foster care.
That means sweet fuck all to me when I knock him the fuck out, right there at the docks, surrounded by his twitchy, blithering flunkies who don't make a move to stop me.
The kid just watches as her little stalker crumples to the ground, then glances back up at me. "You really didn't know?"
My chest starts to heave as I suck in air to try to contain the rage in me. I'm such a fucking idiot! "Kid, there was no fear in her. Nothing until she got into that other car and spat those words at me. Nothing fucking like it. What was I supposed to think? Not once did anyone say she was bought against her will."
Fuck.
Now I need D'Ardo conscious and awake to tell me where the fuck the cartel were heading. I can get her back.
I can fucking get her back.
Chapter Seven
Odie
The car smells of cocaine.
It’s one of my father’s
favorite party favors, something I grew up around and know a lot about, so I know the second I sit down what it is I’m smelling. I try not to breathe too deeply, not wanting to get high accidentally.
I watch as the man who delivered me here, the biggest monster of all, glances back at me as if he wants to come speak to me. I couldn’t possibly take that. I could barely handle him talking to me in the car, his soothing voice and pet names for me like a balm over the wounds I’ve endured over the last few days. To know that he was here to help in my capture and sale… it was too much for me.
I look away.
Better to put him out of my mind and lock him away with the older woman who had betrayed our entire gender where his voice and gentle arm cannot cut my soul anymore.
He had held me as if I meant something to him.
I could feel it in every inch of his muscled arm wrapped around me, the care he was taking with me, the protective force that he was as he moved me to the car. I wonder how much he was paid to pick me up and deliver me to these men?
I wonder how he’ll sleep tonight.
I curse myself for thinking about him and focus myself on not breathing too hard, my lungs starting to tingle and protest at the shortened breaths.
There’s a small delay and then the car doors open all at once and three large men all take their seats, two up front and one in the back with me. I stiffen in my seat and he chuckles, running a finger down my arm without a care over my reaction.
I pull away without thinking.
I wonder if I’m to be married to one of them or if I’m being taken somewhere to be killed instead.
I cut the thought off as soon as it flits across my mind, my chest aching to breathe more, deeper, longer, just more.
They ignore my obvious panic and start to discuss their business venture, with enough veiled details that I’m confused. If they were completely open I’d know I was going to be killed, witnesses can’t spill secrets if they’re dead. My mind whirls into a panic and I fight to keep the keening cry from spilling out of me.