by J Bree
We take out the BMW, the same one he picked me up from the airport in, though he winces as he helps me in. “It’s the safest car and has the most trunk space. I’ll replace it if you want me to, baby girl.”
I shake my head at him. That memory is like an old wound. Something that hurts if I fuss with it but the hurt is about how close I was to being safe. How close we both were at avoiding all of the pain and mess that came because I didn’t speak up and he made assumptions.
I quite like the car.
It is a very smooth ride and the windows are tinted so dark no one can see in. Once we’re on the road Illi sets his hand on my knee in-between gear changes, squeezing a little each time before he lets go.
The sun starts to shine through the windows, even with the tinting it feels amazing. I smile up at it. “I’ve never felt so much… peace before. Thank you for that, Illi. Thank you for taking such good care of me.”
He smiles a little and then a little frown forms between his brows. “Was your home life not good before they sold you?”
I hate talking about it but what’s a little discomfort for all he’s done for me? “It wasn’t good. I loved my mother but she… let my father sell me. I don’t think I can forgive her for that.”
His jaw clenches and relaxes, like he’s grinding his teeth. “Did your father… he beat on you?"
We stop at a light and he turns to me, his eyes too intense for me and the heat of them scorches my skin. "Oui. He always disciplined with violence."
His lip curls and his face transforms into a mask of fury, something that I’m sure many men have seen right before they met a bloody death. “I’m going to deal with your dad someday too, baby girl. Once we’ve got you settled in and happy… I’ve got a long list of people that are going to die screaming.”
I swallow and nod, nothing about his words scaring me except maybe the intensity of the meaning. I’m important to him. I’m worth protecting.
We sit in silence for a little longer as he moves us through the traffic with ease, the car handling like perfection.
“What did you call me before, baby girl? Right before you blushed and ran away.”
I blush again but I keep my head from ducking away. “It’s probably not a nice nickname but… it means something to me.”
He shrugs. “You were calling me a monster? I am one, baby girl. It’s not a big deal.”
But that doesn’t sit well with me at all. “I called you ‘my monster’. I lived a very… sheltered life in France. My father kept my mother and I hidden away for most of my life. We would move between small villages, mostly by the sea, and so I never made friends or met many people. I had never met someone like you. My father wore suits and ties. All of his men did too. When I saw you at the airport I was very scared because if those men treated me so badly, then what would such a large man do to me?”
I swallow and look out of the window. “You said you were wrong for judging me that day? I was too.”
He stops for a red light and switches the radio off. “Baby girl, you were right in what you said. I am a monster. I do a lot of bad shit and before you, I didn’t give a fuck about who I did it to. I’m not saying I’ve changed but… things are different for me now.”
The car moves forward again and when his hand comes back to rest on my knee I cover it with my own. “I don’t care if you’re a monster. Maybe… maybe you are my monster.”
He threads his fingers thread through mine and he brings my hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss there. “I’ll be your monster, baby girl.”
Warmth pools in my stomach.
I blush again but smile at him. How can I feel anything but precious when he treats me like this? It’s irresistible.
We arrive at the art supplies store and Illi growls at me when I move to get out of the car without his help so I sit there dutifully as he walks around and opens my door. He watches everyone on the streets like they’re armed and about to start shooting at me. I don’t know enough about this city to know if he’s being overprotective, so I tuck myself into his side and let him glare out at everyone.
The warmth of his body soaks through my clothes and into my skin, settling into my bones like a brand. I’m addicted to being with him, having him this close to me and sheltering my body with his. He has become vital to me and my survival, something to anchor myself to in this crazy world I’ve been dropped in but… I don’t think I’d choose anything else. I think he’s truly what I want for myself.
It’s wonderful and terrifying.
When we walk into the store it’s clear Illi isn’t here to find the basics because he doesn't just buy me the bare essentials I need to start painting again. He buys me an easel, the finest brushes in an array of sizes, oil paints in every color and that my father would never have dreamt to buy me back home. He buys me everything and doesn't once ask questions or raise a brow. If I glance at something, it goes into the shopping cart.
The shop assistant follows us around with a fine sheen of sweat over his brow, wringing his hands and jumping every time one of us addresses him. Illi holds my hand sweetly, gently as if he's afraid of crushing it in his big hands, and I feel... safe.
I startle a little at the total once everything is rung up but Illi doesn't hesitate in handing his card over.
He leans down to whisper in my ear, "Last chance, baby girl, anything else you need? You sure you don't want some pencils or something? The guy said you might want them for... something."
I smile and stare up at him, squeezing his hand. "I have everything I need right here."
As soon as the words leave my lips I know what I really mean. I don't ever want to leave him. Not now and not ever. He might not be a good man but he's the best man I have ever known and I don’t think I will ever find someone better.
He stares down at me and I frown back at him, murmuring, “Mon monstre?"
He grabs our bags in one hand and tugs me out of the store with the other, ignoring the looks the assistant gives us. I tuck my hair behind my ear, sure that I look like a mess, and he growls as he untucks it.
"You look beautiful, even fucking better because you’re wearing my coat. Don't get self conscious just because that dick can't keep his fucking eyeballs to himself. It's me he's freaking out over anyway."
I nod and tuck myself in closer to his big body. He curves around me like a shield and walks me out to his car, opening the door and helping me in like a true gentleman.
I spend the entire drive back to the apartments grinning and laughing with excitement, listening to all of the little stories Illi has about the city he claims to hate but knows so intimately.
We get back to the apartment and he refuses to let me carry anything, directing me back up the stairs and to grab the door for him while he carries everything up with ease.
There’s a bumping noise below our feet and I startle, looking over at Illi. “Is there something under us here? A tunnel or something people can get into the building with?”
He frowns down at the ground and then glances back up to me. “It’s okay, baby girl. My workshop is downstairs. Something must have fallen over. I’ll get you set up and then I’ll go check it out. Grab the door, baby.”
I do, trusting him implicitly.
He walks everything into the living room, setting it down on the couch with care. I grin at him, excited about spending the day painting and sketching. “Is there another room I can paint in? It will be very messy to have here.”
He shrugs, getting to work setting up the easel and positioning it so I’m looking out over the water. He knows exactly where I like to sit and the exact spot that catches the afternoon sun. I blush when I realize just how much he watches me, the care he takes in giving me space to lay around and deal with my demons. He knows just when I need my quiet, when I need to lay there and process exactly what has happened to me.
I also know that he doesn’t want to talk to me until after he’s washed his hands. Sometimes not until he’s had a shower,
on the mornings he comes home covered almost entirely in blood.
He’s too good to me.
“Is this everything, baby girl? If the store was missing anything we can order it for you. Anything.”
I smile and start to open up the paints, squeezing colors out onto the palettes and mixing them. “This is perfect, mon monstre. Thank you.”
He leans forward to kiss my forehead, his hand cupping the back of my head gently. Then he steps away, leaving me to my work.
I lose all sense of time but in the best way possible.
When I finally come back to my body, my painting is done. The first sunrise I had seen here at the apartment now shining back at me in an array of wet oils. Tears fill my eyes as I stare at it, my eyelids drooping. I haven’t slept for hours and hours, mon monstre will be up soon.
I glance back and find him sleeping on the couch, his arm behind his head angling him so I know he fell asleep watching me paint.
I stare at him, burning the image of him sleeping there into my brain to paint later and then… then I’m brave.
I crawl into his arms and fall asleep with him, comfortable even when he pulls me in close.
Chapter Eighteen
Illi
I get the call from D’Ardo a week after I’d beat the shit out of him.
My house reeks of paint all the time and I’m fucking gleeful about it. I never knew Odie was an artist. I mean, she was always doodling on scraps of paper and the backs of her hands, but it’s not until I see that sunrise that I know she’s an artist and a fucking talented one at that.
She paints during her every waking hour and I swear to fucking god, it’s like watching the life slowly drain back into her. She laughs and smiles, jokes with me, and dances around in the mornings before she gets to work.
I know we can’t stay in the docks forever, this isn’t the right place for a girl like her to live, but now I have a plan.
I’m building her some big fucking mansion with an art room, something with a view that she’ll love and paint. We’ll be fucking happy there. She’s going to be happy there and I’ll keep the warehouse for my work.
I just have to go deal with this dickhead first.
Just so long as he’s got his head out of his ass. I kiss Odie on the cheek as I leave, the giggle she gives me sends blood to my dick, and I practically fucking skip down the stairs to my car. I check the guy in the basement, still breathing, and because I’m in such a fucking great mood I give the fucker some water.
What can I say; I’m a fucking saint, man.
I get into the car, ready to hunt down the lead the Coyote had given me, when D’Ardo’s call comes through.
“I have a job for you, if you’re interested. Something quick and easy.”
I rev the engine as I take off in my Mustang, a cigarette lit between my lips. “So you’re not going to be a dick anymore, then? You’ve decided to remember I’m your oldest and most loyal friend?”
He grunts down the line at me. “You could have reminded me without shattering my cheekbone, asshole. I’ve cut three of my men apart just this morning for trying to make a joke about it.”
Serves him right. “What’s the job then, dickhead? I’m on my way to something but I might be able to squeeze you in.”
He chuckles under his breath. “A pick up. I’ve already told the guy you’re coming so he’s hiding under a fucking rock for you. You like them pissing themselves at the sight of you, don’t you Butcher?”
I do but I don't like the way he’s saying that. “What’s the guy done?”
He laughs and then I hear the grunt as his face hurts. Good. “He’s helping me out with a project. Nothing big, he might not even be the guy I need but it’s worth a shot. I’ll pay you double your last fee, take it as my apology for talking about your… new woman.”
The pause feels disrespectful but... double the fee… the mansion I’m going to build Odie is half paid for with that alone. “Sure. Send me the details and I’ll stop by with him later.”
I hang up and head out to the fishing district, further up the coast. The streets here are cleaner, less working and the homeless population thins out the further away from the slums you get.
I park my car up and head out to find a good vantage spot.
The Viper needs to know all about the Chaos Demons’ business in the Bay. They’re originally from Texas, though they have a few chapters dotted around the country, they never get this close to the Bay normally. The shipments that I caught Chance on are a new deal, something they’re only been doing the last few months, and they’ve been flying under the radar mostly. Whatever the Viper thinks they’re up to, it’s big.
He’s paid a lot of money to me to chance up leads.
Three mansions worth of money over the last few weeks, more than I usually make from him in the fights. I haven’t even thought about going to one lately, nothing interests me more than the chase for Odie’s trust and affection. The drive to get her to want me like I do her.
I’m going to own her in all of the ways you can’t buy at the auction and fuck me, it’s going to taste so fucking sweet.
I can’t think about it while I’m working or I’ll find myself face-to-face with a Demon and a rock hard dick. Bad combination.
It’s been too fucking long with these blue balls on mine.
Worth it.
I stand in the shadows and wait, looking out at the giant fishing boats as they start to come alive. They usually head out just after midnight and the time is almost here.
I light another cigarette as I wait and I hear the roar of the motorcycles as they descend down into the lot. Fuck, there must be forty bikers here, an impossible number to slip through the city unnoticed.
I hold my breath, stub out the cigarette and wait until they’ve parked up. Then I see it; there are Unseen amongst the Demons.
Traitors.
Well, well, well, I wonder if the Boar knows about this shit going down in his city with his men? I stand there and keep watch, only picking up bits and pieces of the conversation but enough that I know exactly what the Demons are up to.
The war with the Unseen has been taken to a whole new level.
I stand there for three hours, listening in and taking in as many faces as I can. There’s a lot I can tell the Viper about his businesses but there’s a helluva lot more I can sell to the Boar.
A lot I can tell Roxas and Harbin to keep them out of the firing line too.
When it’s finally safe to leave without being spotted I leave, checking the info D’Ardo sent through and swinging past the office buildings to pick this terrified guy up for him.
He’s unconscious and tied up in my trunk in minutes.
He’s a nerdy looking guy, all glasses and cheap suits. Fuck knows what D’Ardo could possibly get from him. Probably a chemist, someone to help out with his solvent houses. The cartel have been bringing meth into the country in fuel tanks, easy to hide from border control, then the shipment goes to the solvent houses to be processed and packaged for sale. D’Ardo has eight of them set up around the city, spread out enough that if one of them gets busted by some rookie cop who doesn’t know any better, the whole operation doesn’t go down at once.
The guy wakes up in my trunk on the way over and starts yelling and thumping around. If he kicks the taillights out I’ll fucking gut him. I park up next to D’Ardo’s car for an easy transfer over and shrug my leather jacket on now the nights are starting to cool down. I want to be in and out, the beautifull girl waiting back home for me at the front of my mind, but I need to get a read on D’Ardo before I go.
Is he really back in his box or am I going to have to remind him?
The Dive is busy tonight, more gangsters and bikers than I’ve seen for a while. Makes me twitchy, especially when I see a few of the rats who were just out meeting the Demons. Nothing fucking worse than a rat.
I find D’Ardo in the back at one of the private tables, drinking and watching the fights. The guys in the
cage are total amateurs, fucking pathetic.
He smirks at me and waves a full glass of whiskey at me. “Did you find the guy?"
I grab the glass and knock it back in one go, motioning for the bartender to bring me another. "Of course I did, getting him here was fucking nothing. Where's my money?"
He chuckles under his breath, his eyes staying on the fight, and I struggle to keep my cool. The arrogance coming off of him is still a palpable thing and it grates on me.
He'll always be the skinny, desperate kid I met in foster care to me.
“The bags are under the table. Where did you leave him? I'll get him picked up."
I check it's really there first, because I know just how fucking bad the Jackal really is at paying his dues, and once I see the loaded duffles I jerk my thumb at the back loading docks. Two of D’Ardo’s dumbass flunkies head over to collect the nerd from where he's gagged and bound in the trunk of my car.
I drink the second glass while I watch the last of the fight, one of the guys tapping out way too fucking quickly for my taste. I scoff at the sight, turning on my heel to get the fuck out of here and back to my place.
D’Ardo throws his arm out in my direction, something he does when he’s had too much to drink. “Stay. One more drink won’t hurt, or have you turned into a pussy now you have one in your house?”
My jaw clenches but I take a seat. How the fuck he knows about her, I have no idea but I’m going to gut whoever it was that told him… unless it was the kid. She would have only done it to stop one of his jealous rages and I wouldn’t blame her for it.
I drink one last drink with him, certain it’s the last one we’ll have as friends. He’s not getting that I’m not his to lord over.
I’m the Butcher of the fucking Bay, and I’d rather gut him than be inducted by him.
