Thomas
Brown eyes welcomed me back into the land of real.
And all at once, I decided I hated sleep. If she was here, sleep was a barrier I didn’t need. Though, as much as I’d tried to make the most of having her with me in my bed, my Dove passed out in the space between two and three in the morning.
I might’ve had some questionable morals, but there were plenty of lines I refused to cross. Having intercourse with a sleeping woman was just one of them.
“I want to stay, but we can’t stay locked away here forever.”
Her voice was clear as though she’d been awake much longer than me, stewing on her thoughts.
I shifted closer, my hand gripping her hip. Our legs were intertwined, the touch of her skin, and the fact she was here when I thought she’d escape to her room at first light made my dick excruciatingly hard, and my chest squeeze.
“Tom?” she questioned with a tiny smile, and I realized I’d just been staring at her. Admiring the way the morning light dripped over her delicate features and lit up the bronze specks in her dark eyes.
I yawned and turned my head to smother it with my pillow. Turning back, I mumbled, “If you’re worried about your fed, don’t be. He’ll give in like the rest of them have.”
The conversation woke me up, thanks to the annoyance that stemmed from the subject matter.
Little Dove rose onto an elbow, her hair falling into her face. My fingers gently nudged it back.
“Miles,” she stopped, correcting herself, “Milo … I don’t know. He’s gone to a lot of effort. He won’t give in easily, if at all.”
I dropped my hand, but she took it in hers. “He will if he knows what’s good for him.”
Jemima’s eyes bulged, which made me chuckle. “Never fear, Dove. If you want him alive, even if it kills me, I’ll respect your wishes.” Though I longed to pluck off every one of his fingers, then remove his hands, for simply touching her.
“You’re a sweet monster.”
I brought her hand to my lips. “Above all else. What I feel for you rises above all else.”
Her eyes glistened.
A series of bangs thundered on the door. “Tom, wake up.”
Jemima sat up, the gray sheet pressed to her chest. “It’s okay,” I said. “He won’t come in.”
Another bang on the door. “I know you’re, ah, occupied, but you have a visitor. One you’ve been waiting for.”
I sat up in a flash, calling, “Give me ten.” Looking over at Jemima, I asked, “Want to shower with me?”
A nervous laugh tinkled through the room as she kicked her legs over the side of the bed, collecting her dress and bra. “Maybe another time.”
“You know I will hold you to that.”
She dropped the sheet, and my heart slid into my throat as her rosy nipples pebbled and she stretched her arms over her head. Little tease. “Come here.”
She snapped her bra on, then tugged her dress over her head. “No, I’ve got morning breath.”
I smacked my lips together with a cringe. “Good point.”
Her laughter followed her out of the room, and I stared down at my hard dick, sighing.
Beau and Sage were sitting at my kitchen counter as I shrugged my jacket on and entered the room.
“…can’t just borrow someone’s hacksaw,” Beau was saying, his tattooed hands wrapped around a coffee mug.
“Why the hell not?” Sage asked, turning the page in today’s paper.
Beau shot him an incredulous look, of which Sage ignored. “That’s a personal thing, man. There’s memories attached to it.”
I nodded at Murry in thanks as I took the cup of coffee he held out to me, ignoring the knowing smirk on his face.
“Tom, can I borrow your hacksaw?”
“No,” I said, then looked at Beau. “He’s downstairs?”
He nodded, glancing over at the door. “I stuffed a gag in for you. He’s a noisy son of a bitch.”
“Appreciated.” I turned to Murry. “Lou?”
“She’s upstairs doing Jemima’s hair.”
Both men’s eyes landed on me at hearing that, Beau’s nose still showing slight signs of bruising from where my Dove had nailed him. “How’d you get him?”
“We came by to check in and saw the beat-up old truck farther down the road.”
“Nothing like a run through the woods in the morning,” Sage murmured, taking a sip of coffee.
“Caught him near the creek where he slipped on a rock.” Beau drummed his fingers on the countertop. “He wouldn’t say shit.”
“Which will make it all the more enjoyable.” Sage licked a finger, turning another page.
After taking lengthy gulps of my coffee, I set the mug down and moved to the basement door. “Anything else I should know?”
Beau tilted a shoulder. Sage shook his head.
“Make sure Lou stays away from the kitchen.” Murry knew the drill, and although the basement was soundproof, I didn’t like to risk it.
My steps were slow. A warning that I was coming, and I wasn’t in a hurry.
The room was bathed in darkness, but it was my domain, my safe place, so every detail was imprinted in my mind. The darkness didn’t bother or hinder me.
But it apparently bothered my visitor.
Muffled complaints tainted the air, along with the harsh stench of sweat. Fear did strange things to people.
Some passed out.
Some urinated on themselves.
Some had bowel movements they couldn’t control.
Some sweated profusely.
Some shook until their teeth rattled.
The list goes on, and judging by the fellow lying on my chair, he was scared, but he had some control. Which told me plenty. He knew about me, so he knew the risks of the job he’d been working.
Still standing in the dark, I let him work himself up some more, then decided it was time.
The light flickered on over our heads, the room aglow in a dull, swaying yellow.
The whites of my visitor’s eyes exploded, and muscles strained in his neck as he heaved unsteady breaths around the gag stuffed into his mouth. His hair was a bushy black and gray, his blue eyes bloodshot and lined with wrinkles, and his bottom lip busted. No doubt thanks to one of my friends upstairs.
I snapped some gloves on and pulled up a stool to sit beside him.
He didn’t make a sound, yet thrashed against his bonds. “I’m sure you know why you’re here.”
The idiot had the nerve to shake his head.
“Let me repeat that,” I said, leaning back and nabbing a needle from the prepped tray behind me. “I’m sure you know why you’re here.”
His beefy hand was red, and I gripped it tightly. With the tiniest bit of pressure, I pierced the skin beneath his thumbnail, then pushed. He squealed, nodding his head as his eyes watered.
Slowly, I pulled the needle out. “Oh, ready to talk already?”
He nodded emphatically.
To make sure, I repeated the process on every finger, his muffled shouts and thrashing body white noise as I calmly removed the needle from his pinky finger and tossed it into the jar of antiseptic.
I tugged the gag free and laid it down beside him on the chair, then waited as his red face took me in, water still leaking from his bloodshot eyes. “You sick fuc—”
“Anyone who’s ever been in your position has said it all before. I know what I am, so please don’t bore me and waste our time.” I scooted closer, my voice menacing as I seethed, “Now, tell me who you are and why you’re here.”
He considered me a moment, a moment that was about to cost him severely, but then finally, he admitted, “I was hired to follow you.”
I waited. Because surely, he knew that wasn’t going to cut it.
“To get any information I could on you, and to …”
“To what?” I asked carefully even as my blood raged for vengeance.
“Your daughter. I was asked to find proof she wasn’t yours, but I couldn’t, and then I was told to … to just t-take her.”
Without even looking, I grabbed the shears from the tray. Never mind that he was talking, or that there was more to be said, my heart couldn’t cope with the idea of someone taking my sunlight.
“W-wait,” he stammered. “The fuck? I told you!”
He thrashed as I stuffed the gag back into his mouth.
“I know,” I said and wrapped the metal around the tip of his thumb. “But before, I was curious. Now, well, as I’m sure you can understand”—my hand squeezed the handles, and his screams, even muffled, drowned out the sound of the metal slicing through nail and skin—“I’m enraged.”
I stopped right above the bone. Bones were troublesome things, and I didn’t like to waste time. I’d rather pluck someone’s teeth out than hack through bones.
That was a chore I saved for special visitors.
He continued to writhe and scream, and I stared as the blood ran rivulets down his hand, over the restraints, and left droplets on the chair.
I became nothing but collected rage at the thought of people conspiring against me in that way. It was one thing to attempt taking me down, but another entirely to involve my heart.
When he’d quieted some, I removed the gag, and asked, “Who asked you to take my daughter?”
Whoever it was, he mustn’t have feared them much. He gave the information easily. “He was an agent, Milo or some, fuck me,” he groaned, spit dribbling down his chin, his blood coated hand clenching, as he hissed through his teeth, “s-something like that.”
I sighed, knowing I’d have to somehow break it to my Dove that the fed had to die after all.
“You’re not a cop?”
He shook his head. “No, shit. No. But I work small jobs for undercover guys. I wasn’t even going to take this one, but he offered me ten grand and paid half up front. Plus, m-my accommodation and airfare.”
My teeth threatened to turn to dust, grinding as I gritted, “You offered to take a child for ten grand?”
He swallowed. “I wouldn’t have hurt her, I swear. I just needed the—”
The gag shut him up, and I grabbed my favorite knife.
I pressed the intercom, and Beau picked up with a whistle. “Done already?”
“I lost my temper.”
Beau laughed.
“Just get down here or send Murry if he’s free. This one weighs a ton.”
Beau trudged down the stairs a moment later, and I handed him the box of gloves.
We loaded the body onto a tarp, wrapped it up, then set it in the far corner.
“Think you and Sage could get it out of here?”
“Pigs?” he asked, smearing some blood between his fingers. The plastic glove crinkled as he opened and closed the digits.
“Half and half. The drums have been refilled.”
He watched as I rolled up the soiled chair cover and tossed it into the fire I’d lit before he’d walked downstairs.
Then I went to the sink in the bathroom and plugged it, dumping a heap of bleach into it, followed by the shears, knife, and needles.
“He say why he was strolling through the woods like an amateur?” Beau asked as I rummaged through the cleaning supplies in the cabinet beside him.
“If he were that much of an amateur, why didn’t you or Sage find him until now?”
Beau sighed. “Admittedly, I didn’t bother looking that much.” When I glared, he shrugged. “I thought it was just another fed, and Sage felt the same.”
“Just another fed?”
“Come on, man. He was after the fed’s girl. He lost, and the asshole can’t let go. Hiring someone to find her wasn’t going to do shit.” Another shrug. “So, we didn’t think the risk was all that high.”
“He was after Lou.”
“Fuck.”
“Hmm.” I sprayed the chair, then wiped it clean as Beau choked on his guilt.
“Tom,” he started.
“Don’t worry about it.” I looked at him then, and snarled, “But know I don’t give a fuck who you are, where you came from, or what you can do; you’re no friend of mine if you can’t even do me the courtesy of telling me you’re not going to hunt someone properly.”
I’d met Sage via Beau and some other contacts too. Beau I met formally four years ago when we’d both been hunting the same mark. We’d recognized each other from having attended the same school. He was a few years older than me, which often boggled my mind.
The night we ran into each other, years after our families had wronged us, instead of competing or killing each other, we split the money from the job and remained in touch.
Beau’s jaw clenched, his tongue skating over his teeth behind shut lips. After a tense moment, his blue eyes hard on mine, they softened. “Yeah, I get it. Won’t happen again.”
We discussed what time he and Sage would remove the trash from my house, then he left me to my thoughts while I cleaned the floor.
After some time staring at the chair, I swallowed down the residual anger and fear that’d compelled me to end a stranger’s life, and quickly cleaned up in the tiny bathroom.
Towel in hand, and wearing only my suit pants and briefs, I switched off the light and made my way upstairs. I entered the code, then pushed the heavy door open.
Sunlight assaulted my eyes and noticing a speck of blood inside my wrist as I shifted my hand to shield them, I quickly wiped at it with the damp towel as the door shut behind me.
I heard her, felt her, before I allowed my eyes to savor the sight of her in a pair of denim shorts and baby yellow T-shirt with frilled cap sleeves.
The pale hue to my Dove’s skin and the fluttering of her skittish pulse in her neck had me pausing with the towel around my hand.
“Great,” I muttered as she turned and made haste out of the room. “Just as she’s acclimating, I had to go and kill someone.”