Chapter
24

Two Weeks Later

I fucking hated the sun because that bastard always wanted to fuck up a perfectly good dream and shit. I blinked and covered my eyes with my hand before I looked over at the clock. It was only seven. Seven in the fucking morning and I was up. Way too early to do anything but sink my hard cock into Ash’s warm pussy. I smiled. Yeah, that sounded like a great idea. I rolled over, seeking her warmth, and groaned as my muscles protested. I blinked again. Why the fuck did I hurt so bad? Like I hadn’t moved in forever. I shifted again, forced my arms to stretch, and felt the satisfying pops down my joints. It didn’t hurt as bad that time, but the opposite side of the bed was cold. I narrowed my gaze.

I’d told her ass to get in bed with me, and she didn’t.

I sat up ready to blow a fucking gasket, but two things stopped me cold.

Number one: her medication was absent, as well as her little trinkets on my dresser.

Number two: the closet was wide open, and none of her shit was in there.

“Sean!”

I roared his name as I leapt out of bed. A wave of dizziness put me back on my ass, my very naked, hard-cocked ass. I heard Sean pounding up the stairs as I grabbed my phone out of the lockbox I kept it in when I went to bed on meds. Sean might be my right hand, but my business wasn’t his.

A message from some unknown number.

Day 14. You don’t really want your bitch back. do you?

What the fuck?

And there was a video attachment. And thirteen other new messages.

“Caesar, you’re up,” Sean said, distracting me from clicking on my messages. He closed the door behind him and ran his fingers through his hair.

“No shit, Sherlock. Where is Ash?” I wasn’t in the mood for this. This Gleeson shit was going to hit the fan sooner than later, and I’d been asleep. What the fuck was Sean doing? He never should have let me be out that long. I looked down at my shoulder and my jaw dropped. I didn’t have a dressing anymore, and bright-pink flesh surrounded the scab over the wound.

“How long have I been out?”

“Two weeks,” Sean answered. But I didn’t like the way he looked down at my phone.

I screwed up my face and laughed. “You off your shit? I took one in the shoulder, not my fucking stomach. What do you mean two weeks?”

Two. Weeks. Fourteen Days.

I peered hard at him. “Where. Is. Ash?”

He swallowed. “She tried to run again, Caesar, while you were out. I was caring for you and she slipped past me and hit the stairs. But she must have been more shook up than I thought she’d been. When I reached for her, she jumped, but …” His voice trailed off and he exhaled hard.

“But?”

“She fell, Caesar. And when she hit the bottom, she broke her neck. I got things cleaned up for you, but she’s gone. I had to medicate you because you kept flipping out and going into a feverish state.”

Gone. A bomb detonated in my fucking skull. Gone. She tried to escape again and broke her neck. Gone. Ash was gone. I stared at Sean, not understanding what the fuck came out of his mouth. And I had to be medicated? Me? He looked back at my fucking phone.

“You need to make a call or something?” I grated out.

He shook his head and shrugged. “Nah. Just been out of the loop a bit. Things have quieted down. I contacted Lorcan about Gleeson and he’s clear. Blamed it on Ash and sent him pictures of her dead body. Took Dahlia out, and he accepted it as payment. We won’t have any more shit out of him,” he explained.

“That’s what you did, huh?”

I forced myself to stand and carried my phone to the dresser. Slowly, I pulled out a pair of boxers and put them on. Then I picked my phone back up and headed to my closet to see what I’d have to fuck up in about two minutes after I put clothes on. Something didn’t smell right, and I didn’t like it. In the closet, anger pulsed through my veins. Fucking empty. Without all her pretty shit stuffing up the space, my closet didn’t feel right. I grabbed a quick outfit to put on—black jeans and a red graphic t-shirt—and dressed in silence.

“I didn’t think you’d want to keep seeing her stuff,” Sean said. He’d moved further into the room and stood at my closet door.

“Leave,” I told him.

“Ca—”

“Leave!”

My yell echoed in the silence as he skirted out of my room. I picked up my phone and dialed.

“Yo,” Franco answered, but I cut him off.

“Where are you?”

“On the ground floor. Sean had everyone clear out when he heard you call.”

“I need you to answer one question for me, and don’t lie. I swear to God, I’ll kill you, your bitch, your mother, and every living relative in your bloodline if you do. You understand me?”

“Yeah, C. I never lie to you.”

He was right. I never thought Sean would lie to me, either, but he had. I switched to my Bluetooth headset and opened the thirteen other messages but didn’t access the videos.

Day 13. She’s fecked ten of my men now.

Day 12. Do you know how many stiches it takes to fix a smiley?

Day 11. She doesn’t like knives.

Day 10. Jaysus, this isn’t even fun anymore, Caesar.

Day 9. Ye kill me Da, but aren’t man enough to see me?

Day 8. Since you don’t care that’s she’s broken, I’ll just feck her to death. Well, me and my crew.

Day 7. One week down. Where are ye motherfucker?

Day 6. Ye ever fuck a bitch who can’t move, even when she isn’t tied down?

Day 5. I twisted her fingers back. Enjoy.

Day 4. This little piggy is broken. This little piggy is, too.

Day 3. The only thing she can eat is me cum.

Day 2. She doesn’t have her teeth now.

Day 1. I have her in me factory, and I’m going to play until ye find her. Lorcan.

“Where is Ashlyn?” I asked him. I could barely choke out the words. Each text came with a video. I knew what they’d be. I knew it.

“You told Sean to give her to Lorcan to make up for killing his father,” he said. I could hear the confusion in his voice. The fucking worry. He went silent, and then he cursed. “You didn’t give that order, did you?”

The thing about being a fucking monster was you surrounded yourself with monsters. Sean had the smarts, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be replaced. That I didn’t keep men close who could step up when the time came. The third in command was there because he wasn’t second … yet.

“Come back upstairs, but you won’t tell Sean anything. Make sure you have all the other floors locked down before you make it to mine. Have men posted at every exit fucking possible, and have Kim block Sean’s access to my door with code 110609. You got it?”

“Will do. I’ll take my time getting up there, but I’ll get the place secured first,” Franco answered.

“And your wife, she’s a lawyer, yeah?”

He was silent. I wondered if he realized just why he’d been made third in command in the first place. “I’ll bring her in,” he finally answered.

“And you’ll be rewarded. We are going hunting, my man.”

“Starting with home,” he agreed.

“I’ll take care of that all on my own.”

I hung up and sat on my bed. I was going to watch every fucking video. Memorize everything they did. Bad fucking Santa was going to pay all the naughty children a visit, and they were going to enjoy the exact treatment my Ash had endured.

You’re strong, Ash. A fucking boss bitch who took me on. I’m coming.

The first video set my blood boiling. She looked beautiful and terrified as they dragged her out of a car and into a metal building not too unlike my warehouse. I knew what they intended for her then. A game of who would give in first. I watched as they strung her up and cut away her clothing. A dress I’d never seen on her before.

Dahlia.

“Say hello to the camera,” Lorcan told Ash.

She lifted her head and stared into the screen. “Caesar.”

A single word, a prayer, a plea. I heard it, but those fuckers didn’t. I wanted to throw my phone, to destroy the world, but first I needed to know how they destroyed her. The video ended and I pressed the next one. I watched Lorcan, the beefy jerk-off, punch, and punch, and punch, until Ash spat blood and teeth on the floor.

In the next video, I fucking wanted to puke. My Ashy Lashy was on her knees, her arms pinned above her as Lorcan fucked her mouth. Blood seeped around his cock as he worked. The fucking pencil dick fucked my mouth. Made my shit bleed. I hurried to the next one. This time, white cum dripped from Ash’s mouth as she stared blankly into her lap. They’d tied her to a chair, and Lorcan knelt at her feet with pliers around her little toe. I heard the crunch, my stomach rolling as she screamed. Screamed my fucking name. My hands shook as I pushed to the next video.

The bastard broke her fucking fingers. Every. Single. One. He twisted them back at odd angles until they snapped and fanned out over her palm like a glove she hadn’t pulled on all the way. And still she screamed for me. She didn’t tell him to stop. She didn’t beg to be let go. Not my Ash. No. She cried for me.

“Caesar! Please. Save me.”

But I didn’t come. Not on that day. No. Not even on the next day when he fucked her broken body. When he came all over her stomach and then flipped her over to start again. I saw Ash and Yolanda, back and forth. Back and fucking forth. Broken. Used. Twisted. Fuck me. I’d done that to her, too. When she’d been unconscious and gone, I’d fucked her, marked her, and didn’t give a shit about the pain. I didn’t care. Fuck, even now my dick got hard at the thought of it. But all I had to do was look at the screen again to lose my shit. He never should have touched her. My phone pinged, and Franco’s name appeared on my screen.

Franco: Kim has made the change. He won’t be able to get out or in. He’s trapped.

Me: Good man. Secure the floors.

Franco: Yes, sir.

I opened the next video. This time, Lorcan hovered in the screen.

“You are a fecking pussy. That, or Dahlia is a lying bitch, and I’m happy she’s gone. I’m going to fuck this pussy I’ve got until she’s dead. I’m going to break every bone in her body.”

The video faded into the next one. There were four other men with him. They played with her, flipped her, and passed her around. I watched every fucking minute of it and memorized their faces. I was going to kill them all. Fucking rip them apart and dance on their insides. The next three videos were more of the same, taunting me to come get her. To save her.

And she didn’t cry for me anymore.

She was silent and lost. Her face slack, pale, and without any emotion. She let them fuck her, break her, beat her, and she never made a single sound. Nothing. That was worst of all. By the time I got to video twelve, my heart stuttered and I couldn’t catch my breath. They’d sliced her face. He hadn’t given her a smiley, but he’d cut up her cheeks and across her forehead. Her beautiful skin was covered in thin, bloody marks that would scar.

There was no way to reply, so I didn’t. I’d come for Ashlyn, no matter fucking what. I stood up and removed the Bluetooth earpiece before I pocketed my phone and cracked my neck.

First, I needed to start with my own home.

Franco: I’m outside.

Me: Perfect. How many do you have with you?

Franco: Five men. I know how Sean likes to tango.

Me: Just get him tied up. I can handle the rest.

Franco: Coming in.

The door opened, and I heard Sean curse. “Franco?”

“Time to face the reaper, bitch,” Franco responded.

Fuck yeah. I liked my new number two already.