Dom
I couldn’t believe I had let Sienna talk me into this shit. Watching Sienna work at the club was bad enough, but watching Sienna work a private party with powerhouse, rich, entitled tuxes and wearing basically nothing was torture. I wanted to wrap her up in my jacket and my arms and bodily carry the woman out of there and away from those fuckwad dickheads as if the house was burning down. Fuck. I wanted to burn the house down.
I was losing my rationality.
When I had arrived with Joey Ronn and one of my Storm brothers, Ship, Sienna was already there, dressed in a tiny little bedroom piece that didn’t cover her ass. Oh, and the hands of that sick bastard Fielding. He was all over her. He was touching my woman. I wanted to pound him down for that so badly that my hands actually twitched.
But I controlled it. Barely. With that for my entrance, this whole night was lining up to be a long stretch of purgatory.
To keep my mind engaged with something other than my hardwired need to break Sienna away from this whole scene, I tried to focus on the plan that we had agreed on, to try to find some evidence tying Fielding to Ronn’s darkest porno productions.
I hadn’t been completely upfront with Sienna about Fielding and Ronn and everything that had led up to her sister’s death. Who needed to hear that shit about the torture of the last hours of her life? I really didn’t want to put her into a tailspin of pain and regret for Tania. If need be, I’d tell her about it later, when she could take the time and space to properly grieve and get through all the emo that would no doubt come up.
Here’s how I figured it: as long as Sienna was under my watch, I could keep any of that shit from going down.
At least I had scored on one point with her. I had drilled it into her that under no condition was she to agree to do a porno for those fuckers. She was my woman, and no way in hell was I okay with her even nominally considering taping one of those things, no matter what they offered her. She got it. I was pretty sure she got it.
My fucking luck that I picked the one woman who continually resisted my best efforts to teach her proper respect for my authority, right? But damn, she did it for me. The more time I spent with her, and the more time went on, I was starting to get that I really liked her. A lot. More than just her hot bod and the phenomenal sex.
But tonight was not the time to be thinking about any of that serious shit. Point was, I needed to stick to the plan. We figured Sienna would have had a better shot of going through the upstairs rooms of the house, and I’d have a better shot at the first floor. We’d raise fewer eyebrows that way.
Not that I liked that she’d have to be out from my watch in order to accomplish that portion of the evening’s festivities, but it did seem like the best, most logical approach. I was trusting her to handle herself wisely. Seeing as how she was smart and quick and didn’t take any shit, not even from me, I was hoping that we’d be able to get in and out within a few hours, maybe even having scored some evidence, and no worse for the wear.
That was a fucking big leap of faith, but I took it for her.
After the first hour or so of rich assholes schmoozing with each other, eying my woman and the other girls present like they were medallions of filet mignon, and snorting up some heavy lines of coke, the floor show started. I had to watch Sienna strip down to nothing but those fucking shoes that made her legs look like they towered to the moon. And then I took note that she never managed to find that damn little piece of gauze that had not really covered her before—my woman was forced to walk around that damn living room fucking naked. I had to take that shit and just watch it. I thought for sure I’d be bursting a blood vessel or 5,000 sometime tonight. This shit was so fucking wrong, I was starting to see red. I maybe was breathing a little tight.
Joey fucking Ronn noticed. And the fucker pulled me away from the scene, about fifteen minutes after Sienna’s dance had ended, telling me he needed to speak with me alone in the library. I did not want to go. I needed to stay and watch over my woman. This shit was so not right. But then I felt Ship’s hand on my shoulder blade, and he grumbled, “I’ll watch her, Dom.” I looked at him darkly, he gave me a chin up for trust, and I followed the smirking Ronn to the fucking library.
“I see you got a problem tonight.” He poured a drink. I had thought it might have been for me—it was obvious as fuck that I could use it—but no. I was, after all, on duty, guarding his pathetic excuse for a self.
“No problem,” I ground out.
“There had better be no problem. That bitch is out there doing her job. And the night is still young. You gotta learn to tack it down, boy-o. She’s just a fucking whore, anyway. Don’t let yourself get so strung-up. It’s pathetic to watch. I thought the Storm MC were all men. Don’t make me wonder about that.”
I could feel my eyes narrow and my jaw tighten, and I was pulling my breaths deeply. I wanted nothing more than to beat this little POS’s face into pulp. But that would seriously interfere with the plan and probably stir up a whole bunch of shit that I really didn’t need flying.
When I failed to rise to his bait, giving him nothing more than a sharp stare as I towered over him, the little prick grew uneasy. “Yes. Well. Okay. Just so long as we are clear here.”
He cleared his throat and swallowed nervously under my steady glare. I was not letting up. The man had insulted my woman and insulted me personally. That shit did not stand in my world. Tonight may not have been the night for me to make that clear to him, but he would at least understand that I was in no way, shape, or form intimidated or cowed by his attempt at power talk.
One thing I could say for the guy, though, was that his instinct to stay alive was working appropriately. He saw the threat that I posed and perhaps realized he may have pushed me too far. “Okay, Mr.… Dom, right?”
“That’s Mr. Parker, to you.” I’d take nothing less than full-on formal respect from this douchebag from now on.
“Uh-huh. Mr. Parker.” He eyed me warily. “Maybe you need a minute or two to… take a breather. Take your time.” And he scurried out of the office like the hounds of hell were at his heels.
I was still too pissed off to laugh. But I knew that I’d be laughing at that image later. What a fucking useless prick Joey Ronn was turning out to be. He was no more than a sick yes-man to Fielding, and a sleazy pimp to his dancers. And a fucking blackmailing slimebucket to Clav. Damn, I needed to find something that could be used as evidence against this worthless POS.
I looked around me for a moment and realized my extreme good fortune. Ronn had chosen to use Fielding’s library-study for our little tête-à-tête. Effectively, it appeared that I had found myself in his home office. With his computer. And a desk with several drawers. And an external hard drive just sitting out, attached to the laptop that was lying on top of the desk. The arrogant twat had just left his shit out in the open. Un-fucking-believable.
Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I palmed the hard drive and pocketed it to look into on my own time once I got out of this shithole. I then further searched every drawer of the desk, finding nothing of note there. Remembering myself, I followed the general practices of all wise heisters and I used the bottom of my shirt to wipe down the desk and computer area to rub out any prints.
I turned to the rest of the room, which was lined with built-in bookcases. The lower shelves mostly featured large leather-backed series, while the middle and upper shelves had more seeming variety. There were gaps here and there, where framed old-style maps and porcelain figurines posed.
On the surface, there was nothing sticking out as obvious or odd or notable; there was no clear place to start. I randomly pulled out a few books here and there, and they were just books, filled with paper pages; most appeared unread. I picked up a couple of figurines, and they weighed about what you’d expect. No tripped wires or hidden anything, as far as I could tell.
I decided the rest of this room was a dud and that I’d already hit “pay dirt,” as Sienna would say, with the hard drive. I also figured I’d been in there long enough and it was time to go back out and check on my woman. I knew Ship had had his eyes open, watching out that nothing might happen to her. But she was my woman to protect, not his, and I needed to be sure of her safety in this viper’s nest.
When I reached the living room again, where most of the tuxes and naked female bodies were gathered in their assorted states of high and loaded, I failed to see Sienna. Ronn was there, and Ship was standing by a wall near him, looking over the room. I caught his eye and raised a brow, asking from afar where my woman had gone. His eyes flashed upward with a head tilt in the same direction, so I understood that my girl was following our plan as well, investigating the rooms upstairs. I sent Ship another query by face, asking if she was okay, and he nodded briefly. I chin-lifted a thanks and scanned the room again, looking to pinpoint Fielding and Ronn, the two scumbags I was most concerned with.
I didn’t see Fielding. This was not great. But I had to trust Sienna; I had promised her I would, and it hadn’t been that long since I’d left the room, maybe only fifteen or twenty minutes. I’d give her a little more time before freaking out.
I decided it was as good a time as any to get Ronn alone again to get more info. I had been too angry before, when we had been in the library, to think of what needed saying and doing with the little ass, so a second go at him was due.
I made my way through bodies vertical and horizontal and everything in between until I was standing at Joey Ronn’s back. I tapped him heavily on the shoulder. When he looked back, then up at me, he scowled.
“Do you need something?” He attempted a contemptuous tone with his high nasal.
“It’s more a matter of what you need,” I replied, not hiding my ire as I eyed his nose and his throat. Damn, but I wanted to do some damage to this motherfucker’s face. I was pretty sure he got the point.
“Are… are you actually threatening me?” Ah! He was catching on.
“Yeah, I’m threatenin’ you. I need some answers, and you are gonna give ’em to me, or I will gladly start my joyful work of rearrangin’ your face until you do.”
His eyes popped wide, and he squeaked out, “Here? Now? What the fuck is this, you fu—”
“Ah ah ah, it’s Mr. Parker to you. Now do you want to do this here, or would you prefer a more private location?”
His eyes darted over to Ship, but my man’s face gave nothing away and he shrugged. And Joey realized he was on his own.
“Your Pres is gonna pay for this. You both want that? I don’t know what your issue is, Mr. Parker, but you’d better take it down a notch. You’re out of your league. Don’t overstep. Now, get out of my way.”
I took him by the bicep—jeez, I could almost wrap my hand around his entire arm—and pulled him slightly in front of me, guiding him back into the gigantic foyer of the McMansion, saying, “Shut it, Ronn. Your options for the night are limited. If you’re a good boy, you’ll tell me what I need to know and you might get out in one piece. Maybe.”
I wasn’t too sure of my ability to hold myself back. This piece of shit deserved a roughing up so badly, and I was still itching to give it to him.
He showed wisdom and kept his mouth shut until we got back to the library and shut the door.
When I released his arm, he turned to me, seething and demanding, “Just who the fuck do you think you are?”
“I know who I am, and I know who you are, too. You have a big problem, and it’s time we address it. It’s about a little snuff film, and knives, and a dead girl, and a dead brother of mine. Does that jog your memory?”
His eyes narrowed to slits, and he smirked. “Ah, it just might. So you want—what? What exactly do you think I can provide you with?”
I wanted a lot of things. I wanted this motherfucker to pay for Manny. I wanted Fielding to pay for Tania. I wanted evidence to incriminate both of them, evidence that could go to the cops and put these two away forever. I wanted to get out of Hardcore for good. I wanted our MC back. I wanted to find Pres’s daughter, Zoe, in one piece and alive. I wanted this whole fucking nightmare to be over.
But I had to start small here. “I want to take Fielding down. What’s his hold over you? Or are those types of pornos your sick preference, too?”
Understanding and superior knowledge lit his eyes. “Ah. No. His tastes… shall we say, he represents a distinctive niche of the market, one that is… ah, so specialized that men such as he are willing to pay top dollar for. Supply and demand, you know. It’s the way the world works.”
He looked proud of himself, like he hadn’t just made the most sick and abhorrent and criminal predilection sound merely offbeat and unique for the wealthy and discerning connoisseur, and he smirked again. I just about growled. There was nothing right about these people. They should have been wiped off the face of the planet long ago.
“So it’s all about making money for you, then? Anything for a buck?”
“Ah, well…” he drawled. “Perhaps there’s a little more. He’s invested rather heavily in my industries. He’s the silent controlling partner behind Hardcore, and one might consider him as silent executive producer, if you will, for the cinematic ventures. On occasion, he opts to have a more, shall we say, personal involvement in the—ahem—artistic offerings. My tastes run a bit more mainstream, but I know enough not to judge him. You might be wise to take that lesson, and just keep your fucking nose out of business where you don’t belong.”
“I see.” But I got him here. “So you just provide the… actors for his ‘special productions,’ then? Did you choose Tania, or did he?”
“Tania. No, Tania was right up his alley. The perfect girl. Money hungry, willing to do anything for it, sign her life away—figuratively speaking, of course. She also was fairly deeply in debt. I was helping her out, giving her another way to make some significant extra money on the side. I merely provided an introduction, and they took it from there.”
“You both are sick individuals, you know that, right? You lead a girl to her death, and you kill Manny for—”
His face shut down, and his voice went cold. “I don’t know what or whom you are talking about, Mr. Parker. But I do think you are way out of line. Best to forget any unpleasantries that occupy your limited mental space and move along, young Parker. It is always the healthiest option.”
“Just so you see how I got this straight, Joey.” Oh, he didn’t like my use of the familiar. I thought I might keep using it. “You put Tania with Fielding to do the movie. Fielding calls the shots. Tania just happens to die, through… unplanned loss of blood. Fielding exits the scene; you call Manny in for cleanup. Yeah, I know all about that. Only, Manny sees what went down and freaks out—which, I want to point out here, is a normal reaction to seein’ somethin’ like that. You shoot him in the head so he won’t cause a problem, and make Clav do cleanup on both of ’em, which implicates him. So then you hold the whole matter over Clav’s head as blackmail, and my whole MC is payin’ the price now. Do I got it right?”
“When you put it that way, yeah, you do, Dom. I’m a fucking genius!” And he had himself a good deep belly chuckle. He bought his own shit. What a fuckwad.
I decided to throw out a tangent ball while he was in this open, self-congratulatory mood. “What ever happened to Zoe? To Clav’s daughter? ’Cause I know you got that hold, too. Where is she? What did Fielding do with her?”
And here little Joey lost his humor. “I keep my nose out of that shit. That’s not my business; that’s all Fielding. When we have a problem with a girl getting herself a little too deep with the drugs, or when Fielding takes a special interest in one of the girls, it’s best to let him handle it his way. I don’t ask ’cause I’m smart; I don’t want to know. You won’t find answers, anyway. He’s got a labyrinth of ventures in this house of mirrors. You would do best to take my advice and…” He broke out into another crazy nasal chuckle. “Make like that James Bond movie. Live and let die.”
“So she’s dead, then? You tellin’ me Zoe’s dead?”
“I did not say that. You gotta listen, dude. I don’t ask. I don’t know where she is. I don’t know where he takes them. I only know…” His gaze drifted away, and then he shook his head.
“What? Spit it the fuck out! What do you know?”
“Listen, all’s I know is that he likes to fantasize about having a sex slave. He talks about it all the time. Sometimes it sounds like he actually has one; sometimes it’s more like he’s talking hypothetical-like. So there’s that.
“But then, also—and again, I want to stress here that I don’t know—he talks about selling. Selling girls. But it all is like, hypothetical, right? I don’t know anything. And I am smart enough not to want to know. I keep my nose out of that shit. I run Hardcore, I make the movies, and I sell them. I don’t deal with any of that other stuff, and I don’t know anything about it.”
Shit. Well, at least Ronn admitted so much that he completely backed up Pres’s story and situation. Hell, I realized there had been a part of me that hadn’t wanted to believe Pres’s story. It was just too outlandish, too over-the-top. But there was no doubt any longer.
“What do you know, you little shit? You know something. You know he took Zoe. Tell me about that.”
“Look, man. Zoe was trouble. She had some issues. She was fucked-up and she, too, got herself into a situation of debt. It happens. So Zoe, well, Fielding—he liked the look of her, ya know what I mean? Like, he likes the look of your girl, too, that Sienna bitch. She’s got too much attitude, but she’s got a look that sells. Man to man, Parker, I’d be careful in the house of mirrors with that one.” We looked hard at each other for just a split second before he broke the contact and raised his brows in a momentary quirk, as though he had surprised even himself at his candor.
So I knew little Joey was being straight with me on this point. I couldn’t be sure why, but he was flat-out warning me that Fielding had some depraved thoughts about my woman. I needed to get back out there and find her and get her the fuck out of here, stat.
“I think our little talk is about over now, isn’t it? I’ll see you around, man. And, remember who gave you the heads-up. You owe me now—again.” Aha, and his altruism found its limit. It figured that he’d find some way to turn his momentary humanitarianism for profit.
But I let him go, so I could go, too.
We both headed back to the party, which was all kinds of orgy-fest at this point and nothing more. I looked and didn’t see Sienna—not that I’d expect to. I knew she wouldn’t be participating in that shit. Last I knew, she had gone upstairs, right? So I started to head up there, too.
About halfway up, I saw Sienna in nothing but a towel, and a naked woman, both careening to the top of the stairs, both red-faced and pulling breath hard. I stopped climbing and watched as the two of them flew down, while Sienna yelled, “Dom, get me the fuck out of this house, now!”
I didn’t argue. I turned, following them down at nearly the same speed, pulling my suit jacket off to hand to the other woman. I grabbed hold of Sienna’s waist and sped the three of us out the door and into the night.
I don’t think I’d ever been so happy to leave a party in my life.