My back presses hard against the wall, and I feel sweat trickle between my shoulder blades. It's hot as fuck in here, and my heart is slamming around like a fucking beast inside my chest. This is taking too damn long. I can't believe I let her talk me into this. I don't like that my eyes aren't on her. The handle of the gun slips in my damp palm. Fuck this shit! I push away from the wall, and then, I hear footsteps down the hall, followed by Tor's laugh.
"You're a pretty little thing," the man says, a hint of Italian accent in his tone. "I bet you have a pretty little pussy, don't you?"
I force the growl down my throat, my fingers tightening around the gun. Shadows block the light streaming underneath the door and the lock clicks. I hold my breath as the door slowly pushes open, and stops an inch in front of my face.
"Leave the lights off," Tor coos. Her heels tap over the floor, and she leans against the door as she closes it. Mussa's attention is so focused on her he hasn't even noticed me in the shadows.
The glow from the city outside casts enough light through the window that I can see her as she approaches him, each step deliberate, her hips swaying from side to side. The white summer dress she's wearing is barely covering her fucking ass, leaving her long legs exposed. I can hardly make out her face, but can see a small smile playing over her lips. I know that look. It's one that could bring any man to his fucking knees for her. When she stops in front of him, his eyes drop to her cleavage.
"I can't wait to fuck you, sweetheart."
Heat radiates from me. I'll kill him right now. Fuck. I stop myself. This man is my last link to Joe. I can't fucking kill him yet. My chest is tight as hell, my pulse going ninety to nothing. I won't deny that I'm having a hard time standing here, letting this fucker think he can have her.
Tor bends over and slowly glides her hand along the material of her dress. He groans in approval, and I swallow. She slips her fingers underneath the hem, seductively inching the dress up her thigh. I have to grit my teeth. I'm about three fucking seconds away from losing my shit. If he sees any more of her skin, I'm going to cut his fucking eyes out.
She playfully bites her bottom lip as she trails her fingertips up the inside of her thigh. Mussa's gaze follows her every move. A disgusting moan slips from him the second she lifts the dress enough to reveal the lace top of her garter. I clench my fist, my index finger twitching on the trigger of the gun. I want to shoot him just for looking at her like that, stupid motherfucker. She leans toward him and places her lips too fucking close to his. He's completely fixated on her, basically salivating over her. I can't take much more of this. Tor needs to get on with it before my temper gets the better of me. Her hand skims further up her thigh, and she pulls a small knife from her garter so quickly he never suspects a damn thing. Before he can react, the pointed tip of the blade is pressed to his throat. Fuck, Tor. What the hell are you doing? Mussa's eyes go wide, and a smile slinks onto her lips.
His hand creeps toward the gun tucked in the waist of his jeans, and I step out from the dark corner, aiming the gun as I quickly approach him. "I wouldn't if I were you," I say in a calm, even tone.
Mussa's attention turns toward me, and the knife scratches across his throat. I snatch the gun from his pants, cocking it and aiming both weapons at his face. He raises his hands in front of him and freezes. "There must be some misunderstanding here," he says.
"No, no misunderstanding." I press the gun to his temple. "Where the fuck is Joe?"
He arches a brow, one side of his lips quirking up. "JP?" he laughs. "Well, what a fucking surprise."
"Where is he? Tell me, or I'll kill you."
"Fuck you." He grits his teeth. "And fuck your whore."
I hand one of the guns to Tor, and when I do, the fucking bastard swings at me, but misses. I wrap my arm around his throat. He throws his body weight around in an attempt to loosen my hold as I struggle to drag him to the side of the room. This bastard's fucking massive, and I'm finding it a little harder to subdue him than I'm used to.
"You're gonna fucking tell me where that worthless motherfucker is." My voice strains as I struggle against him. "You will die tonight! Whether I make it quick or drag it the fuck out, well, that's up to you."
I force him down into a chair, and as discussed, Tor grabs the zip ties and rope from the bag set behind the door. The man's big, and I will give it to him, he is fighting hard, but with the amount of rage driving me, fucking King-Kong wouldn't stand a chance against me at this point. I press my thumb into the indention between his collar-bone and he coughs.
"Be still," I grunt as I fight to restrain him.
Tor binds his hands and feet. The entire time Mussa is thrashing around.
"Fucking..." I raise the gun, aiming at his knee cap. A small pop sounds through the silencer when I pull the trigger. "Stop moving," I say.
Tossing his head back, he screams bloody murder.
"Ew, Jude," Tor whines. I glance at her, and there's blood spatter across her chest. The ends of her blonde hair are stained red. "You couldn't have waited until I moved?" she asks.
I'm not sure if I should be worried that she doesn't give two shits that I just shot this guy or not, but it makes me grin a little. "Don't start with me, woman." I wipe the sweat from my brow and glare at her.
She ignores me and picks up a discarded piece of clothing from the floor. She grabs the back of Mussa's head, shoving the material into his mouth to muffle his cries. "Shut. The fuck. Up!" she says, rolling her eyes.
I'm out of breath from struggling against him, my chest heaving rapidly. My eyes rake over his body. This bastard thought he was going to fuck her, and that does not set well with me at all. I slam my fist over his face. It's been so long since I've beat someone, and all the rage I've been harboring toward Joe seeps to the surface. Damn, does it feel fucking good to beat the fuck out of him. I keep punching Mussa until I feel my knuckles split open, and I stop to catch my breath.
I snatch his jaw, jerking his face to mine as I yank the gag from his mouth. "Where the fuck is Joe?"
He laughs, blood bubbling at his lips. "Fuck you." His thick accent makes that comment seem all the more demeaning. I grab his chin, twisting his jaw and shoving the gag back in. I swing my fist back and punch him in the gut. He tries to double over, but the restraints stop him.
"This is going to take all bloody night at this rate," Tor grumbles, sighing impatiently.
I glare at her. "I can go all fucking night." I raise my bloodied fist up and hit him once more, feeling the bones of his cheek crush beneath the force.
"Well, the longer this takes, the more likelihood there is of someone missing him. He doesn't strike me as more than a ten minute kind of guy." She smirks.
"You cannot be serious? Fuck, woman. Just... stay over there, would you?" I point to the corner of the room. I'm about to go back at him, and she starts in again.
"Well, hurry the fuck up with it!"
I stalk over to her, snatching the knife from her hand. "Hurry the fuck up with it then," I mock her under my breath. Shit this woman knows how to grate my damn nerves sometimes.
I drop my hand and turn as I wipe the blood down my shirt. "You want to find Joe, or not? You can't hurry fucking torture." I yank the material out of Mussa's mouth again and grab his chin, pressing the tip of the blade to his throat. I set my eyes on his in a cold stare. "Tell me where he is."
He laughs, his teeth gritted in pain. I shove the old t-shirt back between his lips and throw another three punches at him until his face is a bloody mess.
"He's going to bleed out," Tor says in a bored voice. I glance up, sweat dripping down my temples, and find her sitting on the bed, inspecting her bright red nails.
Groaning, I tilt my head back to look at the ceiling. This fucking woman... "Real helpful there."
"Let me try."
I can't help but laugh in disbelief. "Let you..." I drag my hand down my face and glance back at the guy drifting in and out of consciousness. "Let you try? Jesus Christ, who the hell are you?"
She flips me off before pushing in front of me, standing between me and Mussa.
"You're gonna get blood on you..." I snicker.
She narrows her gaze on me before swinging a leg over his lap and fucking straddling him.
"Since when is a goddamn lap dance torture?" I growl, grabbing her shoulder and trying to pull her away from him.
Her head whips to the side, and she shoots a glare at me daring me to touch her again. "Go brood in the corner or something," she says as she lifts a brow at me. Fuck me is she walking a fine fucking line.
All I can do is stare at her, wondering what in the hell crazy-ass demon possessed her. I'm almost ready to tie her the fuck up so I can get this shit over with, but as sick and twisted as it is, I feel like she needs this. She's just as angry as I am, and she needs to get that out.
"Mussa, you know we don't want to hurt you, right?" she purrs, her voice seductive as she removes his gag. "We just want Joe. Give us Joe and we'll let you go." She leans into him, stroking her fingers over his face, provoking him.
He laughs, pulling against his restraints until he's centimeters from her face. "I know who you fucking are, bitch! I'm almost jealous Joe got to fuck that pussy."
"That's it!" I shout and stomp toward them. I slam my fist against the side of his face. "I'll fucking kill you!" I grab his throat and squeeze as tight as I can manage. Tor places a hand on my arm and shakes her head, signaling for me to move away. I release him, and he gasps for air. I hesitantly walk to the side of the room, fuming over this entire fucking ordeal.
"I tried to be nice to you, I really did," she says. "Remember that."
I cross my arms over my chest and watch as she slides off his lap and squats in front of him. The next thing I know, he's screaming and wailing like he's fucking dying. Tor backs away just enough that I can see the knife, still in her hand, is planted in his crotch. I taste vomit hit the back of my throat, and instinctively cup my balls. When she releases the knife, it stays put.
"Holy fuck, woman! Did you just nail his nuts to the chair?" A large red stain bleeds from the crotch of his jeans and spreads down his thighs. "I may cut fuckers tongues out, but even I have a fucking line..."
She glances over her shoulder at me, and she's fucking smiling! "We need him to talk." She turns back to him. "Now, where is Joe?" she asks in that prissy accent of hers.
"I..." he stammers, his face washing white like he's going to pass out any second.
"Mussa, right now, your testicles are impaled on this knife, and as unpleasant as that is, you do still have them. However, I'm not a patient person. So, if you'd like to keep them..." She grabs his hair, yanking his head back as she inches her face toward his. "I suggest you fucking tell me where he is."
He doesn't say a word. His lips tremble, sweat beads on his forehead.
"Tell. Me," she demands and exerts some pressure on the handle of the knife.
He howls and blows deep breaths from his lips trying to manage the pain. Tor jerks the blade up, then slams it down between his legs again. He lets out a blood curdling scream. Fuck, someone is going to hear this shit.
"Pretty sure you lost one that time," she says, her face completely expressionless. "Tell me, Mussa." She leans forward until her lips are at his ear. "Joe took something from me, and I just want to return the favour..." She yanks the knife out of the chair, her body tensing as she uses most of her weight to free it from the wood. Her gaze is locked on the tattered, bloody material of his jeans. "Have you heard the saying, 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned'?" she whispers as she twists the blood covered blade between her fingers. "I am fucking scorned, Mussa, and I will kill you without a second thought if you stand in my way." She rises, looming over him. "Your choice. I can castrate you before, or after I let Jude have you. Such a crying shame to think you may be buried as the dickless bastard you are."
Holy fucking shit, when did Tor become so fucking violent? The fucked up part is that it's making my damn dick hard.
She paces, her movements agitated like a cat that's about to stop toying with its prey and end it. And I see the exact moment she decides she's done. She takes a step toward him and brings the blade back, ready to strike and slit his throat.
"Tor!" I grab her wrist, and she snaps her head around. The expression on her face is devoid. She's about to kill him, and there's nothing there. On anyone else I wouldn't think twice about it but on her... it's fucking wrong. She's covered in blood, she's angry, she's fucking vicious, and shit, how much harder can my dick get over this? I bite down on my lip.
"Stop." I nod. "You gotta stop, doll."
"Please..." Mussa mumbles. "Please..."
A smile creeps over my mouth, and I squeeze Tor's shoulders. This right here makes me think she may be a bit crazy, but damn, she fucked him up. I step toward Mussa, pointing back at Tor. "I'll let her keep at you unless you tell me where to find Joe."
"He's out of the country," he manages his words through heavy breaths.
"Where?"
"I don't..." he chokes on a painful moan. "I don't know. He doesn't tell me things like that." Mussa’s chin drops to his chest.
I wet my lips with my tongue as lean into him. "Who does he tell then? Who knows everything about Joe?"
He hesitates.
"It can take an awfully long time to be beaten to death if the person dishing out the beating knows what they're doing, Mussa. Don't make this worse on yourself. Die with some fucking dignity. "
"Stan Solomon."
I reach into his coat pocket and take his cell phone. I scroll through his contacts. "Is he in here?"
He nods just as I find his name in the directory. "See, that wasn't so hard now was it?” I say as I place the gun to his temple and pull the trigger.
His body slumps to the side. Blood covers his legs, some of it spilling over the chair onto the carpet. The steady dripping noise and the rush of my own heavy breaths are the only sounds in the room.
I turn to look at Tor and find her sitting on the edge of the bed, wiping the bloodied knife off on the duvet. Her disheveled hair has red patches of blood streaked through it. I grab the bag set behind the door and unzip it. Pulling a hacksaw out, I glance over my shoulder at her. "You're probably not gonna want to watch this."
Her gaze drifts down to the saw and disgust crawls over her face. "Do I want to know what you are going to do with that?"
I stand, shrugging as I walk toward Mussa's lifeless body. "Start a fucking war."
Tor slowly steps toward the window, opening it to climb out.
"Just sit on the window sill. Don't go all the way out."
She nods, swings her legs over the ledge, and sits with her back to me.
I grab Mussa's thick hair and yank his head up as I place the blade to his throat, dragging it back and forth. There's little resistance as the serrated edge slices through his flesh, only requiring a bit more force when it reaches his windpipe, but when I hit his spine, the saw catches. Sweat drips down the ridge of my nose as I cut away, and I have to place my foot on his thigh to get the leverage I need in order to snap through the bone and cartilage. I hold the decapitated head up, blood dripping from the mangled flesh. Even for me, this is a little disgusting, but I will be fucking damned if Joe Campbell will ever think he can break me. I can't help but smile as I imagine the expression on his face when he hears that his right hand man's head has been delivered to one of his businesses. I toss the saw down, cram the head inside the bag, and zip it up. I use the sheets to wipe the blood from my hands before I pull my phone out to call Marney.
It barely rings. "Yep?"
"Get those fucking cleaners in here to get rid of this shit."
"They're on their way. Leave the window open so they can get in?"
I end the call, strap the bag over my chest and stand behind the window "Come on, doll," I say touching my hand to her shoulder.
She rises from the window ledge, smoothing out her white, blood stained dress. The two of us climb down the metal fire escape and quickly make our way through the alley. The black sedan is parked just down from the hotel, and we hurry through the dark before anyone catches sight of us. I open the door and usher her in before I set the bag in the trunk. I've barely shut the door when I crank the engine.
The dim yellow haze from the streetlights flickers through the windshield as I drive off. When I stop at a red light, I glance over at her. She reaches over and turns the radio up, staring out the window as she hums along with the tune. There's blood on her cheek. I can't help but replay the feral look that overcame her when she had Mussa bleeding and helpless beneath her. It shouldn't, but just thinking about how she fucked him up has my cock hard as all hell. I drive until we're at a safe distance before I pull into an empty parking lot and shut off the engine.
She glances at me, her eyebrows pinching together in confusion. I unzip my pants and shove them down before I grab her and drag her across the center console, trapping her between my body and the steering wheel.
"You make me so fucking hard," I growl against her lips, skimming my fingers over the back of her neck and fisting her hair. I yank her head back, and she gasps. I trail my lips over her throat, inhaling her scent which is now tainted with the metallic smell of blood. It's fucked up that it turns me on, but goddamn, my dick's never been this fucking hard in my life.
"You were gonna slit his fucking throat," I breathe against her skin, yanking the straps of her dress down, exposing her breasts.
"Hmm," she hums, her breath hitching as my teeth skim her nipple.
"Weren't you? Fucking say it. You were gonna slit his fucking throat." I grip her jaw, pulling her face to mine. She cocks a brow, her sex filled gaze locking with mine.
"I would have slit his throat with a smile on my face," she whispers, rolling her hips against me.
I growl and wrap my fingers around her throat as I slam my lips down over hers. I'm not careful with her because the woman who just fucked up Mussa is not the broken woman of a few weeks ago. Tor may be broken, but she's evolved, she's dark and deadly, and sexy as fuck.
"I'm going to fuck you so damn hard," I say through gritted teeth, barely able to breathe as I grind my dick against her.
"Well hurry up with it then," she smiles like the fucking devil.
I shove her dress up, grab the sides of her underwear, and rip them off of her. I grip her hips with both hands and slam my cock into her.
"Fuck, Tor," I groan, as she clenches around me. A breathy moan slips from her lips and her nails rake across my shoulders.
I don't give her a chance to adjust. I hold her hips, grinding her against me. "Fuck me. I want you to fuck me," I growl as I force her up and down on me.
A small smile pulls at her lips as her chest rises unevenly. She teasingly rolls her hips against me, and I wrap my hand around the side of her neck, cupping her cheek with my palm. I brush her bottom lip with my thumb, and her eyes focus on mine as she grazes it with her teeth, daring me. I adjust my hold, gripping her jaw and bringing her face to mine. I kiss her, then bite her bottom lip.
"I said," I move my hands down to her hips and squeeze, "fuck me!" I force her to move, meeting every fucking thrust with my own, each harder than the last.
She throws her head back and moans my name. I lean forward, pinching her nipple as I bite down on her throat. Her hands fly to the back of my neck, her nails digging into my skin. She screams as she rides me harder, her pussy rhythmically gripping me like a fucking vice, her fingernails scratching over my shoulders.
I dig my fingers into her ass and squeeze as I force myself inside her as deep as possible, fucking her hard from underneath. My muscles tense, my teeth clenching as I come inside her tight body. I throw my head back against the seat, my chest heaving as I try and catch my breath. "Goddamn, I love your pussy," I breathe.
A smile flickers on her lips as she sits up and brushes her tangled hair from her face. She scoots over into the passenger seat, pushing her dress back down. "Good."
I never have in my life met a woman quite like this one. And I fucking love it.