I don’t feel it anymore.
Guilt. Pain. Hesitance. I don’t tend to get sent in for the questioning jobs. Just the torture. An infliction of my treatment is usually enough to have even the strongest of people spilling their secrets.
But since everyone is under the impression that I’ve already dealt with the caged woman, they aren’t in a hurry for answers. I, on the other hand, had heard enough from this one.
I blink open my eyes, feeling my brother approach. Not fully behind me, just slightly off to the side, enough for him to be in my peripheral vision. I don’t react well to being snuck up on.
Eli doesn’t speak, but I hear his silent question regardless.
“I’ll deal with it,” my throat scratches with the words, like claws slicing deeper into my damaged vocal cords. “I want to.”
Eli shifts, the soles of his boots scuffing the concrete floor, “Charl-”
I cut him off, “She doesn’t need the stress.”
“Ky will want to know, bro,” he tries again, still keeping a small distance from me. “She won’t want you to deal with…this, not by yourself.”
“I’ll tell her, not you.”
He blows out a breath, it reminds me of our eldest brother, the one I put a bullet in, dragged out to a shitty shallow grave. Unmarked. Tossed him in. Covered him with barely enough earth to bury an earthworm and then just… walked away.
“Okay,” he sighs, air blowing out of his nostrils as he lifts an arm, his fingers squeezing his nape, hand curling around the back of his neck. “You’ll take someone with you?”
I nod, already knowing I won’t be doing that.
Not there.
To seehim.
“Charl,” he tries again, his feet shifting once more, and then, “Okay.” He swallows. “Okay.”
“Call the Blackwells,” I tell him, my voice cracking on my last word.
The Blackwells are The Firm’s clean-up crew. They’ve never been caught disposing of bodies, gore, parts. Generations of them have worked with our family. They’re probably the nearest thing I have to trust in anyone.
“I’ll tell Thorne we want one of his boys on this,” Eli says, my booted feet already taking me towards the door. “Be careful.”
I almost stop in my tracks, my body tilting forward with the sudden stop-start motion of my feet. But I regain my composure quickly, nod my head without looking back, push through the door and disappear in the dark.
Chapter6
Kazimir
Blunt teeth scrape the underside of my cock. Nails dig into my solid thighs, and with my head dropped back, my eyes squeezed shut, I try to think of any-fuckin-thing other than what is actually happening.
One hand fisted in auburn hair, I tighten my fingers, thick strands snapping around my cracking knuckles as I shove the woman on her knees further down on my rapidly softening cock. Other hand secured over top of a half-filled crystal cut tumbler resting on the arm of my leather chair. I lift it up, knock the contents back, revel in the quick burn of vodka as it singes my throat, spreading heat through my chest.
Slurping sounds finally penetrate my ears, above the low drumming buzz from the heavy pounding music floors below. Eyes popping open, I stare up into the darkness of the high vaulted ceiling, ignoring the bright city skyline of Southbrook just beyond the glass wall opposite me. I flex my fingers, force a quick breath through my nostrils. Try to forget about the shitty week I’ve already had. Not forgetting to add terrible fucking blow job to the very top of the list, just to really top it off.
It’s only fucking Tuesday.
Teeth catch my crown, a canine snagging the tip of my dick and it takes everything in me not to throw her off. I deserve this. I deserve to come. I command an army of Russian brutes. The least I should be able to do is shoot my fucking load into the back of someone’s throat.
The more I think about coming, the further away my release gets. My pulse pounds in my temples, a vein thrumming in the side of my neck. My shoulders tense, my balls ache, and fuck me, for all that is unholy, please, let me come.
I try to think about something else. Someone else. The tight cunt I fucked last week. Short brown hair, big blue eyes, the most sinful fucking thighs I’ve ever seen, and my dick goes half-mast.
Fucking Christ.