Page 42 of Our Little Dove

He chuckles, oblivious to the trap that’s been set for him, before knocking back the tainted shot with a careless grin.

I wait with bated breath as the drug takes effect, watching Kieran’s movements slow. With a triumphant smirk, I switch off the camera feed, knowing that my plan is in motion and there’s no turning back now.

Just as I’m about to shut the laptop, my phone buzzes with an incoming call from an unknown number. I hesitate for a moment, my heart pounding in my chest as I answer.

“Hello?” I say, my voice is steady despite the tumultuous storm raging within me.

“Hey, little Dove.” The voice on the other end is familiar, tinged with an Irish accent that sends shivers down my spine. It’s Kieran, his words slurred with intoxication. “I miss you, Dove. Have you missed your masters?”

A bitter laugh escapes my lips as I hold the phone against my chest, so he doesn’t hear.

Kieran may miss me now, but soon he’ll be begging for mercy as I unleash the full force of my vengeance upon him.

“Yes,” I say, trying not to choke on the word. “Why don’t you get some fresh air,master?”

With a sense of purpose coursing through my veins, I slip out into the night, my footsteps echoing against the pavement as I make my way to the dark alley next to the club.

I keep him on the line until I am hunched and leaning against the wall behind the large dumpster. Before long, I spot him stumbling out into the alley, leaning his back against the rough brick.

He fumbles with his lighter as he tries to light his cigarette. He doesn’t have a lot of time. He should collapse any minute now.

I see the flame light up his handsome features and curse myself for finding him so irresistible. The end of his cigarette finally lights up and while he takes his first drag, he starts to slump against the wall.

“Miss me,master?” I chime in a mocking tone as I step out of the darkness. He barely registers. His eyes are glazed as he looks up at me, his ass hitting the pavement and he falls to his side, the cigarette still between his lips.

Grabbing him by the wrists, I struggle but manage to pull his dead weight behind the dumpster and out of sight. I feel around for his phone and take it just in case. It shouldn’t be long before Fintan comes looking for his dark-haired counterpart.

I sprint back to the car and grab everything I need from the trunk before heading back to the alley.

And I wait.

I knock back another shot of whiskey, but my mind is elsewhere. I stare at the bottom of the empty glass, the amber liquid barely gone and against my better judgment, I orderanother. I am not a big drinker like Kieran but tonight we celebrate our favorite holiday.

I want Kieran to relax and get out of his head and since alcohol is his poison, why the fuck not?

Kieran has been drinking since noon, and it didn’t take me long to catch up. I am by no means a “cheap date”, but alcohol usually fucks with my high, so I tend to just stick with my weed or whatever I fancy at the time.

I offered Kieran some of my stash before we came in but as usual, he declined.

The chaos around me seems to fade away as my thoughts drift to Kieran. I can almost feel the warmth of his body against mine, the way I imagine his touch would send shivers down my spine.

My fingertips ache to trace the contours of his muscles, to feel the heat of his skin beneath my touch. The fresh shot of whiskey burns in my throat, but it doesn’t compare to the fire that Kieran ignites within me ever since Alex, our pretty little Dove.

Images of our stolen moments together dance in my mind, each memory more vivid than the last. He has been distant after our night withher. He subtly recoils whenever I touch him, and he refuses to talk about that night. He has had a haunted look in his eyes ever since.

I brought him here to knock back a few drinks and relax. It’s the last club on my list for tonight; we’ve never been here, but I’ve heard so much about this place.

Kieran hasn’t returned from his smoke break yet, and a sense of unease prickles at the back of my neck.

He seemed quite drunk when he stepped out. I fucking hope I don’t find him face-down on the curb. Maybe he is in the alley, balls-deep in that cute, drunk little thing who came over and flirted with him earlier.

I glance around the crowded dance floor, searching for any sign of him, but he’s nowhere to be found. With a sigh, I push away from the bar, weaving my way toward the exit.

The cold night air hits me like a slap in the face as I step outside, the alley bathed in darkness save for the faint glow of the streetlamp on the other side of the road.

“Kieran!” My breath forms wispy clouds in the chilly air, but there’s no response.

A flicker of worry tugs at my gut as I round the corner, half expecting to find him still smoking and leaning against the wall with a lit cigarette between his fingers. But the alley is empty, and dark.

---