Page 17 of Unhinged
I give him a swift smack on the back of his head, the sound sharp in the confined space.
“Think with the head on your shoulders, not the one between your legs,” I snap, frustration seeping into my tone. We’re here on business, not pleasure, and I don’t need distractions from my men, especially not now.
Pushing open the door to the basement, the sight that greets us is all too familiar. She’s still tied to the chair, but her appearance has changed. Her hair, once neatly pinned up, is now wild and disheveled, her eyes darting around with a mix of defiance and desperation. The look she gives us is anything but submissive. Instead, it’s almost… mocking.
“So nice of you to join me in my suite,” she says, sarcasm dripping from every word.
I can’t help but feel a grudging respect for her bravery. Here she is, tied up, beaten, and yet she still has the nerve to sass us. If she wasn’t a means to an end, I might admit her bravado has my cock hardening in my jeans.
“Have you decided to cooperate or should my boy, Acid, smack you around a little more?”
“Oooh, can I take option C? We make a deal and he slaps me around? I’ve always liked it rough when I play,” she sasses and I see her wiggle in her chair. The groans from Acid and Arrow behind me are telling. They’re clearly affected by her words and scent, their restraint fraying at the edges.
“Tell us what we need to know and you can take your kid and go,” I growl, trying to keep control of the situation.
“It’s not that easy,” she says, a grimace forming on her face. “I have a few more questions before I make up my mind.”
“Shoot,” I reply and sit on the chair backward across from her, leaning my arms against the back.
She pauses, a groan leaving her throat and I quirk a brow at her. Something is going on with her right now, but I’m not sure what.
“Say I tell you who the Alpha Slayer is. I want to know what your intentions are. I’m not sending the killer to their death. Now, if you’re wanting to work together, I’d be more convinced to share what I know. But I can tell you that the Slayer doesn’t know anything about your dealers or drugs. Their kills are purely based on the hurting of helpless, unsuspecting people, not drugs, unless drugs are their weapon of choice.”
I let her words sink in, considering the implications.
“I’d prefer to work together. While Acid is one hell of an enforcer, we could use someone else with the Slayer’s skill set as our territory grows,” I answer her honestly.
“So you want to meet and see if they’ll what— join your biker gang?” She laughs, but her face contorts like she’s in pain.
Acid must have really worked her over good.
“Not that it’s your concern, but yes. If the Slayer agrees to stop killing at random and kill for us, he will be unharmed and an ally to The Renegade.”
My nose twitches as her scent gets stronger. Why her scent is so strong when she’s a beta, I’m not sure. Maybe she has a condition of some sort, or the beating put her body in overdrive.
“No.” She shakes her head.
“No?” I ask. “How do you know what he’d agree to? You his secretary or some shit?” I laugh and Acid chuckles along with me.
“Or some shit.” She smiles. “The Slayer won’t agree to stop killing at random. As I just said, their kills aren’t random. They are based on harm to others. They’re not going to give that up to become an assassin for you. No matter what the pay is.”
I look at Arrow and then Acid and they shrug.
“Fine. We could agree to go over the targets with them. I’m sure they’re planned with how under the radar he’s flown. So we just get a heads up and they are free to kill as they want. A you scratch my back, I scratch yours.”
“Okay.” She nods slowly. “I wanna see my son and I’ll tell you what you wanna know.”
“Deal.” I stand, signaling for the guys to follow me as I head upstairs.
Pullingthe kid away from my mom, the movie, and the snacks is no easy feat. Mom gave us all an earful again as Dillon laughed her ass off. Seems my momma is fond of the little shit, though I’m not sure why; he’s mouthy as hell, just like his mom.
I try to ignore the pang of guilt gnawing at me. The kid's cheeky demeanor reminds me of myself as a child, too.
I hold his arm as I pull him as gently as I can to the stairs. When I get the door open, we don’t even get to take the first step before Arrow is shoving past us and bolting down the stairs.
“What the fuck was that about?” I snap, looking at Acid.
Acid’s adjusting himself, clearly uncomfortable. His groan is filled with frustration.
