THE BUTCHER OF THE BAY

PART II

J BREE

CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

Author Bio

Also by J Bree

CONTINUE READING FOR AN EXCEPT FROM

Also by J Bree

Prologue

To Greg—

My Monster

PROLOGUE

THE FOREST at the edge of Mounts Bay is cold this time of year.

I arrived here days ago, the trail I’m following not yet cold, and if the pattern holds true then there’ll be a new present left here for me.

I don’t believe in spirits but you don’t have to believe to feel them in the air here.

I pull my jacket around my shoulders and set off. I walk with silent feet, a skill I’ve honed, so despite wearing my biker boots there isn’t any sound coming from me. I don’t bother with a torch either, my eyes are better in the dark.

There’s a clearing, out past the sawmill, and it’s there I find the blood trail.

Perfect.

I follow it, the trees becoming denser and the wildlife more active here. There’s clearly not a whole lot of human activity out here on the regular which fits the pattern perfectly.

The presents are never left out in the open, never somewhere where someone on the straight and narrow would find it. No, he wants me to find this one first. His letters have made that perfectly clear.

This game we’re playing, this puzzle I’m having to unravel, it keeps my mind busy and out of trouble. The kind of trouble that has me leaving my own trails of blood deep in haunted forests.

I can hear the rabbits out to play, some foxes too. I know where I’ll find my gift by how busy the animals are, scurrying around her and speeding up the decaying process by taking a nibble.

This one is a red head.

Hm.

That’s a first. Usually they’re all dark-haired, their ethnicity always differs but there’s never a blonde.

Her chest has been cracked open, like they always are, and her eyes are open and staring sightlessly up at the stars. Her arms are splayed out and her legs are spread. She’s also naked, except for the shoes.

I snap on a pair of gloves. The FBI is following these murders, the girls have already turned up in ten different states, and I don’t need to be leaving behind any extra evidence.

I pry her jaw open, difficult with the rigor mortis already setting in, and I find the note. Always in their mouths. I read it and then place it back down on the chest of the body, leaving it for whoever finds the corpse. I’ll let them guess at the clues that have been left for me, left to taunt me until I can figure this puzzle out.

THE REASON the Son of God appeared was to destroy the works of the devil. - 1 John 3:8

CHAPTER ONE

Illi

I MET little Matteo D'Ardo at the group home.

We slept in different rooms, the little psycho was years younger than me and I didn't notice him when he first arrived. Everyone knew his story though, everyone knew that he'd slit his mother's throat while she slept, escaped juvie because of the state that the emergency services found him in.

I didn't ask questions.

I regret that now.

Maybe if I knew just how badly fucked up his life was before we became ride or die I'd know why the hell he'd become such a fucking traitorous cunt. I mean it had to come from somewhere.

The Bay skews things a little in all its inhabitants' brains. We don't see things in the conventional sense of black and white, it's about survival and loyalties here. Do whatever it takes to die another day, keep your belly full, sleep with some sort of peace. There's a lot that we'd do without flinching, no hesitation as we pull the trigger.

Betraying our friends isn't supposed to be one of those things and I never would have expected it from him... nah, he was fucking solid from day one.

The group home was a little more strict back in our day. They counted us on the hour every damn hour when we were back from school. We had jobs to do there, slave labor with no pay and barely enough food to survive, but I'd been sent out on one of those jobs.

Community service type shit, cleaning up roadsides and gardening in the local parks. I didn't care for it but I also had nothing better to do. I was busy trying to figure my fucking life out at that point, was I going to kill the Adder for what he did or just try to live a normal life? I was decent at school... I could figure that shit out maybe.

Problem was, I was big for my age. I always liked working out, taking care of myself, and I would go running when I could so I was fucking quick on my feet. I liked watching the MMA games when we were allowed the TV on at the group home and I knew that someday I'd want to get in those cages.

Even then I knew I wasn't going to be someone who let my opponents live.

Win or die.

It's in my blood.

So I'm busy raking fucking leaves in the park near the city hall and I'm deep in the trees, so deep I can just barely see the giant plaques with quotes of justice on them, when two of the other kids jump me. A shovel to the back of the head took me down and dazed me enough that they get me on the ground, whaling on me and stomping on my ribs.

I didn't know it but the Adder had sent them to take care of me, the last piece of that puzzle taken care of.

Then one of them drops to the ground.

I manage to pick my brains up enough to grab the leg of the other one and snap it with my bare hands, malnutrition helping me out because it's like a fucking twig. The kid grunts but doesn't start screaming until he's on the ground with his friend and finally sees what dropped him.

There's a garden trowel sticking out of his fucking eye socket buried far enough that the jelly-like eyeball has oozed out and his brain matter is starting to show.

I stare over at him and then I see D'Ardo.

Skinny little fucking thing, all arms and cheekbones, but his eyes are fucking clear and sure. He knew what he was doing and this is an olive branch, a gesture of friendship.

I take it.

I take it because even my own worthless father didn't throw down like that for me, no one had done that shit for me since my mom was hacked to pieces.

"What's your name, kid?"

His eyes are like little black holes in his face as he swings them my way. "Matteo, but you already know who I am."

I shrug, lurching to my feet and wincing at the state of my head. I stare down at the guy who's still breathing, his chest heaving as he pukes his guts up. I don't know if it's the pain or his friend's leaking head that's got him losing his shit but it doesn't fucking matter. I glance around but there's no one close by.

"I know your story, doesn't mean I know you. You ever buried someone alive before?"

I swear I see these voids of his light up. "I can kill him for you too. There's nothing better than blood on your hands."

The guy on the ground starts fucking sobbing.

Pathetic.

"Dead men don't talk. If you really want to hang out with me then we do this my way." I grab the shovel they had used on the back of my head and hold it out to the kid.

He stares at it.

I huff under my breath. "You've escaped juvie once, you think you'll be lucky a second time? Dig a hole. I'll take care of this guy."

The guy on the ground is now trying to crawl away, his broken leg dragging at a weird angle that must be fucking painful but his survival instinct has kicked in and he's figured out this is the end of the line for him now... too bad it's a little too fucking late.

I'm not my fucking dad.

I take care of my own shit.

Matteo smirks at the look on my face, something there telling him I'm not pussying out of the job, and he starts digging. I slip the knife out of my jeans, something I've carried long before I came to the group home and I step forward to stand on the ankle of his broken leg.

He grunts. But holds back a scream

Doesn't fucking matter, those plaques of justice mean fucking nothing in this city. The only justice around here is the type you get in the streets, an eye for an eye.

"Were you sent by someone or was this some sort of pissing contest, trying to look big by taking me out?"

The guy's lip wobbles but he doesn't breathe a word.

Fine.

We'll do it the hard way.

He ends up a strong guy, even after I've slit his belly open and pulled his guts out he stays conscious. Doesn't tell me a goddamn thing but when the kid helps me roll his body into the hole we spot it.

"That's the Adder’s sign. Have you done something to piss the Adder off?"

I seal my lips shut, no point airing my fucking pain, but I nod sharply. Knowing it's a hit only changes things a little. It solidifies the plan to deal with the cunt.

And it means I'm never getting the fuck out of the Bay.

I start shoveling the dirt back into the hole, thinking through every little step I'll have to go through to take the Adder the fuck out. It's not going to be easy. Chances are it's not going to be something I could even fucking do, but I'm fucking smart and better than that, I'm stubborn.

I'll bathe in the cunt’s blood for what he did.

The kid watches me, his eyes too big for his gaunt little face. I'm sure I look fucking homicidal, the shovel light in my hands as I stomp on the grave of my attackers, patting the dirt down and swishing the leaves around until it looks undisturbed. The pigs here don't give a fuck but I'd rather be careful.

It would greatly impede my revenge if I'm sitting in juvie for a few months before I turn eighteen.

"You can't kill a member of the Twelve, Johnny. The others will come after you."

I flinch before I can stop myself, and I hope the kid doesn't notice. I can't stand people using my name, not without hearing my mom in my head every time someone says it. Everyone at the group home is addressed by their surname. So it's been a while since I had to deal with it. Fuck.

So I lie.

"My friends call me Illi."

Too bad he was never my fucking friend.

THE JACKAL SENDS HIS REGARDS.

The Jackal sends his regards.

The Jackal sends his mother fucking regards, I will choke that fucking cunt out while I bathe in his goddamn blood.

I stare down at the dead body in my kitchen. Three bullet holes, all of them in his chest. I move towards the guy in my living room. Headshot, half his face is missing so it was a close range.

Great job, baby girl.

Her easel is knocked over, there’s blood on the couch, and vomit on the floor. The vomit nearly fucking kills me because my girl has only done that when she’s fucking terrified. I am going to gut that motherfucker slowly, pull his insides the fuck out and make him fucking swallow them.

I grab my phone and hit dial on his number, my hands fucking shaking with the need to find him and fucking destroy him.

Ringing.

Ringing.

Click.

Nothing.

"I know you're there, motherfucker. I can hear you breathing."

He laughs down the phone at me and it takes everything I have in me not to throw the fucking thing at the wall.

"I guess I just wanted to see what it was the infamous and bloody Butcher had to say to me so urgently."

I speak through my clenched teeth. "Where the fuck is she, you spineless piece of shit?"

He's silent for a second and I stop breathing to listen to anything that might give me a fucking clue about where the hell he is, where the hell he's taken my girl, but there's fucking nothing.

"I told you to get a side project, not lose your fucking balls to some used up pussy. I'll get her out of the way, take a day or two to get your head together, and then we can meet up for drinks at the Dive. You just needed a little reminder of who you are, Johnny-boy."

If this fucking poser slum lord calls me that again... the death I'm going to give him...

Rage.

Pain.

Blood.

There's nothing else I can think about or process except the death I'm going to give him. Fuck, I'm going to make the Devil look like a fucking amateur. They will tell fucking fables about what I do to this fucking cunt.

"Listen to me, D'Ardo, and listen good. We're done. There's not going to be drinks or meet ups. No more going out hunting together, no calling me when shit goes south. You've burned this bridge and I'm not a viable option for you anymore but what's worse... if Odie has been harmed in any way, she get's a fucking splinter or a fucking broken nail between when you took her and when I get her back... you remember what I did to the Barracuda right? Fuck me, you'll be praying for that death by the time I'm through with you."

He scoffs down the phone. "Fuck man, you've gone soft. There's no way you can find me in time now, no way you can get the little blond snatch back."

He hangs up and I move to throw my phone at the wall, stopping only at the last second when my brain kicks in.

I need some fucking help and I need it right the fuck now.

Getting Odie back alive and untouched is the first fucking priority, nothing else matters right the fuck now.

I call Harbin again but it goes straight to voicemail. Roxas’s does the same, fuck everything.

The kid doesn't pick up either.

Deep fucking breath, I remind myself that don’t need to be breaking my phone.

I think I know what causes people to snap and carve innocent people up because, fuck me, I need something to take the edge off right now.

It almost kills me, but I call the Coyote. Odie is worth whatever it takes to get her back. She’s worth everything.

"What's up, man? You got some green you wanna hand over or something?"

I blow out a breath and try to calm the rage enough to speak to the cockhead. I can’t have him hanging up because it’ll only waste time having to track him the fuck down. “Fair warning; tonight isn't looking good for your attitude man, so lose it before you lose your head. I need you to trace a couple of phone numbers for me."

He snorts at me. "Oh yeah? Maybe I'll just hang up then and go back to jerking off. That's a little more interesting than your shitty attitude."

Fuck this, I’ll gut him once I’m done with D’Ardo. I clench my jaw so hard it makes a crunching noise. "I'll transfer you double the last payment if you answer your phone to me all night and give me the information I need without the lip. Fuck, I'll triple it if you find what I need."

Silence.

Fucking silence.

"Gimme the numbers. What the fuck has happened to you?" He says, the jokes and sarcastic tone gone. Good. If ever there was a day for the little shit to get serious, this is fucking it.

I want to tell him I'm about to kill the Jackal, the Vulture, every suit that ever showed up to the auctions, and any guy I've ever seen buying skin. Fuck, I kinda wanna kill anyone with a dick in the Bay.

I don't tell him that.

Instead, I read out Harbin and Roxas's numbers and then, hesitating for the slightest of seconds, but I think fuck it and read out D'Ardo's too.

"Fuck man, you want me spying on another member of the Twelve? You guys still got beef or something?"

"Something like that. Is he at the vaults or not?"

The Coyote grunts down the phone, the tapping of his keyboard as loud as fuck but at least I know he's doing the job. I stare down at the pile of vomit and blow out a frustrated breath. I can’t find her if I lose my goddamn head.

“The first two numbers are both down at the docks. I mean at the fishing side, nowhere near your digs. The Jackal is showing up at his vaults but he's definitely not there. I've tracked his bodyguard’s phone and that's showing up crossing state lines. It’s moving, they’re in a car. There's no way Luca is going anywhere without the Jackal. He doesn't take a shit without Luca watching and wiping his ass.”

Luca.

The blond idiot.

"How the fuck do you know this?"

He laughs. "Fuck, man, do you know how many times the Jackal has tried to kill me? I keep an eye on what the little deranged psycho is up to on the regular."

I move to the bedroom to start strapping on extra weapons, enough that I could take out the entire Bay without running out of bullets. "Why the fuck are you telling me this? I could be lying to you for all you know. I could tell D'Ardo about this little conversation and get you in the shit with your little fuck buddy friend, the Crow."

My phone buzzes and I move it away from my ear to find the coordinates for the phone locations there. Fuck. D’Ardo has a three hour lead on me. I take a fucking deep breath.

I lift the phone back to my ear right as the Coyote says, "You know the Wolf killed my mom for me, right? Gutted the selfish cunt while she slept in her bed. Never said a word about it to anyone, never narked on me to the Crow or fucking anything."

I grunt in reply. Sounds exactly fucking like her, too.

"She called me and told me she was vouching for you, anything you needed I should give you and square with her later. If she trusts you then, fuck it, I guess I'll give you what you need without the fucking lip... even if it does make the job fucking boring."

The kid is too fucking good to me, I swear to God. "I'll pay my own way, don't ever ask the Wolf for payment for my shit. She can vouch for me but I'll fucking gut you if you ask her for shit, Coyote."

He sniggers under his breath at me. "Fuck man, what the hell is with that girl’s pussy that you're all panting after it?"

I sling my jacket over my shoulders and take the stairs down to the garage three at a time, ignoring the dead assholes in my apartment. I should call for a clean up but that would take time I’m not willing to fucking waste right now. "I'll call you if I need anything else, keep your phone close. Oh, and Coyote?"

He grunts at me and I wait until I'm in the car before I say, "You ever disrespect the Wolf like that to me again and I'll give you a whole new meaning of the word fucked, you hear me?"

CHAPTER TWO

Odie

THE MOON IS HANGING high in the sky, shining down on us and illuminating the apartment so I can see the room clearly. The smiling man at the door has four men with him but I know exactly which of them is in charge. The thick black lines tattooed on his face make the smile look even more terrifying, the grin is something savage on his handsome face.

My heart starts to pound in my chest, the sound deafening in my ears. There's a gun tucked under the pillows on the couch, mon Monstre had told me to always have one close. I'd thought he was being overprotective but now I'm so thankful to have it there. I'll only have one chance to grab it, one opportunity to grab it and kill these men.

The smiling man speaks, my skin crawling at the sound, "I guess I can see why he's so caught up on you. You're hot and I guess Johnny-boy always was a tits man."

He knows mon Monstre but the way he speaks... even without the threatening entrance I'd know he was not here as a friend. No.

He's here for me.

He's here to hurt Illi through me.

After everything he has done for me, all of the love and tenderness he has given me, there is no way I will ever allow him to be hurt through me... not if I can help it anyway. I want to make him proud of me and I know that protecting myself, not just killing these men but doing it to keep myself safe, nothing would make mon Monstre happier.

So I stand there in silence, not speaking a single word, and I wait until the smirk on his face drops away. He doesn't find my silence amusing. I'm sure he was expecting me to scream and cry but I won't ever give him that satisfaction. He flicks a hand out in my direction, his men moving as one to grab me.

I dart forward to the couch, shoving my hand under the pillow and getting the gun in a firm grip. The training Illi has given me kicks in and I have the safety off and the gun aimed true in a split second. None of the men falter, though they smirk at the sight of me. I'm sure I look weak standing there, paint splattered and my legs bare.

I aim for the one staring at my exposed legs lecherously first. Three shots in his chest, no hesitation as he roars and goes down in a spray of blood from the exit wounds.

The other men come to a halt.

"Ah, look. There is some fire in you! I was a little disappointed to begin with, whore. I thought Johnny-boy had lost his balls over some pathetic little piece of ass. At least you'll be fun to play with."

Absolutely not.

Never again.

Illi and the le Loup had taught me enough that I'm not going to just be taken, there's no way I'm going to be a good girl, complacent in my own kidnapping. Not ever again.

Two men rush me at once and I get a shot in, blowing one of their faces off until there's blood and brain matter all over my canvas and paint supplies. I swing around to the other guy but he catches my arms as I move. I fire again but the bullet hits the ceiling uselessly, and my legs are taken out from under me. I roll like Lips taught me, kicking out and catching the man in the back of the knee. He goes down a little easier, less anger but he's quick to punch me, the blow too much for my already damaged brain.

I see stars and my stomach roils, bile climbing up my throat.

The gun is knocked out of my hands and when the man moves to straddle me, I vomit. There's no way I can stop myself from losing my stomach contents.

"Fucking disgusting. She might know how to shoot but she's definitely fucking broken. Pathetic."

I don't catch anything else he says as the man punches me again and I lose consciousness.

I COME to in the back of a car. My clothes are all still firmly in place and I'm not sore anywhere, thank God. The smiling man is sitting in the back with me, a blond man sitting next to him with blank eyes. His face is nice looking but I've learned that lesson already. The devil can wear kind eyes and a cutting tongue.

The smiling man looks me over and then says, "Look, it's nothing personal. I don't give a fuck about pussy at the best of times and used up pussy? Nah, not for me. It's just you've fucked with my friend and that's not part of my plan. He's a little... lost at the moment. He's not on the right path, I need to get him back to where he belongs, in the cage and working for me."

The words take my sore head a moment to decipher, translate, and understand. I swallow roughly, my mouth dry and my head pounding. I straighten up in my seat and look out of the windows. We're on a highway, I don't recognize anything around us.

"I'm tempted to try you out, you know? Tempted because of the prices you keep getting at auction. I don't know how the fuck the Vulture pitches you to his buyers but, fuck, they're hungry for whatever you've got for them. Blondes aren't really my thing, though."

My stomach clenches again, a fine sheen of sweat starting up in my brow. I must look ill because the smiling man suddenly looks more dangerous, the smile dropping away.

"Vomit in my car and I'll make you clean it back up with your tongue. Fuck, I'll film it and send it to Johnny, make him see some fucking sense."

I swallow again, clutching at my stomach. He laughs, a manic sound.

"Good to know you can speak English. I don't really give a fuck if you can understand me but it would be fucking weird to be sitting here talking without you understanding me. Wouldn't it, Luca?"

The blond guy pastes on a grin, the look of it thin and fake. "Sure would, Boss."

I let my eyes fall shut again as my head pounds and my stomach clenches violently. I must not vomit. I will not suffer that humiliation on top of everything else I've been forced to endure.

Thankfully, the car slows to a stop and that helps the sick feeling in my gut more than anything else. The house we've parked in front of is small and rundown, bullet holes in the outside walls. Luca holds my elbow, gently but firmly as I trip over my own feet. The pounding in my head only gets worse. I start to wonder if I'm going to have permanent damage this time.

I get taken to a bedroom and my entire body begins to shake and tremble. I can't do this again. I can't have another man touch me, not after mon Monstre has taught me again what it means to be touched and worshiped once more.

"Chain her to the bed." The smiling man snaps, stalking out of the room.

I back up into the corner and try to remember exactly what I was taught by Lips but everything is a little sluggish and foggy. Luca grimaces and glances over his shoulder, quietly shutting the door and walking over to me with his hands raised. "It's okay, Odette. I'm not going to hurt you, I'm trying to get backup and to get you out."

I blink at him.

He knows my name.

He nods slowly. "Look, I need to tie you to the bed so the Jackal doesn't know I'm trying to help you but... I can stop anyone from hurting you. I can get them to leave you alone until I can get you out."

I blink at him.

Maybe my brain is too damaged but that makes no sense to me at all, the chances of a decent man being the right-hand man to that nasty Jackal... it just doesn't make any sense.

He blows out a breath and slowly moves to guide me to sit on the bed. He doesn't actually touch me, just motions at me until I am where I need to be and then he cuffs one of my wrists to the bed frame.

He leaves my legs alone. That helps me to believe him a little more.

"Are you friends with Illi?" I murmur.

He shakes his head and glances over his shoulder at the door again. "That man hates me but it doesn't matter. I'm not helping you because we're friends... I try to help whichever of the Jackal's victims I can. It's... a long story and I can't tell you half of it. Just know that I'm trying to get you out."

My heart thumps in my chest. He sounds so sincere, so gentle and kind, that there's some part of me that doesn't want to trust him at all. He sighs again and nods, walking back to the door swiftly and opening it sharply.

There are three men waiting there, one of them with his hand raised like he was about to shove the door open himself.

Luca's back tenses and one of the men in the door adjusts himself suggestively, cupping himself. I squeeze my eyes shut. I need to prepare myself to fight back if one of them tries to touch me. I have to remember all of the things le Loup taught me.

Aim for the weak spots. Try to get hold of a weapon. Never stop fighting.

"Get the fuck outta here, Reggie. Did the boss tell you to fuck her? No? Then leave."

My eyes snap open again at Luca's words. He's shifted his stance and now he's blocking the doorway completely, his arms hanging by his side. I can see the weapons he has under his jacket, something I've gotten good at thanks to watching Illi get ready each evening.

Reggie doesn't like that answer,. the sneer on his face shows his yellowed teeth. I can smell the cigarettes from here on the bed, as if he chain smokes and never brushes his teeth. "Boss always lets us sample the goods, don't be fucking greedy."

I do not want that man anywhere near me but I prepare myself in case Luca lets him. I'll aim for the eyes.

Luca doesn't move an inch. "Get your ass outside and keep watch. I'm not having us hacked to fucking pieces by the Butcher because you're too busy being balls-deep in his favorite toy. Move. Your. Fucking. Asses."

All three of them mutter under their breaths but at the mention of Illi and what he'd do to them they start moving. Clearly he really is as infamous as he says.

It doesn't make sense that the Jackal would still want to betray him... to take me away as if mon Monstre would just forget about me. He would never forget me, I know that the same way I know the sun will rise again in the morning, no matter what happens to me.

The sun will rise.

I SIT ALONE in the room for three hours.

I know this for sure because there's a clock on the small bedside table, the flashing red lights meaning I'm sure the time isn't correct but it shows the passing of time all the same. The door is open and I can hear the men moving around the house, laughing and joking with each other. The little snippets of their stories that I hear chill me to the bone, the things they say are so horrifying... I don't understand why Luca is with them at all. Does he stay so he can help people? Would it not be better to take out the Jackal than to clean up after him?

It makes no sense.

I think about this the entire time I'm stuck there watching the minutes tick over. My head hurts enough that I want to sleep but I force myself to stay conscious. Finally, when I'm ready to scream in frustration, the Jackal walks in again. The pleasant mask he keeps over his features has slipped away and the evil that lurks underneath shows now he's not smiling at me. His eyes are soulless, utterly evil.

Luca follows him in, his eyes anywhere but me as they talk between themselves.

The Jackal motions at me dismissively. "I found a private buyer, easier to offload her that way. I'd get more selling her through the Vulture but doing it privately, Johnny won't find her until she's dealt with and he'll finally get his head back. That's more important than money."

Luca nods carefully, his hands slipping into his pockets. "Where am I taking her, Boss? I'll do it now so we can get back to the Bay. Don't want to waste the entire night with this bullshit, do we?"

The Jackal chuckles under his breath and I can still only see the evil man, the smile is something out of my worst nightmares. I find myself praying it will be Luca who takes me because I'm starting to think that he won't really take me. The other men, they would try to hurt me, but Luca... I think he'd try to get me home safe.

I honestly think my luck is the worst in the world.

A phone rings and the Jackal pulls it out of his pocket to answer it, his face getting more and more evil. It's like watching the sunset, the darkness growing and growing until it's pitch black and you're swallowed by the blackness. I swallow back the fear that swells in my stomach.

“Something has come up. The Wolf has been threatened.”

Luca curses under his breath, running a hand through his hair. "The cartel? Or the mafia? I heard Giancomo was pissed about some of her work.”

The Jackal looks over at me. “She didn’t say who the threat was from.”

Clearly, he's guessing the wrong man.

Illi would never harm the Wolf… not ever.

He steps towards the bed and his eyes narrow at me. "Johnny knows about my interest in her but I never thought he’d interfere. He never has before. Do you think he'd betray me like that, over some little broken pussy? Hmm? Maybe I should try it out, see if it scrambles my brain the way it has the infamous Butcher’s."

Luca takes a deep breath, silently and where the man can't see it behind him. "He wouldn't do it, boss. He's lost his head but he's not fucking stupid, no one would do the Jackal of Mounts Bay like that. Besides, broken pussy? Not good enough for you."

The Jackal's eyes narrow at me even more, like he's thinking that through, testing how the words sound and deciding for himself if they fit his own narrative. He clearly thinks a lot of himself because the smirk slides back over his lips.

"I guess Giancomo has been making noise about her for a while… makes sense I guess. Fucking inconvenient timing. You're with me Luca, I'll leave the whore here for pick up. It's not like she can go anywhere chained to the bed like that... not unless she bites through her own fucking wrist. Maybe I'll leave a camera, just in case. That would be a sight to see."

My stomach drops, but at least he's leaving and taking his men with him. I... I don't think I could do that to myself but maybe...

Luca shakes his head at me, motioning for me to stay quiet. "I'll set one up for you, Boss. It would be something to see, right?"

They both laugh and the Jackal leaves, calling out to some of his other men as they all start to move around the house and collect their weapons. Luca helps clear the room then takes out a camera. Once the sounds of the other men have cleared he keeps his eyes on the open doorway and says, so quietly I have to stop breathing to hear it, "I'll send help. I don't know if they'll get here in time but... I'll try."

Tears start to stream down my face again, gratitude and relief that this man would even try. I have no doubt of what the Jackal would do to him if he found out... I need to keep that information close to my chest for now. Close enough to keep him safe the way he's tried to do for me.

It might all be for nothing.

But I can hold onto the hope blooming in my chest, I can take hold of it tightly to keep me going until I'm back in the arms of mon Monstre.

The loud bang of the front door closing again is a relief.

I wish I could have a little rest to ease the pounding in my head but it's too risky. If the sleep is too deep I could be caught unaware by whoever makes it here first. I need to remember everything le Loup has taught me.

Trust no one. Aim for the weak spots. Try to get hold of a weapon. Shoot straight. Never stop fighting.

Less than five minutes after Luca and the Jackal leave I hear the sounds of cars and I pray, I pray so hard, that it's mon Monstre here to get me or le Loup. Anyone, someone I know, anyone but another rapist.

I know the second I see him that he is no friend of Illi's. The gleam in his eye... no, he is definitely not here to save me. There are dozens of men with him, all of them packed with weapons and smirks on their faces. My head begins to pound again.

"Ah, there she is. Utter perfection! Devareux will be so pleased to see her in such good shape."

I must have done something terrible in a past life.

CHAPTER THREE

Illi

THE KID GETS BACK to me the minute I hang up from the Coyote but I don't hesitate in getting the car on the road again. "Odie's gone."

She swears under her breath. "Cartel?"

"D'Ardo."

She groans and curses viciously under her breath, the kid has the mouth of a true Mounty. "Where are you? I'm out on a job but... I can... I can call him. I can distract him while you find her. It might stop him getting his hands on her. Fuck."

Fuck me, I don't want to ask that of her but I’m definitely a monster of the worst kind because I’ll take it. I’d take anything to get Odie back. I can’t get my hopes up that she hasn't been touched but fuck me if this doesn't feel like my penance. I should have never fucking trusted that arrogant little cunt.

"Distract him how? Word is he's taken off with her, across state lines. He's not going to come back for you, kid."

I run every red light I come across, none of them even registering to me though there's horns blasting around me like I'd give a fuck.

She clears her throat. "I know something that he would come back for, no question. It'll buy you a few hours, just watch out wherever he turns around from. The Coyote—"

"He's tracking her. Thanks, kid. If there were any other way—"

"Don't fucking give me that, I told you I'd help you with whatever you needed and if I say something I always follow through. Odie is worth it. I'll call you once it's done."

She hangs up before I can get another word in but there’s not much else I can say to her besides she’s too fucking good for the Bay.

Too fucking good to be friends with someone like me.

I hit the highway and really let my Mustang fly, pedal to the metal, ready to cut the trip in half if I can. There isn't a cop in the city who doesn't know who this car belongs to and none of them would ever want to pull me over and deal with the Butcher, especially if I'm tearing around like this.

A blind man would know I'm not in the best of fucking moods.

Please, don't let him hurt her. Don't let him torture her with his personal brand of fucking evil. Not my baby girl.

The phone rings and interrupts my useless praying.

"Luca's on the move but they're heading back to the Bay."

Fuck. That'll be the kid.

"Is there any way you can track the place they've left her? Hack into the fucking... house or whatever?"

The asshole snorts at me. "What fucking TV shows are you binging, man? There's no such fucking thing as hacking into a house. I've got the cell towers bugged and I'm listening for anything that might tip me off to people close to her but... fuck, without bugging the place myself there's fuck-all I can do except listen and wait."

I grit my teeth. Contain the rage, it's not the little asswipe's fault. "Call me the second something pings."

I hang up and shout, "fuck!" at the windshield, as if that'll fucking help.

The rest of the drive is like fucking torture.

Two hours of driving like the Devil himself is on my fucking ass and swerving through the traffic. My head is pounding with the pent up rage in me. The poison in my blood is begging for release, to kill and maim and torture, and being cooped up like this... it's fucking bad.

When I make it to Three Rivers, a shitty little speck of dust on the map, I have to slow it down a little, just enough to navigate my way through the place to find the GPS coordinates.

It brings me to a tiny little fucking house.

It's then that I realize that I don't know real torture, not until I find it fucking empty.

Fucking.

Empty.

There's a bed in one of the rooms and, fuck me, there's a pair of handcuffs hanging from the bedpost. I lose my ever-loving mind and punch a hole in the door, just fucking shredding it like the wood is nothing.

Once I get my head back together I call the Coyote back.

“You’re there, man. That's where they had her, if she's not there then... she's gone."

THE DRIVE back to the Bay is like pulling my fingernails out with fucking pliers.

I tore the house to fucking pieces first, fucking nothing, and then I started calling in my contacts, every last one of them until I had nothing left.

Nothing.

Then I called the kid and she didn't answer it, texting me the second the call ends.

She isn't with the Jackal. I'll find out what I can.

I think I might actually fucking drop dead. The rage pumping through my system is like poison, skewing everything and messing with my damn mind. I can't survive another wait like the last one. I can't go back to business as usual while I know she's out there being fucking brutalized. There's no fucking way.

I need the backup if I'm going to fucking find her.

So I drive straight for the fishing docks in the Bay, finding a bloodthirsty sort of calm settle over me, where I look okay until you touch me and then I'll rip your fucking arm off and chew the meat straight from the bone.

Fuck me, I'm going to tear Harbin and Roxas a new asshole each for ignoring my calls. They'll be lucky to survive me... one wrong word and I'll be down to one friend.

I can't think about whatever it is the kid said to D'Ardo to try and get him away from Odie. Not without feeling like the biggest fucking asshole in all of the Bay.

So I don't think about it, I just keep my foot planted on the pedal until the Mustang is straining to keep up with me the whole damn trip back. It's a wonder I make it back alive.

The fishing docks are teeming with bodies, it’s a fucking strange sight to see. I have enough brains still left in my head to park a block away and get closer on foot. I don't need to be stuck out here with no car thanks to a bullet in my fucking tires or my gas tank. There are bikers fucking everywhere, and all of them are Chaos Demons. Here I was thinking we'd gotten rid of these assholes but nope, hoards of them are loitering around, drinking and smoking. There's biker sluts wandering around in next to nothing, one of them even getting fucked loudly spread out over a hog.

I don't have time for this bullshit.

I need to find my fucking friends and get the fuck out of here, the longer I’m held up the more hell my girl could be going through. I palm a gun because bullets are better in this crowd than knives and a cleaver, and creep forward. There’s no scouts out clearly because everyone I pass is too fucking drunk to stop me from moving forward. I get all the way to the first bonfire, a fucking bonfire in the middle of the parking lot, before I’m stopped.

A hand grabs my arm and I turn on my heel ready to shoot some biker scum between the eyes, only to come face-to-face with Colt motherfucking Graves. He looks a little less beat up than the last time I saw him but fuck does he look pissed.

Why the fuck does he look so familiar?

He drags me behind one of the shipping containers where we have a little cover. Not a lot, but enough that we can have a little chat without catching bullets in our backs while we’re unaware.

"The fuck do you think you're doing here, Butcher? I thought we had an agreement." He hisses and I roll my eyes at him. I haven’t got time for goddamn biker politics, not at all.

"We have fucking nothing, but if you don't wanna die you'll get the fuck outta here. Tonight isn't the fucking night, man." I don’t even attempt to lower my voice, fuck the lot of them.

He looks over my shoulder, ducking around the corner a little and I’m guessing he’s eyeing his pops, because sure as shit Grimm is here. I take a half breath, just enough to not shoot him straight away. That breath costs me. It fucking costs me a whole lot because the bloodlust is riding me hard and I already know exactly how to hurt this motherfucker.

There must be something in my eyes because he gets one look at the crazed, manic energy there and grunts under his breath. "Fuck. It's the girl, isn't it? The bombshell."

Nope.

Not a good thing to say to me.

I don’t move a single muscle but he spots his mistake and takes a big fucking step back. "Fuck, I didn't mean it like that. I've got my own chick back home, man, I'm not sniffing around after yours. What the fuck are you here for? Chance is here but he's not going to be easy pickings for you tonight."

I frown at him, having completely fucking forgotten the reasons I'd grabbed him in the first place. The Viper’s agendas mean less than fucking nothing to me now. "I don't give a fuck about your little sibling rivalry. I'm looking for my friends. If they're here, I'm gutting whoever has brought them here."

Colt frowns and glances back at the centre of the party again. “The Unseen guys? Fuck. There’s no way Grimm’s gonna hand them over to you, man. I get that you’re the biggest bad in this city but you can’t take Grimm and his Council. That’s fucking suicide and you’re not going to get your woman back like that.”

I glance around again and try to think a little clearer, let the haze of my rage go a little and look at things rationally. Nope. Still think I could shoot them all and get my friends back to go to fucking work.

Colt does a quick look around himself and then curses under his breath. “Is that one your friend too? Fuck me, tonight is a fucking disaster waiting to fucking happen.”

I turn to find Harbin stumbling towards me, war and death etched into his face as clear as fucking day.

Good.

They’re some odds I can get behind.

His voice doesn’t have an inch of humor in it as he says, "Now it's a fucking party. Did you get our distress signals? Fuck man, we must be fucking butt-buddies at this point because I was just thinking I should call you in. Where the fuck is the kid? I feel like we need her in this fight. We killing this one? Let me do it, I’ve had a fucking night.“

I spin on my heel and stalk towards him, my fingers itching for my cleaver. “I don’t have time to deal with these assholes right now, I need backup and I need it the fuck now."

Harbin grimaces and rubs his face. "Fuck man. What’s happened?"

I fill him in, ignoring the biker kid still standing there full of fucking attitude but watching me with careful eyes. Fuck it, I don't even care.

“Fuck, what did the kid do to get him to leave your girl? She really took one for the team like that, man, you’re right about her.“

I shrug. "Yeah, when she says something, she follows the fuck through with it. Where the fuck is Roxas? We've gotta bounce. I’ll help you hack this lot to pieces once my girl is safe and home.“

Harbin scratches the back of his head with a grimace. “Fuck, of all the nights to have fucking hell break loose with your jealous jilted lover. After the demons took out the Dive we let them take Roxas as a trap, so now we're about to take out as many of the fuckers as we can. That’s going to eat up a whole fucking heap of the night though, man… if you’re on board to clean house then we can bounce. I just need to get Roxas back.”

He looks over at Colt and raises an eyebrow. "I guess we've already got us some extra bait here. How much do you think daddy is going to pay for your skin, little Colt?"

The biker kid doesn't flinch. "You'd be lucky to get a dime outta him for any of his kids, man, he doesn't give a fuck."

"What are you doing here then? Turning on your club?"

The scowl he gives is a good one, fucking fierce. "I live and bleed for the Demons, dickhead. I'm here because the Butcher was about to get his fucking head blown off and I knew there was a sweet blonde waiting for him back home. I don't know much about heaven and hell but I know when my soul is in danger of permanent damage and hurting that angel ain't what I'm about."

Okay.

So this biker is okay too, I guess.

Okay enough that I won’t kill him tonight and unless he stabs me in the back I’ll look the other fucking way.

"Right, enough bullshitting around. Odie's in fucking danger and I'm done with this pow wow. We're getting Roxas and we're leaving, whatever the fucking cost." I snap, and Harbin nods, pulling a gun out and peering around the corner.

Colt rubs the back of his head and then gives me a look. "Wanna kill two birds with one stone, Butcher? I have a proposition for you."

I move away from him. "I don't have fucking time for this shit, get gone Colt. Before you get dead."

He grabs my arm again and I think about choking the fucker out.

“The Jackal fucked you over, right? Took the angel you protect and is probably trying to hurt her. Well, let me help you fuck him over. Tell me where the Jackal keeps his drugs. Tell me where they’re stored and I'll take the Demons there right now, hit him while he's busy with the Wolf and force him into a face-off with the Demons. That way, this fight is his problem and not yours, and it gets him moving fucking fast. I can have the Demons moving in ten minutes."

Fuck me.

Fuck me, that’s a great plan.

I raise an eyebrow at Harbin, I respect his opinion just enough to get it now but he’s nodding. Hmm. The answer was a little too quick but I’ll question him about it later, once Odie’s safe.

It feels fucking amazing to hand over every tiny detail of the Jackal's inner business, every little piece of information the Demons need to clean out his warehouse and take out half his fucking business in a single night. Clearly Harbin can read it on me too because the death in his eyes eases up enough to grin at me.

Colt is gone the moment I’m done spilling every secret D’Ardo had ever given me about his business, some of them things I’ve worked out for myself and some of them things he hasn’t told anyone else.

I feel fucking lighter.

It’s like the final act of washing him outta my head, and only his death is left to get him outta my life too. Harbin peers out at the Demons, his cut noticeably missing but I guess he’s trying to blend in a little.

“You’re fine with them having a great night full of someone else’s drugs and money?”

He shrugs. “I’m playing the long game. The Boar is going to be fucking pissed but that’s never fucking stopped me before.”

True.

Fucking true.

The motorcycles start up around us. Colt is true to his word, the entire group of bikers are moving out less than ten minutes later, Roxas and the other Unseen sitting there by themselves tied to a fucking bench.

"What the fuck happened to our plan? I'm ready to bathe in Demon blood here!" He yells out the second he sees us walking up.

Harbin cuts him a look. "Bigger shit man, more urgent."

"What the fuck is more urgent than Demons in our fucking city? I took a fucking hit to the dick for this plan, I don't really wanna let that slide, man."

Harbin scoffs. "Yeah, I'm sure you don't. Odie is gone. Illi will square it with us later, get moving.”

My phone starts buzzing in my pocket and I stalk away from them, right as the other Unseen start arguing. I’ll gut them if I stick around and, again, time is of the fucking essence tonight.

I blow out a breath when I see it’s Lips. "What do you have for me, kid?"

“I found her. I found who bought her, one of the Vulture’s old contacts. I’m heading back to the group home to grab my supplies, come get me.”

I tip my head back and thank every fucking god, deity, spirit, star sign, and fucking moon I can think of for this kid.

“I’m naming my firstborn after you, kid. Fuck. I’m on my way. How did you get the intel?”

She chuckles and I hear her panting a little as she jogs. Must be killing her leg, more reason to fucking love her. “Nope, you really don’t want an Eclipse running around. I went through Matteo’s shit. Kinda hoping he’s busy enough not to notice. I wasn’t as careful as I usually am because… well, you know why I’m rushing. Get your ass moving, Butcher.”

I grin and start jogging to my own car, jerking my head at Harbin and Roxas to get them moving too. “I’ve sent him a little ‘Fuck you’ gift, kid. Don’t you worry bout a thing.”

She chuckles under her breath. “I’m sending you the coordinates but make sure you come grab me, yeah? You know I'm coming. You know nothing is stopping me from being there and gutting anyone that's touched her."

I could fucking weep at her conviction but I don't have that sort of shit in me so instead I hang up and get to my car.

CHAPTER FOUR

Odie

I KNOW INSTANTLY that I have been bought by a different class of man.

None of the men who come to collect me harm me in any way. They don’t attempt to touch me or speak down to me, there are no threats whispered at me or violence directed at me at all.

It’s as if I’m some precious jewel being transported by studious caretakers.

It makes my skin crawl.

None of this is happening because they care about me or think of me as a person, as a human being deserving respect and kindness. No. I'm a commodity and... and fuck am I sick of being a something for men to covet.

I hear that expletive in my head in mon Monstre’s voice and my heart breaks just a little.

But no, I'm not ever going to be a scared little girl again, a chained victim to be raped and toyed with at some disgusting man's whims.

They unchain me and direct me to walk with them out of the safe house and into the waiting cars. Bentleys, three matte black Bentleys and each of them have drivers.

I take stock of what weapons each of the men are wearing. There's no point in trying to run, I don't even know Illi's phone number to call him. The first thing I'm doing when he finds me is memorizing it and making a plan for the next time something like this happens.

I'm not even going to pretend it won't ever happen again.

The men are all carrying a lot of guns, not many knives. Mon Monstre had made me practice on so many different types of guns that if I can get my hands on one I know I'll be okay. I need to keep count of how many of these men there are as well. Le Loup had taught me all about that.

Less chances of being caught unaware.

Nine armed men, three drivers in the Bentleys and me. Okay. So it will depend on what sort of guns they have, but I might be able to kill them all if they have an automatic handgun. I'd have to have a perfect shot though, which will be harder.

I need two or three guns and a steady arm.

I'm helped into the back of the car, a man seated on either side of me, and I don't breathe a word to them. I just watch them all. I watch them and I look for all of the little clues and cues that le Loup had taught me. The way the men hold themselves. The words they use between each other. All of the things their bodies are saying, the way the silence in the car sounds. A million little things that I'd been so confused and overwhelmed with during the lessons, all of them are vital to my survival now.

And I'm going to survive this.

The driver is my best chance of getting a gun.

He's quieter but he's asked a few questions and keeps glancing back at me. He's new to this operation and unsure of what the protocol is. He'll be less likely to have a good grasp on how to interact with me. I don't know if I'll get left with him but that would be my best chance.

He also has a phone.

It's a smartphone and it opens with facial recognition so I could use the GPS to get back to the Bay. I haven't ever driven a car before so I shift my focus over to the mechanics of what the driver is doing. It doesn't seem so hard. The pedals make the car stop and go, and he isn't moving the stick much like Illi had to in his car.

I can do it.

The car ride goes on and on forever.

The man in the front seat asks me if I need to relieve myself at one point when we stop for gas but I shake my head. There's no point trying to outrun the twelve men here, better to wait this out and do what I can to get one of them alone.

The sky darkens again before we arrive at the house we're traveling to. I know for sure that this is the right one because the gates are large and ornate and closed. The car ahead of us pulls up and the driver's window rolls down, the man leaning out to speak into an intercom.

The gates open automatically and the car starts moving again, the house not yet visible through the trees that line the drive.

"Lord Devareux is a very rich man. He has paid a lot of money to be able to enjoy your company, do you understand? He will give you a life you cannot have anywhere else."

There's no threat or warning in the man's voice, just a quiet explanation of who it is that has bought me. A Lord. Why an English nobleman would be in America buying women is a mystery to me but it makes no difference to me what his name or title is. Only that he wants me enough to buy me from the Jackal.

"He has saved many girls from those auctions. They all are very grateful to him and he keeps in touch with them all after he gets them home. Is there somewhere you can return to?"

I keep my mouth shut.

I would never trust this man, or any other. I only trust mon Monstre and le Loup, the people who love me and have bled for me. Those people I will do anything to return to.

The man sighs and gives me a curt nod, as if I've displeased him but he's accepting of it. "You'll change your mind when you see the house. The girls we rescue always do. You'll have your own room here, your own bathroom, all of your own things. How long has it been since you’ve had your own room?”

I wonder how this man would react knowing that the Butcher of Mounts Bay gave me everything that he is trying to offer me without ever asking for anything in return? That I know for sure that he is tearing apart the country right now to find me? That the death he will give to them all for playing a part in my kidnap… I know it will be blood-soaked and archaic, something that will send them to the underworld with eternal suffering in their souls for all of time.

I don’t speak a word.

The mansion finally comes into view and it's huge, covered in creeping ivy, and warm looking. Homely. As if someone really lives here and loves it.

I don't trust it.

Not at all.

The car parks in front of the building, pride of place, while the other two pull away. Now would be the best time to kill the men in the car, but they all start moving as one. I'm unbuckled and directed out of the car with quiet instruction.

I still only have a night shirt on, my legs bare in the cool night air, and I pull my arms around my body tightly. One of the men removes his jacket and offers it to me but I refuse it. There's no way I'll ever wear another man's clothes. I can smell his cologne on it and my stomach roils at the smell.

It's the same one Alcatron used.

My breathing starts to quicken, and I know I'm about to vomit, the memories taking over my body but I don't let them cloud my mind. I need to stay sharp.

I lurch to the garden bed and vomit there, nothing but bile coming up. The retching hurts, my stomach clenching and the waves of nausea causing a cold sweat on my brow.

"The Jackal said you were clean, was he lying? This looks like a detox."

Stupid man.

I shake my head with a frown and wipe my mouth. He looks at me properly then, at the shaking of my arms and the goosebumps on my freezing legs.

"Lord Devareux doesn't enjoy watching women detox but we have a room for it if you need. There are no drugs here, he would never permit you to stay if you are caught taking anything. If your captor got you addicted, then you need to tell us."

I stare ahead of myself, at the large stones with the beautiful foliage draped artfully over it. I've never seen such a beautiful building, it's like something out of a storybook.

I wonder what twisted fairy tales happen here?

"Lord Devareux had this house built as a replica of his home estate back in France. It's in Marseille, he's taken women that he's rescued there before. I'm sure you would love France, it's a beautiful country."

Ah.

So they know nothing of who I really am or how I came to be in the Jackal's possession. I shouldn't be so surprised, he wouldn't have broadcast he was selling the French woman that the Butcher had hunted down in the Bay.

My heart clenches as they direct me up the stone steps and into the mansion.

How will mon Monstre ever find me here?

THE INSIDE of the mansion is just as beautiful as the outside.

There are paintings on the walls, all of them originals, and there must be at least a hundred million dollars of oils up there. There are vases and sculptures too but I'm less familiar with them, painting and sketching being my usual interests. They’re beautiful though, everything here has been carefully curated to show not only the good eye of the collector but the obscene wealth of the Lord himself.

The carpets are plush and well tended, hand woven Moroccan rugs splayed out lavishly. This man is wealthy, an aristocrat, and thinks very highly of himself if he thinks he's saving all of these women.

I won't be tricked again.

"This way, ma'am. Lord Devareux is meeting you for an early breakfast. It's almost six now, did you know? A long drive for us all. He'll give you a tour of the property afterwards and he'll talk you through what we're doing here. Once you're comfortable then you can head up to your room to rest."

He moves me around the table until we reach the chair to the left of the head of the table and seats me there like a perfect gentleman. There's a full dinner setting on the table, the series of knives and forks all perfectly spaced out. The man who seated me clears his throat and takes my napkin.

"American girls are not used to dining this way but Lord Devareux insists on holding to traditions. The napkin must rest over your legs." I Ignore him completely, tensing when he leans over me to place the napkin down. He's careful not to touch me though and when he fusses with it I carefully slip the knife at his waist out of the sheath. When le Loup has shown me this maneuver I had been so sure I would never have use for it but, once again, she was right to teach me. As he straightens I quickly move my hand under the table so he can't see the little gift he has just given me.

A knife alone won't get me out of the building, and home to the Bay, but it's a start.

There's a flurry of movement outside of the dining room and the man straightens himself up, tugging on his clothes and fussing with his cuffs.

"You should speak to the lord. He's done a lot for you already," he murmurs, but keeps his eyes on the doorway. He must be something if they all act like this. Cruel and wicked, or at the very least he must be strict on his men. My stomach drops when he walks in.

The man is handsome with an open face and kind eyes.

Older than me by many years but still very handsome and fit. He is the exact type of man I would have wanted before I met Illi but all of the refinement just looks hollow and fake to me now.

And there’s the small issue that he bought me.

“Ah. There’s my lovely breakfast guest! You really are a beauty, aren't you? No, no! Don't get up, I'll join you."

I didn't move a muscle to get up but he wasn't really speaking to me, he was teaching me of his expectations. My father used to do the same thing, only with more sarcasm and beatings.

He smiles at the man who walked me in. "Thank you, Smith! You've done a fine job of escorting Miss Delancy here."

Miss who?

Oh.

Right. The Jackal would have given me a fake name. I could tell him all about it but... he might decide to kill me rather than send me back to mon Monstre. Better to play along for now.

He waves Smith away and a server walks in with plates of fresh fruits already sliced up and cheeses.

"I like to start the morning with something light. We'll have something more filling after we've tried out the new cheeses. I had them shipped over from Europe, I supposed Smith told you where I'm from? He does like to gossip."

There's barely an accent to his voice, clearly he's been here a long time.

I don't speak or acknowledge his words in any way, I just stare down at my plate. I move slowly to tuck the knife under my thigh, thankful the blade is covered and I don't cut myself doing it. The pain wouldn't have been an issue but explaining the blood... that would be something else entirely.

"Ah, my guest is a shy one! Not to worry, I can talk enough for the both of us. It has been quite a long week for me, my dear. I lost one of my other dear friends. She went to go stay with her mother, a lovely girl but may I say she had nothing on your beauty. My, my. I wasn't expecting you to be so breathtaking! I’d heard rumors but I find it best not to believe such things.”

He tells me all about how important he is and, though I believe none of it, I listen for clues… anything that may help me to escape. He really does think quite a lot of himself and his acts of rescue.

I sit here at the dining table as if I’m complying to his whims but I refuse to eat or drink. I can’t take the chance because it could be drugged. I’m not starving yet, I can hold out for days now I’m back in good health. All of that bread and pasta will come in handy while I wait for mon Monstre.

Lord Devareux chuckles at me.

“Do I need to taste test everything for you, my dear? Or are you too tired to eat? I know you were on the road for a long time, it can be so taxing on a young lady.”

Still I keep my mouth shut. I won’t speak to him unless my life requires it, and only then because I wouldn’t ever hurt mon Monstre like that.

I must get back to him.

Lord Devareux doesn’t get offended at my silence or my refusal of food, instead he happily eats and drinks and talks about nothing important until he’s had his fill. He then wipes his mouth with a cloth napkin and excuses himself, overly polite and winking at me as if this is some sort of date. I try not to choke on the bile that creeps up my throat at his flirty antics.

It's difficult but I manage to get the knife tucked into my bra while he speaks to Smith at the door. I have to hunch down over the table to do it without the men seeing me if they glance my way.

They don't glance my way though, they don't for one second guess at what I'm doing. I wonder how many other girls have been here and how many of them have tried to escape? They don’t seem worried at all, but it’s not with the same air of confidence that Illi has. He didn’t care because he knows he can handle any situation, these men… they’re complacent.

Mon Monstre is never complacent, not with anything.

Even the Jackal wasn’t his fault. Betrayal like that is not something you can prepare for, not without building walls and casting everyone in your life out. What a miserable life that would be.

It was the life he rescued me from living in France, in a roundabout way.

No matter how much we both wish my time with the Cartel hadn’t happened, it was the path he found me on and I wonder if my heart would have ever opened to him without it? I wish I could be sure of it, but we both learned the hardest lessons then.

“My dear girl, I think it’s best if you go and lay down in your room. I will have lunch brought up to you there but you can rest for the day and sleep well tonight. Then we can speak again tomorrow morning. You clearly need some time to adjust to your new surroundings.”

I don’t nod or look at him, not acknowledging he’s spoken in any way, and I hear his sigh from across the room. Good. I hope I’m frustrating the shit out of this man.

He clears his throat and I finally look over at where he’s standing there with Smith. They’re both staring at me, Smith with a small, disapproving frown. When he comes to pull my chair out I stand up and follow him dutifully, the both of us walking over to Lord Devareux and then following him back through the mansion. It’s big enough that I make note of where I’m turning and what is around me so I can find my way back out through the door when I’m ready to make my escape. The vases and sculptures help, all of them unique enough to work as markers.

We go up two flights of stairs and down two separate hallways before we finally make it to my room. Lord Devareux ushers me in but stays at the door, holding up a little key.

"I must lock the door. It's for your safety, I've had girls try to run before and I wouldn't want you to be hurt. My land has a lot of wild animals on it, enough that you could be harmed if you went out without protection. I’m the only one with a key so you are quite safe here. Ring the bell if there's anything you need, my sweet. I'll come for you."

For me.

It could be a slip of the tongue but I'd never trust him not to try something while I sleep.

So I don't.

I lay down in the bed and I wait, my hand clenched tightly around the handle of the knife and I wait for him to come.

I'm not wrong.

He comes for me.

But he's not expecting what he gets.

CHAPTER FIVE

Illi

I COME to a screeching halt outside the group home and the kid dives out from the shadows, sliding into my car and I'm off again before the passenger car door is shut all the way.

She's in all black, big combat boots on her feet, and her bag slung unzipped as she starts strapping on holsters and sliding her weapons into place. I've never seen the kid carry so many different options.

I’m glad she packed for war.

She smirks at me as she clips the holster with the knife onto her thigh. “Whoever you called did a great job on the Jackal's business. Fuck, they took everything."

I smirk, smug as fuck about how fucking pissed the poser asshole is going to be about it all. "I met a guy, kind of a dick but he's come in handy. I might keep him as an informant, even if he is a Demon."

She scoffs. "Do I even want to know what the hell a Demon is? Isn't it bad enough that we have the Jackal and the Vulture roaming the streets of the Bay?"

I chuckle, checking my mirrors to make sure the bikers are keeping up with my tactical driving, and by tactical I mean swerving and running every fucking red light because I need to get to my girl right the fuck now.

"Chaos Demons, kid. Bikers from Indiana mostly, bad news. You see them, you turn and walk the fuck away. I don't need to be hunting you down in their fucking lair because one of them likes what you're selling."

She finishes up with the strapping and finally buckles the seatbelt over her tiny body. "I'm not selling anything. Guys aren't fucking worth the trouble."

Good.

Okay, that's a fucking weird thing to think. She's not actually my sister so it shouldn't bother me about her jumping into bikers’ beds but, fuck, nope. Don't like that idea at all.

Growing a conscience is fucking wild, man.

"Right. So stay away from them."

She scoffs at me as she looks out over the highway. "I stay away from all bikers, as much as I can anyway. I have to deal with the Unseen a fair bit but I don't make friends with them."

I don't think she makes friends with anyone.

Again, this shouldn't make me happy.

"You ever been to Nevada before kid? Maybe once we have Odie we can stop for burgers."

She shrugs. "I've never left the Bay."

That's fucking sad. I mean, I always come back here but I've traveled and done shit. Mostly for work but I've gone and eaten the food, seen the sights.

It's hard to remember she's only fourteen sometimes.

I expect her to fall asleep or demand the radio on or something but she doesn't. She just sits there, alert and assessing, the entire five-hour drive.

I can’t stand the silence for once because my mind is a fucking mess of rage and bloodlust. I want to rip them all apart, feel their bones snapping beneath my hands and under my boots as I just fucking destroy them all. My hands clench so hard on the steering wheel the leather creaks and protests.

“You need to fucking distract me, kid.”

She scoffs at me. “I’m not the chitchatting sort of girl, Illi, you know that.”

I smirk but there’s no real joy in it. “Fuck, the Bay hasn’t ever produced a chitchatting sort of girl but I need a distraction. Tell me about your last job. Tell me something… bloody. It might fucking help.”

She grimaces. “I just hacked someone's mom up for a job, does that count? He needed her gone, not just dead but like cut into pieces and spread through the Bay where animals could take care of it.”

Fuck.

Seriously?

She nods, again knowing what I’m thinking without me saying a goddamn word. “Yup. I didn’t ask questions about why he needed her dead but… I’d heard enough stories. She was fucking bad. Worse than my mom, worse than most.”

The Bay is notorious for pumping out generation after generation of kids without decent parents and no hope of stopping that vicious cycle. I didn’t know much about the kid’s mom, only that the Jackal took her out with a dirty batch of heroin.

She gives me a side-eye. “Yeah, I know you know about what Matteo did.”

Fuck.

“Giving a shit about this sort of thing is still kinda… new to me, so you’ll have to forgive me for not fucking stopping him.”

The kid nods and looks out the window at nothing. It’s silent again in the car for a second before she murmurs, “I guess I’m the worst sort of person because I’m… glad she’s gone. I could never have done it myself but I’m better off now.”

Better off now, even with D’Ardo playing his games and a whole list of bad shit she’s been forced to do? Fuck, her leg will never be the same.

“That just makes me feel worse. You said you had a plan though, right? I’m going to need to hear all about it once Odie is home safe. I’m doing whatever I need to to get you the fuck out.”

She nods again and shifts back to look out the window. “There’s a plan. It’s already underway, I’m going to be okay.”

That’s the fucking problem.

I want her better than okay. I want her out there in the world fucking thriving and forgetting that this place ever existed. I want her going to some college and meeting some smart guy and them running off somewhere and living happily ever fucking after.

I want her having the life we all should have had before the Bay got its claws into us and warped everything.

“Fuck, new topic. Teach me some French, kid. I’m going to have to learn it sometime, might as well kill some hours now.”

THE DRIVE IS hell but at least the kid keeps me in good company.

She’s quiet enough but when she comes out with those one-liners of hers… fuck, she’s smart. She sees more of the world than most and it shows as soon as she opens her mouth. She’s right, you know, she’s so much fucking older than the years she has on this fucking planet. Not that it makes what D’Ardo is doing any better. He’s still a sick fuck for wanting her, that’s for fucking sure.

But finally, five hours later, we find the address. A giant fucking fence surrounds the property and I’m about to ram the gate when Lips stops me, jumping out of the front seat and fucking around with the keypad. She’s a fucking tech wizz or something because after about three seconds it swings open.

I see the looks Harbin and Roxas share behind us.

I know they’re impressed by her but I need them to leave her the fuck alone, no dragging her into biker politics and definitely no getting her involved with the Boar and all of his shitty schemes. That old dirty biker is the fucking worst, betrayal in his blood, and I’m not letting any of it touch her.

The kid jumps back in the car and I gun it up the driveway, no interest in being discreet. They’re not expecting company, us being here is enough of a surprise and there isn’t going to be any fucking cavalry.

We pull up outside the building Odie is being kept in and I tear out of the car. Even if they did have serious firepower, I have Kevlar and enough weapons that I'm not fucking worried. The kid moves with a little more caution behind me but she doesn't call out to me or attempt to hold me back. She just follows me up to the doors of the fucking hellish mansion Odie is trapped in with a motherfucking rapist.

Solid as a fucking rock, she’s got my back.

I pause at the door, just long enough to stake my claim. “I have dibs on the buyer. No one in this house is left breathing."

Harbin steps up beside me, "Done. It's been a while since I got to make a rich man squeal. I've missed the sound, man.”

Roxas eyes the kid, taking in every inch of lead strapped to her body, and nods slowly, like he's impressed. Between that and the gate, I know he’s seeing her a little clearer now. "Wanna make it a little more fun, kid? Highest count buys the first round when we're done."

Fuck that.

I move forward, not ready to be making fun and fucking games of this shit until I have my girl back. The kid shuts him down hard but I’m too busy getting an eyeful of the door to make a comment.

The fucking giant thing is plated in steel and iron and yet, wouldn’t you know, the fucking thing is unlocked. Clearly they’re betting on the gates keeping people out.

I push it open and find three men, dressed in suits and strapped with guns waiting behind it.

The first guy frowns at us while the other two grab for their guns. The kid shoots them both, while I throw a cleaver at the guy stupid enough to try to talk to us. It hits him in the thigh taking him to the ground. I step up quickly to him, a boot to the shoulder knocking him all the way to the ground.

“What—”

“Where the fuck is the girl? Where the fuck have you taken her?” I snarl, and when he sputters back at me I press my boot into his throat, slowly crushing his windpipe.

I manage to calm the bloodthirsty rage in myself enough to stop before I actually kill him.

Dead men can’t talk.

“Answer the fucking question or I’ll kill you so bloody your ancestors will feel it.”

The guy coughs and hacks as I ease up. I hear more men walking in but their bodies hit the ground fast, Harbin and Roxas spreading out and beginning to clear the first floor. The kid stays with me, watching my back as I choke this fucker out.

“W-we rescued h-her.” He gurgles and I snap and stomp down, killing him as his neck snaps and then I lean over to yank the cleaver out of his thigh. Blood shoots out and sprays everywhere, his heart still spasming in his chest, and suddenly the place looks like something out of a horror movie.

“Dead men aren’t giving us directions,” the kid says, and I shrug back, stalking over to the staircase with her hot on my heels.

“Now we know for sure that she’s here and I’m not wasting time with that dickhead while some other cunt might be hurting her.”

I don’t say raping her… or killing her. It can’t fucking happen. Whatever it takes, I’m getting her right the fuck now. I take the stairs three at a time and palm one of my guns as the doors start to open on the second floor. I don’t need to worry about it though, the kid is a fucking good shot. I’m not expecting her to be, knives have always been more of her thing, but I know she got some lessons from O’Cronin just after she got inducted into the Twelve.

Diarmuid O’Cronin, the black sheep of that useless fucking family. He’s a total fucking dickhead, a cocky asshole, but he’s a sharpshooter like the Bay has never seen before and obviously a decent teacher. Two men collapse at the top of the stairs, bullets between their eyes, and their lifeless corpses come crashing down the steps. I kick one away and Lips stays close behind me so they don’t take out her legs.

We go through every fucking room on the second floor but every last one of them is empty. No men and no Odie, the rage pumping through my veins is like poison, burning me up to nothing but ash and pain. Where the fuck is she? Who the hell is she with?

As we work our way up to the third floor, Harbin and Roxas join us covered from head to toe in blood. The rooms up here are ever more spread out and still fucking empty. Fuck me, this place is a fucking maze. Maybe I should have kept the cunt at the door breathing a little longer, just to draw us a fucking map.

Finally, we hit a meeting room full of assholes in suits.

I take out four men with my cleavers, quick deaths because I'm not going to have fun with it right now. Not when she’s been here for hours already. Roxas starts yelling out numbers like an asshole and Harbin roars back at him to quit it. I zone them both out, just put them to the back of my mind as I move forward.

We clear the room and then move on. Fuck, we’re running out of fucking rooms and still she’s nowhere to be fucking seen.

Come on, baby girl. Where did they hide you?

I hear footsteps behind us but they’re wrong. Too heavy, more stomping than any man from the Bay would ever be so I turn, right as the kid does too. She’s faster than me and drops her gun, not taking the chance of hitting Roxas or Harbin with a stray bullet. She’s fucking smart, quick thinking, and grabs her knife at the last second. He’s on her right as she turns and, even though he’s three times the size of her, he’s no match. He’s dead with one swing of her arm, knife in his throat and a quick twist to just blow his entire fucking jugular out, and his friend catches her by the arm. He gets an arm around her throat and smirks at me.

She shifts her stance and I know she's about to throw him the fuck off of her but I'm not going to take a risk.

I yank the cleaver out of the blood-soaked corpse at my feet and throw it at him, watching as his eyes widen but I'm too fucking fast for him to react and it catches him firmly in the throat, the arterial blood soaking the kid's face and hair until she looks like something out of a horror movie.

"Fucking gross."

She sounds so fucking prissy, something I never fucking hear from her, and I think I'll tease the fuck out of her later about it.

We make it to the end of the hall, every room being fucking empty and this is the last fucking option. If she’s not in here then either there’s a basement or… I’m not fucking thinking about any of the other options. I grab the handle.

The door is fucking locked.

Blinding, fierce rage over takes me. She has to fucking be in here and some fucking piece of shit is with her, I can fucking feel it. I rear back to kick the door in until the wood splinters and just fucking flies away from my boot.

I charge into the room but only make it three steps in before I falter to a stop, the kid swearing behind me as she nearly slams into my back.

Odie is sitting on a bed, wearing only my shirt from days ago, covered in blood.

I'm too late.

CHAPTER SIX

Odie

I SPEND the day looking for a way out of the room, some hidden door or maybe something I can pick the lock with, but there’s nothing.

The bed is soft and lavish, but the rest of the room is very… barren. The floors are polished wood floorboard, none of them loose and no nails protruding. The bathroom only has a toilet and a bath, a single bar of soap the only thing available. Not even any towels.

I’d love to be able to get clean but there’s no way I’m taking Illi’s shirt off. There could be cameras or a peephole drilled into the wall somewhere.

Lord Devareux could come back at any moment.

He doesn’t though, even when my lunch is brought to me by one of the men he doesn’t appear. The man is someone different, someone who hadn’t been there to pick me up from the abandoned house, and he refuses to meet my eye.

I know for sure that my instincts are right and there’s no way I should eat or drink anything on the tray.

I pour the water down the plughole in the bathtub and I break the food apart to look as though I’ve eaten it. The bread is too fluffy for my liking anyway, I tell my stomach this as it begins to rumble with hunger. I don’t feel as much fear this time around, it’s as though those lessons le Loup had done with me gave me more than just skills. They’ve prepared me to think and act with a calmness that can only come from being prepared and I am prepared.

I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to get out of here without another man touching me.

I leave the tray by the door and climb onto the bed, pulling the knife out and testing the weight of it in my hand. It’s light enough that I can get a good swing with it and the blade is clean and sharp.

I doubt it’s ever been used, all of the men here feel… different to the men who have held me captive before. It’s clear they live a very different life than the cartel. They’re cleaner and none of them stare at me like they want to have me but... I still don't feel safe. They're not doing it to be respectful.

They're doing it because someone else owns me.

So instead of falling asleep I lay there and wait with my knife in my hand and I think about mon Monstre. For the first time since I was taken, I let myself think about the night we had before I was taken. His hands on my body, the care he took of me, and the way he looked at me like I was his next meal.

I'm not going to die before I get the chance to be his meal.

The sun has long set when I finally hear the footsteps and a key sliding into the lock. It's too late for one of the men to be coming to collect the tray of food, too late for anything other than checking I'm still here.

I hold my breath and keep my entire body deathly still, straining to listen to his movements because I don’t want to move my head to look at him and lose the tiny advantage I have with him thinking I’m asleep.

I should have thought it through a little better, prepared myself by curling up where I could see the door, but there’s no time to beat myself up over the mistake.

He steps in, only the rustling of his pants making a sound as his feet are silent on the plush carpet.

My breathing sounds so loud in my own ears when I finally take a breath but he doesn’t seem to notice, his approach to the bed never faltering. My hand tightens around the handle of the knife, the sheath already cast away ready for this moment.

Nervousness bubbles in my stomach and I push it down. I am not the scared girl I once was. I’m strong enough to do this and I now know that I have what it takes to get out of this bedroom alive… unharmed.

The mattress squeaks as it dips down with his weight and I close my eyes. I need to catch him unaware and to have the advantage of him being unprepared so I can’t risk him seeing my eyes open, even if the room is mostly dark. I hold back my flinch as he leans over me, propped up on one hand as he brushes the hair away from my face.

“Such a pretty little thing you are… too pretty for the thugs down in the Bay.”

A shiver of repulsion goes through me at the sound of his voice, one I’m unable to hide and my eyes snap open.

He flinches back in the dark, a chuckle bursting out of him. “I should have known you wouldn’t eat the food. Too bad, you couldn’t sleep through this.”

He drugged my food.

I’d guessed at it, I’d known not to eat it, but I feel vindicated and a little sick at hearing the proof.

Popping noises sound in the distance but I ignore them, my focus entirely on what is happening here because every second counts. Le Loup had taught me that even a split second of hesitation can be the difference between life and death and I will make it out of here alive tonight.

My stomach revolts but I swallow it down, swinging my arm up to bury the knife in his throat. He sees me at the last moment and knocks my arm off course, just enough that the knife barely nicks him.

“What do you think you’re doing? I’m here to help you.”

No, he’s here to own me. To paralyze me and play with my unwilling and unconscious body like the perverted man with a hero-complex he really is.

He grabs my wrist, his grip much stronger than mine but I’m prepared for the move and when he pushes my arm to the side I slam my forehead into the bridge of his nose. There’s a crunch and he roars in pain, the hot spray of his blood spattering over my face as it pours out from the broken mess of cartilage and bone. My eyes have white light bursts and I blink rapidly to ignore them and the pain radiating from the point of impact. I need to move fast.

I take advantage of his distraction and the easing of his grip as he rears back on one arm and I yank my hand out, swinging with all my strength until the knife is buried in his shoulder. I’m terrified of his men hearing and coming in to find out why he is screaming, so I pull the knife out again and swing at his flailing body again and again. My stomach revolts at the feel of the knife slicing through his flesh but my consciousness switches off, letting the adrenaline take over me and my mind empties out.

His gasping body falls away from me and onto the bed, his arms pinwheeling a little and catching me on the arm but I ignore the pain, sitting up onto my knees to stab him again, over and over, until the gurgling and wheezing sounds in his chest stop.

The popping noises sound again but the pain in my head is once again severe, what little relief I’d gotten from being unconscious back in the Jackal’s car once again gone. I wonder, in a detached and dazed sort of way, how permanent this damage is going to be and if I’ll always bear the damage of my abductions.

Finally, after I’m sure he’s no longer able to move, I stop stabbing him and with shaking arms I slit his throat just to be extra sure he’s dead.

His heart has clearly stopped because the blood doesn’t gush out, it’s more of a sluggish and slow bleed out.

My chest is heaving and my ears are ringing, everything seeming both loud and distant. How am I going to make it out of this room like this? I’ve seen at least two dozen men since arriving here, there’s no way I can use this tiny knife alone to get out of here.

I pat down Lord Devareux’s body but he’s unarmed, so confident in the drugs he’d attempted to give me that he doesn’t even have a weapon to use as protection… or maybe he never expected me to try anything. I shove his body off of the bed in disgust.

How many girls has he had here before? How many has he raped without their knowledge?

The popping sound is closer this time and then I jump at the ear-splitting sound of the door shattering away from the doorframe.

Mon Monstre is here for me, his face the picture of devastation.

MON MONSTRE STARES at me until I blink and then he's charging forward, scooping me into his arms and patting down my body with rough hands.

"Where are you bleeding, baby girl? Fuck, where, baby? Kid, grab me something to stop the bleeding!"

I notice Lips standing in the doorway as she steps forward out of a stupor and then darts around the room, grabbing up the man's discarded shirt, one I hadn’t noticed he lost, but she stops as she comes around the other side of the bed.

"Illi—"

"Gimme the fucking thing! Baby, tell me where the blood is coming from!" His hands are desperate.

I find my voice, rough as it is, "It's not my blood, mon Monstre."

He blinks at me, his hands still moving around, and Lips says, "Illi, the buyer is dead at my feet. Odie took care of it herself."

He blinks down at me again, then gently moves to hoist me into his arms properly so he can walk around and look at the body himself without letting me go.

I’m glad, I don’t ever want him to let me go.

"Well, fuck me. Baby girl, you did a fucking great job of it too," he murmurs into my hair and I preen at the compliment.

I did do a great job of it.

I did an amazing job of it, even with my concussion, and I tuck my face into his neck. "I'm very glad you and Lips taught me so well, mon Monstre, but I'm happy to leave the deaths to you from now on."

He rumbles under his breath in agreement, and then helps me to my feet. He strips his shirt off and I blush, glancing over at Lips but she doesn't seem worried by the move, then I see the vest he's wearing. A bulletproof vest that already shows signs of doing its job, I blink at it. I hope those bullets weren’t from tonight. I hope he hasn’t been forced to take them for me.

He takes it off and then helps me into it.

"I need you in the Kevlar, baby girl. We've taken care of everyone but I'd never fucking forgive myself if something else fucking happened. Again.”

I nod and move at his direction until I'm covered completely and the straps are secure, then he tucks me under his arm gently. He still has one arm free and access to his weapons but Lips takes the lead.

"There's a lot of blood, baby girl. A lot of death and gore. You can shut your eyes if you need to, I've got you." Illi murmurs to me as we leave the room.

I don't really care about the blood, I'm thankful every last one of these men are dead, but my head is still beyond painful and the lights and ornate lamps of the mansion are piercing and harsh. So I shut my eyes and I lean into the warmth and security of my Illi's arms.

There was never a doubt in my mind that he would find me.

We walk through the house, Illi murmuring as we get to the grand staircase but his grip on me is so sure that I can walk down it without having to look. I know by the cool floor beneath my feet that we're still in the foyer when we come to a halt.

"Fuck. Does she need a doc? I know one that's close by."

My eyes open and I tuck myself into Illi's side a little closer. I don't recognize the man who's talking at all but Illi and Lips don't seem worried. I take a slow and shaky breath.

"It's not her blood. Is that everyone? We need to deal with the building too."

Another man walks up, but I remember this one. He’s guarded me back at the apartment in the Bay for Illi while he worked. I try to smile at him but it comes out as more of a grimace. It doesn’t matter, he grins at me anyway and tips his head in a little bow. Lips snorts at him and shakes her head.

He quirks an eyebrow at her. "We took care of the other rooms. I definitely fucking wasted you in the bet kid. I only drink the finest fucking whiskey, top shelf shit."

That doesn't make any sense but Illi chuckles under his breath. "She had nine under her belt before we got through the front fucking door, man. She drinks Jack and so do I. Odie will have a whole fucking bottle of pinot, you owe her too."

He frowns and stares down at Lips. "What was your total? There's no fucking way you beat me."

She shrugs. “I don't give a fuck if you believe me, bikers are usually cheats and liars so I wasn't expecting you to pay up. Odie is safe, that's all I care about."

Illi squeezes my shoulders gently to push me more securely into his side, then he starts to move us again. It’s only now that I notice the piles and piles of dead bodies. The four of them… they’ve taken out dozens of armed men in their own territory.

They are incredible.

The floors are slick with blood beneath my feet and I refuse to think about what I’m stepping in. They were bad men. They worked with a rapist, nothing else could make up for that.

The front of the house still looks as beautiful as when I arrived, none of the carnage visible from here. The two men wait behind in the house but Lips stays close to us, her eyes assessing as they take me in. It doesn’t make me uncomfortable, it makes something in my chest squeeze at the care she’s showing me.

Illi loads me into the car, his hands cradling my head to keep it steady and to attempt to subdue the pain a little. It doesn’t work but I smile at him anyway, hoping he sees all of my love and gratitude there. I don’t have the strength to tell him it all yet, to tell him everything I had been planning to do while I laid there on the bed praying for him to find me.

I should have known he was leaving a trail of bodies in his wake as I planned my own escape and I did, but to see it… I am the luckiest woman alive, to have the love and loyalty of mon Monstre.

After he has my seatbelt buckled around me, Illi crouches next to me and strokes my face. “I’ll get you home, baby. Are you okay to make it there?”

I smile at him and murmur, “I have you. Everything is perfect.”

Le Loup gets into the car behind me and shuts the door gently, murmuring apologies to me as the movement pains me. Less than a minute later we’re back on the road, leaving behind the other men. I feel like I should ask about them but everything is hazy and swollen and painful. Everything except my hand in mon Monstre’s as he drives us away, back to the most dangerous city in the country. Our home.

My heart squeezes in my chest at the thought.

Our home.

I lose sense of time but it can’t be too long before I find out why the men stayed behind. I feel the explosion before I hear it, the ground rumbling and the car swerving on the road just a little as mon Monstre corrects it on instinct.

I startle forward in my seat, panicked and disoriented. Illi squeezes my hand and then drops it to rub my leg.

“Fuck, we should have warned you but I didn’t think they’d blow it up like that. It’s okay, baby girl. It's all part of the plan."

I glance back over my shoulder and find Lips staring out of the back window as well, the mushroom cloud of smoke and flames billowing into the sky.

The entire mansion has been blown up.

"Better to just destroy the evidence than attempt a clean up in another state. Luckily the buyer lived on land and there weren't any witnesses to have to deal with." Lips says, a little frown on her face as she looks at me.

"You need to either call Doc or take Odie in, that's definitely a concussion, Illi."

He grunts and threads his fingers through mine. "Don't go to sleep yet, baby. I know you're tired but just stay awake for me."

I let my eyes drift shut again but I nod. "It's okay, I don't want to sleep yet. I don't want to sleep until I'm back home and clean."

His fingers tighten in mine and then he brings my hand up to his mouth to kiss my palm. "Good girl. Do you want the radio on? Or silence? Tell me what you need."

I smile up at him and murmur, “I have everything I need right here, mon Monstre.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Illi

THE DRIVE back to the Bay is the worst sort of torture.

I want to get my girl home as fast as fucking possible but the thought of getting into a wreck right now with how fucking precious my cargo is, no fucking way.

So I slow down a little and grit my teeth through the whole fucking drive instead. It’s basically fucking torture.

My girl has taken too many hits to that pretty little head of hers and I’m fucking worried about the concussion.

Her eyes are shut as we drive but every time I squeeze her hand, she squeezes mine back so I know she’s awake. She’s fucking covered in blood, every inch of her stained red with spatters streaked across her face and her hair is matted with it.

She’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.

“I’m calling Doc to meet you back at the warehouse,” the kid murmurs from the backseat, and when I glance back at her she’s on her phone already.

She’s too fucking smart.

Odie smiles slowly. “Merci, le Loup.”

I frown. She doesn’t usually speak French around me but she knows the kid speaks it. Fuck. Is it a sign of something else being wrong or is she fine and just switching over for Lips?

I want to break something.

I sweep the tacky tendrils of hair away from her face and check her pulse, not that I’d fucking know if something was wrong but I feel like I have to do something.

Fuck that traitorous fuck D’Ardo for selling her across state lines so we still have another two hours left before we get back to the Bay.

Odie’s big blue eyes crack open a little and she murmurs soothingly under her breath at me. "Trying to fix me again, mon Monstre? I'm okay. I'm alive and everyone who matters to me is here."

The kid shifts like she’s uncomfortable with all the love seeping through my girl’s words. Odie just smiles and says, a little louder this time, ”I mean you as well, le Loup. You mean a lot to me too."

The shifting gets worse and I chuckle. "The kid struggles with affection. It's a classic Mounty kid thing, she'll get used to it eventually."

I glance in the rearview mirror in time to catch the kid rolling her eyes. "You mean a lot to me too, Odie. That asshole is alright as well, I guess, but he'd be better if he didn't run his mouth."

Odie’s smile widens, her teeth a stark white against all of the blood covering her hair and face. "You should come live with us too, le Loup. You should come and be safe with us."

My mouth quirks up on one side and I give her hand a little squeeze. Their friendship means so fucking much to me, to know that both of the girls I’d kill and die for care for each other this way is fucking perfect.

The kid fidgets a little and then says, "Actually... I'm heading to court next week for my emancipation. I got a scholarship to Hannaford Prep and I'm going there in a few months. I’m going to make it out of the slums of the Bay.”

My eyebrows damn near hit my hairline. "Hannaford? Fuck me, kid, you really are a fucking genius."

Odie looks over at me with a little frown and the grin I give her is a little crooked. "The place is a few hours away from the Bay, fucking ritzy as all hell. Full of senators’ kids and future presidents. I didn't even know they did a scholarship program."

The grin the kid has is so wide I see its reflection in the mirror. "They accept one kid a year. I'm it."

I want to stop the car and fucking hug her. The opportunity of going to a place like that, for an orphaned Mounty kid from the slums, she must have worked her ass off. It's fucking great news. Amazing that she's going to escape everything that has been done to her like this.

"Fuck me sideways, kid, that school has no fucking clue what it's in for."

She giggles, a sweet sound and something I don't think happens often. "Can you imagine though, my Mounty self walking through those halls. God, I could die laughing just thinking about it."

Her hands are still covered in blood, her clothes stained and spatters of it on her cheeks. I know for-fucking-sure no preparatory academy has ever had someone like her attend its prestigious halls.

"You're going to do amazing, le Loup. You're going to change your whole life by going there."

The smile falters just a little as she stares out of the windows. "That's the plan. Get out of here, hope the Jackal forgets about me, and then run off to the Caribbean to get rich where no one can find me."

Fuck.

I want that for her.

“Just make sure your place on the island is big enough for us to visit. No way you’re getting away without leaving us your address, kid.”

She smiles and shrugs. “You’ve got a lot on your plate for the next few years. You might just forget about the little slum lord who helped you out when shit went south.”

Odie winces as we hit a bump and I have to focus on her so I don’t yell at the kid for even fucking suggesting that bullshit. I can’t blame her, not really, because everyone she’s ever known has used her, let her down, abandoned her.

I’m not that guy.

I’m not my gutless excuse of a father.

I wait until Odie’s eyes are shut again and she’s settled back in her seat, not sleeping but resting for a minute, and then I peg the kid with a savage look in the mirror.

She tenses but her head tips back in defiance, strong and rock solid no matter what she’s facing.

“Listen here. This friendship of ours? It’s a ride or die situation. I had the same thing with D’Ardo but he fucking betrayed that. I know you won’t. You’re a good kid, a good friend, and I’m all fucking in. You need something? You call me. I’ll answer, no matter what and I’ll throw down for you even if you’re facing all of the fucking Bay. That’s how this is going to go.”

She blinks at me.

Then again.

Then she gives me the smallest of nods, like admitting she wants me as a friend kills her but it’s not about who I am. It’s about admitting she needs a fucking friend.

She desperately needs some fucking friends.

I can’t imagine that school giving her the type of people she needs on her side but, fuck, I hope she finds her people. People who understand what it means to be broken into pieces by the cards your life dealt you. People who know what it means to be ride or die, the real life-threatening sort, not just the words.

I shift my gaze away from her and she exhales, like she’s held her breath while I’d spoken, expecting the worst.

If that isn’t the most Mounty kid thing to do, I don’t fucking know what is.

I DROP Lips back at the group home before we head back to the apartment. When I mention all of the blood covering her she smirks at me with a shrug.

“They all know better than to nark on me for this shit. It happens a lot.”

Of course it does.

She is the Bay’s most famous assassin. The quiet and deadly type that slits your throat while you sleep.

We get back to the warehouse and it’s then I remember that I’ve done fucking nothing about the dead guys upstairs. The whole place is going to stink of rotting corpses because I didn’t even think to pay some other asshole to deal with them in my blood-soaked rage at losing Odie.

I take a deep breath before I open the car door but there’s no smell down here thank fuck. I get Odie out carefully, adjusting her in my arms until I’m sure she’s not only secure but that her head isn’t going to rattle around too much as I walk.

The apartment is spotless.

I stare around at it all like it's suddenly going to have the bodies appear but, nope, they're fucking gone.

What the fuck?

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I grab it, keeping one arm still firmly around my girl.

I couldn't have Odie coming home to that mess so I called in a favor. You're welcome.

A savage grin breaks over my face. That fucking kid, one in a fucking million.

"You can open your eyes, baby girl. It's all clean."

She murmurs under her breath, quiet and in that sexy fucking French of hers, and then she tucks herself in closer to my body. "I need a shower, mon Monstre."

I nod and get us moving towards the bathroom, leaving the lights all off as we move through so it doesn't hurt her head any more. The bathroom lights are way too harsh so I get her in and leave her to use the toilet while I turn the bedroom lights on and get us both some clothes.

I pick out her favorite sweater of mine, one that I used to wear during workouts on cold mornings but now I get to watch it hang from her sexy body, enveloping her in my scent and marking her clear as fucking day; the Butcher's woman.

I wait until I hear the flush and then I knock gently.

I don't know yet if D'Ardo fucking raped her. I don't know if he left her to his men for the night, I don't know who the fuck touched her, I don't fucking know anything yet about what happened to my girl so I'm back to square fucking one but now with a list that just fucking doubled overnight.

"Come in, mon Monstre. I need you."

Right.

I tell my dick she definitely means she needs help with the Kevlar and not with bending her over the bathroom countertop. Fuck, she has a concussion, I shouldn't be having to tell my dick any of this shit but she's my baby girl and fuck if I don't crave her every second of the day.

"I got you, baby. Lemme get this off of you." I murmur, careful not to touch her too much or anywhere that might have her flinching.

Once the Kevlar is off she winces at trying to get the shirt off so I cut the fucking thing from her. Everything is going in the incinerator anyway so there's no point hurting her to get it off. The panties are a quick job to get off and I thank every fucking deity I can think of that there's no blood on her thighs or any obvious signs of assault.

Doesn't mean it didn't happen, but my rage out might have been fucking biblical if I actually saw it.

"I wasn't raped, mon Monstre. I killed the only man that tried. Stop touching me like I'll break, I need you."

I nearly fucking crumple with relief but she fucking needs me, so I nod and get the water cranked up, making sure the temperature is right, and then I help her in. I keep my arms out where she can grab them if she gets unsteady again.

"Illi... is there something wrong? Did I... do something?"

Her tone fucking kills me. "No, baby girl. Never. Get yourself clean so I can get you tucked up in bed."

She frowns at me through her wet hair, the water still running red from all of the blood and gore. "Won't you join me, then? I want us both clean and... I need your arms wrapped around me. I need your skin against mine to chase away all of the bad that happened. Please."

I practically disintegrate my clothes getting them off in record fucking time. I move her gently around until she's held against my chest, my dick rock fucking solid and rubbing against her ass, but she's soft and pliant in my arms, no hesitation in her at all. Her eyes stay shut but the little purr that lets out of the back of her throat as she rubs her ass back on me… fuck, this is torture.

I get to work getting her clean, letting her just relax back on my chest and gentle sighs escaping from those perfect lips of hers. When I turn her around to wash her off she grabs her toothbrush and winces her way through cleaning her teeth. I cradle her head in my hands, stopping the motion from jerking her around too much and the tension eases out of her again.

"How do you always know what I need, mon Monstre?" she whispers when I get her back against my chest.

"Baby girl, I know every inch of your soul. I know every fucking inch of this body of yours as well but I could be tied to a fucking chair, blindfolded and deaf, and still know what my baby girl needs. It's my job to keep you safe... I failed that, I trusted someone I never fucking should have... that's not going to happen again. I'm getting you the fuck outta the Bay."

She frowns at me, tipping her head back gently until she can stare up at me with those baby blues of hers. "I don't want to leave. This is your home... it's our home."

I do one last pass over with the soap and then I get her out, wrapped in a big fluffy towel and perched on the closed toilet seat while I duck back into the shower and scrub down myself. I'm not going to bed with her with even a speck of blood on me.

She doesn't make any move to dry herself and that tells me just how fucking bad her head must be feeling. She's not one to wait around for me to do shit for her, she always cooks and cleans and paints and fucking dances around without ever impeding on me.

So I scrub a little harder and faster, eager to get her laying down as quickly as possible. When I turn to wash out the last of the blood from my hair I find her watching me, her eyes still with that glazed look but her bottom lip is between her teeth like I'm a fucking sight for those sore eyes of hers.

My dick just about bursts.

"Baby girl, you're way too fucking sore to be giving me those eyes... I wanna fucking eat you up when you do."

The smile she gives back to me has me growing ten fucking feet taller. She's just been through another fucking round of hell and yet she's all soft and looking at me like I hung the moon for her. I mean, I did. I hung all the fucking stars in the sky for this girl and I'd do it all over again just for her to keep smiling at me like that.

“I didn’t know you had a piercing. Mon Monstre, I want to touch you so badly.”

She bites her lip and then winces again, clutching at her head and moaning lowly. Her towel slips down and her skin is so fucking pale I’m getting twitchy. “My head is all… wrong. Sore and pounding, I feel sick.”

I dive out of the shower, not bothering with a towel, and grab the small trash can for her to vomit in. I don’t care about my floors at all but I know she’d get upset about the mess.

Time to call Doc.

Time to let him know that we’re going to be his top priority for the night, no matter who else calls on him because I’m going to start fucking carving people up if my girl needs me to.

She’s shaking and miserable when she finally stops, so I get her dry and dressed and back in our bed. Once she’s tucked up I dry off and make the call.

“I have appointments tonight.”

I grit my teeth. “The only appointment you need to worry about is the one I’m making right now. Name your price, my girl needs you right the fuck now.”

He clucks down the line at me as if he’s telling on a disobedient child and not the Butcher of the motherfucking Bay.

“It’s not about money, Mr. Illium. It’s about priority. Is she bleeding out? Does she have chest pain?”

I’ll kill the asshole. “Yes to both. She’s leaking everywhere, come now.”

He huffs and then finally says, “I’ll be there soon. Keep her awake, concussions are difficult to manage.”

I hang up and go to make her something to eat just so I have something to fucking do with my hands. Harbin sends me a text, a photo of the pile of rubble that was once Lord Devareux’s mansion.

Good fucking riddance.

I flick through the rest of my messages while Odie’s soup heats up. There’s a whole pile of shit from various members of the Unseen about the Jackal’s missing drugs. No one is happy the Chaos Demons have them but like I give a fuck about their opinions.

When I make it back to our bedroom, Odie is still laying where I left her and there’s a little frown over her brow that has me confident she hasn’t fallen asleep on me.

Thank fucking God.

“Here, baby girl. Have some food and water until the doc gets here to look you over.”

She mumbles softly in French again and, fuck do I need to get around to learning the language.

What if she’s saying something fucking important and I’m sitting here with my thumb up my ass doing nothing about it?

Fuck.

I need the fucking doc.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Odie

THE DOCTOR DOESN’T LOOK happy to see me at all and I don’t think it has anything to do with me having a head injury and everything to do with the scowling man sitting beside my bed.

“She will be fine. She needs rest, no TV or screens for a few weeks, and plenty of sleep. This is not life threatening, Butcher. I have men bleeding out thanks to this little courtesy call.”

That sounds serious but when I look over at mon Monstre he shrugs as if it’s nothing. “Odie comes first. Fuck everyone else, they know what the fuck they’re doing and if they get stabbed because they’re soft then fuck them. You want cash or are you sending me a bill?”

The doctor huffs as he packs his bag. “You are not funny. Cash always.”

When he moves towards the door I call out, wincing, “Merci, doctor. Am I able to sleep now?”

He turns back and gives me the same kind smile he’d given me when he’d checked me after my assault. He’s always so surly and grumpy to mon Monstre but warm and gentle with me.

“You can sleep. You need to get as much rest as you can, it will help your brain to heal faster. If you have any more symptoms you call me and make an appointment. I will come back here and do some tests but for now, you’re okay.”

I nod again and rest back into the pillows a little more, smiling when I feel mon Monstre brushing my hair back and stroking at my skin like he can’t stop touching me.

I feel the same way about his hands on me.

I need more, I need the warmth of his skin and the branding obsession of his touch.

He presses a kiss against my lips and then murmurs, “Rest up, baby girl. I’m not leaving you while you’re hurt.”

And then I remember nothing for twelve hours.

I wake up with the hard lines of his body pressed against mine, his arms firm but gentle as they cradle me into his body. He feels like safety, like home and all of the other things I had no reference for before he gave them to me.

The room is pitch black so I know it’s day time and the shutters over the windows are closed. I don’t want to move but my bladder is so over full that I have no choice.

I brush my teeth again in the bathroom because my mouth tastes like death, and when I walk quietly back to bed I find the lamp on and Illi sitting up, rubbing at his face like he can wipe away the sleep if only he rubs hard enough.

“You okay, baby girl? Does something hurt?”

My thighs clench together at the rough sound of his voice, the flexing of his arms like a spell luring me into his trap. Our life here is going to be perfect, just the moment we no longer have to worry about people trying to kill us both and destroying the perfect home we’ve built together.

Which reminds me, I can say something now my head isn’t quite so sore.

"I don't want to move. This place is my home.“

His hand drops away from his face and he frowns at me. “That’s what’s keeping you up? Baby girl, you need rest.”

I don’t want to rest anymore, my entire body feels as though it’s full of electricity. I’m jittering and wired, too awake now to be able to go back to sleep. I feel a little bit guilty because mon Monstre looks exhausted.

I don’t want to keep him awake but he motions for me to join him and I move instinctively, climbing back into the bed and moving until I’m curled back up into his chest.

He presses a kiss to the top of my head and murmurs into my hair, “I need you out of the Bay and away from all the fucking evil here. There's some mansions further up on the coast, big fucking things full of light and rooms for painting and security. I'll buy one and we can live there without anyone knowing where we are. I don't want D'Ardo showing up."

He sounds so final but I don't want to leave the only place that's ever felt like home to me. I don't want to leave the window with my sunrise, the kitchen where my bread proves so perfectly, or the gym where le Loup taught me how to take care of myself.

I don't want to lose my home. "Le Loup got extra security for us here, yes? You said there were more alarms and better systems, I feel safe here."

His jaw tenses. "No. I'm not losing you again over a house. We can make a new home somewhere else."

I shake my head and tears fill my eyes. “I don’t want to move, mon Monstre. I’ve never been able to have a home before. My father would move my mother and I all the time and so I never felt… settled or safe. This has been my first real home and I’m not ready to leave here yet.”

His chest rumbles under my ear but it’s not a particularly happy sound. “If we stay, I’m adding more security and we need to work on more defense shit for you. I need to know that if anyone tries to fuck with you that you know how to kill them. You did a good job on the last guy and I’m proud as fuck of you, but we need more options for you.”

I giggle softly. “Will you teach me? Le Loup was an excellent teacher but I’d like to know what you do too. She’s all about subtlety and using people's strengths against them… I know you work differently than that.”

He scoffs at me. “Yeah, a little different. The kid is fucking good at what she does, I’d only have the best teaching you. I’m not sure you want to know about the mechanics of carving a man to pieces.”

I turn over in his arms a little more until I’m laying over his chest more securely. My thigh brushes against his hard dick and he grunts at me, a rumbling sound of appreciation and lust.

“I think you’re underestimating me, mon Monstre. There is nothing I want more than to have that knowledge. How else will I carve their hearts out of their chests?”

He chuckles under his breath, cupping my chin gently and lifting my face up until he can capture my lips with his own. “I’m bringing you their hearts, baby girl. That’s my job as your man and just as soon as your head is healed up I’ll be working night and day to bring them to you. Nothing else matters to me right now. Just you and the hearts of the men that hurt you.”

I lean down and kiss him back, my tongue slipping into his mouth and tasting the words of adulation there. He means every word he’s saying, I can taste the truth.

“Where will we keep them when we’re done? Where would we keep such a thing without frightening our guests?”

Illi’s legs part as he pulls me further into his chest so I’m lying completely over him and resting between them. “Our only guests will be people who know the score. You think the kid is going to be worried about some hearts? I’m pretty sure she eats them for breakfast.”

I scoff at him and push at his chest. “Maybe I’ll start eating them for breakfast too. Maybe that’s where she gets her strength from. Speaking of breakfast, I think I’ll go make us some, mon Monstre.”

The easy and open look on his face disappears in an instant, replaced by a frown and a stern voice as he says, “You’re not getting a fucking thing, baby girl. You’re not leaving this goddamn bed.”

I sigh and roll away from him as he shifts to get up. “I’m feeling much better, mon Monstre, and making breakfast isn’t difficult.”

He nods and hikes up his pants as he straightens up. “I know it’s not, that’s why I can handle it. You’re not doing shit until the doc clears you so keep that perfect fucking ass of yours where it is. Let me take good care of you.”

I giggle at him and call out, “How is that any different to what I usually do? Mon Monstre, I’ll go insane if you force me to stay in here.”

He laughs, a sounds I want to hear so much more often, and says, “Baby girl, if you’re here in my bed, in love and of your own free will, you’re already fucking insane and fuck am I glad about it.”

WHEN I finally convince Illi to let me out of the bed and back into the rest of the house he only lets me so far as the couch. It’s frustrating because I want to get back into our usual rhythm, back to the life that was healing and loving and everything I’ve ever needed, but he won’t budge. When I make murmurings of baking some bread, because store bought is never as good as fresh bread straight from the oven and still hot, he has Harbin drop some off to us, straight from the bakery on the edges of downtown.

It’s so damn good I can’t find it in myself to argue.

Mon Monstre doesn’t go out for work, just as he promised. The furthest he goes is downstairs to the gym to workout and let off some steam. I can tell he’s frustrated and ready to hunt down his old friend, but his worry for me wins over.

It’s sweet.

Until it’s not.

“I can paint, mon Monstre. The doctor didn’t say anything about me staying away from canvases and oil paints.” The tone of my voice is colored with my own frustration but he doesn’t move an inch from where he’s standing over me in the living area. I haven’t gotten out my paints yet but there’s a canvas in front of me and I’m using a pencil to stencil on the outline of something… new. Cathartic. Terrifying to put into words but to bleed it out in oils right now, that is something I must do.

“He said to rest. This isn’t resting, it’s working for hours all night and forgetting to eat and drink some fucking water. No. Go back to bed before I tan your ass, baby girl.”

My spine snaps straight. Tan my ass? As in a spanking?

Why does that sound so good?

A slow and lecherous smirk stretches across his lips, and he drawls out, all honeyed seduction but with the undercurrent of whiskey because he’s a real man, “Baby girl, you don’t have to risk that perfect head of yours to get a spanking. I’ll put you over my knee any day of the fucking week if you’re a good girl. I might even let you suck me off too.”

I gulp. Not in terror but because I so desperately want that. The branding heat of his palm, the weight of his cock in my mouth, I want that right now.

My healing time is over. The blood I spilled and the lives I took for daring to touch me, all of them were a trial by fire. I walked through the flames and came out stronger.

I’ve never felt more powerful, more in control, more desperate for a man to own every fiber of my being because I own him just as wholly.

He bites his lip and I nearly slide off the couch right then to beg him.

Beg him to give me everything I’ve ever wanted and needed.

The alarm starts to sound through the apartment, shrill and earsplitting, and I clutch at my head as the deafening sound makes my brain scream.

“Fuck. Get into the bedroom, baby girl. Grab your gun and wait for me to tell you everything is clear.”

I nod, my palms pressing into my temples to try to lessen the pressure of the pounding there as I follow his instructions. By the time I have the door shut behind me he’s got the alarm shut off and I wait to hear the sounds of a fight.

There’s nothing.

No gunshots, no sounds of a fight, nothing.

I crouch on the ground on the other side of the bed where I’ll be harder to spot if someone actually makes it past Illi and in here, my gun in my hand and aimed at the door, ready to fire the second I need to.

My arms quiver a little, not because I’m scared but because the alarm has made my headache return. My stomach roils at the pain, bile creeping up the back of my throat but I swallow it back down as best as I can. It only takes a few minutes before I hear Illi call out.

“Everything is fine, baby girl. It’s just Roxas’s bitch ass needing some fucking stitches.”

I blink then lower the gun, scrambling to the bathroom to vomit. I brush my teeth afterwards, wincing at the sight of my reflection. I look like a mess, sweaty and pale, and I find some of the little pills Illi had given to me earlier on in my recovery.

When I finally emerge from our bedroom for a second I think I was mistaken and mon Monstre hadn’t called out to me, because there is blood everywhere.

The apartment door is flung open and a trail of blood leads over to the table where Roxas sits with a large bottle of whiskey in his hand as Illi crouches over him.

I slink slowly into the room, careful to step over the thick pools of deep red, and come up to watch as Illi does indeed stitch his friend’s wounds back together.

I had no idea he knew how to do these things.

“Can you pass me the iodine, baby girl? He’s going to get a fucking infection and lose his arm without it.”

Roxas chuckles under his breath, and when I step closer I see the huge flap of skin and flesh that’s been sliced open and very nearly off of his arm.

It doesn’t scare me at all.

In fact, I can’t keep my eyes away from the sight of the neat little black stitches that are slowly lining up as Illi works on the patch up. Roxas doesn’t wince or make a sound, he just sits there drinking his whiskey and telling the story of what happened tonight to get him these wounds.

“Motherfucking Demons. We’ve got spies everywhere, man. Fuck knows who they are but there’s gotta be some on the Council. None of the lower members knew about tonight's pick up. We were real fucking careful about it too, after the last one. So I’m standing there, my dick in my fucking hand, waiting for the pick up and out of nowhere there’s scum Chaos Demons coming at us and I’m caught out.”

Illi grunts under his breath. “Where the fuck was Harbin? I didn’t know you guys did jobs without each other.”

Roxas sighs and stares up at the ceiling. “Problems with his baby mama. Her new man is a dealer and now she’s a tweaker.”

Oh.

He has kids?

Mon Monstre looks just as shocked as I feel but he doesn’t look away from his work. “Since when has he had a kid?”

Roxas huffs. “She was a stripper we both fucked. She stuck pins in the condoms and it was a gamble which one of us ended up tied to the cunt. Harbin lost and now he has twin boys. I keep telling him to take them and keep them at the club but he doesn’t want his kids growing up without a mom. That shit fucks you up but now she’s found some other way to fuck the kids up anyway.”

That sounds terrible and an awful lot like le Loup’s upbringing. I know mon Monstre is thinking the same thing at the tightness of his jaw. He doesn’t care enough about other people for his anger to be about the woman. No, it’ll be the thought of the little le Loup, the one who desperately needed a mother and yet she had a woman too addicted to function.

Roxas swallows another big gulp of the whiskey and continues, “The boys are nearly eleven, too old not to know what the fuck is going on with her. Time to get them the fuck out and deal with that fucking cunt.”

Definitely no love lost there.

“Better him than some crackhead or a fucking gang. Angry boys are the Jackal’s specialty, he likes to recruit them young and reckless. If they’re in the Bay they’re fair game to him, even with their daddy belonging to the Boar. That shit means nothing to the Twelve.” Illi says as he does the last stitch, cutting the thread and then he pours the bottle of iodine over the entire thing. I cringe for Roxas but he barely blinks.

When it’s finally done Illi claps him on the back, dangerously close to the wound but neither of them notice that. Roxas nods at him in thanks and then shoves a shirt back on and then shrugs into his leather vest carefully.

“Thanks, man. I was too far away from the clubhouse and I didn’t want to interrupt Harbin right now. I owe you one.”

Illi moves to the sink and washes his hands, blood coating them so thickly it takes two tries with the soap for the water to run clear again. “No worries. You had my back I’ve got yours. No matter what happens with the Demons.”

Roxas smirks. “We both know it’s heading for war. Only a matter of time.”

War?

That doesn’t sound good.

CHAPTER NINE

Illi

AFTER ROXAS LEAVES I usher Odie back into the bathroom for a shower. She looks fucking pale and I need her out of the living room for long enough to get the blood and gore that Roxas stomped in everywhere cleaned up.

I know my girl isn’t horrified by it all but I still don’t want that shit around her, not unless it’s blood I’ve spilled for her. Her face when she came out of the bathroom and saw Roxas out here bleeding wasn’t fucking good and I nearly stabbed him just for freaking her out like that.

The asshole knew it too.

Once I’ve cleaned everything, I take out the trash and reset all of the alarms. I’m fucking relieved they worked perfectly and now I just need my girl to have her gun a little closer at all times. The fact she had to duck into our bedroom is precious minutes she’s wasted and if she were here alone that could be the difference.

Fuck, now I don’t ever want to leave her again.

I need to convince her that staying here isn’t the right thing to do. Hearing about the fucked up life her parents gave her made me want to fly the fuck to France right now and get her their hearts now but that’s not the plan.

No.

I need a few hearts closer to home first.

Once I’m back in the apartment I take a second to look around. It looks as though nothing had happened but it also still feels… wrong. It doesn’t feel like the same haven it once was. I bought this place and I made it my own. I paid for everything with blood and terror but it never felt like that to me. Sure my workspace is in the basement, but up here in the apartment was always my own space.

D’Ardo fucking shit all over it for me.

I need to take the space back, just until I can convince Odie that one of those big mansions up on the coast would be better. Fuck, it would be closer to the kid up there while she’s up at that big, old school of hers.

So I take matters into my own hands and by the time my girl gets out of the shower, I’ve set our mattress back up in the living room in front of her favorite window again.

That night is carved into my cold, dead heart.

I get a feeling this one might be too because when my girl steps back out into the living room with me, all I can think is that the end of the world looks better from here. Better now I have her.

“I was trying to escape the bed by coming out here so you’ve just brought the bed to me.” she says, those hips of hers cocking and a fist propping up on the swell as she sighs at me.

She could bring a man to his fucking knees with those hips. I step up behind her and wrap my arms around her hips. “It’s the best of both worlds, baby girl. What more could you want than your view and our bed? See, your man can compromise.”

She hums under her breath, nodding slowly and then steps towards it, giving me a view of that ass of hers peeking out from under one of my sweatshirts. I'm distracted by it, too busy fantasizing about ramming my cock into her from behind and slapping that perfect ass, so I don't notice as she begins to strip it off. It falls away from her body, leaving behind only those red lace panties she nearly fucking killed me with the night we went on our date. I think about praying to a being I don’t believe in, God fucking save me.

"Baby girl—"

"You want me to be happy, don't you, mon Monstre? That’s the reason for compromise? Well, I'm not happy. I'm empty and I need you to fill me up."

It takes all my control not to nut myself. "I'm not in a rush, baby girl."

She turns so I get a view of her tits, fuck me, and I have to fight my urge to just fucking jump on her. "If you don't fuck me, mon Monstre, I'll have to take care of myself. Are you going to leave me to do that? I need you, I need your tongue and your hands. I need—"

I don't hear another fucking thing that she needs because I swallow the words, charging at her too fucking fast and probably scaring the fuck out of her but her words shred the last bonds of my control inside of me so I'm a feral fucking beast. I have to remind myself about the concussion and I try not to knock her around too much as I hike her up into my arms, her thighs wrapping around my body.

Exactly where they should always be.

She sighs into the kiss and, fuck yes, that's what I need. "Say no, baby girl, anytime. You know that."

She nods. "I do but I don't want to say no. Mon Monstre, you know that I want you, that I need you. You really want me to beg don't you?"

She pulls away and—

Fuck me, she drops to her fucking knees.

Her hands touch the front of my jeans and, yup, I'm going to fucking embarrass myself here.

I grab a fistful of her hair, tugging her head back as gently as I can manage so I can stare down at her. "You want to taste my cock, baby? You want me to feed it to you?”

Pupils blown out wide.

Lids dropping.

Fuck yes, she wants it.

"Please, mon Monstre. Please give it to me. Please fuck my face and come in my mouth, I want to taste everything you have to give me."

I unzip my jeans for her with my free hand, the other one still fisting her hair, and when I pull my cock out she moans a little under her breath as she stares at me. Then her tongue comes out of her mouth, opening up wide and ready for me to ease between her lips.

She was fucking made for me.

I push into her mouth and groan as she sucks me in deep, that tongue of hers lapping and sucking at me like I’m the greatest treat she’s ever been offered. I use her hair to direct her, pulling and guiding her gently, pissed about the concussion because there’s nothing I want more than to choke her out with my cock in her throat. She trusts me enough to know whatever pain I give her is only going to be the best kind, the type that has her legs shaking and her heart pumping and every thought in her head is only about me and what I’m doing to her.

So I force myself to hold back enough to not hurt her, groaning at the fucking great job she does at swallowing me up like a good girl.

It would be too fucking easy to come like this, straight down her throat and into her belly where all of my come belongs from this moment until I leave this earth, so I pull back and get her down onto the mattress. I need her head to be supported and not flung around too much.

Well, as much as I can manage.

I pull down her panties and get a good look at that perfect pussy of hers, dripping and ready for me to fill right up until she’s full and screaming my name.

Her eyes flare wide and, fuck, there it is. There’s the fucking fire that captured me and burned her name into my chest from the moment I laid eyes on her. “I know what I can take, fuck me like you want to. Fuck me like I deserve to be fucked because I’m done waiting for this.”

I wait until she gets back onto the mattress, her legs parted and the pussy so wet I can see it slick and waiting for me.

Fuck, I want to taste her again but if I don’t get my dick inside her now I might fucking die. It’s been too long since I last felt that hot, wet heat around me and I know for sure I’ve never felt anything as perfect as my girl will be.

I move to grab a condom, sliding it down the length of me, and watching as her lips plump into a pout. I shake my head at her. “No babies until I’ve given you all the hearts of all of the men who’ve wronged you, baby. Nothing I want more than to fill you up with my come but now’s not the time.”

She nods, her cheeks flushed but the pout is still there on those red and abused lips of hers. I lean down to suck one of them into my mouth, tugging at it with my teeth. “Don’t be impatient, baby. I’ll give it to you soon.”

When I lean back, her pupils are blown out and she bites down on her lip in the same spot I’d just clamped down on.

Then I hike her legs up and over my shoulders, lining up and pushing into her in one quick thrust, loving the gasped sound of my name on her lips and the clenching of the perfectly wet pussy around me.

Fucking made for me.

I move my hips to thrust into her, deep and sure, the grunts deep in my chest ripping out of my throat at just how fucking perfect she is for me. Taking every inch of my hard cock, writhing under my body, whispering in French but her tone tells me she’s begging for more. I lean back and slip a hand down to rub her clit with my thumb, rolling and rubbing until she’s sobbing underneath me and her pussy tightens around me like a vise.

When she comes back down from her high, I shift so her legs are off of my shoulders and I can lean back over her body fully, cupping her face to keep her head from moving. Then I really fucking go for it, my hips moving like pistons and slamming my cock into her as I chase my own release. I grind my hips into hers as I come, triggering another orgasm for her as she screams my name in the darkness of our apartment.

I kiss her through the shaking that takes over her body, slow and deep and with every fucking inch of my love for her. I don’t want this to bring up some of her freshly healed trauma for her so I cradle her carefully, lovingly, as she comes down. I need to tie the condom off before it makes a mess but I stay put until her eyes open, staring up at me like I’m her god.

Makes me feel ten feet tall.

I press one last kiss to her lips and then say, “Gimme five minutes, baby girl. It’s been a while and I need a do-over. This wasn’t my best.”

Her eyes widen and then a giggle bursts out of her mouth as I roll away. “Mon Monstre, if it gets better than this I may die. I’ve never… it wasn’t—”

I stand and deal with the condom, cutting her off. “If you breathe a single word about your dip shit ex right now I’m booking a flight to France to skin him alive. Don’t do that to shit to me.”

She giggles and stretches out. “I was going to say, I didn’t know it could feel like that. Nothing else compares. How could it possibly get better?”

I smirk.

Then I spend the rest of the night showing her just how fucking good it can get.

I WANT to stay home with Odie for another night but she convinces me she’s fine.

“If I can make love to you without dying I can sit on the sofa and draw.” She says when I pause as I put my leather jacket on, questioning myself again about if this is the right thing to do.

I’ll admit, I’m getting fucking twitchy about being stuck indoors. I have no fucking clue how she does it, I need fresh air and… blood. I need to spill some blood and I really fucking want it to be blood spilled for her.

“Keep your ass on that couch and don’t even think about starting a painting yet. Be a good girl for your man and I’ll eat that pussy up when I get home.” I say and I watch as her head tips back and she exposes her throat to me like an offering. I know her pupils will be blown out wide, her pussy getting wet at my words, and every fucking part of her soul pining for my touch.

Fuck, I’m tempted to stay home again but I blow her a kiss and shut the apartment door behind me, arming the alarm and triple checking the connection to my phone is working. I check the security cams as she shifts on the sofa, her hips arching up a little like she’s trying to find some friction.

Fuck.

I need to get out before I stomp back in there and fuck her raw on the floor like a fucking beast.

Each step away gets easier until I’m in my Mustang and lighting up a cigarette, the taste of nicotine on my tongue helping a little with my withdrawals from my girl.

I feel no shame in my addiction to her, only in the fact I let my loyalty to D’Ardo almost get her abused and killed all over again.

I drive over to the biker bar and park up next to Harbin’s hog. Roxas’s is missing.

I huff under my breath at the thought of how fucking close he came to losing his head to a Demon. It feels fucking strange to have been helped by Colt only a few days ago and now we’re back to hating every last one of the Demon scum.

Except maybe him.

I can’t forget something like helping my girl out but Harbin and Roxas have both had my back for years, even when I was too caught up in D’Ardo’s bullshit to see the loyalty they were both offering to me. The fact that they’re tied to the Boar… well, that’s just another complication.

It’s a fucking mess, the whole damn thing.

When I step into the bar there’s the usual faces there, no one out of the ordinary and for fucking sure none of them are the Jackal’s men. The owner of the place, an old biker from way before the Boar took over the Unseen, raises his beer at me in a salute as I walk in. He’d know all about what D’Ardo did and there’s no way he’ll disrespect me like that.

Bikers respect blood.

Being tied by it or spilling it, and fuck have I spilled a lot of it in my time.

I find Harbin in our usual booth and he’s already fairly fucking hammered. A bartender brings over another glass for me and I fill it to the rim with the whiskey. There’s not a word shared between us as we sit there and race each other to the bottom of our glasses. Only when his is empty does Harbin speak.

“Roxas told you about my boys, then? Now I’m raising them around the fucking Boar and there’s not much more I’d rather do less than that. Gutless fuck.”

I nod and pour us both more. “I get that. You’re stuck between a rock and the fucking patch on your chest, that shit isn’t good. What are you going to do about it?”

He grumbles under his breath, pissed off and ready to fight about it. Problem is I’m not in the mood for it. Not at fucking all.

“I was going to move on, find another charter, but this place is my home. There’s eyes around here to keep watch over my boys and there’s no way I’m going to be run out by the fucking Boar.” He spits his Prez’s name out like it’s a dirty taste in his mouth because it for-fucking-sure is.

I light up two cigarettes and hand one over to him. This feels like I’m trying to defuse a bomb but the worst that’ll happen is Harbin going back to the MC and gutting the Boar in his sleep so no skin off of my nose.

The door swings open again and in walks Roxas, looking a helluva lot more alive than the last time I saw him. Harbin glances over his shoulder and huffs out a breath. “Oh look, he’s still fucking alive. This bullshit over my boys is putting fucking everyone at risk. What’s your plans now? Let’s fucking forget mine, leave them at the bottom of the fucking bottle.”

Well, my problems are a little more coherent than his. I wait until Roxas joins us and then I pull the torn page out of my pocket and smooth it out onto the table in front of us all.

I made a list.

An honest to fucking God numbered list on a page torn out of one of Odie's sketchbooks the night I got her home. It starts with her first buyer, her would-be husband, then I work through Alcatron and the men who raped her. Those ones fucking kill me to leave for a minute but killing Mecedo will lead me to them.

Then there's her parents and the ex-boyfriend. A little trip to France is in order there but I think that will be healing for my girl. Maybe we can sightsee or some shit, make it a holiday as well as a hunting trip.

Then I'm taking out the Vulture. I need the auctions gone from the Bay.

I know that evil men will always find a way to find and abuse women and children. I'm not so naive to think that killing him will stop it but it's a fucking start. It'll make it harder for them and that's all I can do right now.

Then there's D'Ardo.

Killing him should be first on my list and in a perfect world it would be, but the traitorous little fuck has dug himself deep into the underworld of the Bay. Deep enough that I can't just kill him, not without knowing what the fuck to do about the bomb and his allies. The Bear and the Ox are both pretty fucking close to them and their own little gangs aren’t so fucking little.

Then there's the kid.

I need to be sure that whatever I do here doesn't get her killed. He’ll have eyes on her up at that school, I know this for fucking sure, and it's not as easy as just killing them off. He'll always just send more in.

I need both of my girls safe. The woman I love and the kid who might just be the closest thing to blood I'll ever have.

So D'Ardo goes on the bottom of the list. I'll keep an eye on him, close enough that I know the second he tries any of his bullshit on me or mine again, but I'll have to be patient. Even if it kills me.

Harbin reads through it and nods, tapping on D’Ardo’s name at the bottom and says, "You want him dead right? You want to be the one to kill him? Don’t tell me you’re letting him go out of some bullshit friendship he pissed all over when he betrayed you.“

I nod. "He's dead by my hand or the kid's. No one else deserves it, except Odie but I'm not letting him near her."

Harbin nods. "Yeah, the sick fuck should be bled out by the little Wolf. I wouldn't mind being around to see it though, she's fucking good at what she does."

Roxas grunts and orders another round. “I wasn't expecting that much from her. I kind of thought the Jackal was behind half her kills. What pint-sized fucking kid can do the shit she can? She didn't hesitate once when we got your girl back."

I shrug. "You weren't born and raised here. Mounties are bred different, there's something in the water here."

Roxas shrugs and grabs the list, rereading the whole thing to himself again. “So what’s the plan to get Alcatron? How the fuck are you going to find him now when you couldn’t before?”

I smirk at him, gesturing to the bartender for another bottle because this one is done for. “I’m the Butcher of the Bay. There’s enough people out there who want to be on my good side for giving me the information I want and nothing will get them there faster than helping with this shit.”

Harbin grimaces and raises his glass in a mock salute. “Well, let’s get them fucking dead then shall we, boys?”

CHAPTER TEN

Odie

MY BODY HOLDS ACHES and twinges everywhere but I’ve never felt so happy, so at peace, as I do now.

Johnny Illium is a sex god.

I knew he was a man of war, a man who spills blood and wreaks vengeance, but I never thought he’d be able to toe the line between violence and pleasure like that. To be honest, I had never even thought such a thing existed.

I had felt the pent up energy in him, the need for things that I can not offer him, so I pushed him to leave me for the night, even though I’m feeling a little unsure of how to feel about being here alone once more.

Will I be scared? Jumping at any little noise?

I don’t. I feel an easing in my chest the moment he begins to get ready to go out for the night, like having him here is a crutch that I don’t need. It’s not that I don’t love him, I do more than I’ve ever loved before, but the apartment is more to me than just his presence.

It’s my solace, my quiet and safe space. My sunrises and the smell of my bread baking. It’s the text messages from mon Monstre while he’s out working to let me know he’s safe and thinking of me. It’s everything that is right in my world and there’s no way I can leave here. Not right now.

My head still hurts if I try to turn the TV on or look at my phone. He tries to talk me into staying in bed while he is gone but frustration begins to climb up my spine at laying down for so long.

So I go searching for my paints.

I might be once again damaged by the things that have been done to me but I'm not broken. I'm not that hollow shell of a girl I was the first time I arrived at the apartment. I get to watch the sunset out of the large window again before Illi goes out for the night. I sit on the small rug with a cup of coffee clutched in my hands and right before he leaves mon Monstre joins me, sitting behind me and pulling me back so I'm tucked up on his chest.

"I'm okay, mon Monstre. I'm alive and I'm happy.” I murmur, and he grunts under his breath at me.

"Baby girl, you're the strongest woman I've ever met. I've never been prouder than when I saw what you did to that rapist cunt. I'm not worried about your mind, I'm worried about your concussion. I can't have you in pain, baby. I start thinking about bleeding the whole fucking Bay dry for you when I see you wincing. I shouldn’t have been so rough with you but I can’t fucking regret it.“

I chuckle, softly so I don't do exactly that. "I'm going to paint today. I'm going to spend the entire night here doing what I love while you work. Nothing would make me happier than having you last night and then spending my day doing this."

His chest rumbles, the noise entirely satisfied, and he kisses my shoulder. "Take the day, baby girl. Take as long as you need to rest up. Paint me something."

When he finally leaves, his leather jacket tucked over his weapons but in no way hiding them from the world, I finish my cup as the sky finally changes from the beautiful pinks and oranges and into the inky darkness of the night.

I could paint that for him.

I could paint our reunion sky, the one that means so much to us both, but that feels... futile. Silly, and unproductive.

I know what I should paint, I know what would help us both the most, but can I be brave enough to do it? Could I paint the faces ingrained into my soul, give them life again on my canvas? Would bleeding myself out in the oils help rid myself of their stain or would I send myself spiraling, down so deep even mon Monstre couldn't find me?

I'm brave now.

I'm not broken and I won't be frightened by the memories of men who are already dead, their foreheads marked with targets they cannot see but must know somewhere in their souls that the Butcher is coming for them.

I find the biggest canvas in my supplies. I'd planned for it to be a portrait of mon Monstre and myself, something to hang in our bedroom as a testament to us but this feels important. I cannot be the smiling beauty on the arm of her man with this stain. I must purge it from me and be done with that part of my life.

Their deaths might be the last act Illi needs but me? I need to paint it out.

I may burn this canvas when I'm done.

I start to squeeze out oils onto my palette, mixing and fussing with them until the colors are right. I don't know if I take hours or minutes but it feels as though I'm putting it off. Playing with this instead of the real work that needs to be done.

Finally, I grab a pencil and start to sketch the outlines out. I start on Javier, one of Alcatron’s men. He'd visited me only twice, both times bragging that he'd won me in a bet. He'd been rough with me, pinching and slapping, but he was the least painful and the least sadistic of the men.

Once the outlines are good enough I take a break, drinking some water with shaking hands. I check the clock and my phone but there’s still hours until mon Monstre is due home. I could continue with it. I eat a little bit of bread and cheese, staring at the pencil lines like maybe they will fill in and the man himself will step out of the painting. Can I handle the oils being added? Am I strong enough?

Maybe I’m not, but I want to be.

I step back up to the canvas with a deep breath and dip my brush into the first color. I stare at it for too long but as soon as I lift it, it’s as though my inner switches off and the memory takes over me. I’m not scared but I feel possessed.

I add the paint, layer after layer. Building the textures and the colors until the man staring back at me could jump off of the canvas and attack me all over again with how perfect the likeness is. I try not to think about him, to just paint what I see in my mind but it's impossible. I have to think about every single touch, every insult, every degradation. I have to think of it all to get him out and on the canvas.

I don't notice the passing of time. It's only when I'm finished and look away from my work, blinking owlishly and attempting to remember where I am, that I find Illi on the couch watching me.

He's already showered for the night, the sweatpants low on his hips and the tattoos on his chest splayed out proudly even as he scowls over at me. No, not at me. At my work.

"Is that Alcatron?" He says, his voice dark and laced with violence.

I shake my head. "It's Javier. One of the other men."

He nods and rubs his chin, the frown still deep over his eyes. "Can you tell me about him? Tell me everything the painting doesn't. I need to know exactly what he was responsible for."

I wipe my hands off on the cleaning rag and then join him on the couch. "I can talk about it. Are you sure you want to hear it though?"

His jaw tightens and he gives me a curt nod. "I need to know he's dying the way his crimes deserve him to."

I take his hand gently in mine, threading our fingers together and rubbing the scars on his knuckle with my thumb.

Then I take a deep breath and tell him everything.

Every last second of my time with Alcatron.

When I’m done he kisses me deep and possessively, carrying me to bed even though I’m covered in paints. He doesn’t care about the mess, only that I’m here with him and pouring my trauma out for him to bear witness to.

I wake the next morning lighter.

Like purging him from my soul actually lessened the load he was weighing me down with. The smile on my lips is a relief. I’m not broken, I’m not what they did to me. I can heal and I can love again. I can paint out the horror and tell everything to that man who loves me and nothing about our relationship is broken by it. I can make love and take every inch of pleasure and pain from my beloved and enjoy it fully.

I might not be whole, but someday I might be.

MY SLEEP IS STILL NOT BACK to being fully restful, the demons still coming out to play with me at night. Mon Monstre is far too attuned to me, so there’s no chance of me sneaking out of bed to leave him alone to rest by himself. Instead he holds me, tells me stories of his life before we met and his plans for our future together.

After a week of these early wake ups, I decide to do something about it.

I can’t take some sort of medication, something to take the edge off, because of my concussion but I can get up and do something productive.

I slip out of the bed the moment my eyes open and I have a shower, washing my hair and brushing my teeth until I’m as clean and presentable as I can possibly manage without makeup, a hairdryer, or clothes that aren’t sweatpants and sweatshirts.

When I leave the bathroom, Illi is sitting up in the bed with his phone. He has that frown on his face that means he’s doing work, negotiating with someone over a job or checking for any new information. I don’t know how much work he’s doing that isn’t the list he’s made for me and my vengeance. I don’t ask him these things, I only listen when he has things he needs to talk about. It doesn’t feel like the way my parents had interacted, or the way Louis kept secrets from me during our secret trysts. I know if I ever wanted to know something about his life or his work, he’d tell me. No matter what it was, he’d tell me. Our bond is unbreakable, full or respect and trust, and most of all I know that his love for me would move mountains. My love for him would do the same.

There’s some things I just don’t need to know.

He doesn’t want to put anything else on my plate and I want all of my focus on my recovery. I want to be whole and well for him. I want him to wake up every morning and to be in love with the woman I am.

He loved me at my worst and most broken.

I want to give him my best.

He glances over at where I’m paused in the doorway of the bathroom and his lips quirk upwards. “What’s going on in that brain of yours, baby girl? It’s early to be up and ready for painting, isn’t it?”

I smile and tug at the sweatshirt, plucking it away from my body. “I think I need women's clothing. I need to feel normal again. Do you think we could go try some on today? If you’re not busy.“

Mon Monstre nods and climbs out of the bed, walking over to cup my face in his hands and kissing me gently. “I’m never too busy for you, baby girl. You know that. Lemme grab a shower and then we can head out.”

I smile sweetly at him, and then kiss him once more gently. Half an hour later I have breakfast cooked while he pours me a coffee, taking it over to the table and setting us up to eat together. Once I have the eggs piled onto the toast he takes both of the plates to carry them over for me.

The care he shows for me is exquisite, all of the little things he does that together with his fierce, brutal protectiveness makes him the perfect man for me.

When we finally make it out of the house he keeps my hand tucked in his, guiding me carefully out to the BMW and helping me in like a gentleman. Once he’s in the driver’s seat and the car is out of the road he takes my hand again. I rub his hand with my thumb, tracing over the tattoos he has there.

I need to paint him again.

The moment I’ve finished the others, the ones that are pouring out of me like a wave of poison being expelled from my soul, I’m painting mon Monstre again.

His voice startles me out of my painting plans. “You better be thinking about me with that dreamy look in your eyes, baby girl.”

When I glance over at him he’s grinning at me, a little lopsided and a whole lot of self-satisfaction. “Always, mon Monstre. I’m always thinking of you. I think I’m going to fill the apartment with paintings of you and all of your tattoos.”

He pulls a face and I laugh at him. “Baby girl, that sounds like a nightmare. My ugly mug everywhere, I’ll be walking around with my eyes shut.”

I frown at him, reaching out to stroke his face with my hand. “I know nightmares well. This face is not one of them and you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever laid eyes on. I can’t help but want to paint you.”

He shrugs and turns the car down another road until we’re in the downtown area of the Bay. It’s busy, even this late in the afternoon.

“Paint some of us together. If I’m going to be covering the walls, you better be too.”

It’s my turn to pull a face. There’s no way I want to paint myself, not at all and he chuckles under his breath at me, saying “See? Not so fun, is it? Besides, you’re the beautiful one. If anyone is going up there it’s you, baby girl.”

He parks and gets out before I can argue with him. There’s no point even trying but I think he underestimates how much I adore looking at him. That the idea of covering the walls with his likeness is my idea of perfection.

He opens the door for me and then tucks me into his side as we walk. I have no idea of what fashion is like here in the States and none of the clothing stores we pass look familiar at all. Not that I did a whole lot of shopping back home but I would walk through every new town my father moved us to and look through the windows with longing.

I always wanted to fit in and feel normal, whatever that is.

“Let’s try this one, baby girl. I want to see you in that dress.” Illi points one out and the white dress in the front is very beautiful. It has a red sash around the waist that would look beautiful with a red lipstick.

There are many clothes in the store I would like. Too many, I hesitate to grab anything because it’s all too much money. I didn’t put up too much of a fight about the art supplies because painting and drawing is a part of my soul but to spend this kind of money on clothes?

Mon Monstre looks at me like I’m the most beautiful woman on Earth while I stand in front of my easel in his sweatpants and covered in paint.

What’s the point of beautiful, expensive clothing?

“If you don’t start grabbing things you like, I’ll do it for you and you might not like what I pick out. There’s lingerie in here too but I’ve got that under control.”

I look up to find Illi with a basket already overflowing with lace. I sigh and shrug. “Where would I wear jeans? Where would I ever need to go?”

He grabs the pair from my hands and tucks them into the basket. “Baby, you can go where the fuck you wanna go. Don’t think about it so hard, just pick what you like and we’ll figure out the rest later.”

I insist on trying them on first and I grab a few other items to try along with them.

The jeans feel weird.

I can't actually remember the last time I'd worn a pair. Definitely back in France but even then my father had hated them, telling me no self respecting woman would wear them. I'd found a pair at a small market, second hand and fitting me like a glove, and I'd hidden them from him. Louis had told me I looked beautiful in them, the curves of my ass an inviting sight for such a man.

I buy them.

I buy dozens of shirts and skirts, some sweaters and a good winter coat. I'm not sure the Bay ever really gets cold but the lines of the coat suit my shape and I feel good in it.

Mon Monstre hands over cash to the girl at the store, her hands shaking just a little as she takes it from him. I think she would rather throw herself into oncoming traffic than take money from the infamous Butcher.

He smirks at her as he tucks me under his arm, kissing the top of my head as though we are a normal couple, loved up and out on a date, and I wrap an arm around his waist.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Illi

I PUT the word out that I need information on the Alcatron and Mecedo cartels. I know that someone somewhere will hear something and it’ll get back to me. The prices I set for the information are fucking high, enough to feed a family for years, and everyone knows I’m good for it.

The only problem is it means I have to hang around in my usual haunts until someone comes forward.

I have no real interest in going to the Dive and fighting but everyone knows I’m usually there on a Friday night, always in the cage destroying some new comer, so I text Harbin and Roxas to tell them to meet me there and I leave my girl with a plate of breakfast and a new canvas to work on.

I can’t look at her current paintings without needing to kill someone. I need their blood on my hands and my chest, spattering over me as I rip their hearts out with my bare hands.

Soon.

My girl kisses me long and sweet when I leave, her tongue dancing against mine and tempting me to just say ‘fuck it’ and spend the whole night with her silky thighs wrapped around me. Fuck, I can’t but I’m addicted to the feel of her, the taste of her on my tongue as she comes and gushes all over me, the vise-like grip of her pussy on my cock as I pump my come deep into her.

I need to get my mind on my night, and out of the pleasures her body gives me.

The night is clear and cool as I drive over to the Dive, the Mustang purring to perfection underneath me. The parking lot is packed, a busy night ahead and even though my jaw clenches at the prospect, I remind myself that more people means more chances for the information I need.

The entire place definitely shows signs of the explosion that took place here thanks to the Demons.

The walls have been fixed with old planks of wood and sheets of rusted metal, making the place look even fucking worse. There's still scorch marks everywhere, on the floor and the bar, but the place is packed anyway, no one in the Bay really gives a fuck about a little bit of bomb fallout.

I shoulder my way through the crowd, ignoring the shouts and jeers once the regulars see me coming. I'm not here to fight tonight, not for the usual reasons. I have shit to get done, a list to check off and hearts to collect for my girl.

Besides, the fighters all lining up by the cage? Fucking pathetic, not even worth the time it would take me to strap my hands.

There are four members of the Twelve here tonight.

The Vulture is one of them.

Fuck, deep breaths. Raging out and gutting the fuck here isn't the best idea. There's got to be at least a hundred people packed into this bar and only about ten of them don't belong to one of the members. Of those ten maybe half of them would consider backing me, only so I owed them for that show of loyalty later.

“We should just stick to our usual bar, this place is a fucking bloodbath waiting to happen,” Harbin says as he claps me on the shoulder.

I shrug and nod at the bartender for a drink. “More people here tonight. I want this shit over with, best way to get information is to be here.”

Roxas roars with laughter as he moves towards us, a jug of beer in his hand that he’s drinking without a glass. I don’t usually see him with beer, something must be up. That or he’s already fucking trashed.

“We could gut the Vulture, right here and now. Get that list of yours started with a fucking bang,” he says, so loud that we get looks from some of the Viper’s men around us.

Like I give a fuck.

“Tonight isn’t the right time. I want the perverted fuck to sweat it out for a while first. I want him fucking shaking at the mention of my name.” It’s true but I also need to make sure the kid doesn’t get caught up in my vengeance and killing the Vulture in such a public way will definitely have her choosing sides.

I have more than just Odie to protect now.

I take the glass of whiskey and turn away from the bar, watching out as the fights start up. As expected, they’re all fucking pathetic. Thugs and poser gangbangers roughing each other up for some quick cash. I need higher stakes than that to catch my interest.

I need a little death to make it worth it.

Once I’ve seen enough of that bullshit I look out over the crowd to get a gauge of who’s here. A whole lot of the Viper’s men but that’s normal. The Ox and the Lynx are here which isn’t all that out of the ordinary. One of the Lynx’s sons likes to think of himself as a big man, a fighter, when really he’s nothing but a dirty rat. The fact he’d sell his own mother out for drugs and girls is fucking disgusting.

Handy information to keep up my sleeve though.

With my plans to take out two of the members of the Twelve, knowing who the rats are can really fucking help me out later. How I’m not sure yet but I’ll figure it out.

Harbin claps me on the shoulder again as he moves away to talk to other bikers, all of them from out of town and a good source of information. Roxas is chugging his way through the beer, not a great amount of help but if shit goes south he’ll be up to fight.

Even completely blackout wasted he’s fucking deadly.

I stay near the bar, visible and ready to talk to anyone that might come forward. There’s eyes on me for the whole night, all of them assessing and just a little wary. No one knows what to do with this new version of me, the one that has a line and a woman waiting at home for me. They’re all trying to figure out if I’ve gone soft.

By the end of my list they’ll know two things.

I’m even more deadly than before and fucking no one touches my woman and survives.

Eventually the kid shows up and slips into the seat next to me, careful not to ever look my way completely. There’s enough eyes in the room that she has to be cautious, a little wary of being seen hanging out with me, and I wonder what the fuck she’s even doing here.

“I leave for school in two days. I got my emancipation.” She says as the bartender puts a shot of whiskey in front of her. I order her a burger and when she gives me a look I give one right back to her.

“Just fucking eat it. That’s great, kid. What do you need here? Are you on a job or just here to say goodbye?”

She fidgeting like a fucking crackhead but I know she’s stone cold sober right now. This is nerves, the type that come from really fucking caring about the person you’re talking to and the reaction your words are going to get. “I need you to cut off all communication with me.”

“I can do that, kid. What’s your plan?” I keep my voice even and calm, no signs of disappointment or anger. She’s getting the fuck out of the Bay, how can I hold a grudge over that shit? She doesn’t need anything else on her plate.

She sighs. “My plan is to finish high school and get the fuck out of this life. My plan is to find… normal and boring. Stop killing people to survive. Stop being the scariest person in the room.”

Fuck.

I didn’t know she struggled with this shit.

From the cold, calm, and deadly that’s always on her face, I’ve always thought she enjoyed the killing the same way I do. Apparently not.

That just makes me respect her more.

She hates the kill and yet she threw down for my girl like that? She’s too fucking good. I’ve said it before and I’ll keep fucking saying it; she’s too fucking good for the Bay and for me and for anyone else.

“You could induct me. I could keep people the fuck away from you, might help you get out of here and get D’Ardo away from you.”

She blinks up at me, her blank face not showing any of the shock she’s for fucking sure feeling. “You’ve spent your whole life refusing to sign up under anyone. There’s no way I’m letting you do that shit. Besides, I have a plan to get out. I’m good.”

I shrug. I had to put in on the table for her, it’s the least I fucking owe her. “That sounds good, kid. Are you coming back for summer holidays? You can stay with me and Odie, we’ll keep you out of shit. Odie would love that.”

She looks twitchy and hesitant. “I’ll call you once the year is over… see what my plan is then. Thanks for… thanks for being there for me. Thanks for the burger and for giving a shit.”

She sounds awkward as shit and, fuck, I feel the same. “No problem, kid. You’re family to me and my girl now. You need me, I’ll be there. No matter what. Promise me you’ll call.”

She nods and ducks her head a little, chowing down on the food and drinking her shot without another word. I watch her back and survey the crowd some more to make sure no one is about to give us both any shit.

When she’s done she gets up and gives me a quick nod of her head, slinking back out of the room like the little lost girl she isn’t, head held high and grown men cowering away from her.

Fuck, I hope that big school of hers gets her out of this life. I hope she’s fed three square meals a day and meets some boring guy who’ll treat her right.

I hope she’s fucking happy.

It’s towards the end of the night when finally someone approaches me, and it’s Tank of all people. The enforcer for the Silver City Serpents back in California, he’s been in more fights with Harbin and Roxas than I can count but I’ve never had anything personally to fight it out with him over.

"You're looking for work aren't you?"

I shrug. "Not exactly. I'm looking for information and if you've got it, I'll pay in green or blood."

Tank nods and scratches at his beard. “I know what you’re after. I have someone I need moved. Picked up in Monteray and taken back home to Louisiana. How much would that cost me?"

I down the rest of my whiskey. "I need information on the Alcatron and Mecedo cartels. That's all I need right now."

Tank huffs out a breath. “Yeah, I came into some information on them. They’re opening up some new warehouses here in the Bay, obviously they don’t know about your fucking hunt for them. I gotta warn you, man, the Mecedo cartel aren't good people. You don't want to get mixed up with them, whatever money you're after ain't worth it."

I pull my jacket a little tighter as I adjust myself on the seat, just so my hands have something to do. I’m so fucking sick of people needing to vet my reasons for needing shit. If I want it, I'm fucking getting it. I like Tank well enough but I'll kill him in a heartbeat for the information I need. In a fucking heartbeat.

"This is personal and I'm not going round there for a drink. I'll move your guy, no question, just tell me what you know. If it's worth it, I'll do your job."

It's not just worth it.

It's everything I need to know.

"Make sure they're all dead, would ya? I don't need this shit on my doorstep. I've got enough turf wars and drug debts to fucking last a lifetime right now. I need my kid out of harm’s fucking way even if she thinks I'm an asshole, and I need her boyfriend dead. Think you can handle that?"

I shrug. "I can move her and if the boyfriend isn't willing to let her go I'll put a bullet between his eyes. I'm on a time crunch here, can the guys up state handle her?"

He nods and rubs at his chin again. "If anyone could handle her, it'll be her brothers. Take my word of advice, don't have kids. Too much fucking trouble."

He can take that advice and shove it up his ass. My kids are going to be fucking perfect, how can they not be with the angel of a mother they'll have.

TANK GIVES me the information for the warehouse, knowing well enough that I fucking always deliver and my need for the information is a high priority. My opinion of him goes up a fraction, something else I’m damn sure he’s hoping for too.

I’m a handy person to have your back in a fight and I never forget a debt owed. While I might not owe him, I’d pick him over a helluva lot of people now he’s helped me hunt the cartel for my girl.

I stay at the Dive until all of the fights are over and the crowd has thinned out until only the regulars are there, drinking their way to an early grave. Harbin has to half-carry Roxas out, a grimace on his face at the prospect of dragging him back to their clubhouse to sleep it off.

I get on the road and light a cigarette, holding the smoke in my chest and letting it burn me from the inside out. The warehouse is out in the sticks, out past the edge of the city limits where the forest thins out to endless miles of sandy nothingness. I enjoy the fuck out of the drive. The road is quiet enough at this time of the morning that I can let my Mustang eat up the highway like it’s nothing. It also gives me the chance to just think my plans through, to plan out exactly how I need Mecedo and his men to die.

I remember everything my girl told me about her time with them.

No one is ever going to treat her like that again, fucking never, and I’ll make them fucking regret ever buying a bride from a junkie dealer from Europe.

I need to plan a trip out to deal with him too.

One death at a time, I have to focus on this one. I need him to die in a very specific way, I need him staring into my eyes and seeing his death there. I need him fucking begging for mercy, the type of mercy I’ll never give him.

The type of mercy he never gave my baby girl.

I finally make it to the location, right on the very last patch of forest, and find the warehouse nestled amongst the trees. I park a fair distance away and take the trail up with a cigarette in between my lips.

Tank had said the operation was new and the manpower wasn’t there yet so I’m not too worried. Besides, they aren’t expecting me to show up here armed to the fucking teeth with blades and fire power. None of them know that Odie is mine and the bride Mecedo threw away is now under my protection.

The security here isn’t great but I spot some cameras. I get close enough that they could get a good look at me but I have a guy for that shit now.

I send a text message to the Coyote about the cameras and the security here, hoping he can tap into them and get me eyes in there. Knowing where everything is will make this a whole lot easier, something I can do by myself and not have to call in any more favors for or splash any more cash out.

The perimeter is clear, no guys walking around out here during the night. That seems pretty lax, not something most cartels would do, but with the remote location and the fact they’ve just moved in from out of state, I’d bet they’re not expecting anyone to know they’re here.

I check my phone but there’s nothing there waiting for me but a blank screen. I light up again, ready to walk the perimeter one last time when I spot the hog.

It’s a fucking nice one, easy to spot even for me and I’m never felt the need for one before. Black on black, everything matte and custom, I know there’s been a pretty penny spent on it. That’s not what has me hesitating.

The Devil’s mark is on the tank.

What are the fucking chances that he’d be here? No one in the Bay would be dumb enough to call him, the survival instinct is born and bred and we all know not to fuck with the likes of him. The cartel wouldn’t invite that sort of danger into their operations, I know it.

Could he be here?

I slip back into the darkness at the side of the warehouse to watch out for him and, sure enough, after ten minutes he walks out of the forest and gets onto his bike.

Well, fuck me dead.

It’s too far away for me to get a decent look but I see that he’s a tall guy, broad and armed to the fucking teeth. Biker boots and a leather jacket but no patches. He doesn’t belong to any club, just himself and his own brand of brutality.

I wait until he’s pulled off onto the road, no helmet but he handles his machine with ease, and then I start off into the forest to see what the fuck he was doing. There’s no blood or trail to follow, his footprints barely visible in the dense underbrush, and soon I have no choice but to head back to the car.

Still there’s no cartel men around, this entire fucking scouting mission like child’s play.

My phone buzzes as I get back and I find a message from the Coyote finally.

I’m in. Their system was built by a fucking child, too easy. I’ve wiped the footage with you in it and I’m building a fully mapped out image of the place for you. You’ll have it the second you pay me.

I scoff but D’Ardo has made him fucking twitchy about green and I’ll pay whatever he’s asking.

I head back to my car and then get back onto the highway, done for the night and going home to my girl but there’s an unease in my gut now that wasn’t there before.

It’s telling me it’s not the last I’ve seen of the Devil. Not for a long shot.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Odie

I WAKE with mon Monstre’s mouth on mine, teasing kisses from me before I’m fully conscious. I moan into his lips, my tongue stroking against his and my body curling into the warmth and safety of his instinctively.

“I have to go out of town for work today, baby girl. Lemme taste you before I go. I need your sweet juices on my tongue before I go.”

I mumble at him in my sleep but my body turns instinctively to him. No matter what, I always turn to him like a sunflower following the path of the sun's rays. He pulls the blankets away from my body, baring my nakedness to the warm air of the apartment. We sleep with the air conditioning on but he always turns it up in the early morning so I'm not uncomfortable.

I stretch out like a cat, the long languid lines of my body curving up for his viewing pleasure and he groans deep in his throat, parting my legs to slide in-between them and then he licks a long stripe up my slit as though he's saying good morning to my pussy.

Then he gets to work, licking and sucking until my legs shake and my pussy is gushing with all of the sweet juices he could ever ask for. One hand comes to squeeze at my breast, tweaking my nipple in this most exquisite way until the pain and pleasure is blending, sending me over the edge again as I grind down onto his face.

He makes me come three times before he finally pushes up onto his arms and crawls up my body. My eyes flutter open to find him staring down at me, taking in every inch of my flushed appearance. I smile at him, a little slow and soft in the morning light, and he swoops down to kiss it right off of me.

He tastes like me, and a little bit of minty toothpaste, and I groan at the taste.

I want to taste him too.

When I reach for him he catches my hands in one of his, moving off of me as he brings them up to his lips to press a kiss on my palms. "I have to go, baby girl. I'm already late."

I hear the alarm but Illi doesn't look worried. He must be expecting company. "I'll come out, I'll just wash up first. Are you sure I can't taste you before you go? I want you, mon Monstre."

He groans and adjusts his pants. "Fuck. When I get home I'll feed you my cock, baby girl. I'll come all over that pretty face of yours."

My pussy clenches, greedy for more of him because I'll never have my fill.

After my shower, I pull one of his sweaters on and step out into the apartment, the deep rumble of Illi’s voice clear through the open front door. I move to the kitchen and start the coffee machine, humming an old French lullaby under my breath as I get out everything I need to make crepes for breakfast. The voices get a little louder as Illi and another man walk up the stairs and then the door opens as they both walk in.

Roxas grins at me and says, “Good morning, beauty. How the hell did this asshole manage to snare a pretty thing like you?”

This is the first time we’ve actually spoken a word to one another but I find myself relaxing just a little. His words are flirty but the tone isn’t and he keeps looking at Illi like he’s trying to start a fight.

The glare on mon Monstre’s face says he’s close to starting one.

“I’m making crepes. Do you have time for breakfast, mon Monstre?”

He checks the clock in the kitchen and grimaces. “Sorry, baby girl, you’ll have to give mine to this asshole. He’s here to keep you safe, he’ll be down in the garage mostly. I should be back by lunchtime tomorrow. Don’t worry about a thing, just paint and watch TV and sleep, baby.”

I smile at him and he saunters over to me, kissing me deep and hot the same way he’d kissed and licked my pussy only an hour ago. I turn to liquid under his hands and lips.

“Fuck me, can you guys not do that around me? Love makes me nauseous. Seriously fucking nauseous.”

Illi raises his middle finger at him without looking at him and cups my face with his other hand. “Are you okay with this? I can figure something else out if you’re not.”

I shake my head. I’m not going to be that scared girl anymore. I’m the new and strong Odie, the one who can take on anything and survive. Besides, I have my gun holstered to my leg now. No panicked scrambling to find it if someone makes it past Roxas.

I’m sure no one will get past him.

He's built smaller than Illi is but he's still much bigger than I am. There's weapons strapped to every inch of his body and the easy way he carries himself speaks of confidence and self-assuredness. He knows how to make it out of a fight.

He made it through Lord Devareux’s manor after all.

Illi gives me one last kiss and heads out, the roar of his Mustang loud as he leaves me behind with one of his most trusted friends.

I try not to think about the betrayal of his oldest friend, not that I blame him for that, not at all, but it pops into my mind nonetheless.

I finish up making the crepes while Roxas pokes around the apartment. It doesn't worry me at all but the interest he's taking in everything seems... a little strange.

"Would you like to eat with me? I made more than enough."

He turns back towards me with a grin from ear-to-ear. "I never say no to food. Thanks for cooking, I usually just eat bar food."

I have no idea what sort of food would be served at bars but with his physique it must not be that terrible.

He carries the heavier plates to the table for me and I grab all of the trimmings for the crepes. I prefer mine with Nutella and fresh strawberries and Roxas watches me assemble mine before starting on his.

"Fuck, these are pretty damn good. I was expecting them to be like thin pancakes."

I try not to let the horror show on my face.

Heathens.

He sees it anyway and laughs, shoving half a crepe in his mouth in one go. He makes his way through eight of them before finally being full. He's far more friendly than I thought a biker friend of mon Monstre's would be, taking an interest in my life before I came to the States and how my life looks now. None of it is inappropriate, he never leers at me or makes comments about my looks, but I still feel most comfortable with him on the other side of the table.

I may never trust men enough to be completely comfortable around them and that's okay with me. Mon Monstre is enough for me.

"This place is cleaner than I expected. Guess that's the woman's touch."

I startle out of my daydream and glance over to him. "I haven't changed anything. Only the painting over the fireplace is mine, and the art things over by the window."

His eyebrows shoot up and he looks around again. "Well, I'll be fucking damned. Who'd have thought the Butcher was into sleek kitchens and marble floors."

I tilt my head at him, propping my chin on a fist as I take him in. "You haven't been up here before? I thought you were friends."

He laughs and leans back in his chair, crossing his ankles. "I've been in the garage and his workroom, but I've never been up here. Well. Only the other night and I was too fucking pissed off to notice a damn thing. I just never pegged him for a guy who gave a shit."

I did.

I know what it's like not to have nice things, to live in places that aren't really fit for human inhabitants and I know his time in the group home would be the reason this place now looks so beautiful. He might be the Butcher on the streets, covered in weapons and blood, but here he's just Johnny Illium. Mon Monstre.

The man I love.

THE APARTMENT IS QUIET.

That’s nothing unusual, during the night while mon Monstre is working is always quiet, but knowing that he is out of town for work and I’m here with one of his friends… it makes it a little more alarming. Roxas spends hours downstairs in the garage working on his bike, leaving me to my day of working on my paintings. I can't get my head into it at all and finally I realize that I can't get into the right flow with him here. I might be safe but this is not my usual safe space.

So I go and shower to get the paint off of my body then once I'm dressed in mon Monstre's sweatpants and one of his workout shirts, I brush my teeth and comb out my hair so I'm ready for bed.

There's no way I can possibly fall asleep right now without mon Monstre here, so I pull the blanket off of our bed and set up a cocoon for myself on the couch. My concussion has made TV difficult for me to watch but I get ready to give it a go anyway.

Then I text Illi, tell him I miss him but I'm okay.

He answers back straight away.

I love you, baby girl. Sleep tight, I'll be home soon.

I make some snacks and then get situated, flicking through the channels on the TV but finding nothing worth watching. It's impossible to get comfortable like this and I feel as though I might scream in frustration.

I enjoy being alone so why am I now lonely?

There's a quiet knock at the door and then it swings open, Roxas walking in grinning at me.

"You look comfy. I was coming up to pass out on the couch but I don't want to move you."

I smile and hold up the remote. "You can join me, if you want? I can't find anything worth watching so you can pick. Or I can go to bed if you're tired."

I really don't want to do that but he closes and locks the door behind himself with a chuckle. "Movie night sounds great! I'm sure we can find something that isn't shit."

He kicks his boots off by the door and stalks in, slinging the leather vest over one of the dining chairs and then pulling the hoodie over his head. I see at least five guns strapped to his body. It’s clear he’s taking this babysitting duty seriously.

“Would you like some popcorn? I’ve just made a bowl.”

He grins at me and takes a handful from where I’ve moved it, right in the center of the couch where we can both reach it. We're still as far away from each other as the couch will allow but it works perfectly.

The movie starts out violent but now I’ve been in worse situations… it doesn’t look quite so scary.

“This isn’t going to give you nightmares, is it? I don’t need Illi carving me up because he gets back to you all scared and shit.”

I shake my head. “I don’t dream anymore. Not of monsters or killers.”

He grunts softly under his breath. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense. You know, we're going to kill anyone who's so much as side-eyed you, right? There's a list and everything. No need to stay cooped up in here, everyone in the Bay knows who you are and what the consequences of touching you are."

I shrug, nibbling on the popcorn. "I like it here. I like painting and watching the sun rise from these windows. I go out with mon Monstre when I need to."

He nods and then says, "What does that mean? That name you call him? Sounds awful pretty and he's not exactly that kind of guy."

I giggle, barely containing a snort. Mon Monstre is a handsome man but he definitely isn't pretty. Pretty is soft and feminine. Delicate. He's fierce and brutal and so strong.

"It means my monster. He might be the monster in the shadows for everyone else in this city but he's mine, and I know he'll keep me safe."

Roxas nods and shoves another fist of popcorn into his mouth. "That makes more sense. I gotta tell you, he's definitely a fucking monster out there. One that's going to bleed everyone out who ever thought about hurting you."

That sounds perfect to me. I smile and nod, focussing back on the car chase happening on the screen in front of me. I fall asleep there, tucked up in the cocoon safely and when I wake up again, I find Roxas asleep with his bed against the front door, physically blocking it from anyone attempting to get in.

He is definitely a good man and a loyal friend.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Illi

I NEED to get the job for Tank out of the way so I can get to the Mecedo cartel, so I head up to North California to grab his kid and get her delivered, not expecting much trouble out of this. In and out, it’s a simple pick up.

Boy, was I fucking wrong.

I roll up into the tiny coastal town of Monterey, a surfing paradise during summer but it’s a quiet little art haven during the colder months. Not that it ever gets really cold but the tourists stay clear. I stick out like a sore thumb, my leather jacket and biker boots not the regular rags people up here wear but the tattoos and mean look on my face help keep people the fuck away from me.

I go into a tiny roadside cafe, the type that decorates with a theme so the entire place is covered in surfboard and shark teeth. Sand crunches under my feet, as if the patrons regularly come straight here from the beach and the easygoing vibe is tangible in the air.

I hate it.

Gimme the gritty, whiskey-soaked, bloody nights of the Bay anytime.

I take a booth and the waitress eyes me like I’m on the fucking menu. My lip curls in her direction, a clear fuck-off, but she only adjusts her tits so they try to spill out of her shirt.

I pull a gun out and sit it on the table as she hands me a menu. That gets her attention.

“You got a license for that?” Her voice is too high-pitched, too sweet, all fake and fucking disgusting.

“No, doesn’t mean the bullets won’t kill you if you don’t quit your shit. I want a coffee, black, and I want you to leave me the fuck alone once you’ve brought it over. Button your shirt up and I might even tip you.”

She huffs and leaves me.

I prefer the women in the Bay. They only approach me if I wave them over, the whole lot of them trained without me doing a fucking thing to stay the hell away from me. If I’m out, there's a good chance I’m working, so even before Odie I didn’t want them chasing me. Too easy for them to get in the way and catch a stray bullet to the head.

Pretty fucking handy now that I’ve got my baby girl.

I sit and drink my coffee, waiting in the booth and watching everyone around me. Tank gave me a description and details of his kid’s daily routine. Not that he knows it from being so close to her, nah he’s much more fucking absent than that.

He has a couple of his guys watching her.

Nothing says fatherly love like an MC club stalking you.

Fuck knows how she even got a boyfriend with them on her tail like that. You’d think Tank would’ve told them to step in, but I guess he doesn’t care about her enough for that shit. He said she picked the wrong guy, not just that there’s a guy to begin with.

I sit there for over an hour waiting, the waitress getting fucking twitchy about not being able to approach me now I’m taking up a table as the cafe gets busy but finally my patience pays pff.

I notice her right away.

A whole tumble of strawberry blonde hair is curling down her back, the waves of it like the wild mane of a summer child. The color is the same as her dad’s, though his is shaved and it’s his beard that shows his coloring.

She’s wearing the tiniest pair of shorts that show off her long legs and a crop top that has her ink showing where it curls around her back and over her stomach. There’s a leather jacket slung over her shoulders, and the helmet on her arm is the same style that old bikers wear.

She looks like a biker bitch, through and through.

I’m going to be lucky to get through this without having eight new bullet holes in my body for my girl to fuss over later.

She walks in on her own but greets the waitresses like they’re old friends before ducking behind the counter and into the back. When she comes back out she’s changed into one of the little uniforms, an apron tied around her waist and a notepad in her hand.

From biker bitch to diner waitress in under a minute.

I hear my waitress telling her about me, and the gun, and Savannah scoffs before stalking over to me, no fucking fear.

“There a reason you’re walking your ass into my cafe with a 9 mil and a shitty attitude? We don’t like your type around here, maybe you should head on home.”

I look up and I see her eyes taking every inch of me in but it’s not at all her checking me out. Nope, she’s assessing the situation, looking for more weapons, judging what it’s going to take to get me out of here without any casualties.

She’s smart. The kind of smart a kid gets from growing up in a shitty situation. I wonder if her mom was decent enough or if she wasn’t around. Tank is a decent enough kind of guy but I don’t know shit about being a dad.

My own was a fucking lost cause.

I let myself think about Odie and a baby we could have together for about a half second before I lock that shit down tight.

I’m not my fucking father and I’ll keep her and my kid safe from this shit. Safe and loved and fed well at all times.

Fuck, I’ve got to stop thinking about kids.

“I’m just here for a coffee, no trouble.” I say, holding my hands out like I’m not a threat.

She doesn’t buy it. “Oh yeah? Why pull out the piece then?”

I grin at her, laying on the charm to distract her suspicions. “The waitress kept shoving her tits in my face. I’m a family man, I’ve got no interest in banging some server when I have a bombshell waiting back home for me.”

Her eyes narrow at me, like she’s not at all sure I’m telling the truth. Doesn’t matter, I get up and throw a couple of hundreds on the table. Her eyes follow me out of the diner and I walk out to sit and wait for her in my car. Now I know she’s on shift I can just wait her out. I send a message to Odie, breathing easy when she messages back our safe word, then one that makes me sure she’s safe and happy in our apartment.

She has a six hour lunchtime shift.

It’s boring as fuck to wait around but when she finally clocks off I’m ready for her. There’s a rush of people coming out of the diner as she does and it takes a minute to find her through the bodies. I keep my weapons holstered because this isn't my usual turf and I don't need to deal with pigs today.

I know the minute this girl figures out I’m following her. Instead of taking the direct path to her motorcycle, which I know thanks to Tank's spies, she starts weaving through the crowd, up and down streets to attempt to lose me.

I'm too good for that shit though I'm oddly proud that she knows how to do it. I've seen too many girls getting grabbed, hurt, and fucking sold lately. It's good to see one that's going to fight back.

When she finally takes the alleyway to get to a car she's still darting around people and I spot the keys that are in her hand. There’s a bottle of pepper spray on it, fuck’s sake, and the keys are pushed tight between her fingers so she can jab my eyes out if I get close enough.

Like I said, smart girl.

Too bad for her I’m smarter, bigger, and made for killing. If I wanted to, I could take her down and kill her in under a minute with no one on the street any wiser.

Good thing for her I don’t want to.

When we take the last turn into the parking lot she turns on me, pepper spray can in her hand raised to aim right at my eyes. That shit wouldn't save her but I don't have the patience to deal with that shit today. I grab her wrist and pull her hand down, ducking so the first stream of the fiery liquid doesn't hit my face. She doesn't scream or panic, just shifts straight into a defensive stance.

I know it's coming so when her foot aims for my dick I trap it with my thighs and take her down with a quick kick to the back of her knee. She scrapes down her arm on the brick wall of the building we're next to as she goes down to her knees but she barely grunts at the sound.

"I'm not here to hurt you, so knock that shit off so we can talk."

She doesn't take that advice at all, scrambling back up to her feet and moving to run.

Fine.

Guess I gotta be the asshole.

I shoot forwards and get her around the waist before she has time to bolt, the other hand clamping tight over her mouth as her body struggles against me.

"I was trying to be nice. You won't like it if I start being a real asshole, so quit your shit."

"YOUR FATHER SENT ME."

We're sitting in my car, her wrists and her ankles cable tied and no chance of her getting away from me now. I get the car back onto the highway and start off, heading down state. I'm meeting some Serpents there to take her back home.

Her eyes widen. “My dad sent you? Are you fucking kidding me? That old asshole doesn’t give two shits about me but now I’m fucking happy he wants to come ruin shit by sending some thug after me? No. Fuck no. I’m not getting in that car. Colt will find me if you do. I know he will.”

Fuck me.

What are the chances it's the Colt I know? Couldn't possibly be, he'd said a girlfriend back home to me and the Chaos Demon charter he's a part of is in Texas, definitely not in Cali.

“Colt. As in, Colt Graves? Tell me it’s a different Colt.”

She smirks at me, happy as fuck that I recognize her dumbass boyfriend's name. The poor girl thinks it'll stop this shit from happening. “Yeah, he’s a fucking Graves. You know what type of people they are, right? Not a smart fucking move to kidnap me.”

Could my day get any fucking worse?

I take the next exit and pull off into a parking bay. I rub a hand over my eyes and then I hand her back her phone, watching as she clutches awkwardly at it. “Call him and give me the phone. Now.”

She sighs but it sounds more like she’s trying not to scream at me. “Fine. Whatever, he’s going to tell you the same damn thing.”

She hands her phone back over to me and it takes a minute to get through to the little shit.

“Sav, this ain’t a good time—”

“Yeah, no fucking shit.”

The line goes dead, not a fucking sound out of him, and then I hear the crunching of gravel under his shoes as he moves away from whoever he’s with. “The fuck are you doing with her? Butcher, if you touch a motherfucking hair on her head—”

I scoff at him. “Shut it, Graves, I’m not here to hurt her. I’m here to get her the fuck away from you. Her pops isn’t happy about her seeing a Demon. I just didn't think it was you because what are the fucking chances?”

His sigh down the phone is long and loud. “Nah, his problem is with my last name more than my club. Anywhere you take her, I’ll find her. Pure and simple, that girl is my angel.”

Angel. He’d called Odie that, and he knows I’ll get exactly what he’s saying.

He’ll kill whoever gets in his way to get her back.

Maybe I am getting fucking soft because I reply, “Well, how the fuck are we fixing this? I need this job done right so you need to think quick.”

He mumbles under his breath and then says, “Gimme five, man. I’ll call back once I’ve got it.”

So I guess now I’m helping Colt motherfucking Graves hide his girlfriend from his daddy and hers.

What a fucking day.

I cut the ties on Savannah now I'm sure she's not going to run. She takes her phone back and gives me a side eye. "How the fuck do you know him? Tank would kill any member of his club hanging out with Demons."

I light a cigarette and when she stares at it with longing I hand her one as well. "I don't belong to a club, I'm not the type to sign my life and loyalty up for that bullshit. I'm not becoming some dickhead's bitch-boy."

She blows a long stream of smoke out and sighs like she's come home at the taste of it. "I never expected him to send someone outside of the club for me. Fuck, I musta really pissed him off."

I shrug. "Guess so."

I HEAR the roar of the bikes before I see him.

Savannah straightens in the passenger seat, the fiery halo of curls around her face an easy target for the Demon prince to find.

He has three other guys with him, none of them shocked to see me or his girl, and Colt swings off of the bike like a pro, stalking over to rip Savannah’s car door open to get to her.

I snarl at him, “Watch the fucking car, dickhead. I’ll put a bullet in you for that alone.”

He ignores me, the dick, and wrenches Savannah out. “Fuck, baby, what happened? I thought you were laying low.”

She tucks her face into his neck and breathes him in. If I had any doubts that they were fucking obsessed with each other before I certainly don’t now. Something rolls around in my gut, a familiar feeling now I have a woman of my own.

The things I’ve done to keep her safe… I imagine Colt would do the same. I slide out of the car in time to hear her filling Colt in, her tone not even hushed a little.

“Tank sent one of his guys up last week and I told him to fuck off so he sent this guy. I didn’t know he had gangbanger friends but apparently he does!” she shrieks and I level Colt a look over her shoulder.

He stares back at me with the sort of defiance only a kid growing up in hell can have. “They’re not friends. The Butcher will take money from anyone. How much did Tank offer you?”

I lean back against my side of the car, nonchalant and arrogant. Like I give a fuck about his opinion of me… except that maybe he should watch his fucking mouth before I kill the lot of them just for mouthing off.

The extra guys shift on their feet, uncomfortable as fuck to be this close to me. I don’t know what the fuck Colt told them about me that they’d even come here.

What does his daddy think of our friendship?

“They’re solid. There’s no way they’re saying a word about her or you.”

I cock an eyebrow at him. “Oh yeah? I think you’re forgetting the drugs I gave your club on a fucking platter came from my oldest and most trusted friend. He kidnapped my girl and sold her off at the skin markets.”

Colt flinches just a little. I’m sure he’s only thinking about his girl and how fucking bad those markets are, but then he shocks me by saying, “You get her back okay? You kill the man that bought her?”

A savage grin slashes over my face before I can rein it in. “She’s safe. She took the buyer out herself, me and the Wolf trained her well.”

The guys get even more fucking twitchy and Colt grimaces. “Of course you know the Wolf. Any other boogie men in your crew? Any more monsters come to life that you hang out with on the regular?”

The grin stays just as savage, just as fucking proud on my face at that. They’re terrified of the scrawny little kid.

They should be.

Even if she weren’t fucking good at what she does, she has me behind her now, on anything from here out.

I decide to fuck with him, just for fun and because my day hasn’t been the best. “I saw the Devil last week. Seems like a decent enough guy.”

If by decent I mean a fucking deranged psychopath that I’m going to steer fucking clear of just as best as I can.

Two of the guys swear and walk away, kicking dust up as they make their way back to their bikes. The blood is completely drained from Colt’s face and his hands are clutching a little tighter at Savannah’s waist.

“Tell me you’re fucking joking? Was he in the Bay? Fuck man, shit is about to get really fucking bad down there. You better pack your girl up and get out of town. Get out before you get dead.”

His voice is eight shades of fucked up and I get that the Devil is bad but this sounds a little more like a personal story.

“What would you know of the Devil?”

Colt kisses his girl softly, putting a helmet in her hands and nudging her over to his bike and away from this conversation. “The Devil came to Indiana years back, took out the entire clubhouse, except me and my brother. We were in the back with our moms, both of them fucking high and passed out. We sat there in that tiny fucking bunk room and heard more than a dozen men killed. Not just killed, they were sprayed out on the fucking walls, not a body to be fucking found but gallons and gallons of blood and ground up organs fucking everywhere. Fourteen men, man. Not one of them survived. So yeah, I know of him and I know you need to get the fuck outta the Bay if he’s calling because you’re no match. No one is.”

Well.

Holy fuck.

I knew the story, didn’t know it was the Demons and certainly didn’t know there were survivors.

I nod my head and light up a cigarette, offering one to Colt which he takes. “Take the girl and keep her safe. I’ll square shit with Tank, lie about whatever I have to to get us all out of this safe. Keep her alive man, keep her away from your fucking dad. Last thing that girl needs is to end up with Grimm’s target on her back.”

He levels a stone cold look at me. “You think I don’t know? I live with the man, I know all about his list of fucking sins. It’s long and fucking deranged.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Odie

MON MONSTRE HAS BEEN HOME from his day trip for a full week before I finally break down. My work on the paintings is slowly eroding all of my strength, one by one as the faces appear, until I reach the worst of the men. Painting Alcatron is like standing on the surface of the sun, impossible and incinerating.

Illi leaves for the night with a piece of toast in one hand and his keys in the other, kissing me hot and hard over the kitchen sink as I wash up.

He arrives home twelve hours later to me sobbing.

I can't stop the sounds tearing out of my lips, the agony and pain clawing at me. Painting Alcatron is like standing in the rain only to find the droplets are made of acid, eating away at your flesh and leaving you stripped to the bone.

I thought it would be like the others, a healing experience but instead I feel like that dirty, broken, terrified girl. The one Illi had found and brought back here. The one who didn't know that the sun could shine again. I feel worthless.

"No more fucking painting."

I hear him snap but I can't react, I can't lift my head up from the floor. I can't think about anything but the filth on my skin.

"We're taking a fucking day off from this shit. No more facing demons."

He tries to touch me but I roll away from him. I don't want him getting dirty too. Then, he really snaps.

"Don't for one fucking second think you're going back into yourself, Odette. We've walked through fire to get you good again, we're not dragging our asses back to hell for a fucking painting."

The sobbing gets worse.

It's not a painting, it's the inside of me. The parts he can't see because the packaging it comes in is too pretty to see past. Every stroke of the brush is what's going on under my skin.

How can he not see that?

I try to move away from him but he's too fast, too angry, too done with all of this bullshit of mine to let me. Instead, he scoops me up into his arms and stomps back to our bedroom. He's still dressed for war, his boots covered in mud and blood that he's now tracking through the house.

When I point this out to him, my voice drenched in tears and pain, he snaps, "I couldn't take the time to get them off my fucking feet while you were rolling around on the ground screaming, could I?"

I didn't know I was making any noise.

He sits me on the counter in the bathroom and then bends down to unlace the boots. The sobs are still bursting out of my throat but I've numbed out a bit. The pain now back down to the subtle ache and not the clawing sharpness of talons in my gut.

"I'm sorry."

His eyes meet mine and he grits out through clenched teeth, "Don't fucking apologize to me, Odie. Not now and not ever."

He strips down, slowly revealing every inch of his hard body to me, the blood and gore streaked over him a sign of a busy day at the office for him.

A giggle bursts through the sobs.

"I'm glad my dick is so funny to you, baby girl." Illi drawls as he steps into the shower, his eyes still on me as he begins to soap down and wash away the evidence of his night.

I shake my head at him. "Maybe I am broken, mon Monstre. Maybe I'll never be fully healed again. I'm laughing at the deaths you're responsible for tonight. Normal people don't feel that way."

He scrubs a hand through his hair, the piercings in his nipples flashing as his pecs flex. My mouth waters a little as my pussy clenches. At least my breakdown hasn't ruined my appetite for him.

"No one is normal, baby girl. Everyone has skeletons in their closets. Everyone has deep secret needs, things they don't talk about at the dinner table. Everyone craves a little blood when you push the right buttons. I don't give a fuck if you're normal. I just want you and I really fucking want you to stop crying."

I nod and dash away my tears on the sleeves of the sweatshirt. It doesn't stop them from coming but it's something to show him I'm trying to stop the onslaught. I'm trying to pull myself back together and stop with the craziness of my trauma.

When Illi finally gets out of the shower and dries off, I think I'm better. The tears are now streaming silently, no sobs or sounds coming out of me, and there's a smile on my face.

"Baby girl, the only tears on your face from here out better be from choking on my dick."

Another giggle bursts out of me.

How can he say that to me and my only response is my pussy weeping, desperate to taste his come as he pumps it down my throat? One of the worst things Alcatron did to me was choking me, forcing me to swallow his come.

But mon Monstre could tie me up, choke me until I passed out, spit on me, carve his name into my skin, and I'd thank him and beg him for more.

That is the length of my love for him.

The depths of my adoration.

I need more of him, every last inch of his greatest perverted desires. I want to fall at his feet and let him use me, knowing that it would be the greatest joy of my life.

"Gimme those eyes, baby girl. I need to see how much you want me."

I stare up at him, my lashes still heavy with tears and my cheeks sore from the constant streams of my salty tears.

A smirk forms on his face, manly satisfaction shining through him. He’s fixed me with the power of his naked body, the promise of sex and the life we will lead the moment his list is finished with and we can start fresh in a world where my rapists no longer exist.

“Are you mine, baby girl? Do you belong to me, to be used by me?”

Used.

“Yes. Yes, mon Monstre, please use me until I can’t feel anymore. Please make it stop hurting.” The words slip from my lips like a prayer, a whispered exaltation because I live and breath for this man.

This monster of mine.

“Turn around and get those hands on the countertop, baby girl. Don't let go."

A shiver runs through my body, my blood igniting and every fiber of my body singing for him.

I do exactly as he says. "Good girl. Now spread your legs out a little. Show your man how good you can be, baby.”

His hand smooths down my spine, stroking and teasing gently as he goes. My legs fall open as my body obeys him without a single thought running through my head. It’s as though everything switches off for him, like all I can focus on is being a good girl for him.

Only for him.

He takes all of the things I hated about my old life and he breathes new meaning into them. I’m a good girl, I obey him, I am pretty and I am agreeable.

And I am worshipped.

His lips come down onto my shoulder and I feel the velvet touch on my skin before the flash of pain as he bites me there, his teeth sinking into the soft flesh as he sucks a mark there.

I want to bear his touch, I want to be branded by his love.

He sucks marks all the way down my spine before he leaves a purpled braised imprint of his teeth on my ass, slapping the other side until the skin is red and hot to the touch. My legs tremble and my pussy weeps as I try to hold back the orgasm furiously balancing on the edge.

When he finally impales me in one stroke I come violently, screaming out until my hoarse voice breaks and I begin to weep again, my body pushed to its limits and beyond.

His hands are the only thing holding me up as my hands scramble uselessly at the counter to hold on as he pounds into me, that piercing of his brutal as it hits all of the most sensitive spots inside me. A second orgasm destroying me before he finally finds his own release, his hips pushing and grinding me into the sink.

When he pulls away I expect there to be come dripping down my legs but again he’s managed to get a condom on without me noticing. I sigh, frustrated again that I haven’t been able to feel him inside me without the barrier.

He cleans up and pulls on a pair of boxer briefs, grabbing a sweater to pull over my head before leading me over to the bed. I don’t know if I could possibly go to sleep yet, the sex was perfect but my mind is still feeling all of the gutting terror it had before.

The orgasms only held it off for a minute.

Mon Monstre tucks me in and then walks out to the kitchen for a bottle of water. I’m expecting him to fix himself some dinner or to lock up but instead he brings over a knife roll from the kitchen. I’ve never seen it before and when I raise an eyebrow at him he shrugs.

“This was in my jacket pocket, baby girl. This isn’t for our food, it’s a work set of knives. Lemme talk you through it.”

I nod and scoot back in the bed so he can open up the roll. There’s a lot more than knives in here… though there are a lot of knives as well. There are cleavers and saws and even an awl.

It looks like a very painful toolkit.

“When you get back to those paintings of yours, I don’t want you thinking about what those men did to you. You’re stronger than that, baby girl. I want you thinking about what I’m going to be doing to them. This is how I’m going to get their hearts out. I can be in there from the front or the back, depending on whether or not they’re already dead. Then I have to crack open their ribcage, either with the bone saws or the cleavers and brute strength. Then I’ll rip their hearts out with my bare hands, put them in jars to bring home to my girl, and I’ll get rid of their bodies. I think I’ll send them off to the cannibals. That way they’ll get turned into shit exactly like they deserve.”

Nothing about what he says disturbs me.

Except… “You know cannibals? Do they live here?”

He grins and rolls the toolkit back up, tying the leather straps with the sort of care a true professional would use. “They live in the city, yeah. They’re not interested in jail time so they buy from professionals. Don’t worry about it, baby girl. No one is touching you here. Not ever again.”

I nod and when he leans down to kiss me I cup his jaw, pulling him further down into me. There is nothing this man wouldn’t do for me.

Not even feeding my enemies to cannibals.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Illi

THE UNSEEN CLUBHOUSE has seen better days.

The entire fucking place is held up with rusted nails and rotted out cladding and crumbling bricks but no one here gives a fuck. I always thought the Dive was bad but this place… this place really does look like it belongs here.

The docks on the south side of the Bay are notorious for being a gangbanging shithole.

No one has any sort of pride in their shit here, no one except me. The minute I got out of the group home I wanted something clean and warm and fucking expensive. The warehouse was the perfect blending of my work and the home life I wanted.

The fact Odie feels that way too, that she loves the place that I built with my own two hands, just cements her as the perfect woman for me.

I send a text to Harbin before I get out of my car because if I walk up to the front door and some asshole Unseen dick tries to stop me I’ll be giving him a sharp right hook and maybe the sole of my left boot.

Fuck it, I’m in the mood for blood and I’m sure he’d bleed just fine for me.

Harbin spoils all my fucking fun and meets me at the door. “This is a fucking terrible idea, man. Anything he asks from you, none of it is worth it. We can take out Alcatron without his help.”

I shrug and light up a cigarette. “I want him to die in a very specific way. This isn’t just about taking him out. This shit is an eye for an eye… then I’m taking his head with it.”

Harbin shakes his head but a slow smirk stretches across his face. “You really are a sick fuck, Butcher. Guess we’ve gotta go pay the price then.”

As we step into the clubhouse I think to myself, not for the first time, that Harbin should just leave the Unseen or, fuck, kill the Boar and take it over. The only time I ever see him truly on edge is when we’re around the other bikers, anyone with an Unseen patch who isn’t Roxas.

I know what the Boar did to him.

The old asshole deserves to burn for it.

But now isn’t the time to be thinking of old betrayals, I need to keep my head. I need this asshole to sign off on extra men and I’m willing to bleed a little for it.

I’m also willing to bleed some fucker out for it. More than willing, my fingers have started to itch for blood. It’s been too long since I rescued Odie and got to let my demons out to play.

As we walk through the clubhouse there’s a whole lotta eyeballs on me, none of the men here happy to see the Butcher strolling through during their busy Thursday night.

Fuck them.

Harbin nods at one of the guys that’s hanging out behind the bar and he takes off down the hall without a word between them. Roxas stalks over for one of the couches, a sour look on his face that isn’t usually there. Whatever the hell has been happening here tonight isn’t good.

I stand in silence. I have no fucking appetite for their personal brands of bullshit tonight. Not at all. The men around us seem to be talking a little quieter, like they’re trying to eavesdrop on whatever it is I’m here for and it makes my fucking skin crawl. How the fuck do Harbin and Roxas deal with this every goddamn day?

It takes five long minutes, but finally the door to church opens and out steps the Boar, only taking a half-step out of the room. He’s taking up the whole door frame, the way he’s holding himself a little too tense so I know instantly there’s something in that room he doesn’t want me getting an eyeful of.

We stare at each other for a second, then he frowns and shuts the door, scratching at his beard. “I don’t really have time for this shit. My niece is here and I have boys from the Coldstone charter coming to pick her up. I don’t need that little girl seeing the likes of the Butcher and freaking the fuck out.”

The Boar has family? First I’ve fucking heard of it. “We can do this out here. It’s not a secret, everyone knows I want Alcatron’s head.”

The Boar grunts and nods at the bartender, a glass of Johnnie slides across the bar to him. They don’t offer me anything but I’m not welcome here at all. They want me out of this place and off into some other dark hole in the Bay.

“I can get him taken out but I want a favor in return.”

Fuck no. Not only is that the exact fucking opposite of what I want but there’s no fucking way I’m owing this asshole anything. “I’m not a fucking member of your little Club. I don’t give out diamonds so name a real price or I’ll look up someone else, and I’ll fucking remember this.”

The Boar shrugs and adjusts himself so he’s standing at full height again, the glass already half empty in his hand. “You gonna kill me, Butcher? You gonna add my life to your little collection of Twelve members you’ve killed?”

The club quietens down at his words, as if the entire MC is waiting for my answer. Half of them look ready to throw down for their Prez… but the other half look fucking pissed that he’s starting shit with me. Yeah, my name is well known around here and even bikers think twice about starting shit with me. If only the fucking cartel knew it too.

“I’m telling you that I’m willing to exchange a job for a job, no bullshit favors hanging over my head. I don’t live my life like that, that’s your bullshit. So gimme a fucking job and I’ll do it. In exchange, I want ten of your men for the night. It’ll be an easy night's work for them. I’d pay but we both know my skills are worth more than any amount you could ask for.”

He rubs his chin and relaxes a little. Finally, he jerks his head at the bartender and there’s a glass of Johnnie for me now too.

About fucking time.

“There is something I need that might be more up your alley. Fuck, follow me. Don’t wake the little girl, I don’t need her having nightmares of your ugly mug. She’s got enough on her fucking plate.”

I follow him back into the meeting room and sure enough there’s a bundle of blankets and skinny little limbs sprawled out on the couch behind his seat. She doesn’t wake at us sitting down and when I raise an eyebrow at the Boar he shrugs.

“She’s grown up in this life, she won’t wake unless you forget your damn head and start yelling.”

I nod. I’m not going to do that shit, especially if he’s going to finally start playing ball. “I didn’t know you have family.”

He shrugs. “I don’t. My nephew dropped her off, something big came up. You tell anyone about her and you’ll be skinned alive.”

Like he could fucking kill me, let alone manage to kill me like that. No fucking way. “I don’t care about some kid. Tell me what the job is.”

He shifts around and pulls a folded, discolored piece of paper out of the back pocket of his jeans. I take it and open it up, only to find a newspaper cutout with dozens of faces on it. The headline reads ‘No Leads on the Lily Heart Killer’.

Fuck. I squint at the faces for a second longer until I find the woman I’d stumbled on weeks ago, her chest cracked open and the flower planted in the cavity, dirt and roots where her organs should have been.

What the fuck would the fucking Boar want with this?

He lights up a hand rolled cigarette and takes a deep sip from his glass. “Two more have been found but this time they were here in the Bay. The inner city morgue has files on their autopsies. I want them. I know you have an in with the medical examiner.”

I shrug, not at all worried about being casual around this asshole. “So what? This isn’t the kind of job that you need me for. Plenty of guys in the Bay with an in.”

He leans back in his seat, sucking on his cigarette like it’s keeping him alive, not slowly shaving minutes from the clock. “This is something I don’t want my guys knowing about. This isn’t something for the club. I have skin in the game.”

I light up my own cigarette, glancing at the kid but the blankets haven’t moved an inch. “Right. So I get those reports and you give me the men. Nothing more, nothing less.”

He blows out a thick stream of smoke and nods. “I need them before Sunday so this is a priority. The FBI is heading in to take over and then you’ll lose your chance. None of us need to be dealing with Feds.”

Fuck no. I nod and empty the last of the Johnnie from my glass. I slide the newspaper clipping back to him and he takes it.

“Whoever is doing it isn’t from around here. The handiwork isn’t something local.”

The Boar’s eyes narrow. “What would you know about the handiwork?”

I stub out my cigarette and stand up, the chair scraping softly against the wood flooring. “I’ve seen one up close, a few weeks back. What does a biker Prez care about a fucking serial killer, anyway?”

The Boar shrugs. “That’s none of your concern. All you need to worry about is getting me that file.”

Fuck. Morgues are a nightmare to get in and out of. Not impossible, just a fuck load more security than I like to deal with even when you have an in. My side of the Bay doesn’t bother with that kind of shit. Nah, out here you have to watch out for the eyes of street kids and the homeless. Easy enough to pay off.

Looks like I have to call that dickhead the Coyote again.

I get to the door before the Boar calls out to stop me.

“Butcher.”

I turn and look back at him. He looks fucking old sitting there, like every year of being the Boar and the President adds fucking twenty to his soul.

“What are your plans with the Wolf?”

I swear, the second he says her codename all the calm melts off of me and is replaced with rage. “My plans are to keep her alive and out of Mounts Bay. If you value your life you’ll plan the same fucking thing. If I find out you’re giving her bad jobs or threatening her… I’ll be doing the skinning, Boar. You keep the fuck away from her.”

At the rising of my voice I see a little arm in the pile move, as if the little girl is covering her ears, but I can’t feel guilt right now.

I’m too fucking angry.

The Boar nods slowly and sips his drink like I haven’t just threatened him.

Fuck him.

I’ll make good on my word if he tries anything.

HARBIN AND ROXAS both meet me at the Dive for a drink afterwards.

I call the Coyote on the way there and cut him a deal for his work on the security cams in the morgue. He charges fucking ridiculous prices but I’m flush and there’s no price I wouldn’t pay. Now I don’t have a mansion to pay for I can splash out a little more on the important things… like revenge killings and blood for my girl.

I buy both of my friends’ drinks and take up in our usual booth, nodding at a few of the guys I know and like that are sitting around.

Harbin comes in like he’s hunting and Roxas ducks behind the bar to grab an entire bottle of Jack. Fuck. It’s going to be one of those sorts of nights.

“King’s crew just fucking arrived. The whole place is full of Unseen that are ready to kiss the Boar’s asshole.” Roxas says, and Harbin shoots him a look.

“King is decent. Fuck knows why he puts up with the Boar, even from lock up. You need to keep that shit locked down, man. Last thing we need is the Boar slitting our throats while we fucking sleep for treason.”

Slitting throats. Why the fuck was the Boar asking about the kid? She only left for her swanky school a few weeks ago, I don’t need him or any other member of the Twelve going looking. It’s bad enough D’Ardo won’t fucking let her go… the traitorous fuck.

I need another drink.

I tell them both what the Boar had said about the kid, and they share a look.

“He doesn’t ever talk about the other members but… at the last meeting he kept a close eye on her. I hadn’t noticed it before but I wasn’t looking before. He’s interested. Fuck knows why.” Harbin says, knocking back his glass and handing it over for Roxas to refill.

His dumbass friend, and mine, runs his fat mouth. “What the fuck is it about the kid? She’s fucking tiny, no tits or ass, and she’s what, eleven? Can’t even pass for legal, why are all these grown men panting after her?”

The sentiment is right but fuck do I hate him for talking about her like that. He sees my clenched fists and shrugs. “Even you’re under her spell, man. You might not want her but you want to protect her. She’s really fucking something.”

Harbin shrugs. “You’re just pissed she beat you. The kid is fucking good at what she does. It kinda has me watching kids a little closer now. You never fucking know when one of them is secretly a trained assassin.”

Fucking true.

“So what payment did he want?” Roxas says, his eyes on the crowd as a whole new crowd of guys walk in. All of them are patched in with the Unseen and he doesn’t look happy to see them.

I keep my voice low. “He has a private job, files from the morgue. I’m not sure why he’d want them but it’ll be a hour job to get what I want so who gives a fuck?”

Harbin shrugs. “The serial killer? He thinks he’s slick about it but we all know he’s obsessed with it.”

I pour another glass for myself, last one because my girl doesn’t like me stinking of this shit, and I shrug. “Probably knew one of the fucks who were taken out. Did you two know he has a fucking niece?”

Harbin grunts. “Not until tonight. He gets a phone call and freaks the fuck out. Won’t let anyone see her either. I think she’s deformed or some shit the way he was acting. Either that or she’s hot as fuck. Did you get an eyeful?”

I down the glass. “She was a kid. Younger than the Wolf by a few years at least. I didn’t get much of a look but unless your club is full of fucking pedophiles I don’t think he’s worried about them trying to fuck her.”

Roxas huffs. “Fuck. I was hoping I could piss him off by banging one of his kids. It would serve the old fuck right if we did.”

I don’t miss the we, not even a little.

I stand and shuffle out of the booth, jerking my head at one of the old drunks at the bar who calls out to me. I know him well enough and he’s made some good coin from my fights down at the Dive.

“I’ve got a good woman to get back to so I’m done for the night. I’ll call you both when I’ve finished the job and we can get our shit together for our friends.”

Harbin nods and downs his own glass but he doesn’t move to get up. Nah, they’re both in here for the long haul tonight. Fuck, they’re probably going to end up getting into one hell of a bar fight once I’m gone.

I’m almost sorry to miss it.

I’m about to leave when the door of the bar opens again and a whole stream of bikers walk in, all of them wearing Unseen patches but none of them local.

“Where the fuck is Coldstone?”

Harbin grunts and stares out at them all like he’s searching their faces. “Mississippi. They’ve been having all sorts of trouble with the Demons and the Serpents since their Prez was sent to prison.”

Prison.

Not something most Mounties have to worry about, the cops in the Bay are so fucking corrupt that no one ever really does time for the crimes they commit. There’s still a higher than average incarceration rate but everyone sent away is doing it for someone else. Big money to spend five to ten in prison for a crime lord and their lackeys. Big money.

Roxas scoffs and finishes off his glass. “He didn’t fucking do it. He was set up by Grimm motherfucking Graves to try to weaken our hold in Mississippi. They do big imports for us, a whole lotta money and King went down quiet so his club wouldn’t get fucking raided.”

I nod, seems like the type of bullshit MCs deal with but nothing I want to get involved with. As soon as you claim turf there’s always going to be some asshole trying to take it from you.

I stand up and finish my glass, leaving a pile of green to cover my tab and heading out.

Better to stay out of that shit.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Odie

I WAKE UP EARLY, my bladder close to bursting. When I climb back into bed, mon Monstre rolls over in the bed to scoop me into his arms. At first I think he’s awake, the hard length of him rubbing against my ass, but when I moan and push back he rumbles and murmurs in his sleep. His hips still roll against my ass, the rhythm of it like a drug to my system.

I need him.

I turn in his arms, my pussy so wet I’m dripping down my thighs as I slide down his body until I can grasp his pierced cock, the heat of it like a burning brand as I swallow him whole, the barbell dragging along my tongue.

His hips start to roll again and I know the moment he wakes up, his hand fisting in my hair and tugging me up and down, feeding me every inch of his dick while I gladly take it all.

“Fuck, baby girl, you treat your man so fucking good. You gonna swallow my come, baby? You gonna take what your man gives you?”

I moan deep in my chest. I want nothing more than to taste his come. I want it dripping down my chin while he pumps into the wet heat of my mouth, over and over again.

With every moan I watch as his eyelids get lower, the fire there stoking hotter and hotter until I think I’m going to combust, my pussy drenching through my panties until there’s a wet spot on his leg. My hips keep jerking and grinding down, my clit dragging along his leg until I think I might be able to come just from the friction.

“Don’t come, baby. You’re not allowed to come before I’m inside you. I want you clenching around my dick when you do.”

I whimper around him, the tears in my eyes from my gag reflex feeling all the more desperate.

He pumps into my throat two, three, four more times and then holds my head steady as he comes down my throat. I choke as I swallow it down, a little dribbling out from my lips where they’re stretched wide around his girth.

When he lets me go I collapse next to him, my face buried in the plush comforter for a second before he pulls me back into his arms.

“I want a taste of that pussy but you’re not allowed to come. Do you think you can do that, baby girl? Do you think you can hold on?”

My legs are already shaking. There’s no way I can stop myself from orgasming the second he touches my most sensitive flesh. I don’t want to disappoint him so I shake my head, ducking my eyes down to stare at his cock, still hard and flushed laying against his belly.

I want him inside me so badly my pussy is weeping.

“Okay, baby girl. I’ve got you.”

His fingers dip down into my pussy, careful not to touch my clit, and he wets them all, one after the other. Then I watch as he uses my juices to jerk off, his cock never really getting the chance to soften. I’m mesmerized by the sight, the smells of our arousals heavy in the air, and I groan as I bite my lip. I’m desperate to taste him again, to taste myself on him.

“Fucking perfect, baby girl. Get up here and ride me, squeeze that perfect pussy around me tight.”

He pauses long enough to slide on a condom, then he lifts me as though I weight nothing and helps me to straddle his hips. I’m not a small woman, curved from head to toe, but he makes me feel tiny and delicate. My skin flushes with pleasure as I guide his cock to my pussy, sliding him inside in one smooth stroke. He groans like he’s taken a hit and I grin, loving every second of his hands on my body and the power I have over him in this position.

My hips begin to move and I’m too far gone to last long, my legs shaking as I come and a gasp rips out of my chest as he grips my hips in both hands, holding me in place as he pumps into me.

As soon as my eyes flutter open again he grunts at me, “Touch yourself. Lemme watch you get off on my cock.”

I feel a little lightheaded, as though the low tone of his voice is lulling my mind into a dream, but my hand obeys him without me really thinking about it, rubbing and pinching at my clit until I’m screaming out his name and cursing violently in French, words I’ve never let past my lips before.

Still his hips pound into me, his feet planted into the mattress for leverage.

He grabs a fistful of my hair at the back of my head, jerking my body forward to meet his bruising kiss, his hips jerking up into me as he comes deep inside me, one hand still pushing my hips down to grind against him as he grunts into my mouth.

I desperately wish he wasn’t wearing a condom.

When he comes down from his high, slowly releasing the grip on my hair and softening up as he moves me, brushing his fingertips over the bruises he’s left behind on my soft skin as a silent apology. I don’t need it though. I’m in love with the idea of pressing against them later, feeling a little pain as a reminder of how much this man loves me.

I want to leave some of those bruises on him too, to leave him marked up as belonging to me.

He deals with the condom and then pulls me into his chest and strokes back my hair, humming under his breath as I lay there listening to his heart beat. I can hear it, steady and strong, and it’s beating for me just as mine beats for him.

“I have a job to do today. I’ve been thinking about it all night and I think you should come with me to do it.”

Oh. That’s new.

I push up from his chest to look down at him, my hair falling like a curtain over us both. “You would take me on a job? I’d love that, mon Monstre.”

He rubs his chin a little, the scruff there that he always shaves the moment he gets up like a shadow. “It’s not going to be a blood-soaked job and it’s not going to be anything dangerous. If we’re together I think we’d have a better chance.”

I don’t know what any of this means but it doesn’t really matter if I do. He’ll protect me, no matter what. “Of course. I can wear those new jeans out… or maybe the dress?”

He grunts and pulls my face down for another blistering kiss, his teeth tugging on my lips. “Not the dress. I have other plans for it, the jeans are better. No heels though, baby girl, just in case we need to get out of there quickly.”

Again, I don’t understand it. “Should I bring my gun? Or one of my new knives?”

He smiles at me and rubs a thumb over my bottom lip, still a little abused from his teeth and the way he fucked my mouth with rawness and utter abandon. “You should always have them on you, baby girl, but I’ll make sure you don’t need to use them. That’s my job.”

I’ll have to wear a jacket to cover them, the jeans ruling out my thigh holster for the gun. I prefer not to have things around my waist when I paint or cook and when I said this to him mon Monstre had immediately bought me the alternate options. Who knew there were so many places on your body you could hide weapons?

I’m excited about going out together. Watching him work is a joy and one I don’t get to do so often… not without a concussion or the terror of being kidnapped.

“You don’t have to come, baby girl. No frowning.”

I blink at him and concentrate on smoothing out my face. “I didn’t mean to. I was just thinking about your list. I definitely want to come help today.”

He coaxes my back down onto his chest, his fingers threading through my hair as he plays with the long strands. “Don’t think about it. It’s my list to worry about, your only worries are about painting and finding new recipes to try out. No bread.”

I giggle. He’s still traumatized from my bread breakdown and I’m not sure he’ll ever get over it. “No more bread. Maybe I should start making cakes and pies. French pastry, if you’d like to try?”

He smiles and pats his perfect abs, not an ounce of fat on him. “You cook it and I’ll eat it, baby. In-between eating you, that is. Alright, let’s get that perfect ass of yours moving. We’ve got a morgue to rob.”

WE GET up and ready quickly, skipping breakfast altogether because mon Monstre promises me coffee and bagels in the car on the way down there. American bagels are delicious, something he brings home to me often, and the fact that he remembers these little things for me is the reason I love him.

The scowl on his face as he helps me out of the car when we arrive at our destination, and the way he curves his body around mine like a shield as we walk, is another reason.

I rest my head on his shoulder, pretending to be upset just as he asked, and the solid plane of his chest presses against my ear. The sheer size of him has my knees weak, my heart pounding, and my soul waiting to be devoured whole.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, directing us into the large building. It’s cold enough that I’m glad he’s holding me, and a startled sort of quiet takes over the room as we make our way over to the front desk.

There aren't many people here but I can feel their eyes on me keenly so I bury my face even further into mon Monstre’s shoulder and pretend to sob silently, my body trembling delicately. I can’t go too far overboard with it because, even knowing it’s a farce Illi will lose his cool.

Flip my shit, he’d warned me earlier.

“Can I help you?” the woman at the desk asks, her voice just a little hesitant.

Illi moves me in his arms a little so he can pull some papers out of his pocket. “We got a call about identifying a body. It’s my girl’s brother, here’s the photo.”

I hear them shuffling things around and then the woman speaks again. “I’ll have to call the medical examiner. We’ve already had this person identified, I’m not sure who called you.”

Mon Monstre shrugs. “We came all the way down here, we’re not leaving until she’s seen him.”

There’s more shuffling and then I hear the clip-clop sound of her heels on the tiles as she walks away. I keep the shaking up, there are cameras and other witnesses, and Illi ducks his head to murmur in my ear, “Great job, baby girl. Nearly there.”

“Chantel is right, Mr Fields was identified this morning. Please, follow me. I have some information on grief counseling that you can access if you or your wife need it.”

I pull away from Illi enough that I can walk beside him a little easier as we follow the man. My eyes are stinging and I swipe at my cheeks as if there are tears to wipe away. I don’t want to disappoint mon Monstre by not giving this charade my all.

He squeezes my hand gently and warmth fills my chest at the silent praise.

We’re walked through the long hall, the medical examiner walking calming before us but there’s a twitch to his smile as he ushers us into a room. I keep my face full of sorrow, forcing myself not to look around for cameras though I know we’re being watched.

Mon Monstre waits until the door closes before speaking, “Disappear. You don’t need to be seeing what we’re after.”

The medical examiner cringes a little and glances up into the corner of the room. “I can just leave you here, there’s security—”

“Taken care of. We’ve got time to get it and get out so disappear, Fletcher.”

He glances up again and then turns to leave, his hands jittery. When the door is closed firmly behind him I murmur, “He doesn’t seem trustworthy.”

Mon Monstre moves over to the computer by the large desk, sitting down and getting out his phone. “He’s not… not unless you’ve got shit on him and I have a whole lot of shit on the freak. Let just say he and his family enjoy alternate sources of protein.”

Protein?

I’m not sure I want to know.

“Yeah, dipshit, I’m in. What do you need to get into the system or whatever… I don’t fucking know what you call it… I don’t speak perverted, virgin who lives in basements so you’ll have to fucking translate… if you start talking about your dick right now I’ll drive over there and filet your entire fucking body.”

I hide a smile behind my hand at his words, the phone propped up to his ear by his shoulder as he types away at the computer. There isn’t much else in the room to look over, no filing cabinets or even a wastepaper basket to rummage through.

Finally mon Monstre pulls the phone away from his ear and switches it to speaker phone. “Tell me when you find the shit.”

There’s a cackling laugh down the line and then a voice, younger than I imagined the hacker to be, and very sarcastically says, “You know, for the right price I’d have done this for you without the road trip. How much money is this little vengeance mission costing you, man?”

My stomach hollows out a little at the thought but mon Monstre doesn’t flinch. “Like I give a fuck about the cost, I’ll never run out of work in the Bay.”

I need to find a job.

Or something to help contribute. I’ve been feeling guilty at the extra costs of food and art supplies already but to know he’s having to pay for help to get through his list? No. No, I can’t just let that happen.

I will never be a burden to this man.

Mon Monstre glances up and frowns at the look on my face, snarling into the phone and cutting the hacker off, “Watch your fucking mouth, dickhead, or I really will come carve you up.”

I force a smile and wave a hand at him, murmuring softly, “It’s fine, mon Monstre. I’m happy to watch you work.”

There’s silence for a moment and then, “Holy shit, is that her there now? Fuck, the accent is hot as fuck. Maybe I need to find me a French girl if they all look and sound like her.”

I see the shift take place over mon Monstre’s face, from Illi to the Butcher of the Bay. A shiver runs up my spine. It’s like looking a feral beast in the face as it sizes you up, picking the best place to feast on first, but I don’t feel fear.

I feel worshiped.

“You will treat her with respect, Coyote.”

No threat.

No swearing or calling him names, just those seven words muttered down the line as the Butcher of the Bay stares at me like he wants to tear apart the entire room, pile everything up, and then start a fire so big and out of control the entire city burns with it.

There’s a pause and then a more subdued hacker says, “I’ve found your files. They’re… more fucked up than our usual brand of psycho.”

I smile and watch as mon Monstre comes back, a little more calm now his acquaintance has backed off. He’s definitely not a friend. The underlying violence in Illi’s reaction tells me that for sure.

“There’s a printer in the room, yeah? I’ll have it all printed there for you to take if you read me the codes for it.”

Illi frowns down at the phone and then glances around. “It’s not in this room. Send it to me and I’ll do it at home, we need to get out of here.”

The line is quiet for another minute and then Coyote laughs manically. “You have a computer at home and a fucking printer? Well, I’ll be damned. I assumed the big old dusty warehouse barely had running water, this is a revelation.”

I giggle quietly. Not at his jokes, because they all seem to be at the Butcher’s expense, but at the fact that no one really seems to know mon Monstre.

No one but le Loup

She saw through the man he is out on the streets, the one who kills without remorse and takes care of business no matter who he’s facing, and she saw the loyal and brutal man inside.

I miss her already.

“Come on, baby girl. We’re done here.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Illi

I CONVINCE Harbin and Roxas to come to the warehouse in my Mustang because their motorbikes are too loud for the work we have for tonight. The Coyote's work on the cameras has cost me a fucking fortune but it's worth it. We know the schedule the Mecedo cartel have been keeping so tonight's job has been planned down to the fucking minute.

Roxas tells stupid jokes the entire way and Harbin looks ready to throw himself out of the fucking car just to get away from him.

“How are your kids?”

Roxas groans and tips his head back against the basket and Harbin pegs him with a look. “They’re good. Going to school again, it’s been months since their mom sent them. Smart kids. Too fucking smart to be growing up in the club.”

Roxas scoffs. “He’s been making plans to run off with them. He wants to find a quiet, podunk town somewhere and live a white-picket life. Dumbass.”

I glance over at Harbin but his face is set in stone. Fuck. “Getting them out of the Bay isn’t a terrible idea. Where are you looking?”

His jaw clenches and finally he says, “Coldstone. Mississippi.”

That a fucking long way away. I don’t say it but Roxas has no issue poking the damn bear. “Missi-fucking-ssippi. He wants to crawl home on his belly like he couldn’t fucking handle the Bay.”

I peg him with a look in the mirror because I need both of their heads in tonight but apparently this is a fight they’re both fucking peachy about having in front of me.

“It’s about my sons, not about me or the club. I don’t give a fuck if the Boar would love nothing more than seeing the back of me. Coldstone is quieter, better for kids. I have cousins in the MC there and seeing King’s son has made me consider it more. He turned out just fucking fine there without a mom around. Name one kid living under the Boar’s roof that hasn’t got a fucking drug problem or been in lock up by the age of sixteen?”

Roxas shrugs, looking out the window with his special brand of nonchalance. “I grew up in a shitty little podunk town and saw a whole fucking heap of kids overdose. That shit is everywhere, don’t fucking run off and use it as an excuse.”

Harbin’s jaw sets and I make the decision that right now, in my fucking precious car, is not the right time for this argument.

If they break any part of my Mustang in their anger I will gut them both, friendship be fucking damned.

“We gotta keep an eye out in the woods here too, make sure we don’t have the fucking Devil creeping up on our asses.”

It works like a charm, both of them zipping their shit up tight to focus on the real danger in the conversation and Mississippi ain’t it.

“The Devil? As in the true fucking psychopath Morningstar? Why the fuck would he be here? I did not sign up for him, man.” Roxas says, leaning forward in his seat to look out of the windshield like that’ll somehow save him from the underworld's greatest boogeyman.

I shrug like it doesn’t matter when I know for fucking sure it does. “I did some recon up here a while back, saw the bike and thought I had to be fucking dreaming but then, sure as shit, Morningstar walks out of the treeline.

Harbin curses under his breath, a long stream that ends in what sounds like some holy shit I don’t have any use for.

I didn’t know he believed in that shit.

“God ain’t helping you face the Devil, man, even he doesn’t want to go head to head with that psycho. Fuck. Is there any other way we can get Mecedo and his guys? Any other location that doesn’t have the fucking Devil walking around?”

I shrug. “If there is one, I haven’t found it yet. This place is a sure thing and they’ll be here for a stock take tonight. Morningstar isn’t helping them, he does horror shows and mass murders not running around as a cartel bitch-boy.”

Harbin grunts under his breath again and shrugs. “There’s a first time for everything. What the fuck would be hanging around in the forest that he’d care about anyway? Maybe he hides his own stash there and now the cartel is on his turf. We could be walking into a whole fucking pile of bullshit we don’t need on our plates.”

True.

But Odie is worth it.

“If you two are backing out lemme know now, I’ll drop you off at the next rest stop.”

Harbin casts me a look that’s all sorts of insulted and pissed. “Fat chance, asshole. Just because we’re concerned about being identified by our DNA alone for being his next victims doesn’t mean we’re pussies.”

Roxas chuckles in the backseat, putting both of his hands behind his head as he tips his back back and lounges there like a king. “I’m not afraid to die. Fuck, I’ve lived the life of twelve men in my time, no fucking regrets. Wait, I’ll miss tag-teaming Juliette. Fuck, the titties on that woman… I’ll miss those.”

Harbin grunts and rubs a hand over his face like he’s in pain but the smirk is there. I can’t deal with either of them like this, not at fucking all.

“I don’t need to hear about her titties, dickhead. Get your head back into the game, I have a cartel to gut.”

They both snicker at me under their breath like this is some big fucking joke and when I peg Harbin with a look, because he’s the one I expect to be fucking serious right now, he shrugs and says, “Dumb, deaf, blind, or thinking about the best titties on the planet, my head is always in the fucking game. Nothing to fucking worry about, the cartel scum are done.”

WE STASH the Mustang in the same place as I did last time, walking the perimeter slowly with our guns already drawn, silencers screwed in and cigarettes in our mouths. They can’t smell them from this far away and although I’ve been thinking about quitting for my girl, I haven’t made the plunge yet.

A man’s allowed three vices.

Whiskey, cigarettes, and a good woman.

Okay, so my motto used to be pussy but I’d never disrespect her like that, she’s more than that perfect, wet pussy between her long legs.

It’s a fucking great pussy though.

I need to get my head back into what I’m here to do but, fuck, she’s definitely my vice. My addiction. The one thing I’ll always kill and die for.

“Stop thinking about her. The dreamy look in your eyes makes me want to fucking hurl,” Roxas murmurs, and I shove him away from myself.

Harbin shoot us both looks, like we’re rowdy fucking children, and I flip him the bird. Motherfuckers, the both of them.

When the warehouse comes into view I send a text through to the Coyote, yet another pile of cash being handed over to the cocky little fuck for tonight’s help.

I’m probably his only client these days and he’s going to retire on my money alone, unless he has some drug problem I don’t know about eating all of this green up.

He texts back straight away and the alarm goes off immediately. It doesn’t have a sound, nothing that would alarm any motorists down on the highway or any locals, but the front day bursts open straight away and three guys come running out so I know the silent internal alarms are flashing.

I take out two of them and Harbin deals with the third.

Roxas starts muttering under his breath, pissed he’s losing that dumbass game of his, and we wait for anymore takers, anymore henchmen who might come running to find out why the hell the alarm is going off.

Surprise, fuckers.

There isn’t anyone else for an entire minute so I make the call and we move in, snapping the masks over our faces. We’re not worried about being seen, fuck no, I’m worried about some noxious chemicals. They’re cooking meth here, a whole fucking lab of the shit, and most of the ingredients are poisonous in their raw form.

I’ve learned that in my time with D’Ardo.

The entire warehouse is full of a hazy smoke and through the masks it’s impossible to see right. I’ve studied the floor plan enough to know where I’m heading even without being able to see but that doesn’t fucking help me if one of the cartel jumps the fuck out at me.

We need to get to the mezzanine floor, where Mecedo stands overhead and watches his minions produce. Crime lord dickheads love that shit, D’Ardo does it in his party shed at the docks. I guess a taste for watching comes with the ego they have, the god complex because they have some power.

They don’t realize the higher you climb on that fucked up throne the bigger the target you really are. I’ve always known true power is being about to look at that goddamn throne and have the power to kill anyone on it but never take it for yourself.

I take out two more and I hear a fight break out behind me but I have to trust that Harbin can fucking see well enough to kill the fuckers.

We don’t have time to waste. Mecedo and his men will be here soon.

We should’ve run an alarm test before we came out here but I didn’t want them getting suspicious there was someone in their system and losing my edge. I don’t know if the smoke is from them or if they’re destroying evidence in case the authorities show up.

Clearly, they know fucking nothing about the Bay.

I make it to the stairs and by the fourth step I’m above the smoke and can see what the fuck is actually happening down there. Roxas is grappling with some guy in a full hazmat suit while Harbin is still trying to find the staircase. The smoke is getting thicker but I can’t see where the fuck it’s even coming from.

I do see two men coming up on Harbin from behind and I throw a cleaver at one of them. I’m too far away to kill him but it gives Harbin the chance to turn around and finish the job.

What a fucking mess.

I move the rest of the way up the stairs and when I get to the top I find a guy crouched behind a fucking desk like a pussy.

"Don't kill me! I'm not here willingly!"

Too late.

His body drops to the ground, his throat slashed open and blood pouring out everywhere, and there's nothing left inside me to feel guilty about it even if he was innocent. I doubt it and I'm not getting stabbed in the back by some asshole pretending he's a victim in this shit. If they're here, they're dead... one way or another.

I walk along the top level and start picking off the rest of the cartel men, all of them crouched behind shit like that'll save them. I use my throwing knives, I’m more accurate at a distance with those and I make note of where the fuck they are so I can finish the job once I’m back down there. When I get to the end I find the tank that the smoke is pouring out of on the other side of the warehouse. It's below me but to get down there I'd have to walk back down the stairs and make my way across the smoke-filled warehouse without tripping over something or being taken out by some cartel trash hiding out. Fuck knows what it's actually got inside it but there's no way of plugging it from here.

Except.

I jog back over to the dead guy and grab his feet, dragging him along the top floor until I get above the tank again. Roxas makes it up the stairs, sweating and wiping his forehead around the gas mask. There's blood on his hands that smears everywhere but who gives a fuck about a little blood?

I tip the body over the edge and the dead guy lands over the hole in the tank, plugging it enough that there's only wisps of the smoke making it out around him.

I hope the thing doesn't blow, we should get the fuck out of here before it has the chance, and as I turn to say as much to Roxas the door opens again and gunfire starts up again.

Harbin's down there by himself.

Roxas takes off at a sprint and I grab the last of my knives, already aiming as I run up behind him.

I don't want Mecedo dead though.

I need him and his bodyguards alive and trussed up like fucking turkeys in my workroom. I need to know exactly how far I can take this with Odie and just how much involvement she needs in this list of mine to feel safe and whole again.

I can't let Harbin die for that shit though.

I get to the top of the stairs and a knife comes flying at me as well. If my life has taught me nothing else, it's that I'm not afraid of catching some steel between my eyes. I push the golden goddess waiting for me back home out of my mind and start throwing the knives back, mostly aiming for their legs.

Roxas lets out a shout and I stop shooting long enough to see him charge at them, Harbin coming in hot behind him and dragging two of the men to the ground.

I take the stairs three at a time to get down to them but by the time I get down there Roxas is beating one of them to a pulp and Harbin is tying two of the others up.

"I need him alive, man." I remind him but the biker just goes to fucking town on him, smashing his teeth in and crushing his ribs with his knees.

"I fucking hate cartel assholes." He pants when he finally lets the guy go, standing and stomping on his dick just to watch the guy squeal through the blood he’s coughing up and choking on.

I take stock of what's happening, of who's here bleeding at our feet and who's already fucking dead. There's an extra guy still alive, not one of the guys who took Odie so I slit his throat and watch as his blood sprays out and soaks his boss. Mecedo doesn't flinch, his eyes defiant as he glares up at me. I crouch down to wipe the blade off on his suit, smirking at him just to fuck with him a little.

"The Jackal sent you? I told him I didn't send the bikers after his drugs." he says, his lip curling.

I grab him by the throat and squeeze, letting out just enough of my anger to get through this moment without fucking gutting him right here.

The death back home will be sweeter.

"No one sent me. I'm here for something personal, something you can't talk your way out of. Fuck, I wouldn't give up your death for fucking anything."

I let him go and step away, finally noticing that Harbin is bleeding. His arm is missing a fucking chunk and blood is pouring out like a bitch all over the fucking place. I throw a tourniquet from my kit to him and he snaps it into place, pulling the cord to tighten it with his teeth.

"Cartel scum. Nothing fucking worse," he spits out, kicking Mecedo in the gut.

He's fucking savage when he gets injured, even fucking lightly. I've only seen it once before and I saw him thumb the shooter’s eyes out and crush them under his fucking boot. It's one of the reasons I get along so well with him.

We're both a little unhinged when it comes to death.

“Do you want them dead now? Fuck, I’m in the mood for squealing drug runners. They always break so fucking good.”

Mecedo stares up at Roxas like he’s some dirty biker and being in the cartel is a much more noble line of work.

Piece of filth.

“Nah, I need them alive for now. I have a very specific plan for their deaths.”

Roxas nods and holds out his hand. This is the part that’s going to hurt way more than an open wound ever could.

I hand him the keys to my Mustang.

“If you so much as fucking dent it I’ll carve out your fucking spleen and mail it to your mother.”

He tips back his head and roars with laughter, all joy and riding the high of winning out over dozens of men. That shit never gets old. Fucking never.

Then we head back to my warehouse.

Back to my workroom where the fun really begins.

When I arrive home I get the guys to help me move the cartel to my workroom before they leave, Roxas being a total dick about my fucking car.

Stupid bikers.

I find my girl covered in paint and smiling at her work, happy and content in the home I’ve built for her. Fuck, I didn’t even know I was making this place for her but fuck if it isn’t true.

“Bonjour, mon Monstre. How was your night?" she says in French, slow enough that I can catch onto what she’s saying. I’m getting better at it but I’m most fucking definitely not fluent yet but fuck. The words coming out of her sound like fucking foreplay, like she’s desperate for my cock to rearrange her organs for a few hours but she’s busy with her oils and canvas.

The woman was fucking made for me.

Put on this Earth just for me to find and protect, teach and fuck and own. She’s mine for all of time the same way I’m now hers too.

I have to remember the men tied to chairs in my workroom, this is not the fucking time for my dick to take over the fucking conversation, no matter how badly I want her.

"I had a busy night, baby girl. I have something to show you downstairs."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Odie

I'M PAINTING something dark and surreal when mon Monstre arrives home for the night. My eyes are sore and my head is a little hazy, the long hours of working in a daze taking their toll. I set down my brushes and paints with a smile, lifting the little stray tendrils of my hair that have escaped the ponytail away from my face.

“Bonjour, mon Monstre. How was your night?" I say in French. Now that he’s trying to learn I’m conscious of speaking it to help him.

He shucks off his jacket and I see the blood and gore still streaking his arms but he doesn't move towards the bathroom, something he always does straight away. It doesn't matter that I know all about his work and the life he leads when he goes out every night, he never comes to me dirty.

"I had a busy night, baby girl. I have something to show you downstairs."

I frown a little but I nod. Of course, whatever he needs me to do, I'll do it. His gruff demeanor still worries me though.

I step forward but he holds out a hand to stop me. "Wash up, baby, and throw on one of my sweaters. I'm taking you down to my workroom. I've found Mecedo and some of his men. I need you to see them, make sure I've got the right psychopath, and then I'll deal with them."

My stomach bottoms out.

Mecedo. His men. Here, at my safe place, the place that put me back together, the home I know is mine forever.

Illi grimaces. "I know, baby, I don't want them here either but I'm not taking you out there. I need you safe here and I need them all having the worst fucking death I can give them. That happens here, in the basement where all of my tools are. They'll be dead before I come to bed, I promise you, I’m not going to have them alive downstairs in our house for long.”

I nod slowly, I trust him with far more than my life, and I rush to the bathroom to wash the paint away from my hands. I pick out a sweater I don't love, one I'll be okay with throwing out the second I come back upstairs in case it's... well, in case I lose my mind the second I get down there and kill Mecedo myself. I grab my knife just in case.

I know mon Monstre would never try to stop me from getting my own vengeance. I remember the pride in his face when he found Lord Devareux dead on the carpet back when he rescued me.

When I step out of the bathroom, I find Illi still standing in front of the door. He sees the knife and nods at me. "Good choice, baby girl. Fuck, I want to hold you right now but I'm not going to get this shit on you and I want to put these assholes in the ground already. I don't want them here either."

I smile at him, soft and warm because this intensity and anger is for me. He's always brought his work home and never cared about it before. With the extra security he's got set up, I know that I'm perfectly safe here but he's not worried about me physically. It's my mind and my heart he's trying to protect.

I’ve come a long way so there’s much further to fall now.

"Lead the way, mon Monstre. I will always follow you."

He smiles, a genuine one that softens his fierce features. "Baby girl, you follow no one. Let me wash my hands so I can at least hold your hand down there. Fuck, I want you in my arms but that will have to do."

So we take the stairs together, his hand warm in mine and the whole way down he works on his French, low murmured words shared between us like a guarded secret. It's only when we get to the bottom of the second set of stairs that the warmth and humor dries up from him, leaving behind the man they call the Butcher.

He’s harder, none of the man I know left in his face, but I still love this version of him. How can I not, when he protects me so fiercely?

We step into the large, sparse room, the only room in the warehouse I’ve never before stepped foot into. His workroom is cold and bare, the fans whirring softly as the cooling unit works overtime to keep this place icy cold. The walls are lined with tools and knives, bone saws and power tools. It looks like the playroom of a serial killer and, well, I guess it is.

It doesn't change a thing in my mind.

I step forward carefully and Illi murmurs to me, "Watch your step, the floors have just been washed down."

I glance down to see the little drain in the center of the floor. Handy.

It takes all of the strength in me to look up and into the faces of the men mon Monstre has tied to chairs. His palm is warm on my back even through the layers I'm wearing and I draw all the strength I need from him.

He's here, he loves me, he'd die to keep me safe.

All four of the men who were there the day my father sold me for his debts are here. The woman who showered me and took the photos isn't but I'm not worried.

I know she will meet her fate and vengeance will be served mon Monstre.

Every one of the men look at me but their eyes give nothing away. I'm sure this isn't the worst situation they've been in, the drug business isn't for the faint of heart, but I know with every fiber of my being that this is the last few moments of their lives. That all of the evil they have brought into the world, all of the death and pain, it all was leading up to this moment.

"Do you want to kill them, baby girl, or am I doing it for you? You can head upstairs if you want to, go paint or cook something."

I shake my head. "I need to be here. I need to see it with my own eyes."

Mecedo shakes his head and leans forward, the ropes straining, so he can spit on the ground at our feet. "¡Váyanse a chingar mucho a su chingada puta madre no son nadien! "

It means nothing to me, nothing at all, but Illi's face sets into a cold fury. "You'll be cleaning that up with your tongue before I kill you, cunt. If you want a quick death you'll beg Odie for forgiveness."

"¿Pedirle perdón a una babosa que ni su familia la quiso? ¡No me hagas reír!"

Illi grips my elbow and gently tugs me over to the corner where I'll have the perfect view but I should be able to stay clear of the gore once he gets to work.

"All of this over some puta pussy. Pathetic. You'll find your end soon... men who lose their head always do."

Illi chuckles under his breath, picking up a blowtorch and lighting it with practiced ease. The sound of the gaslit flame is loud in the silence of the room and all four of the captive men instantly turn to stone.

I can see the sweat on Mecedo’s brow.

A smile curves across my lips. Good. I want him terrified. I want him shaking in his boots over the death that mon Monstre, the Butcher of the Bay, is about to give him.

He deserves every second of it.

Illi slowly walks towards Mecedo, the blowtorch still throwing out that fire, and not for a second does it fail. "I've been doing this job a long fucking time. I've killed a lot of men, most of them jobs, but some were personal. I've learned all about the human body, how to break it, how to make it hurt so fucking bad that all of the truth in the world falls out."

He gets right up to Mecedo and holds the torch right up to his face, not quite burning him yet but with the flick of his wrist the pain will begin. "Did you know it takes 600 degrees to melt human fat? The skin slides away easy enough before then but to take out that gut of yours I'd need a lot of heat. Well, this blowtorch can heat up to 2,900 degrees. I ordered in especially for you, Mecedo. I've been waiting for this day for too long."

My stomach is a whirling mess but my mind is clear. I think the smell will be the thing to force me out of the room, something like that being too much for me but the thought of Illi torturing these men... no, I can sleep well with that thought tonight. I can sleep so peacefully knowing they're no longer walking this earth and hurting young girls like me.

"Baby girl, now is the time to leave. I'll bring you their hearts once it's done."

I nod and walk out, my feet slow and steady on the slick floor, and when I hear the screaming start, for a second I turn back.

Illi has the flame of the blowtorch up against Mecedo’s face, his eyeball nothing but jelly sliding down his cheek.

I swallow the bile and leave, a weight lifted from my chest and the night a little safer before me.

I wake up the next morning with mon Monstre naked and warm behind me, and four new jars on my bedside table.

MON MONSTRE KEEPS me in my training, coaxing me into joining him down in the gym most early evenings before he heads out for the day. I enjoy watching him train and it’s good to keep my own skills sharp. My confidence grows daily this way, especially the day I finally use one of le Loup’s choke holds on him and I take him down on the mat. He grunts as he lands and my entire body shakes with the effort it takes me to complete the maneuver, his body being three times my size at least.

I’m sure he’s only humoring me and there’s a million different ways he could have gotten out of it but the grin he gives me has me feeling like the most amazing woman on Earth.

I come up from the gym, still a little sweaty, and Illi stomps up the staircase behind me. He heads straight to the bathroom while I wander into the kitchen for water. I forget it entirely when I see the little manila folder on the table, the one we'd stolen last night.

Curiosity killed the cat, but hopefully it'll be a little kinder to me.

I sit down at the table, flipping open the file, and the first thing I see is the photos of the corpses. There's crime scene photos and ones from the autopsy. They're disturbing but I can't look away, the blank eyes of the dead woman drawing me in.

She has a lily growing out of her chest.

"Don't look, baby girl. I don't need you having fucking nightmares from that shit."

I sift through the papers slowly, reading about her missing organs. "Why do you have this? Is it someone you know?"

He shakes his head, opening up the fridge and pulling out water for us both. I finally remember my thirst and drink half of it in one go.

"It's a job. I had to get the file to get backup for another job I'm working on. Fuck knows why the Boar wanted it but whoever is killing those women is fucking sick."

That means a lot, coming from a man who kills and butchers his victims the way mon Monstre does. I don't know that he kills women though, I've never heard of him killing anyone who isn't a bad man.

I can't imagine him killing an innocent woman. Is there any such thing in the deep dark depths of the Bay?

"The man killing them, he enjoys it. He gets sexual pleasure from removing their organs." I say, flipping through the rest of the paperwork.

Illi shrugs. "It's almost always about getting off. Everything in this world is about power. Having it and taking it from others."

I shiver. The notes at the end of the file chilling me to the bone.

Every victim has been left with a Bible verse. There are similar themes but no real patterns have been found yet. None of the verses seem to relate to the victims or the perpetrator, but to a third party. A man the verses identify as 'the Devil'.

"Fanatics are terrifying people, mon Monstre. Those who can remove themselves and their own desires from the act and say it is a higher being, they are the most dangerous of all."

Illi finishes off his bottle of water and then mine, a frown still on his face. "What do you know of fanatics? What did you see in there that I didn't?"

I point out the paragraph and his face sours. "We don't need that shit around here. We already have a gang war and a biker stand-off starting. Add Jesus freaks to that list and we're all going down."

I close the file and lean back in my seat, tipping my head back until he kisses me, slow and deep with a fist in my hair and a hand curled around my throat. This lust-fueled roughness in him is my new favorite thing in our relationship. He's found the way to treat me with utter reverence but also to use my body as if he owns it completely.

He does own me.

“Stop thinking about that shit, baby girl. I’m about to head out for the night but I could be persuaded to stick around for another hour.” His voice is pitched in a low drawl, his breath against my neck making a shiver run down my spine.

However he wants me, he can have me.

I move to stand up, murmuring to him about a shower because I’m still a little sweaty from the workout but when I try to move away from him he growls at me, a rumbling noise straight from his chest like I’m displeasing him.

I don’t like that at all.

I’m here for his pleasure, to serve this man however he may need because his pleasure always brings me joy and ecstasy.

He turns me around to face him and then takes a step back, his eyes hot as he looks over me approvingly, as if I'm standing here in lace and pearls and not the sweaty workout clothes.

“Strip. Gimme that ass bare and fucking perfect for me to sink my teeth into.”

My hands are steady as I slowly slip the sweatpants from my body and then the tank top lands on the ground. Mon Monstre’s eyes follow my every move but the only thing he does while he watches me is breathe.

It’s as if he’s under some spell I’m casting, as if my body and my soul have lulled him into some trance and now he’s mine to possess.

For the first time, I thank god for these looks of mine.

I turn away from him bending over to undo the laces of my shoes to get them off and his restraint snaps. His hands grab my hips roughly and he pulls me back to grind his dick against my ass, hard enough that the air is knocked out of me.

I love it.

“Leave the shoes on, baby girl. I’m going to fuck you like this and you need the height.”

My pussy clenches at the rough tone of his voice. He sounds parched, like he wants to drink me up to quench his thirst but I also know he’ll never get his fill. He’s made that clear to me now and I'm so utterly thankful.

As he grinds his hips into me I push back, desperate for him to slide my panties aside and bury his cock into me.

He doesn’t.

Instead he drops to his knees and says, “Give your man a taste of what you’ve got, baby girl. I want your come running down my chin before I split you open.”

Then he buries his face between my thighs.

I want to shy away from him, conscious of the hour on the treadmill and mats we've just done but he leans back far enough to slap my ass, the sting making me gasp and moan, the sound drawing out of my chest in a long keening sound as he gets his lips and tongue back on me, teasing and sucking at my pussy.

In this position, I can't grind back on his face or rock my hips how I want to, the frustration building in me until I'm a whimpering mess, shaking and begging him to fuck me properly, to give me what I so desperately need.

I'm nearly sobbing when he finally lets go of my hips and stands up.

"You want more, baby girl? Tell me. Beg me for what you need."

He steps away from me and I turn to fall back to my knees at his feet. "Please, mon Monstre. Please fuck me. Please fill me up until the ache in my pussy stops hurting. Please come all over me."

His eyelids drop and the look he gives me from under them has my pussy dripping onto the floor, my panties still pushed to the side.

"On your feet, baby. As pretty as you are on your knees I need that pretty pussy wrapped around me tight as you come."

I practically scramble up and then he moves me over to the kitchen table, spreading me out across the surface and splitting my legs wide so I'm splayed out for him. Then he unzips his pants and grips the base of his dick, pumping it once, twice, three times until I'm begging him to use me. Use my body and give me everything he has.

Even after he slips a condom on, the piercing feels like heaven as he pushes in, dragging against my most sensitive walls and making me see blinding white light as I come, squeeze him tight. He grips my hips tighter, pulling my body further over the edge of the table until I'm balancing between his hands and the table precariously.

I don't feel unsteady, I feel safe and used as his hips move faster until he's pounding into me, abusing me in the most delicious way and when he comes with a roar it pushes me over the edge with him.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Illi

THERE’S STILL no leads for Alcatron and his cartel.

Night after night I go out looking for them but fucking nothing comes back. I’m starting to think that I’ll need to start calling in more favors with old friends, men who were built for blood and don’t like dealing with cartel at all.

Not my smartest idea but I need this list over with.

After yet another night of nothing, I order burgers to take home with me so my girl doesn’t have to cook. I could throw us together something but after my night I just want to shower, eat, and then fuck my girl, slow and deep and fucking hard, before passing out.

Neither of us are sleeping great and I know exactly what the cause is, besides Alcatron being a fucking ghost.

The paintings are killing me.

Killing the mood too, I can’t look at them and contain my rage enough to fuck her right. There’s no way I’m undoing all the progress she’s had by throwing her around the fucking bed and terrifying her, no matter how badly I want to push her around and make her beg for me. I can see in her eyes that she’s ready for whatever I give her but… something has me holding back. She’s not all the way there yet, no matter what she says to me.

If she flinches away from me right now I might fucking lose it, rage out and take to the streets with nothing but my cleavers and an insatiable need for blood.

Not worth it at all.

When I get back to the apartment I punch the code into the alarm, kicking the dirt from my boots and taking the stairs two at a time. I pause at the top, the sounds of music drifting through the closed door.

She never listens to music.

I unlock the door with the bag of food under my arm and a gun in my other hand, ready to unload my clip on whoever is in this fucking apartment with her if it isn’t one of my three friends. Can’t be any of them, I just saw the bikers and the kid is up at that big old school of hers.

No one is here.

But my girl is dancing around the kitchen wearing one of her new dresses, the skirt billowing out as she twirls and sings along to the song in French. Her hair is out, the blonde curls looking that ruffled sort of perfect she always manages to get it, and her feet are bare.

I quickly move to grab my phone and snap a photo but it comes out blurred, she’s moving too quickly to capture this moment for me.

Fuck.

I need this burned into my brain for all of fucking time because she’s perfect, every fucking inch of her is shining and joyful and just fucking happy.

My girl is happy.

She spots me as she turns again, lifting a long strand of hair away from her face as she beams at me like my own personal ray of brilliant sunshine. Fuck, I want to soak up those rays of hers, the heat and light of her exactly what my dark soul needs.

“Bonjour, mon Monstre.” She says, a flirty smile dancing around the corners of her lips. She stalks towards me, her hips swaying along with the music and I nearly go down to my knees for her. Just fucking drop down and beg for her to sit on my face until I’ve eaten my fill of her.

“Baby girl, I don’t know what happened but whatever it is, I’m fucking glad you’re happy.” My voice is rough, just a little too much emotion there for me to be completely comfortable, but that smile of hers just gets bigger at the sound.

“Something did happen, mon Monstre.” She looks nervous and flighty as she speaks, her hands moving a little too much as the sultry confidence melts away.

Fuck.

That’s not what I wanted my words to do to her and already I miss the mood she was in, the absence of it so fucking obvious now I’ve caught a glimpse.

When she bites her lip I growl at her, a deep rumble in my chest as I tug it out from between her teeth.

“Just get it out, baby girl. Tell me whatever’s upsetting you so we can go back to being happy. Lemme fix it.”

She grins and rolls her eyes. “I don’t need you fixing anything for me, mon Monstre. I just… I finished the painting.”

My eyes narrow at her and she nods in return. “I know. I know you told me to leave it alone but I had to get it out. I didn’t just paint Alcatron and his men either. I painted Maya too, to help you track her down. I know you were unhappy to miss her with the rest of the cartel. I have them all there for you. Hopefully it will make it easier for you to find them.”

She sounds so fucking proud of herself that I don’t have the heart to tell her I already have photos of them all. This way I’ll be able to double-check them, make sure we have the right targets and don’t miss anyone when I go hunting for her.

“Show me, baby. Show me who I’m bleeding out for you.”

She takes my hand and leads me over to the side of the couch. Her easel is set up so the painting is facing her favorite window, away from the rest of the room. I’m glad, I didn’t want their faces to ruin my moment with her earlier. Fuck, the joy that was there still has my chest aching so bad I wanna rub at my chest to shift the feeling.

I drop the bag of food on the dining table as we pass it and pull her more securely into my side as we walk. She’s still too nervous for my liking but at my touch some of the tension melts away from her.

I guess I have been too pissed off about this process for her. She must have known how pissed I’ve been, known that I’ve been teetering on the edge of burning the canvas before she had time to finish it.

I want her to have the healing that the process is giving her but fuck, knowing that’s what this is hasn’t made it any fucking easier. I’d take every last drop of her pain for her, bear it all and leave her whole and happy.

That’s my fucking mission from here out.

Keep her safe. Keep her happy.

Keep her in my fucking bed.

I lean back against the expansive glass window, her back pressed against my chest as she tucks her head under my chin. I breathe her in for one last second before I look at it, enjoying the moment of her in my arms, safe and whole and only moments away from being that shining girl again.

Then I open my eyes and look at the fucking painting.

She’s talented. Fucking incredible really, it looks almost like a photo but more… real. Three dimensional, the paint layered up until it’s coming off of the canvas at us both. If I just look at the colors and the images without thinking of the people behind them then fuck, it’s definitely a work of art.

I can’t separate them like that.

When I look at the entire thing and not the pieces of it, the rage starts all over again like a fist smashing its way into my chest and clenching around my heart, squeezing at it until I’m about to scream the fury out.

I keep my mouth shut.

I don’t need to scare her off, I just need to bear witness to this fucking thing with her right now. I just need to hold her and acknowledge that this shit happened to her. That these men took something away from her and now she’s taking it back from them.

She may want their hearts but this is the catharsis she really needs, even if it sends me off the fucking deep end.

“It’s done, mon Monstre. I’m done with it all. Our life together starts now.”

She turns her head and tips it so her lips can seek out mine. I tear my gaze away from the canvas and focus on her, kissing her long and deep until she’s squirming in my arms, shifting until her tits are pressed up tight against my chest and my dick is rock hard against her stomach.

“Good, baby girl. Forget them, they’re my problem now and as far as you’re concerned, they’re already dead.”

She smiles again, her eyes still shut and those lips of hers full and pouty from my kiss. I lean down to tug on her bottom lip with my teeth, sucking on it and swallowing her groans. “Dinner. Then I’m going to make you come so hard you pass the fuck out. That’s the way our life together needs to start.”

THE RESTAURANT IS a little hole-in-the-wall place, but in the way that the Bay does that shit. From the outside you wouldn’t even know they served food here, it looks like a meth lab, but on the inside it’s clean and warm, servers who can get you fucking anything you want but see and hear nothing that happens at the tables.

It’s like the Switzerland of the south side of the Bay.

I pick it on purpose. I’ve done jobs here before and the guy who owns it is happy enough to cover for me. Once upon a time, his wife caught the eye of some stalker. This asshole kept popping up wherever she’d go and pretty soon she stopped leaving her house, terrified he’d kidnap, rape, and murder her. That shit happens here all the damn time and when Frank caught wind of it he called me. He didn’t want the man taken out.

He wanted him butchered.

So now the Switzerland state of this place extends to anyone who isn’t me. That’s the real fucking secret to being the most feared man in the city, it’s about being the man all of the locals call when shit happens and knowing that the moment you handle their shit, they’ve got your back.

D’Ardo will never have the reach I do.

He doesn’t even realize it.

So I invite Maya to my city. I tell her I’m looking to buy and I need her to find me the perfect girl. I tell her I’ve bought before, the Coyote gets me a whole list of girls that D’Ardo has destroyed so I look legit. The list makes my rage stoke so fucking hot that it’s a struggle not to rage out and burn his fucking lair to the ground with him and his shitty little gang to the ground.

But tonight’s not about his death.

Tonight is something quieter, more subtle, but just as satisfying.

I take the private room with the booth, clapping Frank on the shoulder as he walks me through.

“How’s Antonia doing?”

He grins wide, all his teeth on show. “She’s perfect! We have two new grand babies, eight altogether now. Big family, as it should be.”

I nod and take my seat. He hovers for a second and then says, “I heard about your woman. Anything you need, you call. I’ve got my kids listening out at the tables. We’ll call if anything comes up.”

I grin and shake my head. “I appreciate it, man. Tonight is good though, another from my list.”

His face sobers up and he nods. “I wish you both the best.”

Then he leaves me to it, one of his sons coming over with a glass of whiskey and not a single word to me.

Everyone in the family saw what I did for their mom.

I’m sure the image of the stalker hacked to pieces flashes through their minds every time they see me. Fuck, it probably does every time they close their damn eyes. Normal people can’t hack that shit.

Good thing I’m not normal and thank fucking God my girl isn’t either.

I can’t think about her right now. Not until Maya gets here and is served the death she deserves.

I make my way through two glasses before she’s ushered in. I’m sure she has another one of her family waiting outside for her but I’d made it clear when I invited her here that I wanted her alone. I made out like I don’t trust anyone else.

I want the satisfaction of doing this face-to-face.

Quiet and calm.

Odie’s description was right, she looks like a sweet old lady. Butter wouldn’t melt and all that, but I know enough of her sins to be rock fucking solid in what I’m about to do.

“Señor D’Ardo, I’m sorry for being late.”

She’s not late, she’s actually fifteen minutes early but I force a smile. “No worries, I was enjoying a drink while I waited.”

She smiles back at me when I stand for her to take her seat, Frank holding it and helping her sit. She orders a tequila, still using that soft voice of hers like she’s such a fucking sweet, harmless thing.

She pulls a notepad and a tablet out of her bag, setting them on the table as she grabs a pair of glasses. “We should get right into this, yes? I know you are a busy man. Many businesses to run.”

I half-shrug, seeing through the bullshit. She’s here for more than just the job of finding me a girl. One of her sons might be missing but she has many others to assist. All of them are in the trafficking business. Girls, drugs, guns, she’s here to sell me a helluva lot more than unwilling pussy.

“I have a lot going on but I’m after something very specific. I know you’re the best at procuring very specific items.”

She nods and starts to shift the papers around, ready to take notes. The tablet will have a whole fucking catalog of girls on it, ready to show me once she’s narrowed the list down from my description. Too bad I have my own list.

Frank himself places the tequila down on the table, not once making eye contact. Maya doesn’t acknowledge him, just takes the shot like a fucking pro and motions for another. I start counting in my head, even as I speak.

“I’m after a blonde. Big blue eyes. I don’t want a starved woman, I want all the right curves. I want her to look like a million fucking dollars on my arm.”

She nods and scratches down notes in Spanish. I pause for a second, still counting down, and when I see her fingers start to tremble, I continue.

“I want her to be a painter, a forgotten and abused child. I want you to receive her as a bride for your dipshit son and for him to get pissed she’s not a virgin. I want you to take her photos in a shower and then sell her on to the Alcatron cartel for fucking big money.”

The pen drops and her hand comes up to clutch at her throat, the fiery poison spreading slowly through her body until she’s burning from the inside out. Her eyes flare wide as she gasps and looks over to me.

“You had to know… you had to know that someday, someone that you sold would fuck you over. You had to be waiting for the moment. I know you’ve made it a long way, too fucking long for my liking, but it ends here. You made her feel like a piece of meat, you handed her off to her rapists. Unfortunately for you, I found her. Brought her home, fixed her, made a list, and Maya, your time is up. Say hi to Mecedo for me when you get to hell. Fuck, he screamed so fucking perfectly for me.”

She coughs and blood sprays out of her mouth, the hacking sounds of her choking on it like a soothing melody to my soul. I should tape it for my girl, take it home for her to listen to, but she doesn’t really need it. The only thing she needs is the organ twisting and failing in Maya's chest right now.

Her eyes finally cloud over, her arms stop jerking and her body slumps against the table as it finally gives out. I sit there and wait, just to be sure her heart has stopped pumping before I move to prep what I need.

I’m not going to make a big fucking mess for Frank and his family to clean up, no way I’d disrespect them like that, but I’m also not taking her home with me. Nah, Odie’s had her safe space invaded too much in the last few months, I’ll do what I need to here.

I get the plastic sheet laid out and get the corpse on it, slicing open her chest and cracking the ribs. Fuck, I’ve done this enough times now that it’s like clockwork to get to the organ my girl deserves to have. It takes an hour and no one interrupts me. The sheet catches all of the blood and I roll her up in it once I’m done.

I call Frank when I’m ready to move her. He clears a path, gets his kids out of the way and I walk her through the back entrance and to my car without anyone seeing. Once she’s in my trunk and my tools are away, I wash my hands in the staff bathroom and check to make sure I’m clean enough.

Frank shakes my hand as I leave. “I’ll get the men out without a word. I’ll call the cops if need be, I’ve wiped the tapes already.”

I clap him on the shoulder. “Again, appreciate it, man. Anything you need, gimme a call.”

He smiles and waves me off.

I fucking love the Bay.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Odie

I CONTINUE to keep up my training even if it's hard to do without le Loup around. I miss her quiet nature and the way she'd grin at me when I get something right. I also can only practice the same things she's taught me and after a few months of the same routine, over and over again, I find myself getting bored. I could just give it up or push through it anyway.

Instead, I follow mon Monstre down to one of his sessions and watch him in action. I watch the way he holds himself when he strikes at the punching bag and where he sets his feet. I count how many repetitions he does of the circuit, how long he spends at each machine.

I aim for half of what he does, half the weight and half the reps.

Even that feels impossible but I try and after a few weeks I feel stronger, leaner, more capable of taking down any man that attempts to touch me. When we make love, I see mon Monstre taking notice of the changes in my body but not once does he comment, only stroking at the curves of mine that will never disappear while my appreciation of bread stays so high.

For a while I think that maybe he doesn't like me leaner, that maybe this strength I now have will be some sort of thing on the list of reasons he adores me that gets struck off, but then I see him biting his lip over my legs when I step out of the shower and I giggle.

I should never underestimate his love for me, no matter how my body looks.

He loved me starved and broken, of course he'll love me leaner and strong.

My favorite practice will always be our time together in the gun range. I've gone from fearing the power and finality of them to being so proficient in them that I can clean and assemble any of mon Monstre's collection. I know which ones will do the most damage, which ones will keep a death clean and which will blow a man to pieces.

My own collection of guns gets bigger.

When we're done shooting for the day he takes me back out to the mats, intent on walking me through all of the positions le Loup has taught me. I’ve been so bored with the routine that little things have started to slip.

He pulls my arms down until they’re in a better position. “You need to keep up with your practice, baby girl. Gotta stay sharp if we’re staying here.”

I smile up at him so wide my cheeks hurt but the smirk he gives me in return is full of lust and adoration. “I guess I do, mon Monstre. Are you going to help with that? Are you going to instruct me? Show me all of your tricks and tips to take a man's life? Le Loup showed me so much but I want to know how you do it, too.”

I get him onto the mat and use my thighs to trap his arms. He could break out of the hold, I'm sure of it, but he lays there and lets me manipulate him the way I'd have to if I were attacked again.

If the Jackal's man grabbed me again like he did that night I'd kill him without a thought, I could choke him out and aim my gun at the Jackal, killing the man who dared to betray mon Monstre, his oldest and most loyal friend.

When I finally move to let him up, Illi grabs my thighs and holds me still. His hands move along the hard muscle there, bunched up like this my legs look less feminine and more like the weapons I'm slowly turning them into.

I get a little self-conscious and try to move.

He growls at me with a frown, grabbing my workout tank and pulling me down until I'm draped over him. He kisses me brutally, all teeth and a hand snakes up into my hair to pull me until it hurts.

My pussy is instantly wet, like he's trained me to love his brand of violence.

He jerks my head back to speak to me, the words low and pissed off where they're murmured against my lips. "This is mine. The whole fucking lot of this body and this ass and those fucking tits are mine. You think anything it could change into will stop that? Nah, baby girl, you've got it all wrong in that perfect head of yours. It's fucking mine now and it's mine when you're all big and round with my babies and in fifty years when you’re gray and covered in wrinkles it's still mine. Don't you ever fucking forget it. I play for keeps and you're it."

My mouth is open, the pressure of his fist in my hair so strong I have to keep it that way, and so when he kisses me again it's a little wet and uncoordinated. It doesn't matter though and the tears that fill my eyes at his words don't matter either.

He flips us both over so he can fuck me on the mat, brutal and raw, until I remember that his heart beats for me and nothing will change that. When he pulls out again to come all over my pussy instead of inside it I whimper at him.

If I'm his, why won't he fill me up with his come? Fill my belly with these babies of his he keeps promising me?

I wait until he cleans me up with his shirt and lays back down with me before I bring it up, the high of my multiple orgasms making me brave enough to ask the question.

"There's no way on this Earth I'm worthy of having kids with you until my list is crossed off. No way I'm having you vulnerable and, fuck, hormonal with those men still out there. We can't start a family until they're all gone. Even the Jackal. D'Ardo would find out and come here himself to fuck with you. He's fucking... deranged about mothers. His own and any other woman who's had kids."

Oh.

I wasn't expecting that.

My chest feels as though it might burst open with pressure but my stomach feels like a void, an empty chasm now I know his reasoning.

"What if you can't kill them all? What if someone gets away?" I whisper, a lump forming in the back of my throat that makes it impossible to swallow.

He pulls me into his arms more fully, tucking my head up into his chest. "Don't you worry about that, baby girl. That’s my shit to deal with, your shit is to paint and to train and to... bake bread. Whatever you wanna do."

His hatred of my bread baking is still funny to me, the way he glares at the kitchen the moment he comes home to the smell of it.

He can't help eating it with me.

I stretch out my back like a cat, the aches and pains I feel are like an addiction. If it's possible to be both used and adored, then Illi has perfected that line with me.

Even with every inch of me aching, I know it's a feeling I know I'm going to crave for the rest of my life because the pain is a sweet and tender thing. His heart beats beneath my cheek, steady and sure, and I rub my face against him.

"I'm going to need to need this every fucking night, baby girl. I need you naked and in my arms, rubbing on me like a fucking siren and I'm going to need you to tell me that it's not going to change."

I smile at him, pushing my hair over my shoulder so it’s out of our way. He growls at the move, pushing it back so he can thread his fingers through it.

"Right. Let's get the fuck up before I decide to stay home and fuck you for hours instead of getting to that list of mine."

WITH THE AMOUNT of work I put into my art, I start to run out of canvases and oils on a weekly basis.

It’s often enough that I begin getting better at using mon Monstre’s computer and ordering things online.

I don’t always paint the cartel or the trauma I had from that time of my life. Sometimes I paint old memories of French countryside. Sometimes I paint sunflowers and they're so bright and cheerful that my heart can’t help but swell in my chest with that bittersweet joy that comes from looking at them.

Sometimes I need to be reminded that the world outside this apartment still exists and even though it has not treated me well, there is joy there and beauty and all of the things that makes life worth living for.

Most of the time, I remember that I have mon Monstre and he will always be my reason.

The amount I'm spending on art supplies starts to make me feel guilty, knowing that mon Monstre isn't taking on jobs at the moment because he's too busy trying to finish his list, so I start looking into what I can do to slow down how much I have to buy.

I stumble on a website where I can upload my art and sell it. Not just the originals, but prints of them as well. Pillows, blankets, mugs, sweaters, my art could go on anything I want to be sold to people out in the world.

I don't expect much, but I begin to focus on painting pretty things in my down time. I don't make a fortune, but after a month of uploading things I'm able to start buying my own canvases and supplies. My sunflowers begin to take off and I buy myself my own computer and a drawing pad for digital art. It's not my favorite way of doing things, oils will always be my greatest love, but it's for to play around with.

A few weeks later, I'm able to switch over to using my own money entirely. The feeling I get from owning things and not relying on anyone else, even mon Monstre who has never withheld anything from me, is intoxicating and powerful.

I am standing on my own two feet for the first time in my life.

I'm finally free and yet I want nothing to change about my life. Nothing but the list to be finished with and for mon Monstre and I to be able to start a family.

One night I finish the painting of violets and oleander flowers and come back to my senses to find Illi sitting on the couch waiting for me. He's already showered and back into clean clothes and there's dinner, already laid out on the table, a bottle of wine open and waiting for us both. My hand shakes as I put down the paintbrush and I wipe my hands down the legs of my sweatpants.

"You back, baby? Come eat."

I nod and lean down to kiss him, our tongues dancing together like an erotic dance. I duck off to the bathroom to wash up and pull on one of the new sweaters I have. He isn't dressed for bed yet and I want to look nice for him.

He smiles at me like I'm the sun when I walk back out.

When I sit beside him at the table I can see the first rays of morning sunlight beginning to shine across the water outside of my favorite window. Gulls are calling out and the sight of it all is still my most treasured thing about the apartment.

"Are you happy, baby girl?" Illi murmurs as he hands me a glass of the pinot and I smile at him.

"I've never been so happy, mon Monstre. I've never loved my life like this before."

He grins, a big wide showing of his perfectly sharp teeth and I shiver, remembering what they feel like pressed into the soft skin of my thighs.

"I want you to stay here with me forever baby girl. I don't want you having your father's name anymore. You're mine, I want everyone to know that too."

I frown. It sounds like he's proposing to me but I can't imagine him being the marriage type.

Then he pulls out a ring.

God help me, it's the most beautiful ring I've ever seen. A big rock in the centre of a platinum setting, the deep dark blue is stunning.

"I thought about taking you somewhere to do this but I know what this place means to you. Marry me, baby girl."

My words dry up in my throat, tears filling my eyes and all I'm able to do is nod. He chuckles at me, taking my hand and sliding the most beautiful ring I've ever seen onto my finger. It fits perfectly and weighs my hand down with the sheer size of the rock there. It’s absolutely stunning.

I still can't say a word.

"The kid's diamond color is dark blue. I needed to be fucking careful buying one here in the Bay. Everyone knows what the diamonds mean and there's no fucking way I was getting you a white diamond. I’d only ever support Lips so blue it is.“

I don't know what any of that means but it sounds so important to him, so vital to who he is on the streets here, so I nod my head and force myself to speak.

"I love it, mon Monstre. I love you so much."

He grins and pulls me in for a blistering kiss, as fierce and brutal as he always is with me. When he finally lets me go I let the tears in my eyes fall, the stream of them along my cheeks a joyful thing.

He frowns a little at them and I laugh at him. "I can't wait to call you my husband. I can't wait for us to be wed."

The frown disappears and he grins. "if you want something big, we can do it that way. I fucking hate churches but I'll do whatever you want, baby girl."

I laugh. "I only know you and your friend, mon Monstre. It can't be a big wedding. I'd like it if le Loup could be there though."

He shrugs and starts to fill my plate up with food for me, the care he always shows me warming my heart. He's perfect. The perfect man for me.

"We can hold out until the summer, it's not too far off. She'll be home then and we can try to drag her along. She's not really into that kind of thing."

Ah yes.

The Mounty girl damage he's warned me about. It doesn't matter if she doesn't come, I'd just like to invite her in case she wants to be there with us.

Something catches my eyes at the door and I glance over to find the hearts in jars waiting there. He usually keeps them downstairs, away from where I'd see them everyday. I think he worries I'll fall apart again if I'm reminded of them everyday,

He notices me looking. "They're stacking up, baby girl. I need a new shelf for them all."

To think that there are men out there who buy flowers for their beloved and hope that wins them their love.

Mine brings me hearts.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Illi

WHEN I GET HOME for the night, the TV is on which is rare but I guess with me telling her she's not allowed to cook that she’s gotten bored. I move the package and the boxes of pizza from one hand to the other, fumbling around with the keys and the new security system. I swear under my breath at how inept it makes me feel to be juggling all of this bullshit but the smell of the pizza has my stomach rumbling and my girl needed a night off.

"Mon Monstre! You're early!" She calls out from her cocoon on the couch.

I grin at her, loving the excitement in her, and I shuck my jacket off. A quick check of my clothes says I'm blood and dirt free so I stalk right over to her on the couch. She looks warm and safe, happy and fucking pliant.

Perfect.

That's exactly how my girl should always be.

"I got you something, baby girl."

She straightens, carefully and slowly, but her eyes dance in excitement. The fucking joy in her... fuck, maybe killing her last buyer herself was the last piece of the puzzle. The puzzle of putting her back together, not to be the same girl she was before... nah, she's something else entirely now. Strong, confident, assured.

Worshiped like the goddess she is.

"What is it, mon Monstre? You coming home early is enough for me." She murmurs but she's grinning so wide I know I did the right thing stopping off.

My baby girl needed a little something.

I hand over the brown paper bag and wait while she slowly opens it up, carefully sliding her finger underneath the tape like it's a precious resource and not just something the art shop does.

She gasps and my dick stands at a-fucking-ttention.

I'm really fucking into those sounds coming out of her.

Fuck, I need to get my ass into the shower and wash the night off of me because I need to eat her out on the coffee table until she's gasping and clenching around my tongue.

"Mon Monstre! It's beautiful! How- how did you know this is something I wanted? I love it!"

She turns the art journal over in her hands, stroking at the embossed leather.

"Come on now, you know I always know what you need, baby girl. This way you can keep all of your sketches in one place and you don’t need to worry about me seeing your shit before you’re ready or losing anything.”

Her eyes fill with tears but I know they're the right kind. The kind where I've done exactly what she needs and there’s too much going on in that perfect head of hers so it's gotta come out somewhere.

I still don't love them but I don't rage out over it either.

She smiles at me and then her eyes shift but to the TV and the smile slides off of her face, a little frown starting up on her brow instead.

I shift to look over at the news and see it.

Another lily corpse.

"Why would someone do that?" she murmurs, the frown deepening.

I shrug. "People are sick, baby girl."

I don't mention that I've seen one of the victims up close, not even when her face flashes up on the screen. Fuck, she looks different on the big screen.

She's a senator's wife.

I mean, I knew she had to be a big deal when I got an eyeful of the shoes but fuck... serial killers usually stick to lower profile prey.

They show a press conference with the senator, the grief on his face a real thing. Fuck man.

"He doesn't look like he's done it. Usually they say it's the husband," Odie murmurs, and I grin at her.

"I can tell you for fucking certain it's almost always the husband, baby girl, but you're right. That's real grief, he’s not the serial killer. Change the channel, you don't need to be watching this shit."

I don't want her nightmares starting up again. They always make me feel like a fucking failure but I never speak a word of that to her, I just hold her though it all.

I set the pizza down on the kitchen table as I walk through to the bathroom to clean up.

The alarm stops me.

Odie doesn’t panic but she gets up from the couch and walks into the bedroom behind me. “Are you expecting someone?”

“No. Grab your gun and wait on the other side of the bed, baby, I’ll take care of it.”

She nods and pulls up the sweater she’s draped in, grabbing her piece from the holster on her thigh. I don’t even get the chance to appreciate how fucking hot the move is as I stalk out of the apartment, locking the door and taking the stairs three at a time to go rip the guts out of whichever dickheads just showed up at my fucking door.

I see the Bentley and curse under my breath.

What the fuck is the Crow doing on the south side of the Bay for anything other than a Twelve meeting, let alone showing up at my fucking door?

The driver parks up and gets out to open the back door as if the Crow is some sort of fucking god and not a crime lord in the slums of the Bay.

I could fucking choke.

The Crow looks out of place here in his fucking suit as he steps out, walking over to me like he isn’t in danger of losing his fucking intestines for showing up here without an invite. “I have a job for you."

I scoff and cross my arms. I don't need work from the Crow, the secretive fuck who wouldn't know what struggle is. He's a prince playing a pauper and I'm not about to help some rich boy playing gangster out.

"I have information you need. I have the whereabouts of Alcatron."

I pause with my hand on the car door. Well fuck. I've run out of fucking leads on the cartel, I need every bit of help I can get now and this is the last fucking piece. "What's the job?"

"I need a man brought to me. He has a lot of security, plenty of men you'll have to kill to get to him, but I need him alive and unharmed."

It's an easy enough job. Doesn't matter how many guys he has, I can get through them all, one way or another. "If the information you give me leads me to Alcatron I’ll do it. I'm paying on delivery, I've been fucked over with this too many times."

The Crow shrugs. "I trust you'll do it. Now you're out from under the Jackal I’m sure you’ll be true to your word. If you do it for me before the end of the week, I’ll throw in a hundred grand for the job."

It kills me not to shoot him for this disrespect. D'Ardo might have been a deceitful fuck but I've always followed through. I've never bailed on a job, even when it wasn't my style, and to have him say that shit to me, fuck I want to bleed him out for it. I want to bathe in his blood.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and he jerks his head in the direction of the sound. "The information is there, for your job and mine. Contact me once you're finished with your work with the cartel and we can arrange a time and place for the pick up. I need him alive, Butcher."

I nod and step back into the warehouse, checking the security cams until I see the car disappear into the night and then checking that the alarms are set.

Then I walk upstairs to my girl and forget about all the shit I have left to get done. There’s dinner hot on the table and a new painting to admire.

That’s all I need.

--

The cul-de-sac is exactly what Odie described to me.

The neighbors all look away at the sight of my Mustang and all of the bikers driving up behind me as we pull up to the address. The place looks like a normal house on the inside but I’m expecting a fucking nightmare on the inside.

I brought fresh steaks for the dogs.

I get out of the car and palm both of my guns, ready to shoot my way through and get it over with. I’d texted through the photos of Odie’s paintings to be sure everyone knows which men I need alive.

No one gets their deaths but me.

The front door bursts open and three armed cartel men walk out, guns in their hands as they shout in Spanish at us. Harbin’s face splits into an evil grin, the one he wears when shit is personal and it’s then that I’m reminded that he knew Mike well and the brutal death by savage dogs of his Unseen brother had not gone unnoticed.

He pulls out a knife and Roxas whoops with excitement, fucking thrilled that his brother is ready to spill blood like his name suggests.

The yelling gets louder as Harbin approaches then finally one of them fires at him, hitting him square in the chest but with the Kevlar on and the rage pumping through him he barely registers the shot, his feet still moving and his own war cry tearing out of his chest.

He takes down the guy in the middle, a knife to his throat as he blows out his carotid artery in one move. The other two are struck dumb by the sight of their friend’s blood pumping out of his neck like a fucking firehose, covering them all in the shower of hot, red spatters. He slices them both open at the backs of their knees, their screams loudly echoing through the night air of the neighborhood.

No one comes to help them.

You reap what you motherfucking sow.

I watch as he takes his time carving them up, stabbing them so fucking hard I can hear as their bones snap underneath the blows, and finally I turn to Roxas. “I think he has some shit to work through.”

He gives me a lopsided grin back. “You think? He’s been holding it all in, saving it up for tonight. We both want these guys dead for what they did to that idiot Mike but for what they did to your angel with those big sad eyes? Nah, we want them screaming.”

The other bikers shift on their feet, clearly less into the blood-soaked plan but that’s why they’re the Boar’s bitches and not my friends. Bitches who only use bullets aren’t real fucking men in my opinion. The hot spray of blood on your face when you carve a man up is true fucking joy.

I stop fantasizing about killing men and move forward to actually do it.

There’s men everywhere as we enter and even the maids that my girl warned me about who start screaming the second Harbin walks in like some fucking nightmare. I deal with them quickly, trying not to think about which fucking one of them held Odie’s motherfucking chain while Alcatron raped her because that might just set me the fuck off and butchering women isn’t really my style.

Bullets between their eyes is though.

We clear the place in twenty minutes and we only find three of the six rapists. I get them naked and hog-tied, kneeling on the floor in the dining room. The entire fucking room has my blood boiling in rage, every detail of it exactly how my girl described.

Even the salivating dogs.

I get Harbin to clean up his mess at the front door a little, just enough that when Alcatron and the other two get back they won’t just high tail it out of here.

Then we wait.

I would wait here all fucking fucking night if I have to but luckily it only takes an hour for the last of the Alcatron cartel to arrive home.

The door opens and they walk in, faltering and swearing in Spanish at the blood. I keep the smirk off of my face at the sound of their shock and fury.

I want them pissed off. I want them fucking seething because it’ll only make this that much sweeter.

I stick the cigarette between my lips and light it, sucking in a deep lungful of smoke and holding it in my chest so I feel the burn. The smell wafts through this hellhole and I know the second the cartel smell it. It calls to them, leading them straight to where I’m sitting at the head of the table, right in Alcatron’s seat. I’m the fucking picture of relaxed, my arms loose and my feet planted in the carpets like there aren’t twelve men armed to their teeth stalking into the room in anger at the carnage that’s been left for them.

The dogs chained to the wall behind me growl, but I lean down to pick up the severed hand at my feet, tossing it over for them to fight over. They downed the steaks in a matter of seconds when we arrived and now I’m getting them to start the clean up.

“¿Quien fregados eres, y que estas haciendo en mi casa?”

I don’t speak a lick of Spanish so I ignore him, sucking on my cigarette like I couldn’t give less of a fuck about them all.

It’s half-true.

I care a helluva lot about their sins and the penance they’ll pay. I care about their screaming, blood-soaked deaths, and their hearts sitting in my jars. My hands itch for my cleavers, for the bone saw and the fucking filet knife I have waiting for them but I wait. Patience is key and their deaths are going to be worth every fucking second of searching and all of the favors I’ve called in. Fuck, I’d have bankrupted myself just to get this fucking moment.

I don’t care about their weapons and the threat that they pose… not at all, because I have everything I fucking need right here. I have my own weapons and enough surprises waiting for them.

Alcatron speaks again but I shake my head at him.

“We both know you speak English, Alcatron. Now is the time to start pleading for your worthless life.”

His nostrils flare at me and when he speaks spit comes flying out of his mouth, “My life? Pendejo, you are forgetting you are in my house, surrounded by my men, sitting in my motherfucking chair. You are the one who is about to die.”

He moves like he’s going for the gun strapped to his hip but the cold barrel of Roxas’s gun pressing against the base of his skull stops him.

The smirk on my face only gets wider.

“You think I’d spend fucking months looking for this little rock of yours, the one you hide under, just to show up here and let you kill me? Nah, that’s not my style.”

Harbin and Roxas move to disarm all of the men, the other Unseen moving without orders to strip the cartel until all six of the rapists are on their knees without a fucking stitch of clothing between them.

The Unseen kill the rest, bullets in their brains executioner style.

“All of this over some puta? Only weak men fall in line over a woman.”

Maybe I’ll carve his tongue out with his heart to give to my girl, hand over that organ in his head that just keeps stoking the flames of my rage higher and higher.

“You rapists keep saying that shit to me but I’m sitting here, clothed and in control, while you’re over there with your pencil dick out and your knees shaking because you know you’re about to die. Lemme tell you, Alcatron, you’re not afraid enough yet.”

Harbin smirks and uses his boot to shove Alcatron face-first onto the ground. “Crawl, cunt.”

He shoves himself back up to his kneeling position and sneers at me, “Just fucking do it then! Be a fucking man and kill me, pendejo”

I lean forward in his chair. “She told me everything, you know. I know what you made her do. Crawl your ass over here or I’ll set your own dogs onto you. They answer to me now, cunt.”

He lifts his chin at me in defiance, the type I don’t want to see out of him right now and I finally lose my cool a little.

I pull my gun out and aim it at his head. He smirks, happy with the quick and easy death he thinks he’s about to get, and the smirk I give him back is laced with poisons and sharp blades. I lower the gun until it’s aimed over his heart, pausing long enough that the smirk falters a little and then I aim lower. He blanches but I don’t give him time to argue.

I shoot him in the dick.

Correction: I shoot his filthy, rapist, pin-dick right off.

The screams he gives out are like fucking ecstasy hitting my bloodstream, the type of high that can only come from destroying the men that hurt my girl.

The other men all clutch at their own dicks, gasping and murmuring to each other in Spanish as the blood from their boss’s mangled genitals seeps into the carpet and the pool begins to spread out towards them.

“Crawl, Alcatron. Crawl to me and accept your death.”

When the screams from him finally dry up the color is gone from his face. His skin looking waxy and the sweat pouring from his face mixing with the tears streaming from his eyes. I stare down at him with the grim satisfaction of a man who has seen the depths of hell to make it out on the other side with a gun in one hand and a list of men to die in the other.

My girl deserves every fucking cartel heart in this room. She deserves them all and more.

By the end of the torture and their deaths I have six new hearts in jars and the Unseen have a whole new appreciation for the Butcher of the Bay.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Odie

I PAINT all night and by dawn mon Monstre still isn’t home. I feel the fingers of dread up my spine but after I shower to wash off the paint I find a text message from him on my phone.

Everything is fine baby girl. I’ll be home late, don’t wait up.

I know what he went out tonight to do so I’m not shocked he’s going to be late but I know how dangerous the streets of the Bay really are, so there will always be that underlying fear bubbling in my gut when he goes out.

I triple-check the locks and the security system before I head back to our bedroom. I leave my gun on the nightstand and I tuck one of the switchblades under my pillow, the unease of knowing all of the evil in the world always present. The sheets are cold without him in the bed with me, so I cover myself in his clothes and tuck my face into his pillow until I’m surrounded by his scent. The tension in me slowly eases out until I drift off, the blackout curtains on the window rendering the room into complete darkness.

I’m woken hours later by the stroke of fingers across my face and the low murmur of his voice, a calming balm on my soul.

“What a fucking sight to come home to. You look like an angel spread out on my pillow like that, baby girl.”

I smile before I open my eyes, stretching out my back and giggling as his eyes roam over my chest. I’m completely covered but the way he looks at me… you’d think I was wearing the finest of silks and lace. He strips the blankets away from my body and slowly inches the sweater up my body. I finally get a good look at him and my breath catches in my throat.

He’s standing there with a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair still wet from the shower and little droplets are working their way down his heavily tattooed chest.

“How was your day, mon Monstre?” I murmur, my voice heavy and slurred a little with sleep. My accent is stronger when I first wake up and the slow smirk over his face has him looking like the devil, here to consume my soul for a favor.

“Baby girl, you sound like a wet fucking dream. How about you teach me some more of that language of yours, have me talking to you in those smooth words?”

He urges me to sit up enough for him to strip the sweater off, and he groans at the lush swell of my breasts as I lay back down. I smile back at him, pushing the sweatpants off and leaving my entire body bared to him.

I will never grow bored of the hunger in his eyes and the way he bites his lip at me, ready to devour me whole.

“What do you want to say? I don’t think now is a good time for a lesson, mon Monstre.”

He smirks and drops the towel away from himself, climbing onto the bed to cover my body with his own. “How do I say, ‘I’m going to eat this pussy until you’re creaming down my chin’?”

I swallow, my voice drying up as he stares down at me with burning eyes. The smirk on his face gets wider and he ducks down to bite my lip, tugging on it until we’re kissing. His lips are like a brand, claiming my mouth and my body as his for the taking and I know that every fiber of my being belongs to this man.

“I’m going to eat this pussy until you’re creaming down my chin.”

He smirks and starts working his way down my body, kissing and biting as he goes. When he repeats my words they’re a little fumbled but it’s clear enough.

“What about, ‘I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’ll be ruined for other men’?”

My thighs clench and I squirm under him, the weight of him stopping me from going anywhere but I feel his hard cock between my thighs, the barbell cold against my skin, and I croak out, “Je te baiserai si fort tu seras ruinée pour tout autre mec.”

He moves down to suck on my clit, his teeth grazing my most sensitive spot gently in a tease, a small show of dominance. I exist here at his pleasure. He could destroy me with his bare hands, the power of his arms and the techniques he’s honed over the years making his entire body a weapon.

Instead, he worships me.

“Now teach me how to say, ‘I’m going to fill this pussy up, use it so good, and you’ll beg me for more’?”

The words come out as a moan, “Je vais remplir ta chatte, bien me la faire, et tu me supplieras de t'en donner plus.”

He repeats the words back to me, his pronunciation even better than the last time we practiced and my eyes roll back in my head, something so intimate about him speaking my own language to me while his fingers pump inside me.

My hips begin to move, chasing the high I know he’s bringing me to, and just as my legs start to shake he murmurs low, in French, “Bonne fille.”

Good girl.

He moves away from me before my orgasm is finished, flipping my body over and pulling my hips up so he can fuck me from behind, his hips pounding into me without warning. His grip around my waist is bruising as he moves me to meet his thrusts. When I push up onto my hands he growls deep in his throat, taking a handful of my hair to force my body up and away from the bed, tipping my head back for a biting kiss. The force of his thrusts has me jerking in his arms, only his tight fist keeping my lips from being jarred away from him.

I was made for his pleasure and his body was made to worship mine.

His free hand slips down my hip and rests over my pussy. I whine against his lips, hoping he’ll rub and pinch at my clit, my orgasm so close already.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he waits until I’ve gotten lost in the movements of his hips again before he slaps my pussy, right over my clit, and my body clenches around him like a vise. When he does it again, I scream into his kiss as I come, my arousal dripping down both of our legs. He lets go of my hair and presses me back down, all the way until my face is pressed against the mattress and his hips move faster, more brutal until finally he pulls out and comes all over my back, thick ropes of his come dripping down my spine like his sign of approval.

I’m his good girl.

I lay there, panting and shaking, until he disappears to the bathroom and brings me back a towel to clean me off. It feels as though he’s trying to rub it into my skin more than he’s wiping it away but that only makes me feel more beloved to him.

When he climbs back into the bed, in all his naked glory, and pulls me into his chest I check the clock. It’s a little after ten in the morning, we have until two to sleep.

My chest grows warm at the thought of how close we are to being married.

“Are you excited for this afternoon, mon Monstre?” I murmur, and he kisses me slow and long, his tongue stroking over mine in a sensual dance.

“Am I excited about giving you my name? Making you mine and getting rid of your father’s name for good? Yeah, baby girl. It’s all I want right now, I’m only pissed I haven’t gotten the list finished for you before.”

I mumble under my breath in French to him, small words of comfort to attempt to ease his frustration. The list is important but it’s not so important to me that I would delay marrying him. No, I desperately want to be Mrs. Johnny Illium. The woman that the Butcher of the Bay loves and protects and fucks so hard my pussy aches with the sweetest pains.

My stomach fills with butterflies at the thought.

It sounds like the perfect life.

WE MAKE it to the courthouse early to sign our marriage license.

Mon Monstre wears his usual attire and looks as handsome and dangerous as ever. I wear the white dress he picked out weeks ago, the red sash swapped out for a deep blue one that matches my ring. I curl my hair and pin it back until I look like an old Hollywood beauty, my makeup matching it perfectly with a slash of red across my lips. I pick out heels to wear and when I lift my skirt to strap on my thigh holster I watch as mon Monstre’s eyes take in every inch of my smooth legs, the heels doing a whole lot of work to make them look a mile long.

“I’m bending you over the table when we get home, baby girl. We need to fuck in every room as husband and wife.”

I giggle at him even as my body reacts to his words, my nipples tightening visibly under the dress. His eyes drop down to them as I walk back over to him, smoothing a hand down my body as I fuss with it one last time.

“Nervous?” He murmurs, taking my hand.

I smile. “Not at all. I’m impatient.”

The drive over is uneventful and I can’t help but wonder about what my parents are doing now? My father is out of prison and I don’t know what my mother was doing while he was locked up. I always wanted to escape them but some part of me also thought that they’d be there when I got married.

I also thought it would be Louis who married me.

I’ve never been more thankful to be wrong.

“What are you thinking about, baby girl? No frowning on our wedding day.”

There’s no way I want to tell him I’m thinking of another man, not even if I’m thinking about how much I don’t want him. “Just my parents. I’m glad they’re not here today.”

He raises my hand up to his lips and kisses my palm even as he parks the BMW with ease. “Don’t think about them anymore, baby girl. They’re nothing to you anymore. I’m your family.”

He says it as if it’s nothing, like it’s as easy of breathing, when it means everything to me to have him and I know he really feels the same.

He opens the car door for me and holds my hand throughout the entire process, ignoring the looks we get from the workers there and the officiant as we sign everything. There isn’t any real ceremony but when we’ve filled everything out he pulls another ring box out of his pocket, sliding a matching wedding band onto my finger. It’s simpler than the exquisite diamond but still beautiful, the matching inlaid diamonds making the setting look even more stunning.

I surprise him with a box on my own.

He startles but a grin takes over his face, savage and perfect. “You got me a ring?”

I smile and blush like a maiden, as though he hasn’t fucked me everyday imaginable dozens of times already. “I used some of my painting commissions. I got you… well, maybe you should look.”

He opens the box and finds two rings. A platinum band, simple and plain but with an inscription in the inside that simply read, “Mon Monstre, je t’aime, de ta gentille fille.”

I watch as he pulls it out, reads the inscription and then hands it to me to slip it onto his finger the way we would during a wedding ceremony. He grins and looks back into the box, where the second ring sits.

“Two? You wanna make sure everyone knows I’m yours, baby girl?”

I grin at him, threading our fingers together and ignoring the eyes of the strangers around us. “I think I’d paint my name all over your skin before you went out if you’d let me, mon Monstre, but no. The second ring is for when you work. It’s silicon and won’t get damaged or damage you when you’re… busy working with your hands.”

He uses our joined hands to tug me into his body, cupping my cheek with his free hand as he kisses me deeply until I’m like jelly in his arms. We hear someone clearing their throat but his grip on my face holds me still until he’s done with the kiss.

When we break apart he smirks at the worker, taking the paperwork from her and leading me back out of the building and onto the busy streets of downtown Mounts Bay.

Mon Monstre walks me over to his car where we find an old friend waiting for us.

Le Loup looks older.

There's more color to her cheeks and the gaunt, starved look she had before has eased a little. She's still tiny, too small for someone her age, but she no longer looks emaciated. She nods her head at mon Monstre and gives me a small smile.

"Congratulations, I'm glad you guys have found this happy ending." She says, hesitating before hugging me quickly. She touches me as though she's handling a bomb but I remember what mon Monstre said about Mounty kids and their distrust of physical affection.

"It's not an ending, le Loup, but a very exciting beginning." I say, and she nods with a smile. She looks out over the crowd like she’s waiting for something, watching for someone to jump out and attack us. It makes me frown, nervous for her and that upsets mon Monstre. He squeezes my hand again and I remember the happiness of this moment for us both.

“I’m officially Mrs. Illium now. No more using my father's cursed name."

Illi chuckles and hands me an American passport. I stare at it for a moment, I’ve never even held my own passport before, and when I open it I find my married name is listed.

We've only been married for an hour.

He laughs at the confused look on my face and le Loup smirks at him. "You can get anything you want in the Bay with the right contacts and enough green. What does she need a passport for anyway? Are you honeymooning in the Caribbean?"

Mon Monstre takes my hand in his again, threading our fingers together and drawing me closer to the car. "We're spending a few months in Europe actually. Seeing the world together and getting out of this shit-hole to stretch our legs."

Le Loup smiles and walks us out to the car. She doesn't climb in, instead she leans on the side and listens to Illi with a half-smile on her face. Her joy is infectious, even if this weren't my wedding day I'd be smiling along with her.

"If you need anything while we're gone, call Roxas and Harbin. I've told them both to keep an eye out for you. No calling that fuckhead D'Ardo." She bites her lip as she looks at her feet. Illi smells the hesitance in the air and his eyes narrow. "What the fuck is going on, kid?"

She sighs and rubs a hand over her face. "I inducted someone."

Oh.

That's new.

I look over at Illi but he doesn't look surprised. "Yeah, the O'Cronin kid. I assumed that was a tactic against the old fucker Liam. Wasn't it?"

She nods and then shakes her head, as if she has no real answer for him. "He's kind of... my friend. I think. I know for sure I'm friends with his cousin. It's a fucking mess, okay? Matteo is already suspicious as fuck about the whole thing and it might get... bad.”

I glance over at Illi, ready to hear whatever it is he has to say about this. I'm glad she's making friends at school, though the idea of the Wolf of Mounts Bay making friends with normal teenage girls is hilarious to me.

Do they know she slits throats for money in the summer?

"Do we need to postpone the honeymoon? I will. I'll stay here and fix this mess with you right now if you need it, kid."

She shakes her head. "I'm renting a place on the south side, close to your warehouse and the MC just in case. I had the Coyote rig the security on the place so I'm not worried about being caught unaware. We've learned that lesson."

Illi doesn't look any happier. He frowns at her like he's planning on stuffing her into his suitcase and dragging her to France with us. I sigh a little under my breath. It would be lovely to take her with us, to show her all of the sights of the world outside of this city, but she's a child and still in school. She can't skip any of her education, not at the prestigious preparatory academy she attends.

Not without risking the future she’s worked so hard to have a chance at.

"I don't like this." Illi finally mutters, though he's loud enough for us both to hear it.

She shrugs, giving him a lopsided grin. "You don't have to like it, that's what's happening. I'll call the bikers if I need anything but my plan for summer is to keep my head down and my profile low. I'm not looking at starting a war."

Something twists in my gut at those words but she finally pushes away from the car and gives me another quick hug, bumping her fist with Illi, and then disappearing into the busy streets of the city center.

I turn to look at Illi but he's still watching her, his eyes far more honed than mine. "If she's not safe, we should stay."

He turns to look at me, opening the car door and ushering me in. "She'll be okay. The guys would never let me down like that and Harbin seems pretty fond of her these days. We need this break, baby girl."

He needs the break... and the death of my father at his hands.

All I need is him and my paints and our little apartment and the promise of a future for us both.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Illi

BINGLEY IS A FUCKING NIGHTMARE.

The hotel room he’s in with the kid is on the top floor, not easy for me to get to without attracting attention, but the fact I know he’s raping a kid right now… fucking impossible not to just kill the cunt.

I don’t care that she walked in there with him willingly. She’s skin and fucking bones, a starving kid isn’t consenting. She’s trying not to fucking die.

The fact she reminds me of Lips… that’s just making this entire thing ten times worse. I need to get back to the apartment and scrub this from my skin, kiss my girl and forget about how entirely fucked up the world is.

The fact the Crow wants him alive is killing me too.

I’d kill this cunt for free if he’d told me what the fuck he’s doing.

So I pay off the receptionist and the bellboy. They both know the score and are happy enough to be getting paid for the help rather than dealing with threats from me. Neither of them looked happy about the Mounty kid going up there but there’s fuck all they could do about it. Call the cops and you lose your job.

Lose your job, you might be the one going into a rich man’s hotel room to suck him off to eat.

Fuck it, I’m not waiting around.

I use the master swipe card from the reception to get in, my gun in my hand with the safety on. I want him scared, not dead. Fuck, but I do really want him dead.

They hear the door opening and Bingley climbs off of the bed, his pants undone and his dick out. The kid still has clothes on, thank fuck, and her eyes are glazed over. Did he drug her or has she taken something to be able to get through this?

Fuck.

“Who the fuck are you? How the fuck did you get a key?”

God, even the sound of his voice has my jaw clenching so fucking hard I might break my teeth. “Zip up and throw on a shirt, we’re going for a ride.”

His lip curls as he snaps off the condom and fixes his pants. At least he was wearing one, probably because he didn’t want to have to pay off a baby mama, but the girl rolls off of the bed and scoots back until her back hits the wall. She has no fucking clue of what’s going on right now, but she sure as shit knows who I am.

She shuts her eyes.

“Get the fuck out of my room before I call the cops on you! I’m not going anywhere with some gangbanger thug.” He spits as he talks, his entire demeanor still arrogant and furious. He has no idea how fucked he really is.

I take the safety off of the gun.

“Not asking again, Bingley. Put a shirt on and get moving, I have other appointments to get to.”

He swears and moves to stalk around the bed, heading towards the kid who is now rocking just a little. She’s mumbling under her breath, an old lullaby like she’s calming herself down.

Something in me snaps.

I shoot the pedophile rapist in the leg and he drops to the ground screaming. I hear doors opening in the corridor but the bellboy starts coaxing them back into their rooms, just like I asked him to. I walk over to Bingley slowly, my gun still in one hand and swiping up one of my cleavers in the other. His screams quieten down to rough groans as he pants through the pain.

“You seem to be confused about what’s happening here. You’re not the one calling the shots, you’re the scumbag rapist who’s coming downstairs with me. The kid is leaving here without ever touching your dick.”

His eyes are still full of that arrogant fury but he’s changed his tone when he says, “Whatever you’re being paid, I’ll match it. Whoever is paying you, I can pay more. I’m a very rich man.”

I smirk and lift the cleaver, pressing the sharp edge of it against his cheek. One movement and I’ll slice through the skin and muscle, filet him to the fucking bone.

The Crow said nothing about having him untouched, whole, or even just slightly maimed.

“You don’t seem to understand what is happening here so let me introduce myself. I’m the Butcher of the Bay. There is no bargaining, nothing you can say that would get you out of this. There’s only me getting the job done and I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

I lean down to whisper in his ear, the acrid scent of his terror like a hit of cocaine through my nostrils. “The second I saw the kid, it was game over for you. Rapists deserve nothing more than a blood-soaked, screaming death.”

Then I knock him out with the butt of the gun.

I don’t want him getting another fucking word in, the whole lot of it a steaming pile of useless bullshit. Once I’m sure he’s out I cable tie his wrists together, wrap a quick tourniquet around the bullet wound so the piece of shit doesn’t bleed out and then I stick a gag in his mouth.

Useful tool for my line of work.

Then I straighten up and look over the kid. She’s still humming away, her eyes screwed shut as she rocks gently.

I look around until I find Bingley’s wallet, a couple of grand in cash and eight credit cards sitting pretty in there.

“Get up, kid. Here’s your money, get out of here. Try to make it last long enough that you don’t have to do this shit again.”

Her eyes blink open and she stares at me like I’m every fucking monster she’s ever thought hid in the shadows. “I won’t say anything.”

I nod and throw the wallet down at her feet. “I know, because if you did tell someone I’d be forced to kill you. Neither of us want that. Mounties know better than running their mouths, right?”

She nods back at me, her bony little hand creeping out to clutch at the wallet and then she’s cradling it to her chest.

“How old are you, kid? The truth, not what you tell the cops.”

She bites at her lip. “I’m fifteen. I’m not a kid, I can work if I want to.”

I grimace. She looks about eight but food deprivation will do that to you. “You can but guys like that would kill you without feeling a fucking thing about it. Don’t waste that money on drugs. Eat and stay clean, for fuck’s sake.”

She nods but doesn’t move. I get it, she doesn’t trust that I’m letting her out of here alive. I guess her interactions with every other fucking guy on this planet would do that to her.

I can’t keep thinking about her, or the countless other kids around here being starved and abused right this fucking second, so I turn on my heel and walk back over to Bingley where he’s trussed up at the end of the bed.

A sharp kick in the gut with one of my boots wakes him up, groaning and gagging behind the cloth in his mouth. The loathing is still in his eyes. Maybe it’s always there, just a part of his DNA that he’s arrogant and doesn’t give a fuck about anyone but himself. A few years back I guess that was me as well, but I don’t think Bingley could ever change the way I have. I don’t think he feels something so human as guilt.

Fuck him.

“Get up. We have somewhere to be.”

He groans but I give him no choice but to stand, my hand tight around his arm as I drag him up to his feet. There’s blood pooling on the ground from the bullet wound to his calf and he’s unsteady on his feet.

Good.

I shove a black bag over his head, the type I order in especially for this type of work with thin fabric that fits into my back pocket but completely blinds the dickhead I put it on, and then I drag him behind me. As we get halfway out the door I cast one last look over my shoulder at the kid but her eyes are closed again as she holds onto the wallet like it’s a fucking life raft.

When I spot the bellboy I peg him with a look. “Guard that door. Don’t let anyone go in there until the kid leaves. She’s coming down from whatever the hell she’s on and if you touch her, I’ll fucking tear you to pieces.”

He startles and nods his head like his life depends on it, moving to stand in front of the door and take up watch.

Bingley scoffs from behind his gag ike I’m being stupid for trying to protect her. I’m not. If the bellboy hadn’t already been disgusted about her being preyed on by this rapist I would’ve dragged her out of here with me.

Besides, he doesn’t realize just how fucking bad it is to be on my bad side.

Mounties all know better.

I STUFF Bingley into the trunk of my car.

The BMW has enough space to fit three bodies in if they’re cut up enough but a fully-grown man can be bent and shoved in awkwardly. I’d know.

I’ve had a whole fucking heap of bodies in here in my time.

I call Odie to check in with her and let her know I’ll be a little late. When she answers I practice my French with her.

“Don’t wait up, baby girl. I’ll wake you with my tongue when I get back.”

Her soft giggles down the line are like fucking crack to me, addictive and consuming, I need more.

“Mon Monstre, I’m yours to have as you want. Whatever you desire is yours to take.”

Fuck.

I get off of the phone before I’m tempted to stop off home and eat her up, have her coming on my tongue until her sweetness drips down my chin and I bend her over until she’s screaming my name.

I have to adjust myself, the images of what I want to do to her too vivid in my head while I’m on a job. I’ll be getting enough from the Crow today to take my girl on the best fucking honeymoon she could ever want and that’s too important to flake out on even for tasting her.

I drive like a crazed man, not because I’m in a rush but because I know it’ll be bumping him around and shoving him all over the place. It’s not the type of torture I want to be giving him but I’m working with what I’ve got.

The Crow’s fortress is the stuff of legends.

A cement and stone nightmare, it looks like a bomb shelter surrounded by twelve-foot high fences with barb wire and electric volts running through it. It’s not a place you can sneak into but I’d still put money on the Wolf figuring it the fuck out.

She’s a resourceful little thing.

I hit the intercom and nothing happens. There’s thumping in the trunk and then a smashing sound, the fucking pervert has kicked out the lights from the inside. My jaw clenches and I jab at the intercom again like it’ll suddenly fix fucking everything.

It doesn’t, but one of the Crow’s men comes through the little gate finally, all suits and earpieces like he’s some bigwig bodyguard and not a crime lord’s bitch-boy.

“The Crow is expecting you, go straight through.”

I nod and wait for the gate to swing open, the thumping in the back getting worse. He probably heard and knows he’s about to be delivered. I don’t know what the Crow wants him for but I doubt it’s because of his enjoyment of underage girls. Barring the kid, none of the Twelve turn their noses up at the Vulture’s auctions. Fuck, half of them buy from him on the regular.

I might fucking snap and kill them both.

I drive up to the fortress, the Crow and a dozen of his men waiting for me there. He looks like his usual stern self but there’s something different this time. Something about the way he’s standing there, one hand in his pocket and the other running down the buttons of his suit jacket, that is a tell for him.

He’s nervous.

Who the fuck is Bingley to him? Or am I about to be ambushed and taken out?

Fuck him, even with a dozen armed men he can’t take me. Still, I slip a gun out of my hip holster and slip the safety off just to be sure. I have Kevlar on too, my safety a little more important to me now I have a woman to go home to.

Her safety is everything to me and I can’t keep her safe if I’m fucking dead.

When I get out of the car it becomes clear that he’s nervous about the guy in the trunk and not about me. He steps forward to greet me, without shaking my hand because there’s fuck-all trust between us, and his eyes dart around my backseat.

“I didn’t want blood on the leather, he’s in the back.”

The Crow grimaces and nods. “I knew he’d put up a fight. He’s alive though, right?”

I shrug. “He was a minute ago when he kicked out my taillights.”

The Crow nods again. “Bill me, I’ll take care of it.”

Like I care, I can fix it myself but his easy attitude right now is setting off all sorts of alarms in my head. I don’t think he’s plotting to kill me right now but there’s definitely something going on.

This is not the man I’ve seen on official Twelve business. This isn’t the man that left the meeting all those months ago, back when I grabbed the Coyote to help find my girl.

This is personal.

I pop the trunk and the suits all rush to grab Bingley, hauling him to his feet and a few of them have their guns out as if he’s a danger. It makes zero fucking sense, he went down easy enough for me.

The second they turn him and he sees the Crow everything changes.

All the arrogance and quiet fury is gone and in its place is a snarling, spitting man fighting not for his life but to destroy his most hated enemy.

Well.

That explains some shit, doesn’t it.

He rips away from the men holding him and throws himself at us both. I raise my gun, ready to put him down but the Crow beats me to it.

A bullet in each of his knee caps in quick succession.

He lands face first into the stone pavement but he doesn’t scream or cry out this time, just struggles as he tries to get his arms free from the cable tie. Fuck, I think he’d rather lose a hand right now than be taken by the Crow and his men.

Interesting.

“We’ve got it from here, Butcher. Your work was sufficient, I’ll have my men bring down your money now.”

I nod and watch as they corral him into the fortress. The Crow doesn’t move from the spot but you’d think they were dragging a landmine between them at the look on his face.

“Old friend?”

He scoffs. “That man doesn’t have friends, only victims and pawns.”

I shrug. “Those types are a dime a dozen in our world, doesn’t make them hate a man like that.”

Two men step out from the house, bags full of cash in their arms. I charge a lot for my work, more than anyone else. That also tells a fucking lot about what just went down.

“He’s going to hate me a whole lot more while he’s chained to my basement floor by his throat. I’ll leave you to find your own way out, I know you’re a busy man.”

Then he leaves, walking back up to his fortress and disappearing, three of his men following him so closely you’d think there were fucking snipers on him right now.

I motion for my cash to be left in the trunk and the men both frown at the state of it. There’s blood and glass everywhere.

Like I give a fuck.

I smirk at the guy and watch as his eyes slide down the cleavers strapped to my thighs in full view. The gulp he gives me is loud enough that a laugh rips out of my chest. Fuck it’s good to be the Butcher, this shit gets me going.

I get back in my car and leave, trying to figure out who the fuck Bingley actually is. There’s something in the way the Crow watched him that has me hesitating, has me curious more than I usually am because the Crow doesn’t ever look cautious or hesitant. Never looks fucking human and yet there he was, apprehensive about the snarling rapist he’d paid me to pick up and deliver.

No matter what angle I look at it from there’s only one thing that’s clear; it’s not going to affect my girl so I should just fucking forget about it but I’ve been caught out too many times in the last few months. Too many close calls. So I tuck this into the back of my mind, ready to take out and unravel later.

For now, I have the most beautiful girl in the world to get home to.

One I have given my name and one day I’ll give her my kids too.

Fuck, I need everyone on my list taken care of before then. I can’t be having my pregnant woman waiting for me at home while I’m off hunting her demons. I’m not fucking worthy of her, not until I right my wrongs.

Someday soon.

But for now, I can go home and make her come so hard her brain leaks out of her ears and she forgets all about the bad in the world. I want her naked and happy, blissfully in love and lust with me.

I’ll kill any motherfucker that tries to get in the way of our happy ending.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Odie

THE FLIGHTS to France are long and slow but we fly first class together, drinking champagne and watching movies. When we finally arrive in Paris, I hail a cab to take us to the hotel mon Monstre picked out for us.

The Plaza Athénée is stunning, everything I would have ever hoped for in a honeymoon location, and the suite we have is luxurious with a view to die for of the city. The other guests and the bellboy steer clear of us as we walk through the reception together, his size and tattoos obviously off-putting to them, but he doesn’t seem to notice at all.

I love it.

We spend the night together in the huge bed, the sheets as soft as silk. Our usual schedule of sleeping through the day works in our favor for the jet lag and when we wake, I order room service to eat in bed together.

We have a big day planned.

Today is not yet the start of our honeymoon. We have work to do, the carefully laid out plan of mon Monstre is fresh in my mind. He’s explained it to me, answered all of my questions and offered to change it if it wasn’t to my liking.

I don’t make any changes.

Everything he has planned is the perfect justice for me, the last pieces of the puzzle coming together. After today, there will only be one man left on his list.

His old friend.

Once we’ve eaten, we shower together in the large double stall and I get all of my hair wet while I worship his body with my tongue, licking and sucking every inch of his dick as he pushes it between my lips and fists my hair as he feeds it to me, the perfect dessert for being such a good girl for him.

After he fucks me raw and then soaps me off with reverent hands, I dress in the most beautiful red silk dress, all plunging necklines and slits up my thigh. I feel like a goddess in it and the fire in mon Monstre’s eyes has my pussy clenching. He wears all black. Jeans, a button-up shirt and his leather jacket. We look like the most sinful couple, like a sophisticated aristocrat on the arm of the most dangerous man and I revel in the looks we get as we head out into the warm Parisian afternoon. I order a car service to pick us up and deliver us to the address mon Monstre shows me on his phone. I’m not nervous but I feel as though my entire body is vibrating with electricity, like there’s a live current running under my skin.

Only mon Monstre’s touch seems to calm it.

It only amplifies as we arrive at our destination, the driver opening my door for me but he waits by the car as Illi death glares him. I move into his arms with a little smile and we walk the short distance up the steps to the townhouse.

“Have you decided yet?” He murmurs, capping my face in his hand as we stop in front of the door. I can’t believe my father has moved my mother back to Paris now that they no longer have me to care for.

I was always an inconvenience to them.

I shake my head a little, my eyes drifting shut. I want this moment but… I also want it to be over already. I want to be done with that part of my life so we can start living our lives the way we both deserve.

He pulls out his phone, sending a text message, and then less than a minute later the door opens. I don’t recognize the man but Illi speaks softly to him in perfect French, the months of our practicing serving him well.

Then he ushers us into the townhouse and directs us up to my father’s office.

A room I’ve never even seen before.

We wait there for my parents, my skin crawling as I sit in my father’s chair but my back is straight, my shoulders squared, and my face is blank. The type of blank I’d learned in my childhood of domestic abuse.

Mon Monstre stands beside me, handsome as ever but not at all dressed up for my parents. No, he does not care what their opinion of him is and I love him deeply for it.

The door opens and my mother's eyes hit mine, widening as she gasps and smiles. She looks thrilled to see me.

I feel sick.

"Odette! I didn't know you were coming! Did your husband bring you to see us?"

I smile at the frown my father gives me, his eyes flicking to Illi and away instantly.

"My husband did bring me here, Mother, but my husband is not the man Father sold me to."

My mother frowns, just a little. She glances at my father but his eyes stay glued on me. "You left your first husband? Odette, that's awful."

I smirk, something I've watched Illi do so many times I'm now an expert in carving that sarcastic image into my own face. "Mother, I never married into the Mecedo Cartel. Didn't Father tell you? They decided I was spoiled goods, not worthy to be a wife to an old man because I wasn't a virgin."

My father's eyes narrow. "Yes, I was informed of your sullied state. You're the reason I went to prison, Odette! You owe me a great deal."

I see Illi's fists clench in the corner of my eye and my father's gaze drops down to it.

"Why have you brought this man here, Odette? You have no need for a bodyguard in your own father's home."

I look up at mon Monstre and I let every inch of my love for him show in my eyes and he smiles back down at me, speaking for me, "I'm her husband, Achembault, but I'm also her guard. I know all about how you treat your daughter and you won't be beating her today."

Mother gasps, her hand flying up to her throat and she looks Illi over again, assessing him now she knows he's not simply one of my husband’s men. The horror on her face once would have brought me shame, or at least some guilt, but all I feel is vindication.

My father takes a step forward, anger igniting in his eyes, and hisses at me, "So you sleep around and ruin the marriage I chose for you and now you've found yourself some thug to fuck? You're disgusting and no daughter of mine."

I tip my head back and I laugh.

I definitely sound crazy but I don't care, I laugh until my stomach aches. "Oh, Father. You know it was Louis that I had sex with in France? Just him. He led me on, told me how much he loved me and then the moment you sold me off he turned his back on me. No, worse, he helped you transport me. I was then sold again, raped repeatedly by six different men, and then finally I found mon Monstre. He found me."

I stand up, smoothing my hand down my dress to flatten any creases that might have formed while I sat. My mother has tears streaming down her face, the sorrow there at everything that happened to me... well, it's too late for that sorrow now.

"You know all about your cartel connections going missing, don't you Father? You know about the horrific deaths being done to them all."

I bend down to the bag at my feet. My parents both glance down, wary now they notice the bag. I unzip it and pull out the two jars, setting them on the ground by my feet. My mother frowns but my father... he knows exactly what they're for.

"You've found yourself a killer to fuck, Odette? You wanted to avenge your wrongs so badly that you would have this man?"

Illi steps forward, kisses my hand and directs me to move back to my seat. All of it with soft touches and loving eyes. Even when he's about to get to work avenging me, righting the wrongs of my past, he still cannot help but treat me with love and respect.

I would kill and die for this man.

My parents’ worthless opinions are nothing to us.

Illi unsheathes one of his cleavers and murmurs to me in English, "Close your eyes, baby girl, I'll get this done for you."

I shake my head. "No. It's one of the last pieces of my past. I need to see it."

My mother starts to sob but Illi ignores it entirely, killing my father quickly and without faltering. He carves open his chest and pulls his heart out easily, even as my mother's sobs turn into retching. I watch it all and feel nothing but satisfaction.

Every second of my miserable childhood had been working up to this point. Every bruised and sore second.

He cuts out his heart, the muscles still jerking and twitching as he carries it over to me and slides it into the jar. He knows enough people that we'll get it home to my collection safely.

"Do you want me to kill her too, baby girl? Have you decided yet if she needs to go as well?"

I look over at my mother, her body shuddering and twitching the same way my father's heart had. Her eyes are glassy and round, the shock of what has happened finally settling in.

She really did love my father that much.

"Mon Monstre, I thought I loved you more than I could love anything else in this world but... I would never be able to love you at the cost of our child. I hope you know that and can accept it.“

He grins up at me, careful not to touch me with his bloody hands. "That's why you're perfect for me, baby girl. I would bleed out the entire fucking Bay to make sure you and our kids were safe. We’re never making those sorts of choices, not fucking ever.”

I smile and take one of his guns out of the bag. He watches me but doesn’t move to stop me, his trust in me and this moment unshakable.

I walk over to the miserable woman keening on the floor, her wailing pathetic to me. I’m careful not to get blood on myself as I lean down to her, placing the gun in her hands and keeping my own over them. I hear mon Monstre shift behind us but I keep my eyes on my mother.

I know I’m in control here.

“You told me that someday I would understand why you loved him so much. I’m sorry Mother, I do not. For everything he did to me, he had to die but I’m not without mercy. If you cannot live without him as you said, I will help you end this. I will help you join him in eternal rest, Mother.”

She sobs, her beauty now faded and all that is left is the miserable woman who loved an unworthy man.

My heart pounds the entire time, but I help my mother end her own life.

I leave her heart in her chest.

It was never really beating to begin with.

I’M tired after my father’s destruction and my mother’s suicide. I want to go back to the hotel to sleep away the rest of the day but we already have a reservation and if I can hold myself together long enough to finish this then our honeymoon can finally start.

So I pull myself up, fix my makeup, and leave my father’s townhouse behind.

Before we’ve even left the entire building is on fire, the cash slipped into the other man’s hand as we left enough to have the evidence of our trip here destroyed.

We arrive at the restaurant before our guests, the server taking us back into a private room. I wait as once again, money exchanges hands.

When I give mon Monstre a look he smirks at me. “I’ve been planning this for a long time, baby girl.”

I order a glass of wine and mon Monstre orders a whiskey, promising me he’ll chew some gum when he’s finished the glass. The smell doesn’t bother me so much anymore, the memories and the fear are dead and gone with Alcatron himself.

We don’t have to wait long before the last two names on the French list arrive, Louis and Martin. They look uncomfortable to be here, especially together, but Martin smiles at me like I’m his long lost goddaughter, a precious girl in his life. As though he didn’t vote in that tiny house to send me away to clear a cartel debt.

Louis stares at me like I’m his next meal.

He sits and smiles at me, ignoring Illi altogether. It's clear he thinks that he is a bodyguard, some man paid by my true husband to keep me alive, and that he’s planning on fucking me now I’m back. It sets my teeth on edge.

He leans forward as if he's going to take my hand.

Illi impales his wrist with his steak knife, the serrated edge slicing through his flesh like butter.

He doesn't scream.

No, Louis has been too well trained in the subtle arts of torture and respectability.

Martin raises his eyebrows but doesn’t comment, ordering a drink for himself and laying out a cloth napkin over his lap like the violence isn’t happening.

Louis speaks through his teeth in perfect English, ”How much is her husband paying you? I'll double it to keep quiet."

I cock my head at him and answer in French, just to throw him off because why shouldn’t I play with him a little? "You will pay it? You didn't even attempt to save me from my husband the first time."

He shrugs and attempts to pull the knife out with a grunt, failing and wincing at the jarring of the wound. None of the servers flinch as they deliver drinks, bread, and menus, something else Louis and Martin should be picking up on and yet they don’t. "Your father needed to learn his lesson. I thought losing you would help him with that. Now he's lost his entire business I think he's figured out what he needed to."

"He's dead." I say, smothering a slice in butter before taking a delicate bite.

Martin curses and sits back in his seat, eyeing Illi off. He’s starting to figure it out. I see mon Monstre shift slightly with the corner of my eye and I know there’s a weapon of some kind in his hand now, just in case.

Louis sits back in his chair. "How? I saw him this morning."

I turn and smile at mon Monstre. I adore him for giving me this moment. "My husband killed him for me. I have his heart in a glass jar if you would like to see it? I think it will be my favorite one, my most prized possession.“

Louis stares at me, the horror etched into every inch of his face. He swallows and then says, "This man... he is your husband? What happened to Mecedo?"

I reach for my wine glass, sipping it slowly and savoring the taste on my tongue. "He found out you had touched me. He did not want a used wife so he sold me on to a different man. It was then I met Johnny and we fell in love."

The name slips out of my lips but it feels right to me to use it. Mon Monstre then slowly pulls the knife out of Louis's wrist, the blood spurting out before he has the chance to stem it. It won't kill him, not any time soon, but I'm sure the wound is painful.

He also will struggle to go for his gun with any sort of accuracy. "And this man, he's come here to kill your family for selling you?"

I move the plate away from myself so I can lean in a little closer to him without finding myself covered in buttered bread. "We're on our honeymoon. He's giving me the hearts of the men who hurt me as our wedding gift. I'm hoping to give him a baby in return someday. Blood for blood."

Martin stands and moves as if he’s going to flee the room but instead there’s a subdued pop sound and he falls to the ground, a bullethole in the back of his head.

Finally, Louis seems to grasp what is happening here. I'm not in France to find him for the hookup he had once offered as a cheap apology. I'm not still pining after the man who used me, saw me as a pretty little conquest in his bed. I'm here for his death.

I'm here for his heart in one of my jars.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Illi

AFTER THREE MONTHS wining and dining my wife across Europe, I’m relieved to be back on U.S. soil and home in the Bay. Don’t get me wrong, having the time away was fucking blissful. Seeing just how relaxed my baby girl could really get as we fucked in every country we stayed in was a gift, something to look forward to once my list was over with but there’s something about the Bay that calls us both home and when we finally crawl into our bed back at the warehouse, jet-lagged and fucking exhausted, I fall asleep with a smile on my face.

I wake again eighteen hours later with a clear head and a fucking mission to finish.

The Vulture needs to fucking die.

It’s not like I can just end him. It’s not like I can just walk up to that pit of fucking despair and pain and fucking take him out, but I’m a smart man.

I can figure it the fuck out.

When night falls again I leave my wife at home with her paints after checking the security cams a dozen times, fussing with it and calling the Coyote to triple check it’s working and fully secure.

Then I make my way down to the old biker bar, sending a text to my only friends for a welcome home drink.

Neither of them answer but I’m not too worried. I’ve heard from them both all throughout the trip away, Roxas even stalking the kid a little at school to make sure for me that she’s safe.

A lotta boys at that school of hers chasing her tail.

Not sure I what I think of it but at least they’re her own age and she’s too fucking smart to get mixed up with them… I’m sure of it.

There’s a round of cheers when I walk in, a whole lot of familiar faces and drinks being lifted my way. Not sure I like it but fuck it, I order a bottle of whiskey and sit at my usual booth. I’m ready to have a quiet night of planning, maybe pick up a job or two to get me back into the swing of things.

My phone rings.

I look down at the number flashing on the screen and fuck. Surely that fucking perverted traitorous cunt wouldn’t reach out to me now?

I check on my girl before I answer, just to double-check she’s safe and alone, painting away. She’s working on something new, a whole collection she’s going to make bank on from all of our time away. I see the colors of the Northern Lights and grin down at the screen before setting it aside and answering the fucking call.

“I know you’re not dumb enough to fucking call me right now, D’Ardo.”

He laughs, that same sound when he’d piss me off for fun. It rolls off of me. My tolerance for this shit is amazing now my list is nearly fucking done with and I have a stunning wife at home waiting for me.

“Come on, don’t tell me you’re really going to hold a grudge? Does our friendship mean nothing to you?”

I take a breath and watch as Roxas makes his way through the crowd, grinning and saluting me with his glass as he walks over. “I told you, next time I see you, I’ll be killing you. Pure and simple.”

He huffs under his breath. “I needed her out of the way. Pussy always confuses shit, you can’t even see it because you’re under her pussy magic.”

My hand slips down to rest on my cleaver, the old warm metal of the handle the most comfortable thing for me. Roxas sits and notices it, raising his eyebrow at me but he shakes his head when I speak again.

“No. You needed her raped and tortured and dead. There’s a big fucking difference, D’Ardo. Big fucking difference.”

He shrugs and cocks his head at me. “She was already ruined, what did it matter?”

Fucking. Ruined.

My tolerance snaps like it was never there.

I want to cut him up into little tiny fucking pieces. I want to feed him, inch piece by inch piece, to rats and starving cats on the docks so he never finds peace. I want to burn his name out of the history books until everyone forgets the monster little Matteo D’Ardo grew up to be.

“Forget my fucking number and count your days, cunt. I only have one more name until you’re dead in the worst way. You deserve nothing more.”

He laughs again but this time it’s manic, hyper, and completely fucking deranged. It’s that laugh that tells me he’s still the same kid who gutted his own mother and played with her organs, covering himself in her lifeblood.

I should’ve known better.

“I was calling to let you know that your biker butt-buddies aren’t very good at stealthiness. I don’t want them coveting what’s mine, keep them the fuck away from the Wolf.”

There it is. There’s the fucking cunts MO. “If you touch the kid—”

He interrupts me, his voice raising and the manic shining through. “She’s mine. She always fucking has been and nothing you do is going to take her from me. If you try, I’ll fucking show you, Johnny. I’ll show you exactly what I can do to the Bay.”

Fuck. Off.

It’s his own twisted version of love I guess. Everything coming out of his mouth is something I’ve said about Odie but none of it is really love. It’s a hollow and selfish version, the type where he owns her.

Over my dead fucking body.

The laugh gets worse, so bad I’m gritting my teeth not to throw the fucking phone across the room and hunting the cunt down. “I think you’re forgetting about my side project. If you come after her, Johnny-boy, I’ll blow the entire fucking city up. I’ll take her and I’ll leave, how are you going to fucking stop me when you and that French whore are nothing but fucking ash floating in the Bay.”

He’s fucking crazy enough to do it too.

Is the kid’s escape plan enough to get her away from him? I’ve been keeping an eye on her, enough of one to know he has guys watching her. He had people in her school the second he heard the word scholarship.

He’s fucking dead but first, I need her safe.

My list is long enough that I can put off killing him, just long enough to get her safe. My life isn’t just dedicated to keeping my baby girl safe.

The kid risked everything for my girl too.

I need her out from under this nightmare of a man, a poor little psychopath who grew up to be a fake king on a blood-soaked throne.

“I’ll stay away from the kid… but only if you do too. She’s a fucking child. You need to let her grow up first, Jackal.”

The words are like acid on my tongue, the civility and the fucking pandering cutting me deep but the kid is worth it.

She’s fucking worth this little piece of my pride for everything she’s done for me and my girl, for her loyalty and her cutthroat friendship and the way that she throws herself on the line for fucking everyone that means something to her.

Even me.

I hang up the phone and throw it down on the table like it’s a fucking bomb, the one that D’Ardo just threatened me with. Roxas watches me carefully and then says, “Lemme guess, he’s using the kid as a fucking shield because he’s too pussy to just face you like a man? Didn’t see that one coming.”

I down the rest of the whiskey in my glass in one go and shoot him a look. “He’s not fucking touching her. No matter what it takes, he’s not getting the kid.”

Roxas lifts his glass but this salute doesn’t feel at all sarcastic. “Agreed. So… who are we killing next? Its been fucking boring around here without you, man.”

I look around but still no fucking Harbin. “The Vulture. He needs a little more… planning. A little more secrecy so I don’t start a fucking war.”

He chuckles, scratching at his chin. He has some stubble growing, looking more scraggly then usual. I eye him over a little closer and yeah, he’s seen better days. I peg him with a look which he brushes off.

“The Boar has some more issues going on. Harbin took his boys to Coldstone after all but he’s not going to move there permanently because of the… issues. Fuck it, let’s plan out the pervert’s death. It’s the last one, right? Only the dickhead Jackal after?”

I nod and pour myself another drink. “I have something specific for him… fuck for them both.”

He scoffs at me. “You’ve had sadist shit planned for them all. Fuck, half the MC is still having nightmares from what you did to Alcatron and his boys.”

I chuckle and look back out at the old guys at the bar.

It’s a fucking good life.

IT TAKES LONGER than I’d like to get into the Vulture’s lair. That’s exactly what the auction house is too, a fucking lair.

The Coyote gets me the plans for the right price. Fuck, the amount would bankrupt most small countries but I pay it gladly, knowing he can’t say a fucking word without being held equally accountable for the Vulture’s death.

I have a plan to keep myself out of the shit for his murder too, one that will hopefully keep the kid safe too but I don’t tell her about it either.

She’s jumpy as fuck about having friends, let alone starting an empire. But no matter how I puzzle this shit out, the only way I can have her back the way I need to and keep her safe, is to be inducted.

Never thought I’d be saying that but there it is.

I’m going to be a married and a kept man.

And there’s fucking nothing I regret about either of those things.

But first I need the Vulture dead and after months of planning and hunting, buying men off and studying escape routes, I’m standing outside the front of the auction house with fury running through my blood and a lit cigarette between my lips. Roxas lights up and hands it off to Harbin after a drag. The biker looks like he’s aged about twenty years since he dropped his kids off in Coldstone, as though he has the whole fucking world balanced on his shoulders, but he’s here and ready to gut every last one of the Vulture’s men with me if that’s what I need.

He knows when the time comes and he needs to sort his bullshit with the Boar, I’m there every step of the way.

Ride or die.

Rock motherfucking solid.

“Cleaning house? Or killing all witnesses? I think he’s got like thirty or so men working under him.” Roxas says, lighting his own cigarette.

I blow out a stream of smoke and watch it disappear into the warm night air. “Cleaning house and he has twenty-eight men in there. Only one of them is expecting us.”

Harbin raises a brow. “You bought one off? Risky.”

I smirk and show him my phone. The photo of the beautiful little girl is one I’m going to delete the second we’re done here. I’m not a big fan of using kids to get to people but, fuck, my line has drifted some in my vengeance mission.

“He knocked up one of the girls a few years back. Stole her and blamed another of the Vulture’s men, got the guy killed. Bit of a fucking mess but it’s working in my favor.”

Roxas chuckles and puts his cigarette out underneath his boot. “The Coyote can hunt fucking anything down, man. I might need him to look someone up, you think you can make that happen?”

I check all of my knives and guns and cleavers before stepping forward, away from my Mustang and towards my mission. “Easily done but it’ll cost you a fucking fortune. He’s a price gauger, hoards his money like he’s planning on dying a fucking billionaire.”

They both chuckle at me because it's not the first time I’ve gone off about the little asshole’s prices, and we move out.

I doubt tactical groups could clear a building as fast as we do, bodies dropping like flies as we use the security footage I’ve been watching for fucking months to anticipate where they’re all hiding out.

It’s a fucking pit, none of the men cleaning up after themselves or even fucking showering with any sort of regularity, and every room I burst into stinking worse than the last.

Disgusting.

Roxas crows like a fucking kid when he kills ten guys himself and wins his own stupid little bet. I don’t give a fuck about these guys really, only that they need to be dealt with to get to the Vulture.

The man himself is hiding in his little office on the top floor.

The view out to the city is fucking great and the thought crosses my mine that my girl would love it but I’d never fucking bring her here to see it. Not to this fucking cesspit.

When I burst through the door it’s clear the bodyguard isn’t expecting me, the security cams on the walls showing a loop of the footage from the night before.

He’s completely unaware that all of his friends are now dead.

A bullet between the eyes and he joins them, his brains splattered out on the wall behind him.

Fuck, he stinks.

I guess being without women they just gave up giving a shit here but even before I had my girl I didn’t fucking reek like this lot. It’s disgusting.

I make it through the last door of the night to find the Vulture counting stacks of cash at his desk, smirking at the sight of all of his riches that he’s made from the fucking misery of little girls and beautiful women.

The smirk slides off of his face, and his eyes dart around to attempt to look behind me. “Where the fuck are my men, Butcher? I don’t like people being back here.”

I slide a hand slowly down my cleaver, the bloodlust swelling inside my chest as his gaze follows the movement. “And I don’t like rapists like you breathing my air down here in the Bay. What are we going to do about this?”

His shifty eyes start darting around the room, as if a hoard of bodyguards are suddenly going to appear and hide him.

They’re not.

The fuckers are still leaking a little out in the hallway.

“Look, whatever it is you want, you can have it. Money, drugs, pussy, I have it all.”

I take the first step towards him without really thinking. “Oh yeah? And is any of that pussy willing? Have you ever sold a girl who actually wanted it?”

He starts fumbling over words but I cut him off, “No, not the girls you find who owe money to the wrong people. I mean girls who find you and ask you to sell them. Fuck, I’ll admit, some of this was my own fucking fault. I never looked into your business enough. I didn’t until I met my girl, and now all I can do is think about all of the girls you’ve had go through here.”

I take another step forward, chuckling under my breath as he flattens himself against the far wall. Nope, that isn’t going to save you, pervert.

“I provide a service. I don’t kidnap the girls! I just fucking sell them, I don’t even touch them!”

Lie. Biggest fucking lie ever told.

Not only does he touch them but he likes them young.

I’ve seen what he’s like around the kid.

He sees the bloodlust in my eyes, the death there that means he’s not getting out of this no matter what promises and lies he tells.

"Fuck, you know they're going to kill you for this? Not even the Butcher can take on the entire institution of the Twelve and get away with your skin."

He's wrong, though, isn't he? Because I have. I've done it before and I'll do it again. A slow and easy smirk stretches over my lips, the one I've given to hundreds of men before I carved them up.

He finally sees it.

He's the prey and I'm the beast, claws and teeth, here to tear him to pieces.

"Don't kill me. I have information that could save you. I know all about the Jackal's bomb!"

I shrug and start towards him. I can smell the acrid stench of his sweat and body odor. Fuck, do any of his crew shower? They must take their cues from this disgusting dickhead.

When I stay silent he tries a different tack. "I know what the Jackal is planning with the Wolf! I know what he's about to do now she has friends."

Hold the fuck on.

Friends?

Plural?

Good. I'm glad she finally has someone and that fuckhead D'Ardo isn't fucking messing with her. Not on my watch.

He's the next on my list anyway.

Two birds; righting my girl's wrongs and getting the kid to safety, finally.

Fuck, maybe killing the Vulture will help me out with that. If I ask her to induct me, pretending it's to keep me and Odie safe, then I can stay on her tail a bit better. D'Ardo is the only one left now, I could focus on keeping her safe that way.

I could finally get her out from under him.

By the time the guys arrive I have the Vulture pinned out on the carpet of his own office, knives through each of his wrists and a garden stake through each of his ankles. He’s screaming, his voice hoarse and broken, and I swear it’s the sweetest motherfucking sound.

“Should I even ask why you want the hearts?” Roxas says, leaning against the far wall like he’s cozying up to watch a show.

I roll out my toolkit and take out a cleaver, the edge of it freshly sharpened. I keep them well maintained, always as sharp as a surgeon's scalpel.

“Hearts for his woman. Sounds fucking poetic to me. Didn’t know you were the type.” Says Harbin.

I enjoy the bloodcurdling terror in the Vulture’s eyes as I lift the cleaver, ready to smash through his rib cage.

“What can I say, I’m a fucking romantic.”

EPILOGUE

Illi

I TAKE HER HAND, the one with the rings marking her as mine, and I walk her into the tattoo parlor behind me. She squeezes my hand a little, nervous at the musty dark little hole in the wall place I’ve brought her but I’ve spent enough time here to know we’re safe here and we’ll be well looked after.

“Illi! Long time no see, man! I didn’t think you had any space left on you for ink.” Kiefer calls out and I nod at him.

Odie peeks out from behind me and his eyes widen. “Holy shit! You brought a girl here? It must be love!”

I grin and squeeze her hand back. “Have some respect, asshole, this is my wife.”

The words just roll off of my tongue perfectly, no hesitation in me at all. She’s mine, my girl and my wife. In the eyes of the law and the lawless streets of the Bay, Odette Illium is fucking mine.

He grins and introduces himself, shaking Odie’s hand quickly and stepping away like his ass is on fire when he gets a look at the scowl I’m throwing him.

I don’t like people touching her. Fucking no one, not even an old friend.

“I need some ink.”

Kiefer nods and motions towards the table. I direct Odie over to the spare chair and get her situated, double-checking I have a good view of the door and the street outside from where I’m sitting before I make my choice to go through with this now. I need her safe the same way I need air in my lungs. It’s non negotiable, a necessity for my survival.

“What are you after? And where the hell do you have skin left? Are we going with more ink on your face?” Kiefer snaps on gloves as he talks.

He’s the type of artist that doesn’t ever use stencils, freehand drawing everything straight onto the skin and then working his magic. I’d found him years ago, back before he had the shop, and from the second I’d seen his work I’d never let anyone else touch me.

I’m sure he’s going to hate that fact now.

“Two things. I want my wedding band tattooed to my finger and I want my wife's name tattooed on me.”

Kiefer nods and fires up the tattoo gun. “A black band? Smart move, rings can be dangerous on the job.”

He knows exactly what work I do. Most of the Bay do, but he’s had to patch up tattoos on me before, covering stab wounds and bullet holes the second they’ve healed up enough.

The band takes a half hour, Kiefer prattling on about gang wars and stray bullets the whole time. Odie keeps her eyes on mine, the small smile she often wears flirting with the edges of her lips. She looks so fucking happy, just so at peace with being Mrs. Johnny Illium and our life here in the worst city in all of the country.

I’m a fucking lucky man.

“And where exactly am I putting your wife’s name? And I need the spelling, I’ve never met an ‘Odette’ before.”

I smirk at him and stand up. He doesn’t notice the smirk and he doesn’t catch the rosy blush on my girl’s cheeks either. “It’s O-D-E-T-T-E and I want it on my dick.”

Kiefer blinks at me and then shakes his head. “Of fucking course you’re getting it on your fucking dick. Like my day hasn’t been long enough. Well, come on then. Get the monster out.”

MY PHONE BUZZES on the table by my bed.

I ignore it for a second, stroking the hair away from my girl’s face and peering down at her instead. But there’s only one person in the world that calls me with that ringtone. I changed it on purpose, had to make sure I never ignored the kid. After everything she’s done for me, I’d never leave her in the lurch. Not ever.

“What’s going on, kid?”

She huffs down the line. “Matteo found out I finally inducted someone. He’s in a jealous rage. I know… I know seeing him again is going to be fucked up but I need some backup. Do you think you’re up for it?”

I shift Odie off of my chest and onto the bed without waking her, and roll out of the bed lithely. “Of course. I told you before, you call and I’ll be there.”

She’s doing me a favor really.

He’s the last person left on my list to die for her.

For my baby girl.

“I’ll meet you at the docks with him. I’m bringing… my guy.”

Well, fuck me sideways. Her guy? Did she finally find someone worth messing around with? “Sure. I’ll skin the two-faced, treacherous little fuck alive if he touches a hair on your head, kid.”

She grunts and hangs up, and I stare down at Odie again.

Time to go to war.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

First and foremost a huge thank you to my bestie and PA Laura Frazier, without whom none of my books would be possible because I flail about like a muppet without her. Thank you for being my biggest supporter and the besets, most cutthroat friend. I love you!

To Katy, for being the most amazing friend and for all of your support while I moan about how hard words are. I’ll always be so grateful for having you in my life, I love you!

To Sloane for all of your help and support while I cried on zoom about the dangers of writing prequels, thank you for putting up with me while I was at my worst!

To Cassie, for our sprinting that got me over the line and our suicide pacts that got me through. You didn’t judge me in my raw form and I still loved you without adequate naps. We’re here, we’re queer, and we want to disappear.

To Kenia for always being up for a late night chat and for your translation help over both parts of the Butcher, thank you and I love you!

And to all of my readers, thank you for loving my books and hanging out with me in the Bay. I can’t wait to share more of this world with you <3

AUTHOR BIO

J Bree is a dreamer, writer, mother, farmer, and cat-wrangler. The order of priorities changes daily.

She lives on a small farm in a tiny rural town in Australia that no one has ever heard of. She spends her days dreaming about all of her book boyfriends, listening to her partner moan about how the wine grapes are growing, and being a snack bitch to her two kids.

If you want to know when J’s next book will come out, please visit her website at http://www.jbreeauthor.com, and sign up for the newsletter or find her on Facebook at J Bree Author.

ALSO BY J BREE

The Mounts Bay Saga

The Butcher Duet

The Butcher of the Bay Part I

The Butcher of the Bay: Part II

Hannaford Prep

Just Drop Out: Hannaford Prep Year One

Make Your Move: Hannaford Prep Year Two

Play the Game: Hannaford Prep Year Three

To the End: Hannaford Prep Year Four

Coming 2020

The Queen Crow Trilogy

All Hail

CONTINUE READING FOR AN EXCEPT FROM

Just Drop Out

Hannaford Prep Year One

Available now on Kindle Unlimited

PROLOGUE

THE FOREST at the edge of Mounts Bay, California, city limits are well known for being haunted.

The kids at the local high school have spent generations whispering about the bodies buried in shallow graves, waiting for the wolves to scent them and dig them up for food. There’re even more legends about the souls that walk amongst the towering redwoods. It’s quiet, not silent, but compared to the ever-present sounds of traffic and humanity

it’s eerie and adds to the haunted feel.

While I don’t believe in ghosts, I can feel the souls that linger here.

It’s probably just my guilty conscience giving me the heebie-jeebies as I look over the corpse of my opponent. His blood is still fresh on my hands, cold and congealed, and I wipe them uselessly down my jeans. My clothes are just as stained as my hands, even my face is spattered with the red stains of his life ending. I look like something out of a horror movie, which is about right considering I’ve just bashed a man’s skull in with a rock while a whole crowd of people looked on in sick fascination. There isn’t a person watching that dares to make a noise. The vise-like grip of the Club holds their tongues.

I’m not afraid of being caught.

I’m small for my age. Years of food insecurity have taken their toll, and I was the youngest contender in the Game this season. None of that matters though; I’ve won. I’ve beaten thirty men and teenage boys to take the victory and the spoils of this war.

I stumble toward the men at the perimeter of the fighting ring. They’re all cloaked in black, hard looks on their faces and black ink etched over their cheeks. My hands tremble at the thought of wearing those same marks. The marks of the Twelve. But I’ve earned them. I’ve earned the right to stand with them and be one of them.

To be free.

“Congratulations, you’ve won the Game,” the Jackal speaks, and I shiver at the cold tone of his voice, so unlike the warmth he usually extends to me.

I nod my head. I want this over with. I want a hot meal and an even hotter shower.

“Welcome to the Twelve. You’re replacing the Hawk. Who do you choose to be?”

Free. I guess a hawk is a good embodiment of freedom, but it feels strange to take a dead man's name, like climbing into his bed with the sheets still warm. I look around at the other men that make up the Twelve. Their names are what they’re known as on the streets, what their gangs cover themselves with as protection and a warning. I could have that too. I could make myself a queen of my own empire. I could rule the streets and never go hungry again.

I could escape the cycle of poverty my mother has left me in.

My eyes land back on the Jackal, and I lift my chin until I no longer feel like I’m looking up at him.

“I am the Wolf.”

Table of Contents

Title Page

Contents

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

Author Bio

Also by J Bree

CONTINUE READING FOR AN EXCEPT FROM

Also by J Bree

Prologue