Part 32 (1/2)
The entire ride his hands are all over me, but at least over the clothes and not under. I'm hoping that the place he's taking me to is where I'll be able to find out the information for the client. After a long drive, the driver parks in front of a run-down apartment building. William takes my hand and pulls me out of the car. Going up the several concrete steps after him, when he unlocks the door and holds it open for me I walk inside ahead of him.
We climb the stairs to his apartment on the second floor. Guessing the answer, but not being able to help myself, I ask, ”Is this your place?”
He laughs obnoxiously. ”I'd never live in this dump. This is just where I like to have fun.”
Having more fun with the role than I should, I pretend ignorance, ”Your real home isn't fun?” His thinking I'm a r.e.t.a.r.d couldn't hurt, either. Being a Dom, he likes his women helpless compared to him, probably even mentally.
His answer and smile are both sly, ”You'll see.”
Oh, and don't I see as soon as I step through the door. This guy would probably think that the Spanish Inquisition was fun. William's East Village apartment is really a torture chamber. Instead of a living room, there's a dungeon. The walls are painted black with shelves lining them, filled with toys and whips. Spread throughout the room are all sorts of s.a.d.i.s.tic devices designed in the name of 'pleasure'.
Not. My. Thing.
Reaching into my purse, I grip the syringe then spin around and give him a delighted smile. ”I can't believe this place.”
He slams the door closed and gives me a stern look. ”On your knees, slave!” He's already unbuckling his belt, stalking towards me. I drop down to my knees like a good little submissive. Then, as I'm face to face with his crotch and his pants start slipping down over his hips, I pull the needle out of my bag, bring my arm up around to his backside and poke him right in the a.s.s with it.
William tenses up, mumbles some gibberish and collapses to his side onto the dirty floor. I can't help it, I start laughing. Pulling out my phone, I call Jackson. ”Okay, you can come up.” Getting off my knees would be a good idea and I make sure to do it without touching my hands to the ground. Not so easy with the heels on these boots.
One rap on the door lets me know that Jackson's arrived. I open it for him and he steps in. As I'm closing it, a hand shoots out to stop me, pus.h.i.+ng the door open again. Gabriel, of course.
Gabriel Slipping through the door and quickly closing it, I turn around to face Anna. Since she looks p.i.s.sed, I decide to play dumb, ”Need any help?”
With an annoyed look, she points to the guy on the floor. ”Yeah, this guy wanted me to go down on him. Will you do it for me?”
”Ha, ha, ha. So funny.” I glance back down at the guy. ”Is he dead?”
”Not yet. Get lost Gabriel. Go play video games with Max or study something.” She's definitely unsettled by my presence. Good.
I nudge him with my boot, near where a needle is sticking out. ”So, what'd he do?”
Anna's pulling a pair of gloves out of her small bag. Jackson's pulling a pair out of his pant pocket. I'm guessing it's a good thing I still have my motorcycle gloves on. Anna ignores me, but while she and Jackson rifle through this guy's a.s.sortment of Kinky-R-Us toys, Jackson starts filling me in. ”Two weeks ago, a debutante with a wild side by the name of Therese Sealy was found dead in a dumpster over in the Chelsea area.”
Jackson's quiet for a moment as he inspects an object hanging from a hook on the wall, then continues, ”The injuries to her body indicated that she may have gotten involved in this kind of scene. It was rumored that this guy was with her that night, but nothing could be confirmed as fact.” I stand in the middle of the room watching him work as he goes on, ”Her family was embarra.s.sed by the circ.u.mstances and chose to hush it up as soon as possible, not wanting their daughter to be known as some sort of s.e.x addict or freak.”
Anna leaves the 'living room' and goes into the bedroom. This isn't the place for a confrontation, so I don't bother approaching her. Later, perhaps I'll tie her up as she did me. The fantasy is intriguing.
With a sour face, Jackson picks up an object that I don't want to know the purpose of, then starts speaking again after setting it down, ”Anyways, this place of his was rumored to exist, but no one knew where it was, since he obviously doesn't have it in his own name. The girl's family, being high-profile and all, didn't want it resolved in the justice system, where every sordid detail would become public record. That's where we come in. Instead of the usual get in, kill and get out, the family requested that we first find evidence of William Coster's guilt, notify them and then make the kill at their direction.”
”It all sounds so simple,” I say in a cynical tone, wis.h.i.+ng for this entire situation to go away so I can deal with the Anna one.
”Found something!” Anna shouts out from the bedroom. Jackson beats me there and, as I go in behind him, I notice that he has a studded black baton in one hand. Souvenir?
Anna's looking down at objects spread out over the bed. I notice she's holding an empty leather purse in her right hand. ”Jackson, I found her purse, id, credit cards.”
Jackson holds up the baton. ”The star-shaped studs on this match the marks that were found on her back.”
Anna walks around the bed to her own small black purse, also on the dark red bedspread, and pulls out her phone. After a moment, ”Simon?” Anna goes on to report their findings to 'Uncle Simon'. I know most of it already, but she catches my attention when she opens another wallet and tells him, ”I also found the wallet of a woman named Stacia Gunther. Will you have someone look into it?”
Getting off the phone a minute later, her gaze zeros in on me. ”What are you still doing here?”
I casually shrug one shoulder. ”This is where you are.”
”You should go, Annie,” Jackson says quietly from where he's leaning against the far wall.
”I can handle it, Jackson,” she says harshly, shooting him a glare.
”Maybe I don't want you to.” He takes a step forward and I feel as if I'm missing something. ”You know what the victim's family is going to ask for. They've made it clear from the beginning.”
”And I can do it.” She doesn't back down.
”Do what?” They both ignore me.
”Can you?” Jackson looks oddly condescending, but tender at the same time. ”Simon will agree with me. Their specific demands aren't what you're used to.”
”And you are?” She crosses her arms over the chest of her trench coat.
”Dammit, Anna! You're still a female, and my sister! I won't put this on you!” Jackson is becoming more agitated and I have a feeling that whatever they're arguing about, I'd probably be on his side.
Anna opens her mouth to yell back, but is interrupted by her phone ringing. Narrowing her eyes at Jackson, she answers, ”Yeah?” Long pause. ”That's what I figured.” She runs her free hand across her forehead, looking stressed. ”I'll do it.” When she begins to look mad, I'm guessing she doesn't like what Simon's telling her. ”You're treating me like a child!” Long pause, then she shouts, ”Fine!” and hangs up.
While she throws objects back inside the victim's purse, she tells Jackson, ”I'm out of here. Simon says for you to do it. This other purse and wallet must be another victim of his because the woman has been missing for the past six months. I'll leave her stuff for the police to find. I'm taking Therese Sealy's belongings to send them back to her family. They don't want her connected with this place, even if it's where she died.”
She stomps out of the room, with me following her first, but I can sense Jackson right behind me. She kicks William Coster as she pa.s.ses him. ”Piece of c.r.a.p!” Spinning around at the door, she glowers at Jackson. ”For the record, I wanted to spare you from having to do it.”
Jackson doesn't respond, but walks over to a shelf to pick up a ball gag. Then, going over to William Coster, he leans over and places it into the target's mouth, securing it over his head. Crouching over William, Jackson doesn't look up at her while he says, ”Thank you for that Anna, but I'm better able to handle it afterwards. Go now, and take loverboy with you.”
Annabelle gives the top of her brother's head a sad look then turns to leave. ”He should wake up soon, Jackson. See you back at the hotel.”
Before following her out, I have to ask Jackson, ”What are you going to do?” Even though I have a feeling I already know the answer.
He glances up at me, looking almost sick at the thought of the task ahead of him. ”Her family's requested that he meet his end the same way their daughter did. They want him tortured and beaten to death.”
”Sorry,” I mumble inadequately and get out of there, closing the door firmly behind me. I hear Jackson lock the deadbolt as I walk down the dingy hallway. Catching up with Anna on the steps outside the building, I point my thumb over to my bike parked a block down. ”I'll give you a ride back to your hotel.”
Looking preoccupied, she just nods.
Chapter 40.
Annabelle Already upset about what Jackson is going through, the fact that Gabriel insists on accompanying me up to my hotel room has me feeling even more off balance. Following me into the suite as I take off my trench coat, he moves away from the door and his heavy boots thud on the patterned carpet when he takes them off.
I slowly turn around, unsure how to proceed, aware that I'm dressed like a hooker. Seeing the bulge in his jeans, I give him a cold, pointed glare. ”We're not having s.e.x, Gabriel.”