“Look at me,” he commands.
I don’t make a sound. I shake my head, the slightest shake.
“Cilla,” it’s a groan, a sound with an edge. A threat. And the squeezing of his hand is another warning.
I force my gaze to his, feel myself burn. I don’t know what I expect. Gloating? Some rude, demeaning comment? More humiliation? But all he does is look at me like he’s memorizing me, my face, my eyes, like he knows what I’m feeling. What I’m thinking. Like he sees right through me.
“You’re mine, Cilla. See it when you clean my cum off your thighs. Remember it when your cunt throbs as you try to sleep tonight. Know it. And know that you loved it. That you came so hard you couldn’t fucking stand when it was finished. And most importantly,” he leans in even closer so his mouth is touching my ear, “know that I know.”
He releases me and steps back and I can’t stand so I slide down along the wall and he watches me. There’s no pity in his eyes. No violence. Only a contentment, a victory. Because tonight, Killian Black won.
8
Kill
I’m driving back into the city. I still smell her on me. Feel her cum on my dick. She was so tight, I thought for a minute she was a fucking virgin. And she was aroused from minute one.
I meant what I said to her too. That I like taking. Thing is, she likes it too. She wants it. Wants me to take. She just can’t bring herself to admit it. But her pussy, it doesn’t lie. Her lips may lie, but her body can’t.
My cellphone vibrates on the seat beside me. It’s Hugo. I hit a button on the steering wheel and I can hear the club in the background.
“Kill.”
His standard greeting. I met Hugo during my time behind bars. By the time I got there, he’d already served six years for killing some white supremacist prick. Back then, I wasn’t sure of my release only four years into my sentence. But when Dominic Benedetti came through, when he pulled the strings that got me my early release, I hired Hugo as soon as he was out. Favors from the local boss of the Italian mafia don’t come cheap and I needed him as much as he needed the work. I still don’t know the details why Benedetti did it. I know he had some beef with my uncle, and I guess my killing him solved that, but he didn’t owe me shit.
The gentlemen’s club, Mea Culpa, it’s mine. Not my big fucking dream, but it works. Makes me the money I need. Gives me a gateway to funnel through shit that, even though the local authorities know is getting funneled, needs to be done discreetly. They know their greedy little fingers are greased by the mob and they take it, all behind their hypocritical faces.
“We have a problem,” Hugo continues.
I can guess what the problem is. His name is Benjamin Black III. My fucking dickhead cousin who, having no foot to stand on, still thinks he’s owed something. And of all things, owed it by me. The only reason I don’t kill the son of a bitch is because he’s family.
Although I guess my uncle was family too, but that sick bastard deserved to die for what he did. He’s the reason Ginny’s in the ground. He’s the reason I spent four years behind bars.
And I guess I do feel like I owe him my protection. The shit with his father—my uncle—happened when he was fourteen. He doesn’t know the extent of what that prick did and, being the good guy I am, I wanted to spare him. But what’s the expression? No good deed goes unpunished. That’s about where I’m at with Ben, known to Hugo and me as Benji. But this stunt with Jones, it’s going to need to be punished.
“What is it?”
“I want to bury my fist in your cousin’s face, that’s what.”
“You and me both. I’m on my way in. Put him in a room to cool down. I need to talk to him anyway.”
“It’s different this time. He’s brought friends to play.”
“What are you talking about?” My cousin doesn’t have friends.
“Antonino’s men. Four of them. Benji’s fucking walking around like he’s the fucking king.”
“You have got to be kidding me.”
“Wish I were.”
Arturo Antonino is the ousted boss of the Antonino family. In my humble opinion, Dominic Benedetti made a mistake letting him live after the incident with the Rossi family. He’d disappeared for a while, kept a very low profile, which was smart. But he’s basically split the Antonino family in two, half of whom are loyal to his cousin, and in turn, loyal to the Benedetti family, the other half merged with the Rossi family. If Antonino thinks he can somehow beat Dominic Benedetti in his own territory, he’s a fucking idiot with a death wish. Which makes my cousin, who I know for a fact is an idiot, another idiot with a death wish.