Chapter 84: Chapter Twenty-Nine

Andrei

Alice returned around ten minutes later, her skin a bit flushed and her eyes distant. Whatever Phoenix told her, it wasn’t good.

“Did you kick her after you killed her spirit or before?” I mumbled under my breath, reaching for another shot.

What was that? Seven? Eight?

I eyed her damn dress again.

Did it even matter at this point? I downed the shot and waited.

“I just gave her some…” He shrugged. “Perspective.”

“God save us when you’re the one giving perspective,” I grumbled and then felt myself smiling.

Phoenix stared at me a bit longer than necessary. “How much have you had to drink?”

Alice laughed at something Trace said as I reached for another shot. “Not enough, not even close.”

“Alcohol makes it hard not to…” He started using his hands. Why the hell was he using his hands like that? “I wouldn’t suggest it.”

“You didn’t even finish your sentence and I’m the one drinking too much?” I snorted into my vodka shot.

It was smooth.

Clean as I tossed it back.

“We’re headed home.” Nixon approached, hand outstretched. “Thanks for the interesting night. We’ll talk next week about the De Lange girl.”

Shit.

“We will,” I agreed, shaking his hand while Trace gave me a drunken finger wave. One by one everyone left, finally, including Phoenix and Bee.

“Water.” Phoenix tossed me a bottle. “And try to just…” Why was he looking at me so damn funny? “To just trust… the moment.”

I gave him a blank stare and then burst out laughing. “The fuck? Are you giving me sex advice?”

“No.” He looked away.

I squeezed my eyes shut. “You should go before you embarrass yourself.”

“I don’t have the ability to get embarrassed.” Phoenix shrugged when I opened my eyes. “And I’m not the one purposely trying to get drunk.”

I glared, felt my jaw click as I ground my teeth. “I’m fine.”

“You’re playing with fire.” Phoenix stood. “Trust me, I wrote the book on it, fucking still living with the feeling of dancing with the flames.” He reached for Bee’s hand.

She grinned up at him like he was a god.

And then she stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his neck.

He locked eyes with me. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Alice was at the bar, bending over so far that I could almost see all the way up her dress. I shot Phoenix a pained expression. “I think for once, I don’t know whether to run or fight.”

“Maybe,” Bee piped up. “You do a little bit of both.”

I tilted my head at her, my vision blurred a bit before I shook it off and stood. “I can’t imagine that going over well.”

“You never know,” she said softly.

The rest of the group walked off just as Alice approached with a drink in hand. It was clear and had a lime twisted in it.

I had pot readily available for every customer.

Cocaine if they needed to stay awake.

Molly when they wanted a shared sexual experience.

But I drew the line at heroin.

I wasn’t a complete monster.

I told myself I only gave them good drugs.

I lied on a daily basis.

I ignored the feeling in my chest, of Alice seeing what was beneath the surface of my calm facade.

I started tapping my foot again.

And then her hand was on my thigh.

I stilled. And slowly looked up at her.

She seemed to think about it and then leaned back.

I rested my arm on the back of the leather couch and motioned for more shots from the waiter.

I wasn’t near numb enough if I could feel the heat of her body on my fingertips, if I could still taste her mouth on my tongue.

“Phoenix, he just said some things.” She stared down at her hands.

“Phoenix likes to talk.”

“What if he’s right?”

I snorted. “What if he’s wrong?”

She sipped her drink through a black straw.

I felt nothing but rage for the plastic that was touching her lips. Before I could stop myself, I reached out and grabbed the straw from her drink and very slowly lifted it to my mouth.

Would I taste her there?

I licked my way down the straw and winked at her. “Beefeater Gin?”

Her jaw dropped. “How’d you know?”

“Can you keep a secret?” I teased lowering my voice.

I ignored how damn adorable she looked when she nodded her head with big wide eyes and scooted closer.

I crooked my finger.

Another scoot.

And then I purposely grazed her ear with my lips and whispered, “I own a club.”

She stilled and then burst out laughing like it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard.

I couldn’t stop smiling.

Either the vodka was doing the trick.

Or I was insanely drunk off her laugh.

Both were a probability.

“Okay, I deserved that.” She turned to me, then, lifting the cool glass to her mouth and drinking deeply.

I flinched.

Ready to grab the glass.

To pull her across my lap, punish her for making me want her so violently that the only way I was keeping my hands off of her was through keeping my hands on vodka shots.

I was in control.

Barely.

Another tray of shots was placed in front of me.

I checked my watch. It was closing on midnight.

I needed to question Elena in the morning, and in my current state, I was already questioning all the alcohol I’d consumed.

Alice yawned, her eyes fluttering closed a bit before she set her glass on the table. “I’m going to go to bed.”

She stood, swayed a bit on her feet. I wasn’t sure if it was exhaustion or drunkenness. God knew I wasn’t one to judge. How long had it been since I’d actually drunk more than a shot or two?

She was messing with my calm.

With my business.

With everything.

I stood with her, waiting for the room to right itself as Ax approached with a grin on his face. “Calling it a night, Boss?”

“Make sure nobody dies,” I said in a bored tone, and then I wrapped an arm around Alice. “But if they do, only disturb me if the body count’s higher than three.”

Alice stiffened beneath my arm.

I almost rolled my eyes.

A loud chime sounded.

Shit.

I’d completely forgotten.

All the tattooed women slowly moved through the room in a sea of red dresses, and then they went through the open black door as my men waited on either side.

Alice looked up at me. “What’s going on?”

“Bidding hour,” Ax answered before I could get a word out.

“Bidding,” Alice scrunched up her nose. “Like a silent auction?”

Ax’s lips twitched.

I shook my head slowly.

I narrowed my eyes as a few De Lange men made their way through the crowd, including Alice’s brother, his lips swollen and expression sullen.

Clearly, missing part of his tongue was not a huge impairment. Maybe once other parts were missing…

“Who let them in?” I clenched my teeth as Ax followed my gaze. “I want whoever it was, fired.”

“They’re paying customers,” Ax pointed out. “And you always keep your enemies close.”

Alice shrunk next to me, like she wanted me to shield her body.

I knew if we walked back to the apartment they’d see her.

“Shit.” I hung my head. “Guard my bidding room. No one comes in, knock twice once they’ve had their drinks and are seated in the auditorium.”

“Right away.” Ax nodded.

“Come on.” I led Alice to the room I’d brought her to days ago, the one with the red and green blinking lights, the one that exposed her to the truth.

My truth.

A sickness washed over me as I unlocked the door and gently shoved her in then locked the door behind me.

It was dark except for the single light on in the auditorium.

All of the women in red waited in the middle, standing on the concrete like goddesses.

Lights flickered.

And then a single woman stood there, head held high.

I didn’t know her name.

The number flashed above her, six thirty-six.

Alice gasped.

“Don’t look…” I said through clenched teeth.

“This,” She touched the bulletproof glass. “How often does this happen?”

“Every night.” I walked up behind her, thankful that nobody could see in, wishing that we couldn’t see out.

I didn’t want her to look.

Damn it.

I flipped her around and kissed her, shoving her body against the glass, my mouth tasting hers as cheers erupted around the auditorium.

She didn’t see the blood splatter the glass next to us.

She didn’t see the trail of it running down the cement, mixing with the woman’s tears.

Another light flashed.

Alice pulled back from me, her eyes locked on mine, and then she very slowly turned, even though I gripped her tight.

The woman was dead, her throat in the process of being slit after she was shot in the head, execution style.

Alice gagged and covered her face with her hands. “What was she guilty of?”

“Existing,” I whispered lifelessly. “Breathing.” I shrugged. “Take your pick.”

Alice shoved against me. “I need to get out of here, I need to leave, I need—”

“Shh,” I tugged her back against me. “You’re hysterical. Running out of this room gets you put in that auditorium. You want to know how you get a tattoo? By not choosing me!”

“Great!” she roared. “So, I either suffer at my brother’s hands, or you get bored with me and throw me down into the auditorium!”

“Have I even touched you?” I shoved her against the glass, my hands on either side of her face, pressing the glass so hard that my fingers hurt. “Have I fucked you?”

“N-no.” She lifted her gaze to mine. “But you want to.”

The denial built up in my throat.

And never came out.

Her face grew harder. “And when you finally do… is that what happens to me?”

“No,” I rasped. “Never.”

“And yet you let it happen to others. To women who have done nothing wrong!”

“Raise your voice at me one more time,” I seethed. “And I’ll lock you somewhere nobody will hear you scream.”

She slapped me.

Hard.

I jerked back in shock. Nobody touched me without my permission. And nobody struck me more than once.

Nobody.

My nostrils flared as two knocks sounded on the door.

I had her by the wrist and out the door in a flash, dragging her down the hall.

She screamed.

And I let her hate me.

I let her scream at me.

I let her curse me to Hell.

I let her.

Because it was like throwing cold water over my burning body.

She was right.

I wasn’t hers.

She wasn’t mine.

This wasn’t a fairy tale.

I killed innocent women.

I’d always killed innocent women.

And she was right.

I would tire of her once I took her, just like my father had tired of his women; I was his son, after all.

She’d revealed my biggest fear without even knowing it.

That I was just like him.

That once I had sex with someone, I would need more and more until it turned violent like it had for him.

Until I needed them younger and younger.

Until I needed more.

Always more.

I jerked open the door to the apartment and shoved her in, then locked them, and stomped past her.

“Andrei—”

“Six thirty-two,” I interrupted without turning around.

I could have sworn I felt her heart drop to the ground and shatter at my feet as she sucked in a sharp breath.

She was nothing.

Just a pretty thing I would destroy.

Something I would take off the shelf and mar with my darkness, she might as well be Pandora’s box.

I would open her once.

And be lost forever.

Tragic.

True.

I hung my head. “Get some sleep. I’ll have Phoenix grab you in the morning. I’ll provide a strung-out stand-in for the Italians. You can take your clothes; I don’t want them here.

“Take the shoes, the purses.” Take my fucking soul. “I don’t want anything in here that would ever remind me of you.”

It hurt to say out loud.

More than I thought it would.

My chest was tight as she hurried past me with a whispered “I hate you.” On her lips.

And when the door slammed, I hung my head and said, “Good.”