Chapter 1

I couldn't getthe traitor out of my head. There was something about him that had crawled under my skin and gnawed there, driving me to do questionable things.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh was a shocking delight as I crept up the old wooden stairs. I'd thought no one was here on guard duty, not that we usually left kidnapped men like Reed Olsson unattended, but sometimes when they were beaten beyond function or tied up particularly well, we took the risk. And I'd seen Cillian's Expedition drive away earlier. Another thud sounded from upstairs, and there was a grunt that seemed particularly pained.

Cillian and his merry band of murderers called this building located in the Vinegar Hill suburb Mount Pleasure. I'd always thought the Oubliette would be more accurate, and classier, but then again, no one ever asked for my opinions around here. Irish mobsters were lowbrow by nature, and I loved that about them.

They fought.

They fucked.

They paid in cash.

I really couldn't find fault with them.

At the top of the stairs, I pushed on the cracked-open door and peeked into the nearly bare room. Blood decorated the wooden floor and the doors were open on the shiny wooden wardrobe where Cillian and Aspen stored all the good toys they used to get answers out of people. The blackout blinds were down and the soundproofing on the walls would've kept all the noises hidden if the door hadn't been open. The smell of blood and piss hung in the air, a familiar odor I didn't necessarily hate. I was genuinely shocked to find Fallon Maher all by his lonesome, winding up to land another punch on Reed, the traitor who was tied to a chair.

The traitor's battered body was on display because he'd been stripped down to his underwear, and I nibbled on my bottom lip as he curled forward while Fallon landed another hit, giving me a peek of a tattoo on his back.

Reed had to be a madman because no one sane would knowingly betray Sloan Killough, the boss of the Killough Company, let alone steal a shipment of his drugs from a train. This idiot must have brass balls. And what a traitor indeed. Muscles upon muscles heaved as his chest rose and fell. He took the next punch as if it was nothing, and Fallon chuckled, tossing his head so that his long blond hair went back over his shoulders.

"What are you doing there, baby boy Maher?" I asked, slipping into the room, and he flinched. I'd surprised him, and delight skittered down my spine and warmed my belly. Fallon was pretty, like all the Maher brothers, and I was still miffed Sloan hadn't given Fallon to me when he was deciding where to put the youngest Maher to get him away from his big brother Padraig's temper tantrums and bullshit. Sadly, I had a tendency to break my toys, and Sloan must have high hopes for Fallon's future in the Company.

"I was told to punch him if I got bored." Fallon shrugged and grinned at me, looking far too innocent for this job. He must not have gotten too close to his target because his gray long-sleeved shirt and jeans were clean. "I did. I'm still bored. I want to go home." He widened his big blue eyes in my direction, but I wasn't the type of man who was inclined to give in to pretty boys just because they begged a little.

Maybe if they begged a lot.

And offered a blowjob.

But, again, Fallon didn't seem like the type to dive deep into the filthy end of life.

"Convince me," I said, running my thumbs under my suspenders.

"Maybe.... I know it's not really your job, but maybe you want to—" He waved vaguely in Reed's direction. "—get him to talk?"

The traitor in question was too busy staring at his injured knee, which would probably need surgery to ever be right again, not that he would get the chance to go to the hospital.

"I bet you'd like that. I hear you have a new friend at home." I smirked. "You don't want to be here."

"Yep." Fallon grinned, energetic as only someone without a care in the world could be. "You know this isn't my usual gig. Do you have any good ideas? How do you make people talk?"

"You want to learn all the bad lessons?" I asked, an insidious delight perking up in me. "You think I'm meaner than Cillian and Aspen?"

"Maybe. I don't know. Are you?" He scanned his gaze up and down my body and gave me a wink. "You seem like a bad man."

"Oh, you scampy little flirt. Move." I waved him away.

He laughed and ran his fingers through his hair, then stepped aside. Apparently, I did cave to begging. He wasn't serious with his flirting, and I knew it, or else he'd be in a ton of trouble he wasn't prepared for. I wasn't most people's idea of a fun time.

I shook my head, still surprised by the turn of events that had occurred around here lately. Men didn't typically leave me lonely, I left them. I'd had my fun with Aspen Kavanagh and Cillian Shaughnessy, and oh what fun they were together, but I'd made a critical error and had gotten attached to Cillian.

I'd known better.

Cillian choosing a straightlaced educated type over my amazing self made being overlooked sting less. Clearly, he wasn't trying to replace me; I just wasn't his type. And he wasn't trading down. I'd gotten a look at Dr. Vail Mifflin, and he could justifiably count as a ten-alarm fire. It wasn't as if Cillian was ever my boyfriend, either.

Bitterness would get me nowhere in this business. Grudges only got you dead.

Sighing, I paced toward Reed, and when I reached him, I squatted and looked up into his face. He was a serious goddamned mess. His underwear was stained with piss and he smelled pungent. One of his front teeth was knocked out, and if he lived, he'd need a replacement. There were several larger cuts where Aspen had probably sunk in a knife or four, just deep enough to scare the fucker, not kill him. Maybe they'd need stitches. I didn't like that I was sizing him up as if he might live. An itch started in me, and if I was honest, I'd been having it since I stopped in earlier today and Cillian was here.

Reed licked his pouty heart-shaped lips, and I shivered.

Plain and simple, I didn't want Reed dead. I liked looking at him, the same way I enjoyed the art that hung on the walls in my home. I bit my lip and stared into his pain-clouded green eyes—and they were breathtaking, precisely because they were full of agony.

"Fallon, you'd actually be perfect in this situation." I glanced up at him, and the innocent little thing raised his eyebrows. How he'd managed to get along this far without killing anyone—that was the rumor anyway—I'd never know. "You have a broken man here." I gestured at Reed, who bared his teeth with more energy than I would've expected.

"How?" He tilted his head, cute as a button.

"Look at him. Cillian is a monster straight from hell. Aspen is just as bad. And then, he sees you." I framed Fallon's face by holding up my hands. "Blond. Angelic. You whisper sweet nothings until he breaks under your tenderness."

He nodded. "I don't think that would work with this guy."

"Sure it would." I leaned in closer to Reed. "Sweetheart, I can make all these bad things end." I grinned and brushed a hand over Reed's head, ruffling his short dark hair. He moved and snapped his teeth, as if he'd bite me. "Oh, feisty."

Fallon snorted.

"I don't want to die today, you fuck," Reed whispered. His strong Brooklyn accent gave his words power and fortitude. A cheap thrill had my heart racing faster. He wasn't broken yet.

"Fallon, go get a drink of water," I murmured.

He caught my eye and nodded, heading off toward the broken-down kitchen. I didn't care if he watched or not, but Reed needed to believe we were alone.

"What makes you think you're going to live past the next five minutes?" I whispered and caressed a fingertip over a patch of his thigh that didn't seem to be injured. His fingers twitched and he sucked in a deep breath. "Has it been a while since someone petted you, you poor abused stray?"

He glanced away and bared his teeth, and sharp pleasure tingled in my gut.

"Tell me everything Sloan wants to know. Where is the product you stole?" I tapped his thigh gently, and his jaw softened. Oh yes, he'd been worked over hard by Cillian, Aspen, and Rowen. He was soft, a peach ready for me to sink my teeth into him. "Come on. You want to tell me, don't you? You want this to end. I know it." I found another patch of skin on his belly that seemed relatively unharmed and gently ran my thumb over it.

He smelled terrible and the bruises and swelling on his body kept me from knowing exactly what his face looked like; fortunately, I had excellent recall. With some time to heal, he'd be edible. Right now, though, his cheeks were puffy and distended, his mouth and eyes just as bad, and he might as well have gone ten rounds in a boxing ring.

"I'd rather live a few more days with this pain than die. I don't want to be done." His face crumpled but went back to more of a blank slate. He had a fighting spirit and I loved that.

"Oh, would you?"

He nodded. "I'm not talking."

Bending forward, I pressed a kiss to the mangled skin of his kneecap, and he gasped but didn't jerk away. I wasn't sure he had the energy to struggle anymore, or maybe the caress of my lips wasn't as bad as anything else that had happened to him in the last several days. Maybe his body was so confused from all the awful input he'd had with beating after beating that a small pain was starting to register as a good touch.

I held in a moan. What a mind fuck.

"Eventually, they'll kill you by accident, you know." I swirled my finger around a cut on his belly. "They'll hit you too hard. Give you a brain bleed. Or maybe you'll go into shock. Have a heart attack. Here in this room, only pain and death and pissing yourself await."

Reed growled and strained against the ropes. I shot back a smidge, worried he'd been playing possum with his lackluster body language. A few seconds later, he sagged against the chair again. "I want the time."

The bulge of his muscles as he fought the hold of the ropes again had me purring on the inside.

"Listen to me now. I'll make this offer once and only once." He stilled, and maybe my tone had sunk through the misery of his pain. "Do I have your attention?"

He nodded, and the haunted agony in his eyes was almost as good as the passion in Cillian's when he fucked me or the coldness in Sloan's when he ordered a hit. It was unusual, extreme, beautiful—exactly what made art exceptional.

And I wanted it for my own.

Traitors were dumb animals, and I would keep him like a trained tiger. Another thrill zipped through me. Pets were no fun unless they could turn and eat you when you weren't looking. The game of keeping them in check was half the entertainment.

"You'd be fun if you were healthy. Such a beast." I slapped his thigh, not caring that I caught a couple of wounds, and he hissed. "Tell me where the boss's product is. Not the Shaughnessys or their fuck boy apprentice. Me. If you tell me what I want to know, I'll guarantee you'll live at least another year."

Some of the dullness from the pain cleared out of his eyes and he scowled. "Why only a year?"

"You'll be begging me daily for a clean death by then. You'll belong to me, like a fucking dog. I'll let you pick where I put the bullet when the day comes. I'm a kind Master." I gave him my best smile. There was a shuffle, and I thought maybe Fallon had gone farther into the kitchen, but I didn't check. I didn't care what he did because he wasn't mine. He belonged to the Shaughnessys.

A low rumble that might have been a laugh escaped Reed, and he coughed and wheezed. "You think you're worse than what I've been through?"

"Agree. Or don't."

"What will you do to me?" Some fear trembled through his words.

Good."Whatever I want. And I want plenty."

Reed shuddered. I thought about asking if he understood I was going to use his body as my personal pain playground, but if he didn't get that yet, he would learn soon enough. His lips quivered and he slid his gaze down my front. I stood so he could get a good eyeful. If he was worried about dying, though, I didn't see why he would bother. It wasn't as if he could afford to be picky.

"Jamaica. In Queens. My sister's house. In the attic and the basement. I figured Mr. Killough would think I wouldn't be dumb enough to hide the stuff there, and I was right. No one forced their way into the house or they'd have shot me already."

"More like they'd have strangled you. Why waste a bullet?" I laughed and dropped my head until my chin touched my chest, studying his strong body. Oh, this was a fun game. Cillian would be irritated on top of it all, since I was the one to win the information, which made it even better. I slapped Reed across the face hard enough to leave a nice sting on my palm. "Stay, Beastie."

Chuckling, I pulled my phone out of my pocket. It took less than a minute for Sloan to pick up. "Hello, Oisín's escort service. You pay 'em, we lay 'em," I purred into the line, and I got a grunt from the other end that might've been amused.

"Yes, Oisín?"

"Two things. Remember those favors you owe me? The Pissarro painting you have hanging upstairs came at considerable personal cost. I lost two men on that job."

"My memory is sharp as ever. Get to the point," Sloan said, but I could tell I hadn't pressed my luck too far with him yet. He was fun when he was in a good mood, so I'd better put him there fast.

"First of all, your missing toys are in Jamaica. The sister's house. I'm here with the youngest Maher, who was doing an adorable job of trying to be mean. He deserves a gold star."

"Hey," Fallon snapped and crossed his arms, coming out to stand near me.

"What? I said you were doing a good job! Very tough." I mimed a jab.

Sloan chuckled. "And your favor? What do you want? See, my memory is like a tack."

"Mm. Yes. I want him."

"Him, who?" Sloan asked. I could tell I'd confused him, which almost had me bubbling over with joy. It wasn't easily done.

"Why, Reed, of course. He's a traitorous animal and deserves a cage, not a bullet. Why put him out of his misery when it can go on and on and on...." I set the bait, hoping Sloan would take it.

His thinking hum carried down the line.

"Besides, you owe me favors."

He laughed. "Fine. Seems you're shortchanging yourself."

It was all I could do not to whoop over the victory. I took a deep breath and let it out. "Could you be good enough to tell Fallon to let me have this beast? I think he won't listen to anyone but you and Cillian, since he was put here to watch him."

"Yes. Pass me along."

I handed the phone to Fallon and the pout that washed over his face had me chuckling all over again. I rubbed my hands and stared at my newest acquisition. His wounds oozed blood. His bruises were dark. He was missing two fingers. Those would need care. But he still glared at me. How would I get him home?

"You're going to walk to my car or else I'll hogtie you, and with that knee, it won't feel good."

Reed blinked around the room and curled his lip. "Fuck you."

My heart pounded and an electric heat settled in my stomach. "Oh, I hoped you'd say that."

Fallon handed me back my phone and I barely registered it. "I'm going home. Have... fun? Will this be fun?" He bit his lip and shot a glance between me and Reed.

"Oh yes. Lots of fun," I murmured. "By the way, there was a big kerfuffle with Cillian's cute professor that I heard all about. A hit squad is on the hunt for him and his family. They mean business."

Fallon didn't say a word or run to get away from me, but the expression on his face was something close to scared. He skittered down both flights of stairs to the front door and it banged closed behind him.

"Now then, let's get you to your new cage."

Reed's muscles stood out as he fought the ropes. My cock pushed against my pants as pleasant shivers raced along my spine. I couldn't wait to get started with his training.