Chapter 31

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

TRISTAN

Dragging the Bratva piece of shit down the hall, I pull him into the elevator and use the muzzle of his gun to press the button for the basement. The cab dings, and the doors open when we reach our destination. I shove the gun forcefully into his back as I push him out of the elevator.

There is nothing down here but janitorial supplies and rented storage units surrounded by chain-link fences. This late at night, we should be alone for quite some time. Plenty of time to get what I need from him . I push him to the floor near an industrial sink and shove the gun to his face when he begins to scurry toward me.

"I have no problem putting a bullet through your face. Then finding your family and doing the same to them." I push the muzzle into his eye and yell, "Now, sit the fuck down."

With the gun pointed at him, I browse the contents of the shelves for something to secure him. I find a roll of duct tape and figure that it will do .

"Does my reputation precede me?" I ask as he willfully provides his hands and allows me to bind his wrists around the pipe of the sink beside him. He doesn't speak, but his eyes answer for him.

With his arms restrained, I tape his ankles together and cut him free from his shirt. I kneel beside him, asking, "Why are you here?"

He purses his lips in lieu of responding. I slice my knife through the Thieves' star on his left chest, and he clenches them tighter as he grunts through the pain.

Wiping the knife across his pants to clean the blood from it, I repeat my question. "Why are you here?"

He doesn't answer, and I wedge his finger between the pipe and my blade, taking my time sawing through the joint just above his knuckle. He screams in agony as his finger drops to the concrete floor.

"Why are you fucking here?" I demand for the third time as I prepare to remove another finger. Without giving him time to answer, I sever his finger, and it falls to the ground with the first.

His screaming nearly drowns out the ringing of my phone. Wiping my bloody hands clean on the remnants of his shirt, I pull it from my slacks, both surprised and pleased to see Layla's name on the screen. I quickly slap a piece of duct tape over the Bratva's mouth and swipe to answer, "Hello, darling. I was just finishing up with some work and was about to give you a call. "

"I can wait. You can call back when you're done if you're busy." Her voice only bearing a bit of the shakiness from before.

"I'm never too busy for you, mo cuishle . Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Her voice is slow and soft. "Can you come over when you're done? Spend the night?"

"Are you hoping I come take care of that need I left you with?" I tease and hold back my smile when our conversation garners the Bratva's attention.

Layla hesitates for a moment before responding, "Yes."

Stalking toward the Bratva, I mute my phone, and roll my knife in my palm. Bending to my knee, I press the blade into the Thieves' star above his right pec. "You should thank her. She just bought you some time," I snarl.

Pulling the knife from his seeping wound, I stand and walk away from his muffled screams before unmuting the phone and returning my attention to Layla.

"I can't come just yet, but I can help you alleviate that ache until I get there." I switch her over to speakerphone and swipe my thumbs over the screen to pull up the cameras for her apartment, finding her in bed with the covers pulled around her waist. "Are you in bed?"

"I am."

"Throw back the covers and remove your shirt," I command, and she willfully follows my instructions. "Then, put me on speaker so you can use both hands."

She's fucking gorgeous.

"I want you to rub your hands all over your body. Close your eyes. Savor the feel of your fingers dusting over your soft skin. Your stomach. Your thighs."

Watching the screen, her hands roam her body as her soft breaths blowing through the phone become heavier. "That's it. Let me hear how good it feels as you rub over your tits and play with those tight pink nipples."

Her sweet whimpers echo through the phone and it takes everything I have not to head upstairs and replace her hands with mine. As much as I would love to tease her and prolong her release, I want her to come— nearly as much as she does— so I can finish here and join her.

"I want you to keep playing with your nipple as you rub your other hand over the soft lips of your cunt." I continue to watch her follow every instruction. "You're so fucking perfect. So beautiful, pleasing yourself for me."

Muting the phone, I turn my attention to the Bratva sitting in an ever-growing puddle of blood. "And you thought I'd let you fucking take this from me?"

No one will ever take her from me.

"Press your fingers inside your sweet cunt as you think about my cock. Or my tongue as your rub your fingers over your swollen clit," I groan into the phone. "But I fucking need to hear you come for me."

My good girl does as she's told, plunging two fingers into her cunt and rubbing her arousal over her clit. She rolls her nipple as she relentlessly works her clit until her sweet whimpers are replaced with ravenous moans. I watch her lose control, her back arching and toes curling as euphoria washes over her.

I need to be inside her.

"You did so fucking good for me," I praise. "Do you feel better?"

"Yes," she breathlessly mumbles.

"Good. I'll be there within the hour. Make sure you wait up for me, mo cuishle . It'll be worth it."

Hanging up the phone and shoving it back into the pocket of my trousers, I tear the tape from the Bratva's mouth. I brandish my knife and repeat my question to him a final time.

" Pakhan wants your whore to suffer. To send you a lesson," he spits.

"You came here to hurt her?"

He furls his lip and sneers. "I came to give to give that little whore upstairs what she is waiting for."

Blinded with rage, I lose all semblance of control and shove my knife into his gut. I twist the blade and widen his wound. He gurgles as blood pools into his mouth and out of his body. "We won't stop…coming…for her."

"And I'll send each of you to hell," I grit the words through my teeth as I yank the blade through his abdomen, splitting him open. He gags for air, and I shove his severed fingers into his open mouth, forcing them down his throat and further limiting his ability to breathe. Choking around them and drowning in his own blood, he's dead in under a minute .

Using the sink beside his body, I wash his blood from my hands and arms. I send a quick text to Cillian and Kieran as I wait for the elevator.

Take care of the shit in the basement.

I'll watch over her the rest of the night.