13. Daire

THIRTEEN

daire

Phase One

PATIENCE WAS NOT something I possessed, and waiting a couple of days until Gavin had a second date with that actor only spiked my temper with the need for revenge. I couldn’t believe I’d been able to wait this long without going after that shithead Joey and smashing more than just his face this time, but East and Donovan knew me too well and hadn’t left me alone while they got a plan—and the rest of the guys—together.

“Ugh, I can’t believe they’re letting this trash in here,” West muttered as we watched Joey, Doug and Carl, take up residence at a VIP table at one of our favorite nightclubs, Kyanite, on Wednesday night. The smug looks on their faces as they looked down on those outside their roped-off area wouldn’t be there for long.

Still, my body was wound tight, vibrating with rage.

“They’re only here as a favor to us, and it’ll be the last time they set foot in this place,” East said.

Preston frowned from where he sat lounged on a velvet couch in our own roped-off section. “They don’t think it’s suspicious they got plucked out of line and handed a VIP spot?”

“Social climbers like that?” Travis snorted. “They beg for special attention every time they come here, so trust me, they jumped at the chance to make everyone else feel like a peasant.”

“I am so ready for this.” West rubbed his hands in anticipation. “When do the models get here?”

Donovan checked his phone, and a sly smile spread over his lips. “Speak of the devil. They just arrived.”

Phase one consisted of enlisting a few of Donovan’s fellow models to get the attention of the fuckwads and get invited into their VIP. From there, the plan was on.

“God, these guys are such idiots.” Travis shook his head as a couple of ridiculously attractive guys made their way into the club, making sure to pass by Joey’s table and wink. True to sleazebag form, Joey shot to his feet, immediately inviting Donovan’s friends to join them for drinks—and probably to drool all over them.

Donovan must’ve been paying them a shit-ton.

“The fact that they’re idiots is why this plan works,” East said.

I watched the scene unfolding before me from the shadows where I sat. Not that they had any idea. Joey and his friends were still walking around Astor as if they were smarter than us, as if they didn’t have a guillotine hanging over their heads.

Little did they know, that blade was about to drop.

“We gonna do this or sit here and sing ‘Kumbaya’ all night?” I said.

“Patience, Grasshopper.” East moved in beside me, handing me a shot. “This is all part of the plan. Lulling them into a false sense of security.”

“This is making me want to vomit.”

“Drink your shot and behave. You’ll get your turn soon enough.”

I threw back the Liquid Cocaine shot and slammed the glass down on the table. Usually I’d tell East to fuck off with his orders, but tonight I was willing to follow along, since what was about to happen would make all this waiting worth it.

“Do you think they’re even a little bit suspicious?” Preston said, shifting his eyes between the losers at the bar and Donovan. “Your friends are way out of their league.”

“They’re also great actors.” Donovan winked.

“Anyone else still find it weird when Preston openly checks out a guy?” Travis held his hands out and did a turn. “Especially when I’m right here.”

Preston threw the straw in his drink at Travis’s head, making him laugh, and the sound grated on my last nerve. “Can you shut the fuck up? We’re not here to have a good time.”

Travis rolled his eyes. “Clearly.”

“There’s my cue,” East said as one of Donovan’s friends smoothed a hand over Joey’s shoulder and twirled a finger through the back of his hair.

You couldn’t have paid me enough to touch that piece of shit.

Scratch that—I’d touch him for free, but not in any way he’d enjoy.

East’s lip curled into a devious grin, and as he set off through the crowd of clubgoers, I got to my feet and moved to the edge of our VIP area.

My eyes narrowed on the haughty set of East’s shoulders as he crossed the main floor, and when he came to the far end of the bar and crooked a finger at the bartender, I could feel the vein in my temple begin to throb.

This was the most important part of the whole plan. If this didn’t go our way, we were fucked. But if anyone could pull it off, it was East.

My fingers balled into a fist at my side as I watched the two chat back and forth. The bartender nodded at whatever East was saying, then an exchange of cash was made and the plan was put into place.

The bartender moved away then, going back to making drinks for the crowd gathered at the bar, as East weaved his way back through the crowds. None of us asked for confirmation of the task he’d set out to do. The smug look on his face was answer enough. So when the DJ started playing a pulse-pounding favorite, the guys started to dance in celebration while I kept my eyes trained on the target.

Joey with an arm wrapped around one of the models, while another whispered some bullshit lie to Doug the dick. It wasn’t until the bartender arrived in front of Carl with a tray of drinks—three shots for the big men on campus, and three vodka sodas for theever-conscious-of-their-weight models—that I felt a feral smile curl my lip.

It was the perfect plan, really.

So simple.

The three assholes threw back their shots.

Now it was only a matter of time.

And suddenly, I had all the patience in the world.

Phase Two

THE BUZZ OF the tattoo gun hummed, and with every dot of ink into Joey’s skin, a curl of satisfaction settled in the pit of my stomach. Not enough to soothe the beast that wanted to come out. But watching a professional tattoo artist freestyle a design of our choice on his neck was fucking priceless.

“Dude, what’s with the scowl?” Travis asked. “I figured this would be the part you’d be all shits and giggles over. You know, decorating this fucker’s face?”

“Maybe if it was with my fist.”

Travis crossed his arms, scrunching his nose up as he peered down at the limp dick between us.

“You already did that. Plus, the goal here is to make them suffer, not us. If you go to jail, he wins.”

“If I kill him, he dies.”

“I don’t know if you’re joking or⁠—”

“He touched Gavin. He deserves anything he gets.”

“Truuue, which is why he’s getting a reminder of what he is tattooed on his neck.” Travis’s grin was downright devious as he peered over the shoulder of Simone, who was wielding the guillotine tonight. “It’s uncanny how real that looks.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve seen a few of them in my time,” she replied. “But I do appreciate your offer to have a lifelike piece to study.”

“You offered?” West looked Travis over and shook his head. “What am I saying, of course you did.”

“Yeah, but then I thought of the oozing genital warts she was gonna add to the image and thought better of it.” Travis reached down and rubbed between his thighs. “Ain’t no one messing with this work of art.”

“For fuck’s sake.” I glared at Travis’s hand. “Do you have to make everything about your dick?”

“No. But we’re literally tattooing dicks on Joey and his idiot friends’ faces. I figured that would at least get a ha-de-ha-ha out of you. Jesus, Daire, lighten up.”

I wished it were that easy. But the longer we stood here, the more annoyed I got, and the only thing that would make me feel better would be when Joey finally woke up and saw what he got for messing with us—messing with Gavin.

I shot Travis the finger and turned to see East over by the window of the shop, a phone to his ear as he nodded and pointed at Preston, who was busy scribbling something down on a piece of paper. Donovan stood at the front door keeping guard. The way we’d all come together to pull this plan off did make me feel a little fucking ha-de-ha—like I was part of something bigger than just myself.

East ended his call and looked over at the three bodies laid out on tables between us, two of which were waiting for their turn under the gun. To some that might’ve seemed slightly terrifying, to me it felt…cathartic. It’s not like they were dead, just passed the fuck out.

“Right.” Simone let out a sigh. “That’s one down. Which one’s next?”

“Doesn’t matter,” I said, walking over to East. “They’re all getting one.”

She grinned. “Damn, I should’ve done this to my cheating ex. You guys are vicious.”

“They deserve it.”

Joey groaned and struggled to open his eyes, and Travis checked the zip tie at his wrists. “It’s not time to wake up, asshole. Night-night.”

As Joey’s eyes fell shut, West and Donovan moved over to the other two to keep watch, as Simone applied fresh dicks—the same as Joey’s—to their necks. We needed to make sure they stayed passed out if we were to have a hope in hell of moving them to the next phase.

Because this wasn’t enough. Not by a long shot.

“What’s the ETA on Harry?” I said as East casually lounged back in an armchair.

“He’s almost here. Scotty’s about five minutes away.”

“You think he can manage to pull this off?”

“I think that Harry is a bigger criminal than all of us.”

“That a yes?”

“It wasn’t a no.”

I paced back and forth, my nerves strung tight, and on my third or fourth pass, East kicked at my ankle, earning him a death stare.

“I’m getting motion sickness watching you. Chill the fuck out, or go get something to drink.”

“I don’t need a drink. I need to finish this.”

“And we will. But you need to calm down. We planned this, and if you go rogue, it will ruin everything.”

Preston eyed me from his spot by the door. “We’ve got this. For Gavin.”

I nodded, finally feeling some sort of purpose in my life, and that purpose was to teach Joey and his bullying friends a lesson…

For Gavin.

Phase Three

ALONG WITH DONOVAN, I helped load Carl into the Sprinter after he’d gotten his own special neck treatment, though I was tempted to throw him in the gutter.

Like he knew what I was thinking, East waited until we’d shoved Carl into a seat before turning back to Simone and handing her a thick stack of cash.

“If anyone asks, we were never here,” he said.

She nodded and shoved the money into her bra. “Never seen you before in my life. But come back anytime.”

Travis stuck his head out of the Sprinter. “Feel free to tattoo my dick on anyone you’d like. Minus the STDs.”

West rolled his eyes, grabbing Travis by the back of his shirt and hauling his ass back into the van so we could head to our next destination. I didn’t know how much longer these fuckers would be out, but they were starting to stir and moan every few minutes. I could make sure they were knocked out for a lot longer, but East wanted them conscious for the final part of the plan.

“Do they need seatbelts?” Preston said, hovering over Joey like he had every intention of fastening him into the seat, but West shot him a look.

“They’re zip-tied. I don’t think they’re going anywhere.”

“We might stop suddenly and they could fall over.”

“Then they fall the fuck over,” I growled, moving to the back of the Sprinter as far as I could from the three I’d have a hard time not strangling if I got too close.

East was the last one in, and as he took the seat by Harry, who was already working on phase three, he called out to Scotty, “We’re in. Let’s go.”

As we took off, leaving the quiet, shadowed street behind, it was time to focus on taking the next thing from these assholes. Fucking with their looks had been one thing, but fucking with their money was going to really make them lose their minds.

“I’ve got all three accounts pulled up and ready for transfer,” Harry said, his laptop screen illuminating the concentration on his face. “Just to confirm, you want to pull from both checking and savings accounts, right?”

“And any other account they have on there,” West said. “Take it all from these bitches.”

Harry nodded, tapping his keyboard as East watched over his shoulder.

“Is there not a charity for bastards who touch things that don’t belong to them and should die of chlamydia and rot in hell?” Travis asked, kicking his booted feet onto an empty seat. When we all turned in his direction, he shrugged. “What? It could exist.”

Preston cocked his head like he was thinking it over. “We could always make one.”

“No. We’re not doing anything that can be tracked back to us,” East said. “Anonymous donations to Bully No More in the amount of”—he scanned the screen and smirked—“five million from Doug the dick, you cheap-ass. And a little over twelve from Carl the cuntbag. As for Joey the jackass… Can I get a drumroll, please?”

West used Carl’s face as the drum and smacked out a beat on his forehead as we waited for how much we’d be squeezing out of the ringleader for all this shit.

A Cheshire Cat smile curved East’s lips. “And proof money can’t buy you class, Joey will be donating all twenty-one million of his inheritance to the men’s domestic violence shelter of New York.”

Travis let out an ear-piercing whistle as the rest of the guys cheered and slapped the seats in front of them.

It was a good thing Gavin wasn’t here, because even after the shit he’d been put through, I had no doubt he’d tell us we were taking things too far. He’d be wrong, though. These three didn’t deserve anything less than what they were getting, and only once we’d destroyed their reputation would I feel a little less murderous…maybe.

Phase Four

“JESUS, THESE FUCKERS are heavier than they look.”

I eyed Travis from where I was crouched inside the van with my arms hooked under Joey’s pits, more than ready to get this fuckface to his final destination.

“Quit your bitchin’. I’ve got the heavy end.”

“How about you both shut your traps and get out so the rest of us can follow?” East suggested as he held the door to the van wide, a superior brow arched high against his hairline.

West snorted from the back of the Sprinter, where he and Donovan were rearranging Carl’s body to make it easier for transport. “Says the one who is doing zero manual labor.”

East shoved his head inside and eyed his best friend. “I’m holding the door open.”

“Which leaves Preston to do what?”

“He’s going to jam the security cameras then come back and sit here with Doug the douche to make sure he doesn’t escape.”

Preston frowned. “He’s out cold. Wouldn’t it just be easier if you and me took⁠—”

“The time to do exactly what I have planned?” East interrupted. “Why, yes, it would be. You do your part, and I am going to keep a look out as we haul these thugs⁠—”

“Excuse me?” Travis said, shifting Joey’s dead weight from one hand to the other. “Who hauls these thugs?”

“Well, all of you, and then while I’m making sure the appropriate images and videos are procured for the final phase of my plan, one of you can go and help Preston with Doug.” When we all just stood there, glaring at East’s obnoxious ass, he added, “My plan, my rules.”

I didn’t care either way. Hell, I’d be happy to drag two of them by the ankles across Astor’s courtyard. But one of East’s main rules when he concocted this plan had been that no physical harm was to come to these dickwads.

Something I was pretty sure he’d implemented for my benefit only.

There was a curse behind me as I exited the van with Joey, and I glanced over my shoulder to see Donovan glaring down at Carl’s incapacitated body. Okay, maybe that rule had been for him too.

Donovan was usually one of the most even-tempered people around, so it was unusual to see him so volatile. The curses, the tension radiating off him, the look in his eyes—all told me he wouldn’t mind dropping Carl to the pavement.

I totally understood the feeling—I wanted to do the same with Joey, had wanted to ever since I found out what the fucker had done to Gavin. But the guilt of not knowing that something had been wrong with Gavin was clearly eating at his brother tonight. It was probably the main reason Donovan hadn’t invited his muscle-bound boyfriend, Kelly, along to help. The last thing he wanted was to lose his shit in front of someone who thought the sun shone out of his ass, and Donovan looked pretty much how I felt.

Murderous.

“Over here,” East said, directing us through the courtyard toward Astor’s main building. “Put them up here.”

We lugged them up the couple of stairs to the landing where the main doors led into Astor, then put them down on the ground with their backs propped up against the wood. As we stood back to marvel at our handiwork, East pointed at Travis.

“You, go help Preston.”

“You can suck my dick.”

East ran his eyes up and down Travis’s body then pursed his lips. “I don’t know where it last was, so…pass.”

Travis shot him the finger but then turned to jog back to the van as East glanced at the rest of us.

“Well, what are you waiting for? The plan is for their reputation to be ruined, not ours. You know what’s next.”

I knew exactly what was next, but I wasn’t about to touch Joey in any way other than to rearrange his face. “No.”

“No? But this is the best part.”

I crossed my arms. “I said no. And if you want Joey, and yourself, to still be breathing tomorrow, you’re not going to push the issue.”

East let out a long-suffering sigh then looked to his partner in crime, West. “You ready to do this?”

West was always up for a laugh, or pulling off a prank, and with a devious smirk he bent down and started yanking off Carl’s shoes—then his socks, jeans, and everything in between until he was stark naked.

West straightened to his full height and dusted off his hands. “One down and⁠—”

“Aw, man, you started without me,” Travis complained as he and Preston moved up the stairs and deposited Doug on the other side of Joey.

“—two to go.” West looked at the only other one of us six who’d even contemplate removing Joey’s clothes.

God, what had Gavin ever seen in this guy? He was boring as fuck, controlling, abusive—and, as Travis removed Joey’s final piece of clothing, I was happy to note his dick was smaller than a fucking French fry.

“Damn.” Travis cocked his head to the side. “No wonder Gavin was always grumpy.”

No shit. That thing between Joey’s legs wouldn’t have penetrated or rubbed up against anything in a way that felt good. Not in a way that I would⁠—

Whoa, where the fuck had that thought come from?

“Daire?” Donovan was looking at me like he was waiting for something, but when it was clear I had no clue what he wanted, he said, “You happy with that?”

I looked down at the three naked assholes propped up against the door, their legs spread so their ankles were linked in a familiar way, their hands bound and resting over their limp dicks—then I bent down, wadded up a pair of socks, and stuffed them in Joey’s mouth.

Donovan chuckled and did the same to the other two, and then I nodded.

“Yeah, I’m pretty fucking ecstatic. You?”

He nodded as we moved out of the way so East could take his photos and videos for the final nail in Joey’s coffin. Once he was done, he looked back at the rest of us with an evil gleam in his eye.

“Well, I believe our work here is done.” As he stepped back to join the group, I heard a moan and looked over to see Joey’s head lolling on the door and his eyes starting to open.

“Wait.” I walked over to the motherfucker who had put his hands on Gavin again after I’d had the good grace to leave him alive the first time around. Then I crouched down and slapped the side of his face a couple of times until I had what little attention he could muster.

Satisfaction wasn’t something I was used to feeling, unless it came in the form of knocking out my opponent. But as I looked down at Joey’s pathetic form and saw the fear in his eyes—the same kind he no doubt delighted in when terrorizing Gavin—a sinister smile curled my lip.

“You’re waking up alive this time,” I said, then growled out a solemn promise. “But if you touch him again, I’ll fucking kill you.”