22

Jack

November 21st, 2019

No cameras around that new club. No movement on Viv. Malachi was doing his own looking into Rae’s real family from what he could remember of what Marla had discussed with him, and I was staring at a photo of Viv and Rae as teens, wondering who the fuck she was.

Were the drugs she had given Rae just the cause of an overzealous adult wanting to get something to have fun with her friend, or was it more something devious?

With a sigh, I wrote down a few more things in my journal, questions that needed to be answered, answers I had found, details that might have been overlooked.

I didn’t trust Viv. I didn’t trust Max. I didn’t trust anyone in Rae’s life at this point. They all had an agenda, at least that’s what my gut was telling me.

My attention was pulled away from the notebook when the sound of Rae’s bedroom door opening met my ears.

I looked over, watching her trudge out, her hair tangled, wearing one of my shirts I had left on the floor, and nothing else.

My cock twitched in hunger, her scent still coating my skin. I had run both of us into exhaustion, but seeing her in my shirt, only a few buttons keeping it closed? It did something primal to me.

However, from the circles under her eyes and the bruises across her skin, I knew she was spent. She needed time to recuperate. I had to allow it. It was the least I could do.

Her eyes were heavy, marks on her neck where the dog choke collar had pinched into her skin, her wrists and ankles once again, wrapped in gauze.

She yawned, stretching fiercely, the shirt riding up, revealing her black thong underneath.

I growled and turned back to my computer. That just wasn’t playing fair, although from the state of her, I wasn’t sure if she realized what she was doing.

I pulled up the security footage from the night of the masquerade again and started watching at double speed who actually attended that night.

Zo had watched it a few times, but I had nothing else to do at the moment. No leads, no anything, so finding out who tried to poison her that night seemed a good place to start.

Rae grabbed my hand and lifted it.

I looked up, resigned to let her do what she needed out of pure curiosity.

She lifted my arm and crawled onto my lap, pulling her legs up and settling against my chest.

I couldn’t help but smile as I wrapped my arm around her and continued watching the screen, people streaming in and out, talking to Mr. Braltor, checking in.

Her breathing softened again, her body relaxing into mine as if she might fall asleep again.

At the thought, I found myself edging her shirt up, tracing patterns into her upper thigh if only to bring her more of that comfort she so desperately sought.

“Mrs. Delcott,” she finally murmured, causing my hand to stop.

I immediately hit pause with my other hand. “Who?”

Rae nodded towards the screen at the woman in the green dress and white mouse mask. “Mrs. Delcott. I don’t remember seeing her there.” She stretched a little and settled her head into the crook of my neck. “Why are you looking at this?”

It was such a simple comment, but why her? Rae hadn’t talked to everyone that night, she hadn’t seen everyone, I was sure of it, so why did Mrs. Delcott stand out to her? “Someone tried to poison you that night,” I explained softly. It was a curious thing, the mind. Especially when exhausted. Normal defenses were down, things tended to drift to the surface without meaning too. This could have been one of them.

Or it could have been a random thought from an exhausted mind.

This was Rae though. Even in her exhaustion, she had proved to be intelligent, observant. I had to take it all into consideration.

She didn’t react, probably too exhausted to do so. “The drink I spilled.”

“They put something into it, Zo watched them. She saw someone with a white mask poison your drink.”

When she didn’t respond, I looked down. “Why does it matter that you didn’t see Mrs. Delcott?” I understood it wasn’t just physical. If she was tortured, then pushing her this far probably took a deeper toll on her than I had originally thought. That didn’t mean I would necessarily stop, I would just change directions with certain things.

“Mrs. Delcott knew my mother,” she answered easily. “They worked together, or so I was told,” she finished bitterly, sliding her hand over my thigh.

I adjusted myself, spreading my legs a little more unable to help myself. “Who told you that?” If she wanted to touch me, she could touch me however and whenever she wanted. So long as she understood what it would bring if she pushed it enough.

She slid her hand towards my knee as far as she could reach before pulling it back to my upper thigh, causing my eyes to roll back, my cock to throb.

Fuck, here I was, trying to be good, and she was unintentionally earning herself another little session.

Her body tensed a little and she shook her head, pressing her nails into my thigh. “It’s…um…” A shudder fell through her, and she immediately slid her hand up to my cock. “I want more,” she whimpered. “Please.”

I leaned back and grabbed her jaw, forcing her to look at me, her eyes red, her lips still swollen. “Tell me who told you that.”

Her nails dug deeper into me, her thighs clenching, her shoulders curling in. She looked from my eyes to my lips and back. “You can take whatever you want, but I can’t?” she frowned, releasing my cock. She tried to shove herself away, but I jerked her back, trapping her on my lap, confused why the shift.

“If you answer the question,” I bargained, watching her pupils dilate, “I’ll give you whatever you want, however you want it.”

Brainwashing via torture was brutal. It was horrible and ruthless, and shattered a mind in ways nobody in the world could comprehend.

During the Program, we were put through days of torture, weeks. All of us. It was brutal and unrelenting, and it shattered us physically, but mentally? I never broke. Not once. I had no idea what it would have taken for me to be brainwashed into believing something they wanted me to believe, but I knew it was more than what they had done to me.

Whatever they had done to Rae, it was still happening. Every single day she suffered, she just didn’t know it, not until she was this tired, this spent, or her mind was on the right kind of drugs.

She licked her lips, her eyes falling to my lips again. “Even if I just want to kiss.”

I gave her a soft smile, running my thumb over her bottom lip. “Even then, Princess.” Someone had pushed her to the point that, if asked the right questions, her mind started rejecting everything. She deviated, changed the subject. Anything to get out of the uncomfortable situation happening inside of her. Something she probably wasn’t completely aware of. She didn’t know that she was changing the subject, she was programed to do it.

My biggest concern was; was it always sex? If Zo pushed her, if some guy from the club pushed her, would she offer sex as a reprieve? And if so, what the fuck did they do to her to get her to this point?

Her throat bobbed, her lips parting, her hand finding my shirt, gripping into it, her body melting into mine as she leaned in, only for me to stop her.

Fuck, if only she knew how addicted I was to those pretty lips of hers.

“Tell me,” I requested softly. “Who told you that?”

Her head twitched, her body tensing. After a second, she closed her eyes, her face twisting as she tried to remember. It caused a physical reaction, why wouldn’t it?

She shook her head, her forehead falling against mine, a whimper escaping her pouted lips. “Jack, please,” she pleaded, grabbing onto the collar of my shirt. “Please. Please just kiss me,” she breathed out. “Kiss me. I’ll do anything you want. Anything at all.”

My eyes fell closed themselves, my heart beating harder than normal.

Fuck me.

I released her jaw, wrapping my hand around her throat, and pulled her in, pressing my lips against hers.

She moaned, pulling herself closer as her lips worked against mine, slow and sensual, warm, her tongue flitting across my bottom lip, her teeth grazing it, before she slid her tongue against mine.

My head spun and I deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth, sliding my other hand up her thigh, over her ass, feeling the way her body reacted to mine.

Fuck, I couldn’t get enough of her. I would never get enough of her.

Her hands slid under the collar of my shirt, her nails digging into my neck as she pulled herself closer, trying to twist herself around, the arms of the chair preventing her from doing much of anything.

Fuck it.

I tightened my grip on her and stood, her body easily flipping around, her legs wrapping around my hips, her kiss intoxicating as she grinding her hips slowly against me, her moan sliding against my tongue.

She broke the kiss, her breathing labored as I carried her to the couch. “I wanna be on top,” she panted and pressed her lips back to mine.

My hands tightened around her thighs. Anything she wanted. Anything in the world and it was hers.

I sat down, her knees falling to either side of my hips as she rocked herself into me, her hands sliding down my chest to my sweats, my cock throbbing for her. Aching. I needed to be inside of her. I needed to feel her wrapped around me, taking what she wanted until she found her own end. I needed to hear her cries of pleasure as she used me.

She pulled me out, lifted herself up, and slowly sat back down.

I broke the kiss, groaning, fighting the urge to slam my hips up to meet her as her lips found my neck, kissing and nipping, her hips rolling. Slowly at first and then faster.

Rolling and sliding up and down, a perfect rhythm to hit that sweet spot inside of her.

Faster and faster.

Harder until she was basically using her weight to slam herself onto me as she rocked her hips back and forth, her moans filling the air.

“Fuck, Jack,” she panted, grabbing the collar of my shirt my hands sliding up to her hips, my eyes trained on her face as she fucked me.

God, I was so fucking lucky. She was so goddamn beautiful, her moans a fucking song as the slapping of our arousal filled the room, my own moans joining in to form a beautiful little melody.

An hour later, she was still on the couch, curled under a blanket while a B-Rated horror movie played. She had long since fallen asleep, and I was back at my computer, this time looking up Mrs. Delcott.

Nora Delcott, wife of Paul Delcott. He came from money, but she was the breadwinner. She was an Art Director in LA, one of the more well-known ones. It made sense for Marla’s cover story that she would be friends with Nora, but why wouldn’t Nora speak with Rae that night?

Had she avoided her on purpose, or did she simply not see Rae at all?

My phone started vibrating on the table and I answered it quickly, sending a glance to Rae, her body unmoving. “What?” After everything I had done to her, I needed some rest too, but I was glad she was getting some.

“I found Charlotte’s birth certificate,” Malachi informed me. “No father to be listed, Doctor was killed, nurses dead, OBGYN dead.”

I leaned back, brows furrowing. “Why kill them? Marla?” Someone was trying very hard to erase her entire life before her mother died. What was the point of it? And who had done it? Was it the soldier or the boss?

“Not unless she thought they were in grave danger.”

Fuck. “I already sent her blood in, they should have results soon,” I reminded him. Taking her blood had been easy enough. She wouldn’t have noticed the slight pain from the injection spot due to the pain I had covered her body in, so there would be no questions even if she hadn’t been in a near coma from what I had done to her. We’d find her father eventually. If he wasn’t dead himself, maybe he had the answers we needed to solve this. “Did she have any partners?”

“Marla worked alone. That’s how they always did things.”

I sighed and grasped the bridge of my nose. Not really what I wanted to hear. “Alright,” I dropped my hand. “I think I found a lead here.”

“Let me know.”

I hung up and pulled up Nora’s financial records. After an hour, I concluded that she and Marla had a buyer-seller relationship. Nora bought her pieces every few months, hung them in her galleries. On paper it looked legit, but nothing about this was, of that, I was sure. The only thing left to do was talk to her.

I called her secretary just as Zo walked in.

“Mrs. Delcott’s office.”

“Is Mrs. Delcott around? I have a few questions regarding her latest piece,” I said in greeting, giving Zo a nod.

The woman on the other end was quiet, the sound of her keyboard clacking away meeting my ears as I watched Zo lean over the couch and check Rae’s breathing.

I rolled my eyes.

“She’s in her office across town right now. She should be finishing up her meetings for the day, can I get a message?”

I hung up and glared at Zo. “I didn’t kill her.”

“She looks like she’s been through a battle,” Zo frowned. “What the fuck do you boys do to these girls?”

I stood. “Whatever we have to in order to make them comply. I have some errands I have to run. Watch her.”

She gripped the back of the chair. “For how long? I need some dick too.”

“I don’t know,” I replied, pulling on my suit jacket. I picked up my leather jacket from the back of the couch and placed it over Rae. “Should have gotten your cunt wet earlier. It’s not my problem if you decided to wait.”

“God, you’re such an ass,” she bit.

I waved her off and headed out the door.

I sat in the car outside of Mrs. Delcott’s office building. The cameras were already disabled. It was evening, the foot traffic slow. It was the perfect time to kidnap someone.

It took twenty minutes for her to finally walk out of her building. She was so distracted by her phone, she didn’t see me coming.

Injecting her with a good dose of ketamine was easy, it took seconds, and nobody saw a thing. I caught her when she collapsed, shifting my expression to panic and fear. “Oh my God,” I panted, patting her face. “Nora? Nora, wake up!”

I shook her violently. “Nora!” I gasped, glancing around as if I needed help, but hardly a soul looked my way, even as I swept her up in my arms.

This was why I was considering training Rae. She could be kidnapped in broad daylight and not a single person would blink a fucking eye.

“Is she okay?” A passerby finally asked as I headed for the street.

“I don’t know,” I whimpered. “Please, please, help me get her to my car. Mr. Delcott is going to fire me for this one, I’m sure of it.”

The man rushed with me across the street, opening the door for me. “There’s a hospital right down the street, man.”

“Thank you,” I said, buckling her in. I straightened and took his hand, shaking it aggressively. “Thank you so much, thank you.”

He nodded. “Go.”

I rushed to the driver’s seat, slammed the door, buckled up, and sped away, my expression hardening. Rae was surely going to hate me when I started training her, but this made it unavoidable. I wouldn’t allow her to be put in a situation like this.

So vulnerable, so blind to her surroundings. Fuck that, she was going to be a fighter. If she didn’t want to be, I’d make her.

It was a couple hour’s drive to get back to that cathedral, but after we shut it down, I thought of no better use for it than to claim it as my own.

A workshop for my own needs.

Out in the woods where nobody could hear anyone scream, it was perfect. In fact, I should bring Max here. Being bound and gagged in my place only kept me from moving Rae in. If I moved him here, cleaned the place up a bit, I could give us a home.

Although after all of this bullshit, I wanted to ask her if LA was a place she truly wanted to stay. If not, I’d get her a place wherever she wanted. Anywhere in the world. So long as she was there when I got back from my assignments, I’d be okay. Even better if she decided she wanted to join me on them.

I pulled up to the closed wrought iron gates, pressed in the code some Initiates had programmed into it, and drove through, the gates shutting behind me.

They had worked fast. Good for them.

Before I got out of the car, I put on some black face paint and pulled on my mask. I heaved her out of the back of the car and carried her into the church. It didn’t take me long to find a chair and drag she and it to the basement. The Initiates already stocked the place with everything I needed as if they knew I would find a good use for it.

I suppose they weren’t as stupid and useless as Azrael claimed them to be.

I zip tied each ankle to a leg, cinching them down until her circulation was just about cut off before zip tying her hands behind the back of the chair.

Lastly, I wrapped a chain around her neck, padlocking it tightly before looping one end over a pipe above her, pulling on it and weighing it down to keep her taut and on the verge of suffocation.

I finally took off my jacket and tie before pulling on some leather gloves, grabbing a pair of pliers, pulling up a chair, and finally sitting down. I gave her a good dose of ketamine, but it had been a few hours, so she should be waking up soon.

I studied her carefully, studied the way she was sitting, wondering how they had locked Rae up if my thoughts on her torture were right.

She had no scarring on her wrists or ankles, her neck was clear too. If they held her down, they made sure it didn’t cut her skin, but my guess was they just didn’t restrain her.

Nothing about how she acted showed me that she was trained to fight. They wouldn’t have had to hold her down to hurt her, they just needed to keep her in a room. Probably a small one. Maybe they used a hose to wear her down before cutting her, stabbing her. Maybe they had starved her, forced her to listen to white noise, made her stay awake. The best way to make a mind crack is to take away sleep.

Or maybe Marla had trained her well and those people had done all of that anyway. If you held a person long enough, they would break, no matter how strong their mind was, they would always break.

With each passing thought, my anger grew. Even picturing her locked up in a room, helpless, defenseless, it made me see red.

I shoved myself up and walked up to Nora. “It’s time to wake up, dear Art Director,” I spoke, grabbing her jaw and gazing into her mouth. As soon as I caught sight of that cyanide capsule, cleverly hidden in place of one of her back molars, I carefully pinched it with those pliers and jerked it out in one swift pull.

She jerked awake with a cry. “Fuck,” she grunted, blood dripping from her lips.

I tossed the pliers and capsule to the ground, and grabbed her jaw again, forcing her eyes to find mine. “Nora,” I sang, her eyes slowly focusing. “Hello, Nora,” I smiled when realization finally hit her.

Fear filled her eyes instantly.

I stepped back, watching as she struggled and screamed, fighting to get out, only tearing her wrists and straining her shoulders. I allowed it only because it would tire her out. The more tired she was the easier it would be for me to get the answers I needed.

It didn’t take her long to realize the chain around her neck cut her oxygen in half. Her eyes started to roll, tears streaming down her face. “Money,” she panted, her body sagging a bit, “if you want money—”

“Why does everyone always offer money?” I asked, walking over to the workbench where I had spread out the tools I thought I might want to use. I picked up a three-inch knife. “If I wanted money, Nora, I would have cleaned you out without ever coming in contact with you. Draining bank accounts is easy, everything is online.” I admired the knife as I turned back to her. “I want answers.”

“Answers?” she breathed out, chest heaving. “Answers to what? Let me out of here!” she screamed, only to start coughing when the chain tightened a little around her throat.

I came to a stop in front of her. “Nobody can hear you. Cooperate with me and I’ll let you go back to your perfect little job and your perfect little husband.” A perfect lie to tell anyone in this predicament. She was weak. A little hope was all she needed to get her to spill her secrets.

She swallowed, gasping and grunting for air. “Piece of fucking shit,” she spat, blood splattering outward.

I slammed the knife down into her thigh, a scream ripping from her chest. “Fuck!”

I ripped it out and grabbed her jaw, spit flying with each gasping exhale.

“You fucking asshole,” she panted.

“Marla Bennett, what do you know about her?”

Her brows pulled together. “Marla? Why do you want to know about her?”

I released her jaw and lifted the knife again.

“Fine! Fine,” she seethed. “Marla Bennett, uh…” she shook her head. “Marla, she…” Her eyes found mine again. “She supplied me with beautiful paintings. We did a few business transactions in the past. I was heartbroken to hear about her murder.”

Yes, I could tell by the sorrow in her eyes. “Did you ever meet her daughter?”

“Rae? Of course. I met her twice. Once when she was 4, the other a couple of years ago. Marla brought her to a Gala. She appreciated a few of the paintings, only the ones her mom had supplied me with though. I don’t know if she knew that her mom had bought them or what, but she had an eye for art. Loved them.”

Didn’t explain her reaction. “You saw her at the masquerade, why didn’t you speak with her?”

Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Who are you? Some boyfriend? Her feelings got hurt so she had you kidnap me? That fucking psychopath.”

I slammed the knife into her shoulder, ripping another scream from her lungs. I grabbed the top of the chain and jerked up, lifting her from the chair, cutting off her air. “You’ve got it wrong, sweetheart. I’m the psychopath. You’re the victim.” I released the chain and straightened, turning away from her. “Someone in a white mask poisoned my girl that night, and as far as I can tell, you’re one of a very few that wore one. So,” I went on, turning back to her, “tell me why you did it.”

Tears were pouring down her face as she shook her head. “Please,” she said, her voice hoarse. “Please just kill me. They’ll kill me anyway if you let me live, so please. I’ll tell you what you want if you just kill me.”

Change of tune. “I don’t do bargains.” I was planning on killing her anyway, but she made me angry.

She sucked in her lips, her blood staining her shirt, her pants. “Okay,” she nodded, sniffing. “I loved Marla, beautiful soul, her daughter was kind, good—”

“But,” I interjected.

She released a shuddering breath. “There are powers in this city, in this country, far greater than you could ever possibly understand,” she bit. “I don’t know what the Bennett’s did to make them angry, but I promise you, you are fighting a losing battle.”

I chuckled. “There is no power greater than mine. You poisoned her.”

“No,” she rushed. “No, I promise. I was told to wear a white mask and avoid her, that’s all. Just wear a white mask and avoid her all night.”

My chin lifted. “Who told you this?”

“I received a letter signed ‘Gage’. That’s all it said. Avoid Ms. Bennett, wear a white mask.”

Fuck, back to square one. “Do you know names of the others in the white masks?”

She thought about it. “Uh…um…” she shook her head. “It’s…Carrie James, uh…Benji Kerse, and…and…” she struggled against her restraints again. “Oh,” she said, finding my eyes. “Donald Nobal.”

I straightened at that. “Donna,” I corrected.

She shook her head. “Donald. Donald Nobal. Now please, please kill me.”

Donald. Not Donna, Donald.

I ripped the knife out of her shoulder and spun on my heel. “Don’t worry, Nora, you’ll have a playmate soon enough.”