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My girl left about thirty minutes ago after Gina came for her. While I love and trust Mariah, right now she needs protection. More than one available gun.
I’m past being civil or being rational. They’ve been poking the wrong beast, and I’ll show my next hand soon enough. My ducks are in a row, and the last piece is about to make an appearance.
Promise to be home before your show starts. Wouldn’t dream of missing an episode of the cheesy goodness you love so much. ~Malcolm
Three small dots appear on the screen. Then they disappear. Then start again.
This goes on for a few minutes. However, once her reply comes through, I can’t stop the laughter from bubbling out. That, or the way my cock twitches at her words.
Was that sarcasm I detect in your letters? ~Twirl
Are you being bratty, Mr. Asher? Do you need a spanking? ~Twirl
The thought of my hands reddening those luscious cheeks is very appealing. A cock-throbbing little fantasy I’ll make a reality soon enough. I’ll push her boundaries a bit. Make her crave more.
After the way she perfectly worshipped my cock, I know her desires match mine. That she’s the one the Lord above used my rib to mold. For me.
London’s been saving herself for me without knowing.
But more importantly, there’s another truth I uncover with each passing day. My own confession.
This cheeky little thing means everything to me. I love her.
Careful, little girl. This man does bite. Spanks too if you want. ~Malcolm
Her reply is instant. And so is the shiver than rushes down my spine and then settles on the tip of my dick.
Promises. Promises. ~Twirl
At six on the dot, I find myself walking down the stairway toward the holding cells a few floors below the bank. The lighting is low, and it takes me a moment to adjust as I cross the threshold and into a very interesting show.
They don’t notice me, and that’s okay. I prefer to watch for a few minutes.
Undoing my jacket, I lay it on a chair near the entrance as a laceration appears on Jimmy’s brow. Next, my fingers undo the buttons of my shirt, one by one, and then leave it atop the jacket as Javier delivers another bare-knuckle blow to Jimmy’s midsection.
Closely followed by two more, and the prisoner’s screams mute the sound of the large door closing.
The air meets my chest while the energy within the room flows around me, taunting, igniting my need for blood.
For a few weeks now, I’ve been playing nice. I’ve been understanding.
That ends here.
Today, I begin my reign of justice.
Carmelo steps back from Jimmy, letting the man go so he can swing on the chain. He’s bloody and crying, begging them to stop. Each of my men shake their heads, knowing that what comes next is the kind of mindfuck most can’t handle.
“Shut the fuck up,” Javier growls, fist connecting with Jimmy’s jaw. The man’s head snaps back as blood splatters the ground below and Javi. “Why did you vacate the security kiosk without letting anyone know? Why did you let Agent Hayes come and go as he pleased?”
“I was calling my pregnant wife back. She’s been feeling off?” A lie. Stupid, stupid man. “Swear it, Javier. You can call and ask her.”
“Bullshit.” Carmelo walks toward a small table nearby and picks up a gun—he cocks it back and points it straight at his chest. “I’m going to give you one more chance to—”
“Enough.” Everyone stops and looks at me. Two with a bit of mirth, and the last, Jimmy, with fear. A fear that manifests itself in perspiration and tears. To a rapid growing wet stain that appears at the front of his pants the closer to them I get. “He’s telling the truth.”
Relief, pure unadulterated relief pours out of him in tears. Pathetic.
“Oh, thank God,” he whimpers, falling to the ground as Javier releases the locking mechanism on the pulley system for chains. “Mr. Asher, I don’t know what’s going on here. I’ve never done anything to jeopardize the business or those you associate with. I’m a worker. Just a foot soldier.”
