“I don’t want to know,” I reply before I can stop myself. Just considering the many ways Fien could have been conceived has me all types of jealous. I don’t need more insanity added to the mix.
Although Rocco’s lips remain tightly locked, the gleam in his eyes tells me it’s a number I don’t want acknowledged. It makes my stomach swirl with more intensity than my wish to fall into a drunken stupor last night. I feel seconds from barfing.
Eager to test the durability of my stomach, Rocco asks, “How many women do you think he’s slept with since you arrived on the scene?”
My words are barely audible through my clenched teeth. “If you say more than one, you better hope your gun isn’t loaded, or I may blow someone’s brains out.”
I don’t know whether to gleam or cry when Rocco’s boisterous laugh vibrates through my chest. It doubles the thump in my head while adding to the twists of my vodka-sloshed stomach. “Chick, chick boom! That’sexactlywhat I’m talking about. You’re so fucking under, even with the blood of your mommy on the cuff of his shirt, you still wanted to take his dick between your lips.”
His chuckled words are like a cold, hard slap to the face. They bring me back to reality even more than the jab my heart was just hit with. “He tortured my parents.”
“To save you being buried in the same ditch his wife is most likely in.” As quickly as Rocco’s laughter arrived, it vanishes. “Why do you think he didn’t kill them?”
Although I know the answer, I’d rather he spell it out for me, so instead of nodding, I shrug instead.
“Because the man is snowballing for you. You’ve got him so twisted up, he doesn’t know which end is up and which end is down. He’s got guilt by the bucketloads, remorse that won’t quit even when he works to the bone for twenty-four hours a day, and a hard-on for you that stays firm no matter how much you piss him off… but he has no clue how to deal with any of it. He thinks that by giving you an hour, he’s taking an hour from Fien, so imagine how fucked-up he feels when he realizes he wants to give you more than an hour.” He scoots to the edge of his seat before tapping his tattooed index finger on my knee. “He wasn’t like this with his wife. He didn’t beat her father because he hurt her or offer mercy to her mother to save her from being hurt. He didn’t care about her enough to even ask if she’d been hurt. That should say something, and it should have you playing on the same team.”
Although I agree with him, there’s one part of his statement I can’t fix. “I can’t ease his guilt, Rocco.”
He brushes off the genuine concern in my voice as if it’s fake. “Yeah, you can. You’ve just got to stop thinking you need to save him. He doesn’t need saving. And neither do you.” He lets out a chuckle. Even only knowing him for days, I know it isn’t his real laugh. “You can’t save someone who’s drowning if you don’t know how to swim.”
My chance to reply is lost when the driver pulls in to the curb at the front of Frosty Kinks. As the 3D imagery on Smith’s computer showed, it’s a seedy, low-grade establishment that would have lost clientele when they stopped accepting pennies.
Rocco throws open his door before locking his eyes with mine. “Wait here with Smith, I’ll be back in a minute.”
“No,” I reply while shaking my head. “I can’t learn to swim if I’m not willing to jump into the deep end.” After scooting across the bench seat and slipping out onto the sidewalk, I shift my focus to Smith. “Call the airstrip and advise them we’re on our way. Offer them an incentive to ensure our time slot is held. If snow arrives early, our fastest transport home will take days. Dimitri will never forgive himself if his first slip-up in years delays the search for Fien for days, even if the weather is to blame.”
“Now she gets it,” Rocco says with a smile as he slings his arm around my shoulders. “Now bring that bat to the game, so we can knock some sense into this neanderthal before he crawls into his cave for another long hibernation.”
Five
Dimitri
As I make my way through the dimly lit space that gets shadier for every tanked step I take, I scan my eyes over the flurry of women vying for my attention. I’m drugged-out on the good shit I usually reserve for ‘guests,’ too drunk to feel my legs, and I’m reasonably sure I look like a pimp since I switched out my suit for a pair of gray sweatpants and a black baseball jacket, but the women lining the walls of the back room at Frosty Kinks still look at me like I’m a god.
Although the outside of this establishment is as shoddy as hell, I’m reasonably sure I’m not the only high-end john they cater for. No one pays attention to the packaging when ordering a steak to devour. It’s all about the quality. The women eyeing me with hungry, wanton gazes aren’t as high-class as the ones who prance around my compounds, but they’ve definitely piqued the interest of my cock. He’s almost at half-mast. Another line of coke should see him reluctantly joining the party.
He’s pissed at me, frustrated I won’t let him finish what he started two nights ago. He’s not the only one annoyed, but since I’m miles from my compound, spaced out of my brain, I’ll keep that story for another day.
Right now, nothing but forgetting my pathetic life for a few hours is on my mind. I’ve snorted the drugs and sculled the whiskey, now I just need a plump set of lips to seal the deal.
When I spot a woman who matches the one who won’t leave my fucking head, I stumble to her half of the room. The bottle I chugged down in the dusty lot has finally reached my veins, meaning it isn’t just my footing that’s a little unsteady, so are my words. “How much?”
She bats her fake lashes, ignorant to the fact I’m already sold on what she’s selling. “For you, I’ll work for free.”
“How much?” I repeat, shouting. I’m not seeking a relationship, commitment, or any of those other fucked-up things women seem to think they’ll get from a casual hook-up. I want my dick sucked, and I’m willing to pay for the privilege.
When the blonde spots her competition hovering close, she pushes out, “Five hundred.” Her fee is much less than I expected to pay. I would have forked out five thousand if that’s what she requested.
After pulling my wallet out of the pocket in my sweats, I toss a handful of hundred-dollar bills onto the floor before pivoting on my feet and making my way to the room the manager of Frosty Kinks set up especially for me. I rarely branch outside of my industry for services like this. However, his respect won’t go unnoticed. His girls will give my guests a pleasing array of new faces next month.
Because the blonde had to collect her earnings from the floor, it takes her a couple of seconds to join me in a pod similar to the one I spanked Roxanne in days ago. Just recalling the heat of her skin when my palm connected with her ass has my cock rising to the occasion. I’m almost as thick as I was when I stuck my dick in her for the first time, although nowhere near as firm.
Even fucked out of my head, my words still crack out of my mouth like a whip. “Close the door.”
The blonde shudders from my roar before doing as instructed. My family name doesn’t have the notoriety it once had, but my reputation is well known. I don’t want my desperateness to get a feisty bleach-blonde with gleaming green eyes out of my head circulated amongst my enemies. Those fuckers are already riding my ass. I can’t give them more fuel.
Pissed, my next lot of demands are almost abusive. “Remove your skirt and bra but leave your panties on.” I don’t want her for her cunt. I want her for her lush green eyes and fuckable lips. “Once you’re done, get on your knees.”
