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“Not everyone. I just know you—all of you—and I love you.” I kiss his wet skin. “Give Elle the chance to do the same.”
He turns to face me and slams his lips into mine. I have half an inch of height over Lance but he more than makes up for it in muscle and bulk. Our kisses are a tug of war of dominance that I fucking love. I’m getting hard again but we definitely don’t have time for that, so I reluctantly pull away.
“So, are you okay? After this morning’s sexcapades?” I wiggle my eyebrows and he snorts out a laugh.
He holds my face in his hands. “Of course I am.” He kisses me gently. “Why wouldn’t I be?” His brows suddenly narrow and worry etches his face, I can practically hear his thoughts, making me laugh.
“You were perfect, don’t look so worried,” I say, hoping to ease the fears I can see rising. “I’m just checking in, it’s called aftercare, handsome. Get used to it.” I smack a kiss on his lips before quickly washing myself.
When we’re towel drying back in his room, he finally answers my question. “I’m more than okay, Hayden. I’ve never been happier than I am right now.”
Well, I’m just a puddle on the floor.
Elle and Brent are waiting for us by the door when we finally emerge dressed and ready to go..
“And I’m the one who gets told off for taking too long to get ready,” she laughs, shaking her head at us.
Before I can spout a witty response, Lance kisses her deeply but quickly, catching her off guard. “I love you, Elle Maxwell. Just know that.”
Then we leave in companionably tense silence, off to induct Elle into the world of The Daos.
46
ELLE
We travel for about forty minutes until we’re on the outskirts of the city to a dilapidated industrial estate that looks creepy, even in the high, midday sun. The sense of foreboding bubbles in me like a geyser ready to blow when we park.
Hopping out of the car, I note that Lance and Hayden have worn suits. They look like high level gangsters, I guess that’s what they are. Brent is still wearing the same outfit that he was wearing when I last saw him yesterday. But they all still look much more intimidating than I do in a simple jumper over skinny jeans. I don’t know what I’m doing here. I told them I wanted to see this, want to see the guy who put the fear of death in me. But now I’m here I’m freaking the fuck out.
As Lance and Brent stride on toward the boarded up warehouse in long, purposeful steps, Hayden slings his arm over my shoulders and holds me back slightly. I look up at him in question and he holds my chin between his thumb and forefinger.
“Just remember, baby, you know us. The real us. Whatever happens in there, we’re no different from the men you’ve welcomed to your bed.” His eyes are pleading, imploring me to understand. Blinking up at him a bit shell shocked, I nod in agreement. “Oh, and try and stay neutral and keep reactions to a minimum, yeah?”
He doesn’t really give me time to answer, pulling me through the rickety old door. The sight inside makes me gasp in shock. I don’t know what I was expecting. Maybe a guy tied to a chair in the middle of a darkened room with a single spotlight shining on him. I may have seen too many movies. Of course it isn’t dark, it’s late morning and although there are boards at some windows, half of them don’t even have any glass. So daylight is streaming in from all different directions, some beams hitting the three—not one, but three—guys hanging from the ceiling. Their armsare stretched wide above their heads, cuffed to chains hanging from the roof. They are all but naked, wearing only boxers, and their feet only touch the ground if they stretch to balance on their big toes. That is shocking enough in itself, but the blood coating each of them and the angry mottled bruising covering almost every inch of their bodies scream of brutality.
“Oh, God,” I swallow. “What happened to them?” I whisper to myself more than to anyone else.
“Brent happened to them, baby.” Hayden answers anyway.
As Hayden keeps his arm slung over my shoulders and pulls us to lean against a wall at a safe distance, Lance glares at the three prisoners with rage and murderous intent.
“These three?Seriously?” He is speaking to Brent, who just nods.
Brent removes the shirt over his white tee and for the first time, I notice the blood spatter across his chest and the splits in his knuckles. He must have really gone to town on the three of them before coming to get us.
Something snaps in Lance and he shouts a string of curses as he drives his fist into one of the guys’ face over, and over. Holy shit. Seeming to pull himself together, he takes a deep cleansing breath through wide nostrils and removes his jacket, unbuttoning his sleeves, and rolling them up to his elbows. Hayden kisses my temple and removes his arm to join the others for a moment.
“So, Sydney was behind this?”
“We can’t be certain until they confirm it.” Lance says, through gritted teeth, his anger barely contained.
I am wholly confused.
Hayden rolls his eyes and turns to the hostages. “Oh Dicky, what are we going to do with you, huh? Now, be a good boy and tell us, did Sydney hire you to break into my girl’s apartment and drop her off as a gift to Lance?”
Dicky? Who’s Dicky? Do they know these guys? I feel like I need a quick play-by-play of the story so far.
“Fuck you, cocksucker,” this Dicky guy sneers at him, impressive given his whole face seems swollen, spitting bloody saliva on the ground at Hayden’s feet. Okay, well that guy deserves his fucked-up face and what is probably some pretty bad internal bleeding.
