Page 60 of KAI Tortured

“I think this calls for a celebration!” Uncle Leo exclaims. “All drinks are on me!”

The crowd goes wild at the notion of free drinks.

LOGAN

In the last year, I fell in love with Maisy, I nearly died for her a few times, tried killing her, and almost died again.

The life I’ve lived matches one from a movie. A life on the edge. Especially the last part, just before we burned the Slav headquarters down.

While Orion got Maisy out of the house, Kai and I started ransacking it, searching for the gun. We had to find it before the police came, and time was not on our side. The shooting was heard far and wide and they were already on their way. It was lucky for us that the local cops did not want to deal with the New York mafia and were waiting for backup from the city.

We knew the Slavs had a way of recruiting people, and therefore there must have been a stash somewhere of all the videos people were being blackmailed with. And searching for it felt like a long process. We were tearing walls down, breaking furniture; basically, we were destroying anything in our path.

One thing we asked our men was for any dead bodies to be brought inside the house. We knew we’d torch the house when we were done. There was no chance we were leaving evidence for the cops; that was always the plan.

With Orion back, we decided to stay longer and thoroughly search every corner before leaving.

And just when we were running out of time, under the large desk in the office I spotted a small latch in the floor. I pulled on it and there it was: the jackpot. We uncovered a small bunker equipped with advanced technology, wiretaps, hidden microphones, and other forms of electronic monitoring. Milan, and in the last few months, Rosey, must have intercepted hundreds of communications regarding illegal activities, plans for future crimes, or the identities of individuals for whatever reasons they needed them. All the tapes were neatly stacked on one side. And on a shelf, just above the main desk, was a gun with a tape next to it. Kai recognized it as his own gun, the one Maisy shot Natasha with.

“We got what we needed! Burn the house down!” Orion ordered, and took the gun and tape. We were going to personally make sure those were properly destroyed.

I pulled Orion out of the bunker, and as we were leaving, Kai, who had been starting the fires, torched the room. Soon, the fire was eating up everything it reached.

We left the office and moved through the other rooms, setting each one ablaze in turn. Soon after we got out, the whole house was engulfed in flames.

We retreated the same way we got in, through the backyard, and even though our escape route was lit up by the flames, Kai somehow managed to trip on a square stone, the one we’d tried to avoid earlier. He fell to the ground, having injured his foot. Had he not done that, we wouldn’t have seen the name on the memorial stone: R.T.

Right then, as we were wondering if this was where Rebecca Trellis was buried, the whole house collapsed in a pile of ash and rubble. No Slav was left alive.

Except Maisy. She’s a Slav. But she’s ours.

As for the stone, we knew we would be going back there when the dust settled.

When we told everyone about us being brothers, the reviews were mixed. Some loved it; some, the greedier ones, didn’t. They knew with more people in the operation, there’d be less money to split. Tough luck.

But our men are the least of our worries. We set up a meeting between Uncle Jon, Uncle Leo, and Tom. One representative from each family, to agree the terms. Simple. We needed to remove ourselves from everything and focus on Maisy.

She’s been cooped up in her room all this time. And all she does is eat. Which I’m really grateful for, but I want her. My cock aches every night, and when I jerk off, I think of her thighs, of her ass, and of slamming inside her body the way she wants it.

Fuck. I don’t know what else to think about.

I need her.

My only consolation is that she’s with me, in my penthouse. No one has complained about it and she seems to like it here. She hasn’t said anything either, but I know she’ll speak up if she doesn’t like something. Just like she threw away the pregnancy tests I’ve been bringing her with each meal.

From a doctor’s perspective, it’s imperative that we know whether a woman is pregnant so we can provide the needed support.

But from a man’s perspective, I’m fucked.

I know we all agreed that if she’s pregnant, we’ll get it aborted, though it’s true that we didn’t ask for her opinion. However, am I crazy for thinking that I don’t want to go down that route? I would never admit it, because an agreement is an agreement, but fuck. I’m split in half.

One half of me wants to have sex free of consequences with Maisy until we all turn eighty, and the other half wants to procreate with her for the next twenty years.

“Logan?”

I jump, startled. Fuck. I’m in my bed, lying in the dark in my boxer shorts, staring at the lights of Manhattan through the windows. I did not expect her at all. My cock’s okay with it, though; my hard-on is jutting up and making a tent in my shorts. “Maisy, are you okay? Is everything good?”

“Can I lie next to you?” she breathes softly. Wearing a skimpy white top and white panties, she looks angelic. Her hair’s messy, though; I’m not sure if she’s brushed it at all for weeks.

---