Page 11 of The Taker

“Turn around.”

I turn, letting him bend me and bring my hips out enough that I need to steady myself with my hand on the wall. Looking over my shoulder, I see him pop two fingers into his mouth and move them in and out, hear the wetness as he gathers his spit. He rubs it onto my rim before gently pushing one finger inside.

The slight stretch is enough to relax me into opening up. He takes me in hand, pumping my cock and working me into a needy mess as he works me up to a second finger.

“Christ, you’re tight,” he grunts.

“I bet he is. Thanks for getting him started for me,” a familiar voice rings out through the darkness.

My stomach drops in fear yet my cock kicks up, the opposite reactions giving me whiplash. If not for the wall supporting me, my knees would give out.

Please, universe. No.

But it seems the universe isn’t on my side tonight. She’s probably laughing her ass off at me.

A shadowed figure stands next to my nameless stranger, his hand gripping his shoulder. A strobe light shines through the hallway, illuminating Rocco Vettore’s face and the gun he has pressed to my stranger’s neck. His jaw is tense and a murderous gleam shines in his eyes as they narrow on where my stranger’s fingers are knuckle deep inside me.

“Get your fingers out of my toy’s asshole, or I’ll put a hole in your carotid artery,” he growls in a deep, ominous voice that makes the need coiling inside me practically snap. I shake as I take in his menacing expression.

The stranger complies, and the emptiness I feel is nothing compared to the unbidden lust and staggering fear coursingthrough my veins right now. I’m not sure if I want to run or drop to my knees.

“Hey, I didn’t know he was yours. He told me to fuck him,” the stranger begs.

Rocco doesn’t even dignify him with a response, turning his glare to me. “Put your pants back on. Follow me outside, or I shoot this piece of shit in the hallway.”

My hands shake so badly, I struggle to pull my pants up and adjust myself so I can zipper them closed. Rocco pulls me next to him, then turns on the flashlight on his phone. Everyone scrambles out of the hallway.

“Hold this, shine it in front of us,” he orders, not even looking at me as he thrusts his phone into my hand. I hold it steady enough that we’re able to move further down the hallway, to an unmarked door at the end.

One of Rocco’s hands grips the stranger’s throat as the other holds the gun to the back of his head. The stranger’s crying is the only thing I hear aside from the blood rushing through my ears.

“Open the door,” Rocco grits out. His voice is deceptively calm given the furious expression on his face.

Cold air smacks me in the face as we file out into an alleyway. Old brickwork and the cloying smell of the city—a mix of trash, exhaust fumes, and fried food—surrounds us.

A street lamp and the cars at the far end of the alley provide enough light for me to see a sly, deranged grin spread across Rocco’s face, distorting his handsome features into something demonic. Something so frightening I can barely breathe.

His gun is sleek, black metal with a silencer on the end, much like the one my dad hid in his bedside drawer. I’m not sure if the cold is making me shiver, or the unshakable feeling that something bad is about to happen.

The stranger is sobbing now, his face pale as his tears fall to the pavement. Rocco throws him to his knees.

“P-please don’t kill him!” I manage to say, despite the fear that’s threatening to cave in my chest.

His body is close enough that I can feel his rage fill the alley, wave after wave hitting me. He takes my jaw with his thumb and finger, tilting it up so I’m forced to look at his smug, deceitfully perfect face. He digs his fingertips into my skin, and the pain doesn’t make me feel the way it should.It feels good.

The street lamp creates a preternatural glow behind him, like he’s some kind of dark, merciless being. A demon in the flesh instead of a mortal man.

“Oh, not so brave now, huh? You don’t want to take a bullet for him?” he mocks as he rubs his thumb over my cheek, lighting my entire body up with his touch. “My little lion cub is only brave when it’s my life on the line…I’m touched.”

Grabbing my jaw in his hand, he directs my attention to the stranger on the ground. My whole body vibrates, because I don’t know what to do, or how to stop this.

Or if I want to stop it…

The thought reverberates through my mind as Rocco pulls the trigger, shooting the man in the stomach. Blood rapidly blooms across his shirt. He tips over, coughing and groaning in pain as his life is snuffed out.

“I feel like playing roulette with his life tonight. Let’s see if someone finds him before he dies.” Rocco laughs, as if this man’s survival is truly a game to him. “Leo, you’re going to provide me with so much entertainment.”

I can’t move. I can’t breathe. My eyes are glued to the dying man on the floor.

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