Page 5 of With This Ring

“Yeah. Pick your knife. Then we’ll get started.”

Carl looks at me as if I grew two heads.

Irritated with waiting, I snap my hand out and grab his arm and push him against the table. “Pick a fucking knife or I’ll gut you here and now.”

With trembling hands, Carl pulls a large butcher’s knife from the table, holding it out in front of him. “I don’t want to hurt you,” Carl says in a trembling voice, making me smile.

“That’ll never fucking happen. Give us some room,” I tell my guys, who back up.

“Two stacks say Carl will get a slice in,” Nico says.

“I’ll take that bet,” Manuel chimes in.

I snarl at them but keep my eyes on Carl. His wide eyes bounce around, taking me in, probably looking for an opening. Anticipation sings through my veins, my heart thumping, eager for the kill.

Carl roars and runs at me, swinging the blade at me wildly. I step back and dodge the sharp edge. He does get close though—close enough that I feel the wind whipping past my neck.

He curses and advances again, this time, coming at me with stabbing motions. His slashes are easy for me to avoid. I lean away and lash out with my knife, getting a deep gash into his arm. Blood spurts from the wound and Carl curses, dropping the knife he has to press his hand at to the cut. “Fuck! Fuck!”

“Pick the fucking knife back up, Carl. I’m not done with you.”

He knows he’s in a lose-lose situation. So instead of doing what I say, he tries to run. I allow him to get a few paces away before I pull out my favorite blade from its holster and throw it at him. My knife finds its target, burying itself in the middle of Carl’s back. He cries out and falls forward, his hands scrambling at his back to try to remove the instrument impaling him. It’s buried in to the hilt, so he’s out of fucking luck.

I bend to get the butcher’s knife he had and walk over to him. Grabbing him by his greasy hair, I tune out his begging and pleading and drag it across his throat. The gurgling sounds and his gasps are like music to my ears, soothing the frayed nerves that resulted from my scuffle with Carter.

I drop Carl to the ground and toss the butcher’s knife to the floor. Once I’m sure he’s dead, I turn back to Nico and the others. “Clean this up. Cut his hands off and leave him where everyone can see. That’ll teach him to steal from the St. Clair’s.” I tilt my head, watching the blood pool around him, mesmerized. “And send a dozen roses to his wife.” I pull the knife from Carl’s back, wiping the blood on the back of his shirt before sheathing it.

My men snap to, dragging Carl’s body away and pulling the hose from the wall to rinse away the blood. I look down at myself, frowning when I see the blood on my shirt. I’ll haveto leave here through the back entrance, so I don’t scare any patrons. Pop would give me shit for that.

I walk back to the table where my knives are and study them. It’s been far too long since I’ve had fun with them. My fingers ghost over the collection, eager to sink them into someone else’s flesh. Carl was too easy. I need someone I can really play with.

Sighing, I put the blades back down and turn to see that the room is surface level clean. Our housekeepers will have to come in and bleach everything down, but for now, this will do.

I pull my jacket from the hook it’s hanging on and button it up. Looking down, I can’t spot any visible bloodstains, so I’m good in case I run into someone. “Let’s go, Nico.”

His heavy footfalls sound behind me as we ascend the stairs. “You could have let me win that bet,” he grumbles as we pass through the back door on the way to my car.

“Shouldn’t have bet against me, you fucker.” We slide in the backseat of the car and I lean my head back, trying to figure out why that antsy feeling is back. I figured after that fight, I would be on the level. After I dispatched Carl, I felt like I was coming down, but it’s almost as if the scuffle with Carl didn’t take place. It’s like ants are crawling across my skin. I have to fight not to start scratching. I need …something. A release.

“After my shower,” I say to Nico, “get dressed. We’re going to The Devil’s Den.”

I hear the smile in his voice though my eyes are still closed. “Sounds like a good end to the evening.”

CHAPTER 3

KAI

After I get home, I head to Pop’s office to let him know I handled Carl and sent a message. He barely glanced my way before shooing me out, telling me I did what was expected of me. The least he could have done was look me in the eye.

The buzzing under my skin compounds with his dismissal. I’m twenty-six; I shouldn’t still be seeking the approval of my father. Ever since I was a kid, he’s always pushed me to the side when family matters aren’t involved. And sometimes when they were. I should be used to his treatment by now.

Taking the stairs to my room two at a time, not for the first time I think about moving out. Pop wouldn’t notice if I did. He barely notices when I’m here.

Pushing into my room, I strip off the suit I have on and put my clothing in a bag to be burned in the furnace downstairs. Then I step into the shower, cleaning myself up quickly. It’s getting late and I want to get to The Devil’s Den quickly.

The Devil’s Den is an underground kink club that I’ve belonged to for some years. It’s membership only, so not many people that run in my same circles attend. It’s the only place I can get what I need when I’m not having meaningless hookups.

I like being watched. I like when I’m taking a hot little twink hard and men and women see me own his ass. With how I’m feeling, I won’t show whoever is under me any mercy.

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