Page 23 of Vengeful Eyes
“Benjamin?”
No one calls me that. No one but her. It’s personal to me, as was she before this. I don’t know what to do with these feelings—hate, paranoia, revenge, relief—they’re all here, mixing and coursing through my veins, boiling beneath my skin. I shake, my hand rattling the gun around slightly. She slows everything in my line of sight, eyes focused on mine. She knows this shit, saw it early on when she first came on board and business wasn't settled.
“It’s me, Hope,” she placates, walking forward a few steps. I don’t know who she is, though, or if she's on my side at all. Don’t know whose side she’s on anymore.
She looks around her, glancing at the doors along the side of the room. She’s so fucking pretty, even now. “Put the gun down, Benjamin.”
I hold it steadier, wondering why she wants me to do that. They’re here. They’re everywhere. They might be outside that door right now. I flick my eyes to it,then back. They could even be her.
“It’s okay, please,” she says, her hand reaching forward.
My finger pulls the trigger twice, sending two rounds into the wall behind her, barely skimming her head as they go. She ducks and scuttles sideways to the floor, her eyes full of fear as she yelps out her surprise.
“Don’t fucking move,” I growl. I’ll kill her if she doesn’t back the fuck off. I glare at her as she curls herself into a ball and hovers there, hands wrapped around her knees. “Where have you been?” One fucking chance. Just one. If I don’t like the explanation, she’s as dead as the bodies Luca’s cleaning up for me.
“Anya’s house with Torino.” My brow furrows, gun still aimed at her head from across the space.
“Why?”
“Tony. She needed to know about him.” The sound of his name from her lips has whatever sanity I’m clinging onto exploding out of me. I storm over, the gun pressed into her skull before she can blink.
“What do you know?” She doesn’t move a muscle under the metal I’m holding against her. Doesn’t cry or yelp out in fear. “Who the fuck are you?” She just looks at me from beneath it, eyes directed at mine keeping that goddamn calm she’s so good at.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
She does. She knows something. She must. My eyes narrow, watching her to gauge her reactions.
“I just… I just went to Anya. Told her.”
“I told you to stay in the fucking car.” Her damned eyes drop to the floor, both of them searching for a way out of her fucking predicament. I’ll show her a way out of it in a minute if she doesn’t start talking. It’ll be through the fucking window behind me. “Why didn't you answer your phone? “
“It’s dead. I was with you, so I didn't think it mattered and…” Lies. Fucking lies. “And Anya needed to know…” The back of my hand has sent her sideways before she can speak any further lies, the gun still in my grip. She tumbles and whimpers, her blonde hair streaming across the carpet as I point it back at her head.
“You’re part of it, aren’t you?” Tears come then, her hand coming to her face to cover a split lip. I’ve never seen tears from her before. They’re fucking useless here. I don’t give a damn about any more distractions. “You told them, didn’t you, Hope? Told them where to find my goods.” She coughs out a sob and tries to pull up against me, her head pushing back into the metal.
“Told who what? I haven't…” I shove the gun back against her so quick she splays out on the floor again.
“What else would make you disobey me?” More fucking sobs and tears. I snarl at them and drop over her, my knees planted each side of her body. “You know what happens when you disobey. Are they paying you?” My hand reaches for her hair. She shakes her head under me, a grunt coming as I yank her face back to me and push the metal into her cheek. “You’re hiding something. Talk before I blow this pretty head off your shoulders.” It is fucking pretty. Always has been.
My dick hardens, blood rolling through my body. I’ll fuck it out of her if I have to.
Or maybe I’ll just fuck her anyway.
Fuck her until I kill the bitch.
The barrel rolls over her skin, indenting as I remember Tony’s dead eyes. It’s her. I know it’s her. Must be. There isn’t another leak in my team; no one would dare do that. My head whips around to a sound behind me, my gun coming with it to aim at the threat.
No one. Fuck.
I shake my head, focusing on Hope again. She smells so good like this, too good. Maybe it's not her. Maybe it's Cane. It’s confusing. Or this room is. I growl at myself, yanking on her hair to get some fucking reality in my grasp.
“Benjamin, please…” she stutters. I look back at her, replacing the gun to her cheek.“Please. I’m yours. I wouldn’t do anyt—” I push it into her face some more and travel my other hand down her legs to pull her dress up. Maybe getting my dick in her will bring out the lies or make me think clearer. She wouldn't lie, would she? She must have, though.I'll hurt her, make her tell me. Then I'll know if it's her or them.
I grind the metal in again, watching as the flesh purses under my weight. “You didn't do as you were told, Hope. Why?” My hand levers my belt buckle open, and I grab at my dick to pull it out. She doesn't answer as I yank her dress higher, doesn't even move under me as I force my hand between her thighs and fuck my fingers into her cunt. The gun draws down her cheek, pressing between her lips. “You not gonna talk?” Still nothing but a slight tremble and the occasional moan. It infuriates me further, readying me to pull this trigger after I've fucked the last breath from her.
Her body loosens around my hand, legs opening slightly for access.A violent growl leaves me. This isn't going away because she's pacifying me, or because I'll come inside her, and the gun being pushed inside her mouth tells her that. She gags around it, but I don’t care. I pull my hand back and manoeuvre so I can shove my dick all the way in. I force it in harder than normal, driven on by the dry lining of her cunt around me. It sends her throat further onto the barrel, a choking sound gurgling out as my hand holds her head down.
“You fucking lied,Hope,” I snarl as I slam into her.
