Page 38 of Tortured Eyes
The sound of something tumbling to the ground brings me back to the moment, head stilling to calculate where it came from. I smile and wander further towards my study, still able to hear her sweet moans in my thoughts.
“Here, kitty, kitty,” I muse, shoulder leaning on the doorframe.
I look around and eventually find her hovering in the corner, her back pressed against some of the bookshelves. She glances at me, eyes wide, and then at the laptop. No movement, though.
“What are you doing in here, Red?”
“The door was open,” she says, shaking her head. She knocks it twice with her hand, seemingly annoyed with the repercussions of that drug still floating about inside her. I scan her body, nothing but panties and a bra to cover her bruises. Looks good on her. Makes my dick hard and my thoughts wander to anything but killing. Still, forgiveness isn’t happening any time soon. She’s going to feel everything she’s done to my family, in more ways than one.
“Do you want a drink?” I ask, walking towards the wet bar. She shakes her head again and sidles along the bookshelves, presumably heading for the door behind me. I don’t know why. It’s not like I’m being a cunt right now. “There’s no way out, Red. Have a fucking drink and calm your ass down.”
She waivers and knocks into the desk, fingers trying to grip it for stability. I just keep pouring the drinks, making hers a double so she can ease off her high gradually. I eventually put it in front of her, helping her get to a chair.
“Sit. It’ll wear off soon,” I muse, looking her over.
She stumbles and falls ass-first into the seat, a hard shove from me making sure she gets there. Fucking anything near-dead isn’t something I’m interested in, no matter how much shit she’s had in her system. And I want her awake for what I’m about to deliver. Awake, focused, and listening. Bitch needs to understand, have her world blown apart before I end it for her. She’s no fucking idea who she targeted. Me—I could have coped with. I would have made it clean and swift, but not him—not Nate.
“Where am I?” she slurs, grabbing a blanket off the couch.
“Does it matter?”
“Yes. I…” Her head shakes again, hands trying to wipe over her face. “I need to know.”
“My house.” I look around the room’s dark wood panelling, unsure if anything about this place suits me. Or maybe it’s just the thought of Chicago in general. “Not home. House. You look pretty in it, though. Change the dynamic a little. Have that drink. It’ll help ease you off.”
“The fuck, Logan?”
“Drink. I’ve got a story to tell you. You won’t like it.”
After a beat, she quickly downs it and offers up the glass for another. I chuckle and refill, eventually finding my way to the chair opposite her. "You're right. Cane has been corrupt. I certainly am. Everything you think you know,whatever you've been looking into? Probably true." She frowns and sips her drink, pulling her legs up to get settled in as if she's ready for any story I've got. I look her over, wondering how settled she's gonna be by the end of this. "Your arrogance, though? That's what's brought you here. Didn't look any further than what? Some files? Some written fucking words that showed only what someone decided to relay into them?" My head tips back, eyes staring at the ceiling as I sigh. So naïve. So goddamned moronic. "You got a good man killed because of your stupidity, Red."
"I didn't…"
"Close that fucking mouth. Listen. You want to know how it works? Shut up."
The sound of silence eases my tone again, and then it all starts to pour out of me as I keep staring at the ceiling. Years of it. Some of it from before I was even born. Her father's era, I guess. Corruption. The reasons why murders happen, the reasons why drugs rule everything. The fact that Cane was untouchable back then, still is to some degree. Every fucking tale I've got of dirty cops and dirty governors and dirty politicians, all of them pocketed by my family over the years, they all spill out of my mouth as if it's a litany of pride. And then I start on New York. On Vico and everything I've done for him. Ghosts in shadows. Devils in the dark.
I look back to her and down my drink, reaching for the bottle to fill it again straight after. Never said this to anyone before, never talked it through. Feels good in some way. "You wonder why I've treated you the way I have? It's because you have less than no fucking idea what you've done. And that pisses me off. You flashed that badge as if it gave you some divine right to interfere. It didn't." I down another drink, then stand and reach for a smoke, my hand shaking. "Your badge means nothing to me or my world. In fact, it's less than nothing. You're a goddamned insect. One I should have already crushed." I light the cigarette and inhale, gazing at her serious face as I blow out. "But amusing as that would be, watching you hurt is more interesting. How's it feel to find out your job is worthless? There's nothing you will ever be able to do to stop the likes of me. We're unstoppable."
