Page 155 of Stabby Little

"No one is my master. I control myself."

"You don't know how badly you fucked up." A droplet of blood trickles down from where I penetrate his flesh. "My father and uncles won't show you mercy. You destroyed their entire operation and drew federal attention."

Ollie spits at my feet. "I hope I fucking did. The feds should shut your family down."

"No. One. Fucks. With. My. Family."

I drag the knife across his belly and run it over his cock. Ollie struggles against his bonds as he tries to get away from me, to escape his fate. But he can't. The zip ties Miles and Linda lashed around his wrists while he was passed out hold him tight and prevent him from moving.

Michael approaches me from behind and massages my shoulders. "Not that big, is it, baby."

"No, Uncle Michael."

"Why don't you play with Ollie's cock, baby?"

My Uncle and I have gotten closer than ever this past week. After I told him about Trevor, he said I was too beautiful to be brokenhearted. He flew me to his estate in South Florida and we had the house to ourselves. We romped around the beach and laughed as we snorkeled in the warm water.

One night, after he gave me too much champagne, he laid me down for a massage and told me he had feelings for me. I'd sensed his eyes on me for years, but I didn't realize he wanted me. His eyes contained a hunger I couldn't place. I spread my legs and welcomed him into my body, feeling complete for the first time in my life. Michael let me know I wasted years chasing after boys like Trevor—losers who could never satisfy me. The only person for me was him.

I bend over. "Okay, Daddy."

"I'll fuck your nineteen-year-old pussy while you suck Ollie's cock. Okay, angel?"

"Yes, Daddy. It's what I want."

"Get hard." I glare at Ollie.

Ollie attempts to kick me despite the zip ties binding his feet to the water pipe. “Get away from me."

That's when the sound of military-grade helicopters scream overhead.

47

GRANT

There it is.

The house where Michael's holding Ollie.

I zip my black tactical gear and tighten my grip on my AK-47. I pull my ski mask over my face as Demetri maneuvers the helicopter over the house. In the driveway, Michael's familiar black limousine sits next to a broken brick wall, the front headlights smashed.

I don't doubt he destroyed that shit on his way here. He was in a fucking hurry.

My gut twists into knots when I stare at the house rising in front of me. It's a nondescript suburban home flounced by landscaped bushes and sapling trees that draw inspiration from every other home on the block. There's nothing unique about it—it's certainly not the place where you'd expect vicious traffickers to torture boys. But my memory doesn't lie. This is the place where Michael tortured Kobe.

My gut tells me Ollie's inside awaiting his fate.

Nikolai's voice cuts through the whir of the chopper blades. "Are you ready?"

I tighten my grip on my AK-47. "Hell yes."

"We only have one chance to pull this off. If we fuck up, he's dead."

My eyes turn to slits. "Jagger and I have worked in the underworld for years. We won't fuck this up."

Igor clasps my shoulder. "Buzz me on your walkie-talkie if you need backup. I'll leap out of the chopper and join you."

My eyes lock on Igor's. "I appreciate your assistance."

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