Page 25 of Velvet Cruelty

“Yeah, not bad,” Doc says. “Don’t worry, Tesorina. You can’t actually suck-start a gun.”

The girl makes a garbled sound. I glance at Basher. He looks slightly sick, but he can’t take his eyes off her. Whatever he’s feeling, he’ll be beating off about it later.

I thrust the gun deeper into her throat, and she swallows obediently. Looking across, I see Doc palming his cock through his jeans. He grins. “I’ll jack off if you do.”

“Wait your turn.” Eli steps in front of the camera. “Good evening, Parker.”

The amusement goes out of the room like a blown bulb. I twist the gun in the girl’s mouth and she slurps like a porn star. I hope Parker sees it. Hope it burns like battery acid.

“As you can see, we have your fiancée.” Morelli runs a section of the girl’s hair through his fingers. “You’ve kept January Whitehall to yourself since she was a little girl. But she’s ours now.”

Doc laughs, the sound more anticipation than genuine amusement.

Eli drops the strands of hair. “We won’t fuck her, not at first. But we’ll keep you informed of our progress. Little updates, as we help her become a woman.”

I push the gun deeper again. She chokes a little, but she keeps going. She is stronger than I thought she was. “Good,” I tell her. “Good Pryntsesa.”

An icy insect crawls up my neck. I didn’t mean to say that but surely no one heard me. Eli is still talking to Parker; the girl is still sucking and gagging.

“…this is only the beginning,” Eli says to the camera. “If you’re a smart man, you’ll eat your gun. But you’re not a smart man, Parker. So, enjoy the show.”

“That’s enough,” Eli says. “Bobby, stop recording.”

I pull the gun from the girl’s mouth and her lips smack together. She looks at me and for a second, it’s with something other than terror. My gut drops. Pryntsesa. Maybe she did hear me. Then she slides onto the floor, crying in big racking sobs. “I want to go home! I want to go home!”

I wipe the barrel on my T-shirt. “We done?”

“We’re done,” Eli agrees. “Bobby, take the footage, edit it together and send it. Miss Whitehall, if you can stop crying, you can have a suite upstairs. Clean clothes. A big bed to sleep in.”

“I want to go home!”

“She’s too far gone,” Doc says. “She won’t stop whining now.”

My Glock is still in my hand. One bullet between the eyes, faster than heaven. The girl never got to dance for an audience. Adulthood is just another stage she’ll never perform on.

Ell walks to the wall and presses the intercom. “Gretzky? We’re finished. Bring Harvey and Sal and a cleaning kit. I want the girl in the basement and the entrance hall cleared. Now.”

The basement. The little cage Morelli built to keep people we’re not ready to kill yet.

“I want all of you in the dining room at midnight.” Eli heads to the stairs, his mood clearly soured. Bobby follows with the camera.

Doc and I stand in front of the fire and watch Gretzky carry the girl from the room, her limbs swaying like a dead deer. When they’re gone, Doc slaps a palm on my shoulder. “Hey, Adri, what’s ‘Pryntsesa’ mean?”

The icy insect picks at the base of my skull.

“Oh, I remember. It’s Ukrainian for ‘I’ve fallen for teen pussy. How am I gonna surrender my way out of this one?’”

Rage flares in me like propane. I grab his T-shirt and wind the collar around my fist. “I want her dead.”

“Because that would make the feelings go away, wouldn’t it?”

I want to kill him, but I force my hand to unclench. There’s no point in fighting Doc. He eats anger and drinks frustration. I turn and head for the staircase.

“You owe me a new T-shirt, fuckstain.”

I glance back. “I’ll pay you in advice. That pussy’s more trouble than it’s worth.”

“Whatever you say, Pryntsesa.” Doc’s laughter follows me out the entrance hall.

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