Page 94 of Their Domme

“You’re going to hurt me anyway,” Joe countered, but he finally looked nervous and unsure.About damn time.

“Maybe. But there’s a difference in what kind of pain I’ll put you through and just how long that pain will last. So tell me, what will it be? I have better things to do than waste my time talking to the likes of you.”

“A waste, huh?” Joe asked, the slyness in his voice instantly putting me on high alert. “Considering the lengths you went to to get me, I must have something you want. Like the name of the man who took Thomas? Oh, did I hit the nail on the head? You and that boy.”

“You know who took him then?” Nicholette asked, venom dripping from every word. “Because ifyoudidn’t, you wouldn’t have said a name. And it’s man… Good to know.”

“I’m not telling you anything. I’d rather watch you fucking squirm and know you’ll never find him.”

“You’ll let some monster have your own son just to fuck me over?”

“Yes.” Joe started laughing, the sound harsh in the silence that had taken over while we all listened to their exchange.

Nicholette nodded a few times then turned to Ansel. “I need some tools and a few weapons. It seems I’ll be getting my dress bloody after all. Good thing this is black.”

“What tools do you need?” Ansel replied, cutting through Joe’s laughter with cool precision.

She looked at the older man, thinking over the offer with the care it required. It wasn’t like she could say bring me everything. A seasoned hitman like Ansel probably hadevery damn thingyou could ever want for something like this. Nicholette walked over to him and whispered in his ear before he nodded and walked away.

Nicholette turned back to her father and clicked her tongue. “I would have hated to ruin the surprise for you. I know how much you love them.”

What came next was one of the most brutal and wonderful torture sessions I’d ever seen. Nic used a sledgehammer to shatter Joe’s legs without so much as a flinch when she repeatedly broke his bones into fucking pieces, including his foot, before moving to the other leg. Tears and snot ran down his face. His cheeks had long since been stained with the brutal shade of red that accompanied extreme pain, and the scent of piss hit us with every passing breeze.

I wrinkled my nose and looked around to see how the others were doing. Sacha’s face was blank, but Bodhi seemed enraptured and turned on given the flush on his cheeks. If Oliver were here, they’d probably be messing around in the background. Rhodes, Alexei, and Maksim’s expressions were all grim, though they didn’t look disturbed by what was happening before them. Ansel watched Nic with hawk-like focus, his fingers sometimes twitching like he wanted to take the heavy hammer from her so that she didn’t overexert herself.

Nic tossed it aside after she had smashed his second foot for the third time, seemingly happy with the damage she had caused so far. She wiped at the slight sheen of sweat on her brow as she came back around, high heels still on.

“So, let’s try again. I’ll even be nice and prompt you,” Nic said condescendingly. “Who took Thomas?” Joe weakly shook his head in answer. “Do you really hate me that much? You paid for me, after all. Am I just a case of buyer’s regret?”

He jerked at that, hissing and looking up at my woman with a death glare that had me stepping forward. Then he started laughing with an edge of hysteria taking over. “Buyer’s regret? That’s one way of putting it. You used to be this meek, submissive thing. You’d listen to whatever we said if it kept us happy. And then…”

“And then I started getting my own opinions?”

“No.” Malice made Joe’s face twist with a condescending smirk as he homed in on Nic, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that whatever he was about to say was going to be big. “Then you became useless the moment you gave me what Miranda never could.”

“What was that?”

“A son.”

Oliver

Saturday

We had gotten to the cabin Friday night. The closest town was an hour away, so there were no people for miles. It was perfect for what we needed even though it wasn’t much to look at—one large room with just a small bathroom. There was a tiny kitchen off along the wall, which was basically empty, two couches along the side, and the real prize was the giant table in the middle with a sheet draped on top of it.

Walking over, I pulled it off to reveal four computers, old notebooks, pens, and a bunch of other shit all tangled together.

“Nice.” Atlas whistled as he walked up to the other side of the table. “Got any coffee, or are we starting tomorrow?”

“Coffee. I want to get back as soon as possible.”

He didn’t say anything for a minute, just staring at me. When I didn’t say anything else, he turned toward the kitchen. “I’ll go get it started then.”

By now, we were on pot number three, and Friday had long ago turned to Saturday. Atlas had claimed one side of the table while I got the other, both of us getting to work without a fuss. Besides sharing information back and forth, we didn’t really talk, just did our own thing… which was good and bad. It gave me way too much time alone with my thoughts, and I had plenty of them with everything that was going on.

Nic.

My past.

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