Page 49 of Evil Beautiful

Nothing was as it seemed and it was making me nervous.

And worried.

Worried about Deon.

He had told me not to worry about anything. That he would take care of me.

Easier said than done.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Gideon

Covered in blood I took a step back from the bloody and mutilated piece of meat hanging lifelessly from the chains suspended from the rings in the ceiling. The bastard hadn’t died easy and at the end he’d given me what I needed. Dark emotions still surged through me as the shit he had told me rolled through my head. I shoved them back, hid them deep, and concentrated on the snippet I had extracted with his dying breath.

Confirmation of Winifred Harrison’s location.

It meant the information given to us by the Russian wasn’t bogus. And that meant we had problems heading our way once the Harrisons have been dealt with. The one advantage we had was that we knew they were coming. And thanks to Orlov we knew what they would be proposing, or rather, demanding from us.

Therefore we had time to prepare our response.

As a corporation, and personally, we were already up to our knees in the filth the Harrisons had brought to our door. With the Demidov Bratva we wouldn’t be knee high in their filthy business, we would be drowning in it. Something none of us wanted.

Whatever we had to do to keep them from our door, we’d do it.

It was imperative to arrange a meeting with Sergei Orlov as soon as the hag was taken care of.

Giving my head a sharp shake I brought my focus back to the dead meat in front of me.

A small smile curved my lips. A smile I had been told more than once was the epitome of evil.

Smiling didn’t remove the dead look from my eyes. Or the pleasure killing him had given me.

Tilting my head back I closed my eyes and brought my mind back from the dead zone in my head.

It was done.

Vengeance has been served.

I stepped to the side, away from the corpse, and dropped the whip I was holding in my blood covered hand. The knots on the long tails had blades woven into them and pieces of his flesh were stuck to it. The whip would be destroyed with everything else in the room.

Stepping onto a clean piece of plastic I held my arms away from my body, a sign for Lex to spray me down. Pulling the wet surgical pants and my boxer briefs off I dropped them, leaving them to be destroyed with the rest. Naked, I walked out on the plastic runner that led all the way to the bathroom. Stepping from the runner into the shower I set the water as hot as I could stand and started scrubbing. When I finally stepped out my entire body had been thoroughly cleansed. I dried off, dressed and walked out. The plastic was gone, the door to the torture room closed and Lex and Darren were waiting for me. Both had showered and redressed as well. I knew that the room behind the closed door was being thoroughly cleaned and readied for our next guest. Should there be one who needed our special accommodations.

I needed to see Kellen but first I had to report to Dom.

I found him in his office, motionless, a glass of amber liquid in one hand, the other in his pants pocket, staring through the reinforced glass at the ships lying at anchor in the bay. I doubt he saw a single thing. Dominick Maingarde never allowed his emotions to show and the glass in his hand told me he was close to exploding.

“Isn’t it a bit early to start drinking?” I asked as I walked up to him.

He didn’t turn or acknowledge me, just lifted the glass and drank it down.

Something had happened while I had been downstairs playing with my prey.

“What’s going on?”

His voice was hard but tightly controlled when he spoke.

“There was an attempt to kidnap Pixie. She had been to visit Kellen and was walking to her car when it happened. She was lucky. A bystander, who happened to be a biker, stepped in and got her away from the men trying to drag her into a van. Rooster and his men are chasing them down but I haven’t heard back from them yet. The biker took her to the Road Warriors clubhouse and they’ve locked her and the club down. Wild Man called to let me know she’s fine, a couple of bruises but nothing serious. He didn’t have a name for the biker who saved her. Bastard handed her over to the prospect at their gate and left once she was safely inside. Never took off his helmet and kept the visor closed. All they have is a male dressed in black on a red and white crotch rocket with no number plate. A needle in a haystack and I have a feeling the needle belongs to Sergei Orlov.”

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