He was going to make a small fortune off this strapping young stud.
The drink came. The stranger took a sip and smiled.
“Delicious,” he said.
Tulliver stood. “Drink up. I’ve gotta go take a piss, but I’ll be back in a minute. Then we can chat more, okay?”
“I shall look forward to it,” the man said, taking another sip.
Tulliver turned and walked toward the corridor at the back of the barroom, a wicked grin spreading across his face. By the time he was done draining his bladder, the handsome stranger would be passed the fuck out, and Tulliver would have his doormen carry the big bastard upstairs to bind and gag him. From there, it would only be a matter of giving the man a few narc injections to get him hooked and dependent. After that, the man’s ass would be a money-making machine.
But as Tulliver pushed open the door to the bathroom, the smile slid from his face.
What the hell was that stink?
It didn’t take him long to find the source. As he started to step inside, Tulliver saw that the toilet had overflowed, and now the entire floor was covered in a foul puddle of piss and shit. Tulliver wrinkled his nose in disgust and annoyance. They’d had plumbing problems before, but never likethis.
He’d have to put someone on cleanup duty. Not the barman or doormen. They would be occupied with the handsome stranger. Maybe the bar back could handle it. Or even a couple of the girls upstairs.
First, however, he needed to attend to his bladder.
Outside. Alley.
Tulliver walked stiffly down the remainder of the corridor, pushed open the door at the end, and stepped out into the back alley behind The Spiderhole. The acid-fog stung his good eye, but his other eye didn’t feel anything at all. It was a mere replica, fashioned from plasteen, to replace the living eye he’d lost years before. It was a kid that had done it to him. A girl. Stuck him with a knife because he’d tried to give her a little loving.
Not a day went by that Tulliver didn’t think about that little bitch. She must be a grown woman by now. What was her name again? Rita? Rhoda? Something like that. Man, the things he would do to that bitch if he ever got his hands on her.
At the moment, however, the only thing Tulliver was worried about getting his hands on was his dick.
He took a few steps into the alleyway, then turned to face the brick wall. It was dark, and for a moment, Tulliver experienced a childish sense of fear. It was probably unwise for him to be outside by himself like this. In spite of his status in Jeriko, he was not without enemies. Why, earlier that very day, one of his men had been found in a different alley with his head bashed in.
What was Tulliver going to do, though? Bring his bodyguards outside to watch him piss like some little kid? Hell. Besides, he was already out here, and if he didn’t go now, he was liable to piss his damn pants.
Tulliver unzipped his fly, whipped out his dick, and began to urinate against the wall in front of him. The feeling of relief was almost orgasmic, and he sighed with satisfaction.
“Ahhh…”
The blade was so sharp, Tulliver didn’t even feel it cut him. What he felt instead was a sudden sensation of warmth washing down his thighs, as if someone had poured a hot drink onto his lap. For a moment, he thought he had somehow pissed himself, and he wondered how that could even be possible. Then he realized what had actually happened, and he started to scream.
Or rather, he tried to scream, but something was wrong with his voice. All that came out was a quiet wheezing sound, and it didn’t come from his mouth, but from lower down, from his throat. More wetness was pouring down the front of his shirt. A lot of it. He suddenly felt very sleepy.
The last thing Tulliver heard before the lights went out was a voice whispering in his ear, deep and smooth and honey-sweet. The voice of an angel.
“Rona says hello.”
CHAPTER 23
It was a sound that woke her, soft and hard.
The sound of steel sliding against stone, over and over again.
Rona yawned and stretched beneath the covers. She could not remember the last time she had woken feeling so refreshed. Sore, to be sure, and dirty too. The scent of sex still clung to her skin, and the taste of three men still lingered on her tongue. They had passed her around for hours, sharing her body for their common pleasure. By the end of it, she’d been little more than a ragdoll, a limp and lifeless toy for the Mercs to use however they saw fit.
And use her, they had.
Oh God, how they had used her.
It must have been close to midnight when Rona had finally fallen asleep, and it was the deepest and most satisfying sleep she had ever experienced in her life. It should not have been that way. She should have been up all night, wide awake with anxiety about what had happened, and what the consequences would be.
