I frowned at his back and hugged him tighter. Kissing his shoulder, I whispered, “We’ll figure it out, boy. Together. All of us.”
“Thanks.”
10
FALLON
There wasa large bloodstain on the wooden floor near my foot in the shape of a lopsided butterfly, which hadn’t existed the last time I was here. The nasty mark gave me the heebie-jeebies and I rubbed at my arms, even though I wasn’t cold.
Did Aspen do that?
Or was it Cillian?
What the hell had they done to make such a huge mess? I wasn’t even sure a human body had that much blood in it. I was startled out of my disturbing thoughts when Rowen landed a friendly punch on my shoulder. His yellow tie popped out of his black suit coat and swung in front of him. I glanced up into his grayish-blue eyes, feeling the weight of this moment. So far I’d more or less been their gopher, or I’d been assigned here at the Vinegar Hill hideout to make sure someone stayed put until the others could come back. I’d never really been part of what they do.
A bright smile spread across Rowen’s lips as he handed me a solid wooden bat, the one that always made me think of summer barbecues and Little League. I took the weapon from him and slid my gloved palm along the polished handle, the wood so smooth the black surgical-grade latex didn’t catch on a single bump or groove.
Rowen’s smile grew warmer—hell, it was probably the nicest one I’d ever gotten from him, which was fucked up considering he wanted me to torture Ilya in about three seconds. “Vail’s not here, so you gotta flirt with the sexiest blond in the room, huh? Makes sense, I suppose.” I blew him a kiss, and he huffed, brows dipping low. He growled and ran a hand over his reddish-blond beard.
“Yeeejit, this is not the time nor the place. Now pay attention, this is serious.”
He didn’t sound mad, so I only grinned and blew him another kiss.
My stomach roiled as a grunt from across the room had us pivoting to see what was going on. It turned out nothing in particular. Ilya was tied naked to a sturdy wooden chair—not a choice I would have made. There was a cloth ball made from his dirty underwear stuffed into his mouth—I had to wonder what had been on them before they went in there—and someone had used a piece of rope to secure the makeshift gag in place. He had noise-canceling headphones on his ears that were blasting so loud I could hear the music across the room, and I couldn’t tell if he was being tortured by the volume or the high notes of the opera. The heavy-duty blindfold over his eyes made him completely vulnerable.
I’d never seen someone who was more of a sitting duck.
Cillian stood behind Ilya with his arms crossed. Letting out a long breath, I forced a smile, then turned to look at Aspen, who leaned against the wall beside the door. He was so broad and sturdy, and I took a second to appreciate him. His muscles filled out the crisp white dress shirt he had on, and the fabric contrasted nicely against his umber skin. I had no idea where his suit coat had gone. He nodded at me, and feeling stupid, I gave him one back. That was probably his quiet way of telling me to keep my shit together.
“Okay, boyo.” Rowen startled me when he spoke, and he laughed. “Ye’re excited to start, I get it. I don’t normally love doing this part o’ the job, but that piece of shite deserves it.” He glared at Ilya with more venom than I would’ve expected. “What ye wanna do is knock the wind out of ’im. It’ll get his attention, and the bat is feckin’ scary coming at ye. Biggest thing, ye don’t wanna let him know ye don’t plan to bash his brains in.”
“Aye,” Cillian said. “This is a mental game.” He adjusted his dick and I ignored it. I’d noticed he caught wood a lot doing this, and I was not ready to investigate what the fuck that meant.
“Like a fight.”
“Exactly!” He pointed at me. “Ye got this, lad, give it yer all. I love this,” he said more quietly. “It’s a good rush. Ye didn’t ever really get in on Reed, but ye’ve got the skills. Ye’ll love it, too.” He smirked. “Like Aspen does.”
Uneasily I smiled back, but I wasn’t so sure about this. I could hurt someone in the ring, but torture didn’t have the same feel. It didn’t seem... fair. Part of me still thought I deserved the ass whooping I’d caught because I hadn’t been able to fight the fucking Russians off, even though that was stupid. No one could fight off five guys.
Rowen settled his hand on my shoulder. “Go ahead, take yer time. We can’t kill him. Stay away from the liver, kidneys—all the important shite. Go for arms, knees. Get creative.” He squeezed my shoulder. I was so torn. I’d never had Cillian’s or Rowen’s attention in quite this way, and it was all... good.
I liked it a lot.
Aspen only watched quietly, but he was here and knew I’d had second thoughts about this. I let out a long breath. I could do this. For Aspen. I didn’t want him and Cillian to have to tell the boss I was a total fuckup. Padraig and Dad would crow about it for the rest of my life, even if Sloan found something else for me to do.
No, fuck that.
Cillian laughed from his spot behind Ilya. “That was a fine speech. Didn’t know ye had it in ye.”
“Feck off,” Rowen said, but he was smiling for once. “Ye arsehole.”
“Come on, get in position,” Cillian said cheerfully. He waved me over with both hands. “Let’s go.”
Swallowing, I nodded and forced my feet across the wooden floor, away from the huge bloodstain, and let out a long breath. The tips of my sneakers almost bumped Ilya’s toes before I stopped. I had on my oldest jeans and a black sweatshirt I didn’t give a shit about. Cillian was in a suit, though. He didn’t seem to care if he trashed his clothes, but he made a hell of a lot more money than I did, so it probably hurt less to replace them. My ribs still ached every time I breathed, and my lungs were tender, for lack of a better word. I could tell they weren’t one hundred percent. Sweat stung my eyes and I swiped my hair away from my face and shook my head. It didn’t help. I should’ve done something with my hair before we left the house, but moving my arms up and back was dicey. If I stretched my muscles the wrong way, it hurt a lot.
“We’ll pop your cherry, boy,” Aspen said with a chuckle, and I groaned when Cillian and Rowen both laughed far too long.
“I punched Reed, you know.” I couldn’t find it in myself to get mad at Aspen, especially when I seriously wondered what other cherries of mine he’d thought up to pop. The way he watched me made me think there might be a couple floating around in his head. He nodded at me again, and I felt a little better.
