Specter’s eyes burn with rage. “Oh yeah? Where’d you find him?”
“Hiding in the closet like the fucking coward he is.”
“Where Olena?” the man asks, looking around frantically.
“Don’t fucking worry about it,” I say, smacking him in the head with the butt of my gun. “I brought him down for you. You can do the honors.”
The man’s eyes shift to the piled bodies of his gang. At least one or two of them aren’t dead yet, based on the soft, pained grunts I hear. That’s when I notice Carnage isn’t here. Ah. I know what’s happening. We’re burning this fucking house to the ground. Maybe it’ll take the whole block with it before it’s reported and we can wipe out one more eyesore in this city.
Specter studies the man, then his intense gaze shifts to me. “Did you get everything you need from this piece of shit?”
“Ja, I did. I’ll fill you all in once we’re done.”
Specter nods, raising his gun and closing the space between him and the asshole. He pushes the gun into the man’s mouth, and the dude whimpers and pisses himself, barely avoiding Specter’s boots. Specter snarls, leaning in menacingly close.
“You caused a lot of trouble. You scared the love of my life, and for that, you can rot in hell.”
The man mumbles around the nuzzle of the gun, but he only has a second before Specter pulls the trigger, splattering the man’s brains across the floor. The man collapses and Specter lets him fall.
I drag him over and add him to the pile of bodies just as Carnage comes through the front door holding a can of gasoline. “Got the girl settled in the car.”
Shadow nods. “Finish this.”
Carnage pours the gas over the bodies, then Whisper grins as he lights a match and tosses it, lighting up the pile of trash we took out tonight. We all watch for a few minutes, the sound of a few weak, pained moans filling the space around us.
“Sex trafficking ring,” I say. “He said they weren’t hired to take us out. They did that on their own when we intervened. They get the girls from Ukraine and Russia. There’s a dead girl in the bathroom upstairs and a dead man on the bed. They’ve been dead for a few days at least.”
“Jesus,” Phantom mutters. “They just hang out here with dead bodies?”
“And rape women.”
Whisper grunts in disgust. “We should go before the fire spreads.”
We walk out together. Specter claps my shoulder. “Thanks, man.”
I know why he’s thanking me. That was personal for him. “I got you.”
By the time we drop Olena at the Angel Shelter and pull into the driveway at Crestvale House, the adrenaline is wearing off and my eyes are getting tired. I can get a few more hours of sleep before I have to function again. There’s no hockey game in town tonight either, so I can just chill.
Some of the guys want a late-night snack—or early breakfast, depending on how you see it—but I excuse myself for a shower. I want the stench of that house off of me. I swear I can still smell those bodies. There’s no other scent like death.
In my room, I peel out of my clothes in the bathroom and start the shower. My thoughts immediately return to the sexy hockey player whose cock I had in my mouth just a few hours ago. God, he tasted good. Smelled good too. I hope to fuck hedecides he wants more and calls me. If not, maybe I can at least get another taste while I stalk my prey at his games.
My cock plumps slightly, but I’m too fucking tired to jerk it. I let the water massage some of the tension away, but it’s a quick shower, and just a few minutes later, I’m falling back into bed and drifting to sleep, visions of Bouche’s cock playing on repeat until it all falls away.
