Devil on Your Back (21 page)

She works harder, and I fall apart under her touch. Assuming she’ll pull away, I get ready to blow over her body but she takes me by surprise, drinking back every last drop I have to offer. Her face scrunches and she cringes as she does, but all the same, she’s drinking my cum like it’s a fuckin’ life source.

I give her cunt short, hard thrusts with my hand, and she drops free from my still pulsing length as she orgasms, hard and loud. I remove my thumb, and two fingers, curling the remaining two around to find her sweet spot as she climaxes. She cries out, laughing as her body gives in to the rest of what it has in store, drenching my hand, the sheets and her thighs with her cum.

My baby likes.

“Holy shit, Vince,” she cries as I work the last drops from her, and withdraw.

She watches me keenly as I lick my hand clean. “So sweet.”

“I’ve never . . . I mean . . .”

“You’ve never had almost all of somebody’s hand working you?”

She shakes her head frantically. “Or come that hard.”

“First time for everything,” I say.

She looks at me, eyebrows raised.

“Have I?” I ask, to clarify her questioning stare.

Sonya nods.

“Nope,” I reply, popping my ‘p’. “Never had anyone willing to try with these paws.” I hold my large hand up for emphasis.

Her eyes grow wide. “Far out. I can’t believe you fit that . . . in there.”

“Body can do amazing things when the mind’s not telling it that it can’t.”

I wiggle my cleaned fingers at her and she cracks up laughing, smacking me on the leg.

I love this woman.

RAMONA SITS
on the porch with the girls, watching Mack play with Rocco. Callum rests in the armchair facing Sawyer, staring at him with the same ferocity the lunatic has for the wall.

“Busting for a piss yet?” he asks him.

“What do you think?” Sawyer answers, unmoving in his gaze.

“We untie your feet, keep your hands restrained, you behave. Got that?”

Sawyer finally moves his line of sight to Callum. “How the fuck am I supposed to hold it?”

“You don’t,” Callum answers. “You sit down like the fuckin’ girl you are.”

He moves to change Sawyer’s restraints and I go over to join him. Standing behind the sofa, I loop my arms over Sawyer’s shoulders, under his arms and down against the back of the seat. I’ve got him nicely pinned to the furniture, pressing down with all my weight so his range of movement it minimal. The smart ass moves his head to face me, his mouth brushing my jaw as he talks. “Fancy a kiss, sweetheart?”

I stiffen, fighting the urge to shake him off and back away. The kid’s simply trying to mess with my head.

Alice and Callum make quick work of the ropes, and stand Sawyer up once his hands are tied to his sides. The rope loops around his waist and in ‘cuffs’ about his wrists, penning his hands to himself like a death-row prisoner. His feet are tied together but with enough leeway to be able to walk.

I leave the guys to guide him to the bathroom after a knock on the door precedes Ty and Bronx. The men walk in, assessing the situation, and watching curiously as our prisoner shuffles to the toilet. Recognition flashes in Ty’s eyes, and he quickly ushers Bronx towards the kitchen. “Let’s grab a beer, eh?”

Take it Alice didn’t give them that much info when he rang.

I nod to Ty to step aside when they return, brews in hand. He moves away from Bronx who stands at the window, staring at the women.

“I see you recognize him,” I whisper. “But his old lady and kid are outside, so let’s keep this under control.”

Ty nods. “Yeah. We were all there that night. Fuck, Bronx is going to go off.” He shakes his head, and then calls to Bronx. “Over here a minute.”

Bronx re-joins the group, and looks between us. “What up?”

“When that hostage comes back,” Ty explains, “I can guarantee you’ll know his face instantly.” He looks quickly to me before returning his attention to Bronx. “I need you to keep your shit together and your hands to yourself, okay?”

“Um, okay. Who is it?”

“You’ll know,” Ty says simply.

“His family are out there,” I say, pointing to the porch. “They don’t need to be wrapped up in this any more than they are. His old lady knows what he’s like, but his boy’s only four and to him, his dad is still his hero. No need to crush the kid’s dreams just yet.”

Bronx frowns, but nothing else is said as the others return with Sawyer. He looks over my shoulder at them all, and his jaw sets rigid. The muscles strain on his neck and under his shirt, but he stays in control like a true legend.

I pat his shoulder and nod. “Thanks.”

Sawyer gets seated, and within minutes, Callum has him cross-tied again. The door to the porch opens, and the women file in, still laughing about something. Ramona pauses with Mack on her hip, and her eyes narrow when she spots Sawyer again.

The minute she arrived with Callum and saw the asshole on the sofa, she stormed out the back. I could lay money on her having killed Sawyer if Mack wasn’t present. The girl’s about as scorned as they come. Being a useless father is one thing, but a murderer is a whole other kettle of fish.

“Guys,” Alice says. “This is Ramona, and her son Mack. They’re friends of Dad’s.”

“Hey,” Bronx says with a nod. Ty just stares.

Sawyer chuckles from his position on the sofa. I step over and give him a firm clip to the back of the head. He shuts up.

“They’ll be staying for a while,” Alice continues, “so let’s all act like family, huh?”

“Sure thing,” Bronx says, nodding.

Ty still stares.

“Ty?” Jane prompts.

“Yeah . . . sure.” He turns away, and hustles into the kitchen.

Ramona exchanges a smile with Jane, and Alice shrugs. Ty wouldn’t be the first guy to be struck mute by Ramona; the girl is a stunner.

Callum’s phone starts ringing, and eight sets of eyes move to him. He smiles shyly and pulls it out, walking out of the room as he answers.

Mack wraps his little arms around Ramona’s neck and whispers in her ear. She sets him down, and touches his head before he walks over to where Sawyer sits. “Mommy said you’d been naughty,” he states.

Sawyer smiles, and leans down so his face is level with the boy’s. “I have, Son. So you make sure you’re good for Mom, okay? Because this is what happens to bad boys.”

The kid nods and climbs up to sit next to his father, resting his head on Sawyer’s bound arm. The rest of us don’t know what to do with ourselves. It’s such an intimate moment, but so gut-wrenching at the same time.

Ramona crosses a hand to the opposite elbow, and places her free fingers over her lips. There’s moisture building in her eyes, but she holds herself well considering.

“I’ll help you make some lunch,” Sonya says to Jane. She nods in return and the two of them move hastily to the adjacent room.

Bronx clears his throat, and drags Ty to look out the French doors at the yard. Alice’s eyes go everywhere about the room but on the father and son sitting quietly, oblivious to the commotion they’re causing.

“Can we watch some TV?”  Mack asks.

Sawyer looks over his shoulder at where Alice and I stand. I shrug. “Don’t see why not.”

We swivel the sofa so it faces the TV, and Alice flicks through to find some old
Looney Tunes
cartoons. Father and son sit in silence, staring at the comedy, giggling every so often. My heart aches at the sight, knowing how much it’s going to fuck this kid up when his dad leaves for quite possibly the last time.

A gasp from my right catches my attention. Ramona claps her hands to her mouth, and rushes down the hall, tears streaking her face. Ty goes after her as Sonya pokes her head out of the kitchen.

“It’s okay,” I tell her. “He’s got this.”

She nods, and returns to lunch duties. I follow her in to the kitchen and grab myself a beer, ready to drink myself out of the emotional state such an innocent interaction has put me in.

“It’s so sad,” she whispers, echoing my exact sentiments.

“I know. That poor kid.”

I catch Jane’s sympathetic stare before she returns to slicing tomato for the sandwiches they have laid out over the counter. Sonya nods, and picks up the cheese grater.

Resting my back against the fridge I watch the two women work in tandem to prepare lunch for everyone. The sight itself is so normal, so settled, but the whole situation we’re in here feels far too much like the calm before the storm. We’re all here under the same roof, and in another life this would have been a happy reunion of people, but not today.

Today it feels as if we’re on the precipice of our final change for the worse.

Today feels like the day that ignorance and innocence die.

RAMONA RETURNED
from the bedroom almost a full hour after she disappeared. Whatever Ty said to her must have managed to put a field dressing on that wound she’s sporting, because the woman’s been a rock ever since. She sat in the armchair beside Sawyer and Mack, watching TV with them and stealing the occasional glance at the pair.

The somber mood in the house lasts well into dinnertime. King arrived shortly before Jane placed our meals on the table, and she managed to slip him in without trouble. As we sit around the table, nobody has the inclination to say a thing. All that we had to express has been shared this afternoon—in silence.

I pick at the meatloaf on my plate, my appetite stuck somewhere yesterday when I was busy denying the truth of the matter to myself, and now. Alice catches my eye, and nods toward the sofa. Turning, I see Ramona taking a place next to Sawyer, a plate of food in her hands. She speaks quietly to him, and he turns his head to look at her. Gently, as if she were feeding a child, she lifts a forkful of food to his mouth. He leans forward and takes the offering, his eyes never leaving her.

I turn away, saddened by how similar it seems to watching a death-row prisoner take their last meal. Trading Sawyer is a gamble on his life, and we all know that. Carlos will either be proud his messed-up kid is following in his psychotic footsteps, or he’ll be ready to take out the years of frustration Sawyer’s been giving him by way of torture. With that crazed drug lord, you never know.

“How was the ride?” Callum asks King, breaking the tension.

He shrugs one shoulder. “Typical. Full of school traffic by the time I hit the city limit.”

Awkward silence returns with only the clink of cutlery and the mumblings of a four-year-old to break it up.

“Do you like baking?” Jane asks Mack.

He nods fervently, and shovels some more mashed potato in his mouth.

“I thought you and I could make some cookies for everyone in the morning,” she says.

“Can I join?” Sonya looks to Mack for an answer.

“Yep,” he replies, full of pure, untainted childhood joy at such a simple thing. It’s warming—a little piece of normalcy in an otherwise fucked-up situation.

I feel shit for what we’re about to do, and looking at the way King is eyeing the kid, I know he feels much the same. But sometimes you have to just swallow past the restriction of your morals, and realize that the person you’re about to throw to the wolves has been doing the same for so long that you forget who is actually at fault.

It’s not
us
that are the bad guys here; Sawyer penned his own sentence the minute he decided to ruin the lives of others to simply piss his daddy off. I need to remember that. I need to stop assimilating my guilt over abandoning Alice and letting him down with what we’re going to do with Sawyer.

“We have roughly an hour,” King says, staring at his plate, “so eat up, boys. We’ll have to be on the road within the next twenty if we want to start on good terms.”

Us men nod and eat like the dutiful soldiers we are. I take one last look over at Ramona, and the pain in her expression as she carefully feeds Sawyer is both saddening and irritating. Why she still feels so bound to him, after everything he’s done to her, I have no idea. It seems the woman is a glutton for punishment, probably taking it upon herself for not being able to change him.

Then again, maybe she has in a way. Watching the maniac sit there, assessing her as she feds him—it’s the quietest he’s ever been. The way he watches her face, even when she’s looking down at the plate, he almost looks as if he
adores
her.

I shake the ludicrous thought away and resume my meal. If Sawyer cared for Ramona, there’s no way he could have treated her the way he has all this time.
Surely not.
“What will you lot do while we’re out?” I ask, addressing Alice and his friends.

Bronx looks at me, then to the others. Alice frowns, and Ty glances to King and Callum.

“What are you on about, old man?” Alice’s frown deepens.

“You’re not coming with us,” King explains.

Bronx and Alice seem to be the only two with a problem. Ty excuses himself from the table and carries his plate to the kitchen, followed close behind by Sonya. Ramona’s head whips around at the shift in tone and she quickly moves to usher Mack from our group.

“I get the fact you’re taking this thing over ’cause of him,” Alice says, pointing to Sawyer, “but for fuck’s sake, just how much are you cutting us out?”

“It’s not about cutting you out, Malice,” Callum says. “It’s about ensuring the safety of the target . . . you.” He points his fork at my boy.

Alice drops his cutlery on the plate with unnecessary clatter and leans back in the seat. His jaw ticks while he stares off to the side, ignoring us all.

Ramona scuttles past with Mack, ushering him down the hall and announcing loudly that ‘it’s time to read a book before bed’.

“I think what Malice is trying to express,” Bronx says forcefully, glaring at Alice, “is that we feel a certain commitment to this given what happened to Tigger—what we witnessed. We’re all restraining ourselves here by being in the same room as that asshole over there, and all we want is to see for ourselves he doesn’t get off lightly.”

Alice grumbles under his breath causing King to sigh, and scrub a hand over his face. “Sure, kid, I get that. But for fuckin’ crying out loud, how much unnecessary risk do you want to place on yourselves?”

“We feel this is a necessary risk,” Bronx calmly replies.

“It’s not,” Callum drops bluntly. “I understand revenge, I do. But guys, come on,” he says, screwing up his face. “Think of how many brothers you’ve lost already. Do you want to keep this shit up until you fuckers are extinct?”

Alice’s nostrils flare, a sure sign he’s aware that King is speaking the truth, but refuses to acknowledge it. Bronx nods, and twiddles his thumbs on the table top. Keeping his eyes trained on the movement, he speaks to Alice.

“Perhaps we need to let it lie this time.”

Alice snorts in response. “Are you serious? You’re one of us, right?”

“Of course I fucking am,” Bronx bites, “but Jesus, Malice, they have a point. How many of us need to walk to our own deaths before we step back and calculate the risk?”

“If you can sleep at night letting Tigger down like that, then fine, do nothing. But we should be stringing that fucker up and gutting him for what he did.”

The boys are damn near shouting at each other, and yet, Sawyer stays as still as a statue, staring at that damn wall.

“Tigger let
us
down,” Ty booms from where he’s remerged at the entrance to the kitchen. “Our brother, a man we trusted, lied to us and put us all at risk. He fucking set us up for this fall, Malice, so let it go.”

“Whatever.” He stands and marches out of the room.
Always a Hollywood
.

Ty takes his vacated seat and props his elbows on the table. “He’ll come around,” he says to none of us in particular.

King draws a deep breath, and stands. “Well, as much as I’d love to sit around and chew the fat, we have a meeting to get to.”

I nod, and push out from the table. “That we do.”

Sonya helps Jane clear the plates, and disappears back to the kitchen. I leave the other two at the table and join Callum and King in gearing up. Alice is still sulking in his room when I pass by on the way to get my Beretta from the spare room. I listen to the soft tones of Ramona’s voice filter through the wall as she reads Mack his story while I unpack the gun and its clip. Assembling the two pieces as I walk back to the lounge, I hear Jane talking to Alice, and pause.

“You need to let them handle it.”

“I feel like I’m disrespecting him by walking away from this,” Alice explains.

“Yeah, but Ty had a point—Tigger let you all down by doing what he did.”

I sneak a peek at the two of them as I carry-on by and see Alice with his head hanging, but nodding. Hopefully he understands, and despite his stubborn nature he’ll be able to accept that we’re only doing this to keep him safe, not out of disrespect for the loss he and his boys experienced.

Callum has moved to the armchair when I re-enter the living room, and sits strapping a holster over his shoulder. The bulge of King’s Glock is evident under his shirt at his waistband, and he checks the boot knife he carries everywhere with him, chance of danger or not. I double-check my piece and tuck it out of sight, ready to leave.

“How long are we expecting you gone for?” Sonya asks from behind, startling me.

“Two hours tops,” I tell her. “We can’t be completely sure.”

She nods, and stares wistfully out the window into the dark. “That’s fine. I just wanted a benchmark so we know when we need to come up with Plan B.”

“Baby,” I say, taking her face in my hands, “you won’t need Plan B. It’s just a meet.”

“With Carlos,” she hisses under her breath. “You know what that man does, what he’s capable of.”

“And Sawyer knew that before he made each and every one of his decisions, too.”

She looks past me to Sawyer and sighs. “Are you sure using him is the best idea? What if Carlos just takes him back and hurts him for fun? What if he tortures him for being so disrespectful?”

“That’s Sawyer’s cross to bear.”

Her eyes glisten, and I frown. There’s no reason why she should feel terrible for the guy. “Sweetheart, this is not on you, so stop it.”

“I’m sorry,” she says, wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand. “It’s just hard when I remember how things used to be.”

“I know. But you can’t dwell on what you cannot change.”
Because haven’t I learnt that the hard way?

“Take care,” she says simply, patting my chest.

Sonya makes her move to leave, but I snatch her wrist and haul her back to me. Her body crashes into mine, and I wrap my arms around her waist. “Don’t you dare walk away like that.” I lean in, and take a kiss for the road. “Better.”

She smiles, and it’s all I need to make sure I come back.

“You ready?” King calls.

I nod, and run my thumb over Sonya’s soft cheek.

“Go,” she whispers, and pulls away.

My heart is torn, but my head is firmly in the game. As long as it stays that way I’ll be fine, because we all know how fucked I’ll be if my heart is the one leading the way.

Callum and King lift Sawyer to his feet, his ropes having been altered, and he shuffles toward the door. They usher him down the steps and across to Ty’s car. Having three bikes and one tied prisoner was never going to be logistically possible, so Ty offered his vehicle.

Sawyer is restrained in the back, his ropes wound through the seatbelts, and his hands bound to his sides so he has no hope in hell of undoing buckles, moving, or even so much as scratching his ass without assistance. Callum gets in the driver’s seat, and follows King down the driveway. I ride tail end.

It’s a sorry procession, and I hope like hell the last one of its kind that I’ll ever have to be a part of.

• • • • •

“YOU THINK
they’ll be late just to try and psych us out?” King asks, swinging his feet.

I sit beside him on a low half-log fence behind a set of bleachers, and shrug. “Probably. Wouldn’t put it past them.”

We each stare off into the dark in separate directions. Callum sits in the Audi, obscured from view, inside of a nearby parking garage. We’re keeping Sawyer out of sight until we’re sure things aren’t going to start off hostile. Carlos requested the meet be set up at a local park; open for no chance of ambush, yet secluded by the fact the entire parkland is set higher than the road which flanks it. I’m not sure if I should be relieved by that or concerned.

“Pity we couldn’t stick around for Bruiser’s funeral,” I muse. “It’s disrespectful if none of us go.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” King says. “His family vetoed any of us going, anyway.”

“Really?” I turn to look at him, a grey silhouette with a burning amber spark igniting amongst it.

He lets out the puff of smoke he drew in, and nods. “His mom went nuts when she found out. Started cussing us all out, blamed us for it, threatened to call the cops.” He chuckles. “Shit, the woman even threw a fuckin’ stool at me.”