Indulgence (16 page)

I parked my bike out the front of The Gambler’s Inn, feeling
torn for the first time in my sordid life.
Keep her or kill her
.

Shoving through the front door of the pub, my gaze automatically
went to the bar. Fucking Mercy Reid. I knew she wasn’t there, but I looked all
the same. Everywhere I turned there was a reminder of her waiting to assail my
senses.

That fat Necromancer fuck that’d held a knife to her throat
in that exact spot where Brock was standing. He was staring at me like I was a
crazy motherfucker and wasn’t that the truth, now more than ever.

Whatever they did to me was unraveling piece by piece, but I
had to stay stuck together for as long as I could. I didn’t understand how she
cracked the edges of my mind and wormed her way in. I didn’t understand how I
knew slivers of my past, but didn’t give a shit about piecing them together.

All I understood was that Mercy Reid was locked in my
apartment and she was the woman who’d tried to kill Sykes. She was the woman I
was meant to kill to appease my masters.

Glaring at Brock, I strode across the pub and shoved the
door to Weiss’ office open with a violent jab.

“Fuck X,” Weiss cursed at my abrupt appearance.

I sank down onto the sofa, kicking my boots up onto the
coffee table. “Got any of that fancy scotch?”

“I’m saving that, asshole.”

I raised an eyebrow. “For what? Another Necromancer raid?
You gunna give some to your boyfriend out front?”

Weiss sighed sharply and got up from his chair. “Whatever.”
He took down the scotch from on top of the filing cabinet and poured two
glasses. Handing one to me, he asked, “What’s up your ass? Shouldn’t you be out
looking for-”

“I’m getting to it,” I snapped, taking the glass.

“What happened to your hand?” Weiss asked, giving me the
once over. “You look like fucking shit, by the way.”

I glanced at the broken skin across my knuckles and shook my
hand out like it would instantly cure the wound. An image of the broken plaster
in my bedroom flashed through my mind. “Nothing.”

“How's it going? Sykes is asking questions.”

“It’s been less than two weeks, Weiss. He can get fucked.”

“Try telling that to him,” he said, sitting behind the desk
again. “He wants results, X. The trail is getting colder by the minute.”

“Then they shouldn’t have left it so fucking long,” I
snapped before downing a mouthful of scotch. The alcohol burned a smooth trail
down the back of my throat. This really was the good stuff. Weiss had been
holding out on me.

“How close are you?”

“Closer than they ever got.” She was locked in my apartment,
but I wasn’t so sure I was going to give her up yet. Mercy was my key to
freedom, but in her desperation, she’d offered me something a little more
delectable than that. She’d offered retribution for us both, but she’d also
offered my soul. Royal Blood couldn’t give me that. They would never give back
what they’d taken.

“Have you seen Mercy?” Weiss asked, tapping the side of his
glass.

I glanced up, unsure of what to say.

“I know you two were fucking,” he said. “I warned her off
you. If you’ve done something to her, X…”

“I’ve done shit to her,” I snapped. “I fucked her over your
desk, by the way. I came right there.” I pointed to where his cigarettes were
sitting in front of him.

Weiss jerked back, picking up his precious smokes, a look of
disgust on his face. “Ugh, you dirty fuck.”

“I seem to remember you fucking some bitch on the back of my
bike,” I said rolling my eyes. “I call this even.”

“I'm not shitting around, X. She didn't turn up for work.”

“Is that why that gobshite Brock is back out there?”

“I'm worried about her.”

I snorted, trying to cover up my jealousy. That was a new
one and fuck it stung. “Why? Want to stick your pin dick in her?”

“Fuck, X,” Weiss said, leaning back in his chair. “You of
all people could see she was good for this place. I don't know what the fuck
she was looking to get lost from, but I'd rather she did it here.”

Fuck me
. If he knew who Mercy really was, his opinion
would do a total one-eighty.

“Maybe she wanted to get lost someplace else,” I said, never
taking my gaze from his.

“See,” he replied, jabbing his finger at me, “when you say
shit like that, it gives me the chills. You better not have-”

“Believe me Weiss, I have not killed Mercy Reid. How could I
deprive the world of her bitch of a mouth?”

Weiss narrowed his eyes. “So you're not shitting me. You
really haven't seen her?”

“I'm not shitting you,” I replied, annoyance starting to
shred my control. “I fucked her the night before last. Left her naked and
spread out on her bed. That was the last time I saw her.”

“Fine,” Weiss declared, pulling a cigarette out of his
packet. “But I just want to know one thing.”

I raised an eyebrow as he flicked his lighter and stuck the
end of his cigarette into the flame.

“Did she fuck you or did you fuck her?”

I let a sly smile pull at my lips. Weiss knew nothing, which
meant I still had all the power.

“You know me,” I said. “I fuck everyone one way or another.”

“Fuck, do I know it.” He took drag from his cigarette and
let the smoke billow from his mouth. “You okay with this one? I mean, a hit has
never taken you this long before.”

“It’s not as straightforward as I’m used to,” I replied. I
swirled the scotch around in my glass and breathed in the scent. Even if Mercy
Reid wasn’t behind it, it would still be difficult. “The trail is already
cold.”

“Nothing like a good challenge to get you back in the game,
huh?”

I snorted before downing the rest of the scotch. Standing, I
slid the empty glass across the desk and Weiss caught it before it smashed onto
the floor. As far as I was concerned my status report was over.

“If you see Mercy, tell her to get her ass in here.”

“And why would I see her?”

Weiss regarded me for a moment. “Suit yourself.”

Narrowing my eyes at him, I realized that my ‘best mate’ had
a thing for Mercy. Like fuck I’d let him get his greasy paws on her. Not if I
had anything to do with it. Without another word, I shoved out of Weiss’ office
wondering what I was going to do about that. I knew him well enough to
understand that if she didn’t show up soon, he would go looking and the first
place he’d check was my apartment.

What was I going to do about that?
Whatever it took
.

I wasn’t ready to give her up yet.

Mercy

I waited for what felt like an age before I tested the rope
around my wrists.

X was gone, doing god knew what, and there was no way I was
letting him tie me up again. He had to see that he could trust me…and I had to
see a little more of the man I was trying my hardest to save.

He’d left the lamp on, but the curtains were shut tight. It
could be any time of day out there and I wouldn’t even know. I had no idea how
long I was out for, how long X had toyed with me and how long I’d slept for
afterwards.

I had no way of knowing that when he came back, that he
would still be in the same mindset, or if he would be alone. There was only one
thing he’d said to me that gave me any sliver of hope that I still had him.
They
were meant to let me go
.

I wriggled my wrists against the rope, trying to get some
slack against the knot. If I could loosen it just enough, I might be able to
slip a hand free. I worked at the rope, sawing into my skin even more. Little
droplets of blood oozed to the surface and I hissed, licking my skin to soothe
the burn. I let my head bang against the headboard of the bed, the image of X
over me, sinking his teeth into my skin seared into my memory. He’d looked so…
enraptured
.

Gasping as the rope bit into my skin even more, I tugged
hard and my right hand slipped free. He’d restrained me again, but this time
he’d been gentle about it. I had to give him at least half a point for that
one. X
was
going in the right direction. I just had to hope that by
going out into the world and back into his sordid hitman life, he wouldn’t
forget what had happened here.

Flexing my fingers, I slid across the bed, placing my bare
feet onto the carpet. Standing, I winced as my muscles screamed in protest. I
felt him all over me. His hands, his mouth…his
cock
. X had almost
obliterated me and it was only day fucking one. Or at least it still felt like
day one.

Balls, Mercy
, I thought.
Show him your big balls.
Don’t let him give you shit
. It was the exact same thing I’d thought the
day I’d met Weiss at The Gambler’s Inn… Fuck! Weiss… I’d probably already
missed a shift at the pub and I hadn’t missed any before. I’d never even been
late. Snorting at the irony of being a model employee, I shuffled across the
carpet towards X’s closet of horrors.

What if he came looking? What would X do if he was forced to
hand me over? That was a thought too heavy to handle, so for now I resigned
myself to something I could tackle right now and that was going through X’s
stuff.

I’d caught a glimpse the night before when X had fetched a
knife to cut me free and that was bad enough. What else did he keep in here? I
slid open the closet door, my hands shaking and slipping on the handle.

I gasped as I laid eyes on the full extent of X’s depravity.
These were the tools of his trade. I got the fact that he was a hitman, that he
killed people for money and for Royal Blood, but it was another thing seeing
it.

I ran my fingers over a rack of knives, nasty looking things
with different kinds of blades. Some were long and thin, others wide with
jagged teeth, but all of them had one thing in common. They could gut a man
from head to toe in one fell swoop. My entire body tingled at the thought of
the blades cutting into my chest and I swallowed the urge to heave up the
non-existent contents of my empty stomach.

I could run…I could run and hope that I could get far enough
before X came back, but who was I fucking kidding? I had nowhere to go. No
friends, no family, no money or belongings. I could go to the cops, but I’d be
stuck into witness protection for the rest of my life. I’d never get my chance
for revenge then. Sykes would be untouchable. No, I had to take a gamble on X.
He was my only hope and my fucked up heart wouldn’t be able to take it if I
left him behind.

I slid the door further across, opening the closet space
right up and gasped as the full extent of X’s collection came to light. There
were all kinds of guns in a rack to one side, semi-automatics, shotguns,
revolvers, handguns, silencers and scopes and drawers full of ammunition.

Holy fucking shit
.

I stared at a high tech looking sniper rifle and felt a pang
of fear, but at the same time, I wondered if I could learn to use something
like that.

I leaned further into the closet and stumbled, my knees
giving out beneath me. My shoulder smashed into the back paneling hard and I
winced as pain shot through my bones.
Fuck
. I was weak, hungry and
hadn’t washed in at least two days. X wasn’t the only one in this equation
having a breakdown. I smashed a fist against the back of the closet in
frustration, but stilled as I was greeted with a hollow thud. There was
something hidden behind all of this madness...

The pain began to dissipate as my curiosity got the better
of me and I pressed my palms against the wall and pushed. A faint click echoed
in the closeness of the closet and the wall began to slide to the left. It was
a false panel and it’d only been stupid luck that I’d found it at all. The
entire wall was smooth and the joints in the paneling could easily be mistaken
for being a part of the cabinetry.

I wondered what it was for. A panic room? A hiding place for
a safe? It was too small for the former, so it must hold things that were too
sordid to keep on display. I peered into the opening and found a narrow crawl
space that ran the entire length of the room. It was wide enough for me to
stand in, with my chest pressed against the wall and my back against the
closet, so I slipped inside.

To my right, a safe had been set into one end. It looked
like a locker in the hallways of a high school someplace, except for the keypad
on the front. I brushed my fingers across the numbers and wondered what X kept
inside. Passports, money, papers, evidence… All the things that could put him
away for a very long time…or the things that could help him disappear. Him and
me
.

Shimmying back into the closet, I slid the false panel back
into place and it closed with a click. If things got rough, then maybe I could
use it as a place to hide out. Wishful thinking that X wouldn’t check there
first, but it was something.

My stomach began to squirm as I turned to the bedroom door
and lingered at the threshold. If all those weapons hung in his closet, what
was waiting for me out there? I had to grow a pair and take a step. I was still
the same woman who’d broken into Sykes’ home undetected and managed to get out
unscathed, so this should be a piece of cake. There was no trigger to pull
here.

Padding tentatively down the hall, I listened for any
movement ahead. It was silent other than the occasional thump from someone in a
nearby apartment. From the looks of the place so far, it was modest, much like
my own had been. I wasn't sure it fit X's MO of being a hitman. If he worked
for cash, wouldn't he have a better place? Nicer things, more security?

At the end of the hall, the space opened out into a joined
lounge and kitchen. I saw the refrigerator first and my stomach growled. How
long had it been since I’d eaten anything? I couldn’t remember, maybe it was
before starting my last shift at The Gambler’s Inn and who knew when that was.