Mark's threat still rings around in my head. Like a stray bullet ricocheting in a constant loop inside my brain.
The Society knows about Addie, making her a target. They may love children, but they absolutely do not pass up beautiful young women to sell and ship off to other countries. There’s no shortage of demand when it comes to the skin trade. Evil people have their tastes, and some prefer their victims to be fully grown women just as much as some prefer them adolescent.
The tension in my shoulders grows as my thoughts run away from me. A single moment—that’s all it takes for her to go missing. Vanish out of thin air within a short trek from her car to the grocery store entrance.
She doesn’t know the danger she’s in, but that will change soon. I refuse to hide the truth from her. And I’m sure she’s not going to like hearing that our self-defense lessons are going to be ramping up.
Now I just have to figure out how to keep my dick out of her during those lessons.
Fuck it. Won’t happen.
I smile, knowing she will try to use those moves on me, but the thought only makes my cock thicken in my slacks.
I haven’t seen her since the House of Mirrors, and I know deep down that makes her angry. She probably feels like I fucked her and got bored, but that’s the furthest thing from the truth.
I’m a fucking fiend for her now. It’s been the most challenging three days of my life staying away, but I need to infiltrate Savior's and save these kids. I haven’t had a minute to myself, and as much as I ache for my little mouse, these kids need me more.
This time when more tension rolls in, it’s because of my visceral need to be inside Addie, fucking her into oblivion and making her delirious with how hard I’m going to make her come.
“Be ready, I’ll be at Savior’s in an hour,” I warn Jay before hanging up the phone.
For now, I need to push Addie out of my head. But later tonight, I’ll be pushing myself inside her so deeply, I’ll be ingrained in every crevice inside her body.
“There’s some pretty high-profile people there,” Jay announces through the small chip in my ear. I’ll be taking it out before I get out of the car. Currently, I’m in a line, waiting for valet parking.
“Including the president,” Jay tacks on at the end.
I inwardly sigh, rolling my neck from the stress spearing into my muscles. This job is hard on my body, even when I’m not shooting people in the face and actively avoiding flying bullets. Maybe I can entice Addie to give me another massage later. I’d love nothing more than to return the favor.
“Anyone I should be concerned about?”
I hear Jay typing a mile a second in the background, the keys clacking obnoxiously. I have asked the fucker to get a less noisy keyboard, but he insists the loud clicking brings him peace.
And as much as it annoys me, we get so little of peace in our daily lives. So if a fucking obnoxious ass keyboard brings him some sort of semblance of it, then I won’t give him shit.
Well, not too much, at least.
“Several senators and governors, along with a few A-list celebrit—ah shit, is that Timothy Banks? Come on, don’t tell me he’s a part of this shit too?!”
I roll my eyes, shaking my head at Jay’s theatrics.
“Jay,” I snap. “Focus.”
There are only a few cars ahead of me, so I don’t have much time to talk until I can get in and put the chip back in without anyone noticing.
I’m not walking past their security systems with it in my ear. I’d be shot and killed right then and there.
“Sorry,” Jay mutters, his voice now somber from finding out his favorite actor is a pedophile.
“Really, Jay. We know a lot of celebrities are involved.”
“But, Tim Banks, man? Fuck. Anyways. There’s no one I can see at the moment that is of high concern. Not any more than they already are, considering you’re walking into a pit of pedos. Let me know when the chip is back in, I’ll keep you updated.”
Just as it’s my turn, I pluck the earpiece from my ear and slip it deep into an inner pocket with lead lining. Handing over my keys to the stone-faced valet guy, I round the car and pause in front of Savior’s.
Snapping my jacket closed, I refrain from cracking my neck again. Tonight is about making an impression. Others will know that I was friends with Mark, and after his unfortunate death, they will be looking at me.
Mark has spread my name around to plenty of his colleagues at this point.
I may be new to Savior’s, but they’ve been expecting me.
Savior’s looks like the type of club I’d expect to run an elite sex dungeon and perform rituals.
The main room is massive. The stage is right in the middle of the room, a large pole front and center with a girl swinging around it—completely naked. Her tits bounce as she lifts herself up, wrapping her long legs around the pole and bending backwards, her breasts on full display as she gyrates her hips.
I don’t bother looking at her body. What I look at are her eyes. And it takes control to keep my jaw from clenching when I see the telltale glazed film in them. Black circles decorate the flesh beneath her dead gaze, and I want nothing more than to carry her out of here and get her somewhere safe.
Biting back the anger, I chant to myself in my head that all these girls will be saved. Just like the other clubs, I’m going to get them all out. There will be nothing left of these fucking gentlemen’s clubs when I’m done.
And then I’ll move on to the next city, the next state, the next country if I have to.
I refocus on the rest of the club as I work to keep my face blank and my breathing even.
Evidently, I’ve walked into a place where people enjoy the taste and look of blood.
The ambiance is dark and moody and shows clear signs of sadism. The lighting is dim, the shadows swallowed by the black walls and furniture.
A deep red, the color of blood, is accented across the entire area. Red frames around old age paintings that indicate devil worship and sacrifice. Red shades around the mini lamps adorned on each wall. Red glasses, ashtrays, and drinks… And red heels and outfits that are covered in real diamonds and crystals.
Though I wouldn’t exactly consider their clothes as outfits. More like strings of fabric and jewels.
Yet, they managed to make the place drip with elegance and money.
“Zack! So nice to see you here,” a voice booms from behind me. Arranging a calm, but pleasant look onto my face, I turn and see a man I recognize very well. Daniel Boveri.
He’s a lawyer for the president, and someone Mark mingled with often. He’s a charming man—the tall, dark, and handsome type. With his thick black eyebrows set low over dark eyes that give him a menacing look, black hair, and a snake-like smile. He’s pushing his fifties, but the man isn’t hurting for women.
Dan exudes confidence and from the few times we’ve spoken, I understand why he’s a lawyer for the president. He’s incredibly manipulative.