Текст книги "Monster"
Автор книги: Jessica Gadziala
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The sentence trailed off when his big palm brushed over my breast, running over the cold-hardened nipple that wasn't hidden beneath the protection of a bra.
I felt myself gasp, my eyes finding his, expecting to see amusement or teasing. But all I could see there was heat. His gaze held mine, his thumb moving to stroke over the point that was suddenly hard for an altogether different reason.
“Breaker...” I breathed and he exhaled his breath hard, letting his hand drop. “Just sayin', his eyes are gonna be on your tits the whole time.”
And with that, he got out and slammed the door.
I took a shaky breath and slowly lowered myself down onto the street, going around the truck, and hurrying inside the building.
The tall, fit, drop dead sexy blonde at the reception desk ran her eyes over me before settling on Breaker and giving him a soul-crushing smile. Which, in my opinion, was incredibly unprofessional of her. For all she knew, he belonged to me. Hell, he had just gotten a little over the shirt action in the car just seconds before.
“What can I help you with today?” she asked, sounding like her services might include a blow job if he asked real nicely.
“We need to see Shane,” I offered and her eyes slid back to me, one of her perfect blonde brows raising.
“Mr. Mallick doesn't...”
“Tell him it's Alex,” I cut her off. “And tell him it's important.”
She pressed her lips together like she was trying to keep her opinion to herself, picked up the phone, and started speaking into it.
“He will be right out,” she said to me, then put her focus back on Breaker, giving him a very slow, very thorough inspection. “Might I ask how you keep in shape now?”
“He pounds skulls together,” a familiar voice said, coming from beside her.
I turned to see Shane walk up.
Now there's one thing about Shane Mallick that everyone knows (aside from the fact that if he showed up at your door with a crowbar, you needed to look down at your kneecaps, thank them for a lifetime of service, and kiss them goodbye), was that he was big. As in huge. A mammoth of a man. Yes, because he was tall, but also because he owned a gym and spent a lot of time in it. He, like all of the Mallick brothers, was ridiculously good looking. All black hair and light blue eyes. And, also like all of the other Mallick brothers, he was vicious, violent, ruthless, foul-mouthed, and charming as hell.
“Shane,” Breaker said, nodding his head at the man walking up.
“Bryan,” Shane said back, doing a similar chin-life thing.
Bryan?
Bryan?
What a tame, normal name for such a wild, unusual man.
He told me his last name was Breaker.
So that made him Bryan Breaker.
Hell, it even sounded like a name for a criminal. He never stood a chance at a straight life.
“The fuck you doin'...” he trailed off, his gaze landing on me. And I got to watch in stunned silence as his face transformed from just average everyday hot guy to devilishly handsome flirt. And, let me tell you, it was a damn sight to see. “Alex, baby,” he said, his deep voice seeping into my skin. Then he was moving behind Breaker, slapping him on the shoulder as he did so, and came to stand by me. No, not by me. He took all my space. My breasts practically brushed his chest. And, as Breaker had predicted, his eyes went right to my tits before sliding slowly back up to find my face.
“Hey Shane,” I said, annoyed that my voice came out a little airy. I really didn't want him. Not in the least. I knew his reputation. He was a complete horndog. But someone didn't tell my very confused libido that it would be a good time for it to disappear again.
“Shane,” a female voice clipped and I saw a smile tug at his lips hearing it. “Get your eyes off her fucking tits and take a step out of her personal space or I am going to chop off your balls and wear them around as earrings.”
And that's when I saw her.
And she made Gym-Brat Barbie look like a peasant.
Because she was simply... sexy as all hell.
I didn't even like chicks, but damn, I'd do her.
She was taller than me, somewhere around five-eight I would guess with an impressive rack, trim waist, great hips and ass, and shapely legs. But her face... she had plump lips, dark brows, and eyes that could only ever be described as “bedroom”. Her long wavy brown hair swung around her shoulders as she came up beside Shane, shoving him hard with her shoulder, and smiled at me. “His cock belongs to me now,” she informed me, rolling her eyes at him. “Sometimes he just needs to be reminded.” She held out a hand to me. “I'm Lea.”
“Alex,” I said, smiling a little.
“Alex,” she repeated. “You don't want him, right?” she asked, tilting her head toward her... boyfriend?
“No,” I said, shaking my head slightly.
“See? She doesn't want you,” she told him, a brow raised.
“Sure when you show up goin' all crazy fuckin' girlfriend around her.”
“Did you want to fuck him the last time you were here?” Lea persisted.
“Um... no,” I answered honestly.
Shane put a hand to his heart, faking pain, but gave me a smile. Then he threw an arm around Lea's shoulders, hauling her against his body, and laying a whopper of a kiss on her. I mean... there was tongue.
“Well now that that is out of the way,” Breaker broke in for the first time since Shane noticed me. He reached into his pocket, drawing out the chain with the key and waving it at Shane.
Shane's eyes landed on it, then quickly went to me, a brow raised. And the question there was clear– are you really with him or is there a problem?
“Got into some trouble,” I admitted. It was true enough. “Need my stuff back to try to fix it.”
“And he's helpin'?” Shane asked, not looking the least convinced. My eyes slid to Gym-Brat Barbie and Shane jerked his head at her. “Get lost for five,” he told her, and in a huff, she did.
“I don't think I want to hear this either,” Lea said, sliding out from under Shane's arm. “I'm gonna go to Fee's and see what creepy phone sex callers she gets today.”
And with no further explanation, she was gone.
“Trouble?” Shane prompted.
“Well, Breaker here was hired by Lex to, um, kidnap me.”
“Fuckin' serious?” Shane asked, turning his attention to Breaker. “Thought you didn't deal in women.”
“I fuckin' don't,” Breaker answered, starting to look almost tired. “They got Shoot. What fuckin' choice did I have?”
At this, Shane shrugged a shoulder. “Right. Let's go get you your shit,” he said to me, then led us through his gym into the back room, unlocking the door, and letting us inside. He leaned back against the wall as I took the key from Breaker's hand, trying real hard not to touch his skin, and judging by the eye-smile I was getting... he knew exactly why. I turned away from him, walking over to my locker and unfastening the lock.
“You two fucking?” Shane's voice asked, making me jump and turn in a way that was almost... guilty.
“What? No!” I answered, my voice only a little squeaky. Then, more calmly, “He only just kidnapped me at like three am this morning,” I offered.
At this, Shane laughed. “Hell, babe, I've seen him pick up a girl in under three minutes.”
Oh.
Well.
Okay then.
“Not this girl,” I said firmly, taking the small box out of the locker and leaving it open. I wouldn't be needing to use it anymore.
Breaker's brow was raised at me, obviously not letting go of the 'not this girl' comment. But his eyes dropped to the box. “What's in there?”
I put it down on the break room table, flipping off the lid to reveal two dozen USB drives.
“Shit,” Shane observed. “That's all dirt isn't it?”
“Yeah,” I said, nodding.
Breaker's eyes rose to mine. “Doll, how long have you been workin' on this?”
“Ten years,” I answered automatically. “I was sixteen when my mother killed herself because of that dickhead. I wanted to make sure he didn't get away with it.”
“Away with what?” Breaker asked, his voice almost... gentle.
“Away with any of it. The rapes. The murders. Anything. I want him to pay.”
Breaker's eyes gentled to match his tone, “Alex...”
“Alright,” Shane said, interrupting the moment, “I can't be involved in this. Not directly. Not dragging my family in the middle of a war,” he said, moving toward the door. His eyes found mine. “Good luck, baby.” He turned his attention to Breaker. “Be smart or you'll lose them both,” he told him then walked out.
“Alright,” Breaker said, his tone back to normal and I felt almost sad for losing the softness. “Let's get out of here. Do we need your laptop to look at that shit or can mine work?”
“Any laptop will work,” I said, shrugging. It didn't matter what you opened them on. The only safeguard was the fact that I was the only one who knew the passwords or the key to break the code.
“Good. Let's go to my place then,” he said, turned his back to me, and tore through the gym.
I had to jog to keep up with him, watching his tense shoulders with a growing sense of unease.
Because I felt like something had changed back in that break room.
But I had no freaking idea what it was.
Seven
Breaker
Alex slipped back into her sweatshirt as soon as we got in the truck. Partly because it was cold but mostly because of the incident with me pawing at her tits earlier.
She wasn't wrong to cover up.
I would have liked to finish what I started.
I don't know what the fuck it was with her– why I couldn't seem to keep my hands off of her. But I couldn't. So it was better she kept on as many layers as possible.
If she could put a reign on that sexy as fuck temper too, we'd be all the better.
I needed to stop thinking about getting in her pants and focus on making a plan to try to get all of us out of this situation alive. Which, well, wasn't gonna be fuckin' easy.
But maybe whatever the hell she had on all those USB drives would make it less complicated.
“That's your place, isn't it?” she asked for the first time since we got in the car. Forty minutes of silence, both of us lost in our own thoughts.
She was pointing up at the top of the hill where a lone house stood. Not big. A simple two bedroom brick structure up an incline that was damn near impossible if there was so much as a dusting of snow on the ground.
“Why'd you say that?” I asked as I turned up the rock lined side road. I'd laid the rocks myself, scooping them out of the back of my truck every day for weeks. It made it damn near impossible to approach my place silently.
“Because you're like... you know...”
“A criminal?” I supplied, slanting my eyes to her, smiling.
“Well, yeah. I mean... you get involved with a lot of bad people. It seems advantageous to live in a house where you can see if anyone approaches from like a mile away.”
“It is,” I confirmed, pulling the truck around to the back and parking. “It's also... advantageous to have brick walls and bullet-resistant glass.”
At this, she giggled. Actually... fuckin'... giggled.
And fuck if it didn't sound like music.
“What?” I asked, fighting a smile.
She fought to control her laugh, lost, and shrugged a shoulder. “I could see a lot of people wanting to kill you is all,” she said, smiling wider.
I chuckled, shaking my head, and climbing out of the truck. Mostly because if I didn't, I was going to haul her into my seat and kiss that smartass grin right off her face.
The attraction thing? Yeah, it was becoming a problem.
I needed to be focused.
And her pretty little self wasn't making that easy.
I unlocked the front door, punching the pin into the security system as it steadily beeped its warning, then moved aside to let Alex in.
My house was comfortable. That was the only plan I had when I finally bought it– I wanted a place to settle into on the rare occasion where I wasn't on the road and sleeping in old motels.
Directly inward and to the left was the u-shaped kitchen, the cabinets a light cherry, the counters a swirling white and red marble. All the floors were wide-planked, medium tinted hardwood... stretching from the kitchen on the left toward the living room on the right, double doors leading out to the back deck. I had a big flatscreen in an entertainment system lined with endless DVDs across from a black leather couch and scuffed coffee table where I had never shied away from propping my boots up. There were a couple earth-toned braided rugs thrown around by the doors so I didn't trek mud all over with my boots since I wasn't exactly a big fan of scrubbing floors.
I looked over to find Alex looking around, her brows drawn together, making two little vertical indentations form between her dark brows. “What?”
She looked back toward me. “Just wasn't what I was expecting,” she admitted, but there was a strange sadness in her voice. “How often do you stay here?”
I shrugged a shoulder. “Few days a month. Longer in the winter when I don't want to travel as much.”
To this, she nodded, walking over toward my living room and looking through my DVDs.
“What's up?” I asked, noticing her dropped shoulders.
She shrugged. “I've been on my own since I was seventeen,” she admitted, her voice far away. “And still... everything I own can be thrown into two moving boxes with five minutes notice.”
Jesus. She was jealous of my house. Small and simple as it was. Her life was even more empty than mine.
I walked up behind her, watching her fingers trace the spines of the DVD boxes. My hand landed on her hip from behind, for once, not sexual. Just a touch. “You gotta put roots down sometime, Alex.”
“Yeah, maybe once Lex is out of the picture once and for all,” she said, pulling away from me. “So where's your laptop?”
The moment was gone. Her shields were back up.
“How about you get yourself a shower? I'll make coffee and some food and then we can get to work.”
She turned back to me, shaking her head. “You need to like... brush up on your kidnapping lessons. I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to offer me showers and food.”
“How 'bout we pretend I ain't your kidnapper from here on out? We're working together unless we have to pretend otherwise.”
To this, I got a shrug. “Alright. I could use a shower. That train floor was filthy.”
I nodded, leading her down the hall to the bathroom, leaving her for a second so I could go grab her a t-shirt to put on. Pants would be useless, she was too small for my stuff to stay up without her holding them in place.
And I was trying real hard to not think about her being without panties or a bra underneath one of my t-shirts as I went to the kitchen and started throwing together some breakfast.
I could cook. When the occasion called for it. Being up on the outskirts of civilization made the lure of takeaway less tempting. So I figured out how to throw some stuff together to feed myself.
I settled on omelets, breakfast potatoes, and toast and set to work as the coffee dripped.
The bathroom door opened as I reached for the plates.
And out she walked.
In nothing but my tee.
It was wide on her, her thinness something like half my size. But it wasn't long. Maybe mid-thigh. Giving me a nice view of her long legs.
“I can't believe you cook,” she commented, coming into the kitchen and reaching for the pot of coffee– pouring into the two cups I had left out in front of it.
“Why?”
“I don't know. I guess because I've never known anyone who could cook.”
“Not even your mom?”
“No. I mean... not unless things like spaghetti and frozen pizza counts.”
“They don't,” I clarified.
“Then no.”
“Well, this ain't anything special,” I said as she leaned around my arm to peek at the food on the stove, “but it ain't bad.”
“Smells good,” she allowed, then moved back. Thankfully because the smell of my soap was all over her and it was a little too intimate. “Where's your laptop? I can show you some stuff while we eat.”
“Drawer under the TV,” I said, scooping food onto plates.
I set the food on the coffee table, went back to get the cups of coffee, and when I got there, she had already gotten into my computer. And I mean... into it. As in... past the password protection.
“The fuck?”
“You're supposed to use words and numbers, you know. I mean... not that it would help, but still...”
I shook my head, handing her a fork and watching her put the laptop on her lap and balance a plate on the arm of the couch like it was something she had done a thousand times before.
“So what do you got?”
She reached into the box, pulling a USB out by random and slipping it into the drive. I watched as she punched in a passcode that seemed to have at least thirty digits, her fingers moving over the keys so fast there was no way I could even catch two of them put together.
The screen popped up. And there were folders upon folders, each locked individually. And even when she opened one, they were coded. She was careful. I appreciated that kind of attention to detail.
“Just have to... oh my god,” she groaned, her head going backward, her eyes closing. “This is nothing special?” she asked, chewing her food, rolling her eyes at me. “What the hell did you put in the potatoes?”
“Just onions and spices, doll,” I said, shrugging.
“If I live through this, I need to learn to cook.”
“We live through this, I'll teach you.”
Whoa.
What the fuck?
I'll teach her to cook?
What the hell was that?
I didn't teach anyone anything.
I certainly didn't let women hang around and chop onions with me.
Jesus Christ.
“I might take you up on that,” she said almost shyly as she turned her attention back to her computer, brought up some kind of box and typed rapidly until the page suddenly refreshed and the code was gone.
“Holy shit,” I said, dropping my plate back onto the coffee table and leaning closer. “Is that what I think it is?”
“I released a nasty little bug on his cell and computer a while back. But not before I did some digging around myself. This is a list of the dirt he has on all the organizations in the area. This is how he keeps them under his thumb.”
“How the fuck did you get into his system?”
At this, she snorted, shaking her head. “I sent him an email from an address that was one letter away from one of his usual contacts so he wouldn't be suspicious of it. And I sent him a link to a snuff film.”
“A snuff film?” I asked, my brows lowering.
“Yeah you know... like a porn where they kill a girl at the end. But it isn't porn. It's real.”
“Al, I know what a snuff film is, doll. I just didn't think they actually existed.”
“Oh, they exist,” she said with such authority that there was no question in my mind about the topic anymore. “Incidentally, I wasn't sending him to a real one. All he had to do was click the link and the bug was in his system. It actually sent him to a video about ending sexual assault.”
“So this is what you got from him?”
“This,” she agreed, throwing the lock back onto the files and ejecting the USB, “along with financial records and pictures.”
“Pictures?”
As soon as I pressed the point, she looked pale. She reached for her plate and set it on the coffee table only half eaten like she had lost her appetite.
“Yeah, pictures,” she said, digging around for the USB. When she found it, she held it up toward me, but she didn't plug it in.
“What are the pictures of, Alex?”
She swallowed hard. “Women.”
I was pretty sure I knew where that information was heading, but I needed confirmation. “Doll...”
She took a deep breath, looking down at the keyboard, typing into it.
“Pictures of women in varying forms of undress. Enduring varying forms of torture. Most prominently, women in the act of being raped.”
“Jesus fuckin' Christ.”
“Yeah.”
“What can we do with this kind of information?” I wondered allowed.
“I was thinking that while I was showering,” she admitted and an image of her naked flashed into my mind before I very deliberately pushed it away.
“Come to any conclusions?”
“I could put this out there.”
She said 'out there' in a way that implied it had a meaning. Just one I didn't understand. “Out where?”
“The dark net. Deep web. Whatever you want to call it.”
I'd heard of it. Anyone who did anything illegal in their lives probably had. It was a place for people like Alex. Hackers. People who did shit they wouldn't be able to do on normal browsers. And other small time crimes– endless pirated material. Porn. Government documents. But also, it was for other things. The bad shit. Gun running. Drug selling. Skin trading. Pedophilia. Fuck, even to get yourself black market organs.
“How would that help?”
At this, she shrugged. “It could incense the right people. You'd be surprised. There's a lot of people out there who actively try to shut down things like this. Operations other people are too scared to take on. In the grand scheme of things... I'm a nobody. My skills are pathetic compared to what some of these people can do. And some of them aren't just freaks behind a computer screen. They're people who... do shit. If I can ferret them out, get them interested, maybe they will take action into their own hands.”
I couldn't disagree with her. There had been a lot of hackers calling themselves hacktivists all over the news in the past few years. Taking down federal websites, turning the internet back on in Egypt when the government shut it down, releasing the names of KKK members, trolling organizations until they caved into whatever demands the hackers were making. They were powerful in ways I didn't understand but knew enough to respect.
“How long would that take?”
“No way to tell,” she said, typing until my screen went black and some site opened up a forum called 'info exchange'. “Could be minutes. Could be days. But it's worth a try.”
I had to agree since it was all we really had to go on.
So she set to work, digging out the occasional USB, unlocking certain files, adding them to the post she was creating. Crime reports of beaten and raped women with descriptions of their attacker, detailing a very specific scar he had running across his chest. She found a shirtless picture of Lex and posted it beside the reports, scar on full display. Then she opened the USB that made her pale, unlocking a folder saying simply 'faces' – and uploaded half a dozen shots of women with their faces brutalized.
She ended the post explaining her situation. Who she was (a nickname. Not her real name). That she had been working on her case for ten years. That she was compromised and there was a price on her head. Leaving out the part about me. Detailing how many more incriminating files she had on the topic. Then giving instructions for anyone to contact her.
Which was, apparently, through some kind of coded chat that she was going to leave open on my laptop to keep an eye on.
“Now we wait,” she said, settling the laptop on the coffee table and reaching for her cold coffee. She was silent for a minute, contemplating the black TV. “How long do you think I have?”
“What?” I asked, turning to look at her.
“Before Lex finally decides to come fetch me. How long?”
That was a good question. One I had been considering myself. He didn't seem like he was in a rush when he told me of the deal. And maybe that was because he wanted me to get worried about Shoot. The more time that passed, the more chance of him getting himself into trouble. If Lex made me sweat it, maybe I would be more willing to hand over Alex.
At least, that was all I could come up with anyway.
Nothing else made sense.
“Not more than a few more days I'd guess,” I admitted. “Three tops.”
Alex simply nodded. No hysterics. No reaction whatsoever.
“Did you happen to pick me up...”
At this, I sighed, reaching into my front pocket and pulling out a baggy with white powder. “This is the good shit. Strong. A third of this could make a non-user OD.” I handed it to her. “Ain't never bought drugs before,” I admitted, looking down at the baggy.
“Well, at least it was for a good cause,” she tried lightening the mood.
“Doll, you dying... that ain't a good cause.”
She looked away from me, taking the smack and slipping it into her boot, ripping the lining slightly away from the ankle to push the baggie between the lining and the leather. Easy access, but hidden.
“Alex,” I called, watching her look blankly across the room.
“What?” she asked, her voice distant.
“Look at me.”
She exhaled sharply and turned her head. And there was just... nothing there. No sadness. No horror. Again, just her grim resignation to her fate.
“Come here,” I said, stretching an arm across the back of the couch.
“What?” she asked, brows drawing together.
“Come over here,” I repeated.
“Why?” she asked, but her body had turned slightly. Even without knowing why, her body wanted to be closer to mine.
“Because I am going to show you one of the many reasons you should be upset about not being alive to keep experiencing.” Her eyes held mine, seeing my intentions, and weighing whether or not she was going to submit herself to them. “Seventy-two hours, doll,” I went on. “We could both be dead. The fuck we wasting time for?”
Her eyes slanted to the laptop for a second, seeing no activity, then letting her eyes fall on mine. I saw it before she did. In the quickening and shallow-ing of her breath. In her slightly parted lips. In her heavy lidded eyes.
She swallowed, wet her lips, then closed the space between us.