Page 146 of Jake's Angel
“She doesn’t seem in agreement with the terms of your negotiations. In fact, she ran away, which leads me to believeshe strongly disagrees with your plans for her,” Gabe states, the threatening tone in his voice unmistakable, though the preppy asshole doesn’t seem to notice or maybe he just doesn’t care.
“Her opinion doesn’t matter. The deal has already been made. Avery has been mine since she was fourteen, whether she likes it or not, and I’m not leaving here without her.” He grits his teeth, attempting to sound threatening. Wanna bet?
Gabe’s lips curl slowly. A menacing glare has our guest squirming in his seat.
“Mack,” Gabe calls. Pop is moving around the room to the table where he uncovers his tools, running his hand over them slowly, inspecting each and every one. Kyle’s face pales. He swallows hard. Pop picks up a long blade and runs it over the palm of his hand, back and forth as if testing the blade against his own skin.
“String him up,” Pop orders. Gabe moves his chair back and sits in it, leaning his shoulder against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. Kyle jumps to his feet, looking for a way out.
“What? What are you doing?” Kyle shouts. His face turning white as a sheet and the quiver has returned to his voice, only this time it’s fear, not the cold that’s the cause. Hawk stands to his feet, rubbing his palms together in giddy anticipation.
Declan slams his fist into his face. Kyle shrieks like a goddamn girl. Declan then proceeds to shackle Kyle’s hands. He drags him, kicking, screaming, and now bleeding, across the floor to the back wall by his arms. Jameson grabs under Kyle’s arms, lifting his hands above his head while Declan, using a remote, lowers a large metal hook from the ceiling. Jameson, using the thick metal chain of the shackles, places his hands over the hook, clamping it shut nice and secure. Hawk binds his legs individually with a second set of shackles on the ground, leaving Kyle standing in nothing but his underwear, spread eagle for our torturing pleasure.
“Who’s about to get his cocky little ass beat?” Hawk singsongs. Each of us taps our fingers to our nose, symbolizing, not it. Hawk scrunches his nose at Kyle and taunts, “Ooh, you didn’t say not it, Kyle. That means you’re it!” He giggles maniacally.
Twisted bastard.
“You won’t get away with this! Do you know who I am? I have money! I can pay you! Whatever you want, just name your price,” Kyle shouts. His voice sounding a little muffled, probably from the blood and snot blocking his nose. Just for fun, Declan presses the button, lifting him slightly off the floor, pulling his legs taut, leaving just his toes touching the ground, no doubt making him feel like his balls could rip apart at any moment.
Wouldn’t that be a shame?
“My father is a very prominent man in Baron’s Edge, and Mr. Cusenza—he’ll be looking for me. He’ll send his people to look for me. If he finds out what you’ve done, he’ll burn this place to the fucking ground.”
“Wait.” Gabe says. “You’re important to Mr. Cusenza? Like his right-hand man?”
“I’m one of his top producing men. I run shipments.”
“What shipments?” Caleb asks, finally speaking up. “You mean the drugs in the warehouse on the harbor? The ones the cops seized two days ago.”
Kyle’s eyes widen.
“Cusenza is in the wind, Kyle. There was a huge explosion near his warehouse, and he bailed out.” Gabe’s tone is bored.
“The cops took everything and shut the warehouse down. All sorts of alphabet groups were crawling around the place, the FBI, DEA. The news lady was so happy she might’ve creamed herself over the breaking news story,” Hawk says, still tapping away on his laptop.
“You’re lying! He wouldn’t leave me to die. You don’t understand who I am. I promise he will pay you.”
He spins the screen, showing Kyle the latest video footage on the local news channel for Baron’s Edge. Kyle looks defeated.
“Oh, we know who you are, Kyle Christopher Whittmore. Twenty years old. Lives in Baron’s Edge. Graduated top of his class from Vantenburg Prepatory. Judging by where you’re currently hanging out.” Hawk eyes him up and down where he hangs from floor-to-ceiling in our basement. “I’m thinking Daddy bought your grades, because it’s obvious you aren’t too smart.” Hawk winks and the pretty boy growls, rattling his chains. “The youngest son and heir to one Michael Whittmore. Wealthy tycoon who owns the famous chain of Whittmore hotels.”
I step forward, putting myself front and center in the whiny little fucker’s eyesight.
“Who the fuck are you?” Kyle asks, snot and tears running down his face, tremors in his voice. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s seconds away from pissing himself.
“Oh, him?” Hawk comes around, poking his head between me and Kyle, motioning to me as he explains. “This here is Avery’s real man, and well, he’s a little pissed off about you scaring his woman and thinking she’s yours.”
A low growl comes from the back of the room. It’s Gabe.
“Oh, sorry, Pres,” Hawk says, stepping back, throwing his hands up in dramatic fashion. “Guess I should’ve let y’all talk about this privately first. My bad.”
He’s going to pay for that one.
Although I’ve already claimed Avery as my own, we haven’t formally discussed it nor put it to a vote.
“By the way, Kyle,” Hawk spins his head back to Kyle’s face. “Gabe here is Avery’s father. You know what happens when youfuck with a daddy’s girl? The only piece of his wife he has left in this world? His most precious baby girl?”
“She’s not yours! She’s mine! I’ve already ma—” I launch a fist into his ribs, causing him to yell out in pain before he can finish that sentence. He loses control of his bladder and pisses all over himself.