Page 4 of Savage Behavior

Trouble: I left a camera behind. Could you grab it for me? Thanks.

Me: will do.

Trouble: Watch if you want. I give you permission.

There is a winky face emoji.

I stared at the screen, unsure of how to respond.

I bagged up the sheets after the twins got the body off the bed.

“She gives me permission, pfft.” I didn’t even realize I said it out loud until I turned and saw the twins staring at me in confusion. They looked at each other and then at me.

“You okay, boss?” Ares asked. Apollo was laughing.

“Fuck off dickheads” I responded, tossing a pillow at them. We owned the hotel, so I wasn’t too concerned about cleanup; we ran a tight ship. Still, we had to make sure the body was disposed of properly and couldn’t be found. The twins were masters at that.

“Alright, we are out,” they said, saluting me as they exited the room with the laundry basket filled with Rico’s body. He fucked up when he messed with Ryder’s girl. Well, she wasn’t his girl yet, but she would be. I didn’t know why he was waiting to claim her, but I couldn’t really say shit now, could I? I hadn’t spoken a word to Britt the whole time we had known each other. She lived a hard life in foster homes, abused, assaulted, and raped. She put her pimp in prison, then he owed us, so we took her, but only because we wanted to save her, protect her. She was still so young. We enrolled her in college and paid off all her debts; we also kept Krista safe. They were a package deal.

As soon as I was sure the twins weren’t coming back, I looked for the camera she left behind. She usually left it in the restroom or anywhere there was a mirror. I stood in the bedroom and looked around. To the right of the bed was a gold floor-length mirror. That was it. I felt around the front of the frame, and when I felt it, I saw it. A raised little bump. My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I pulled it out. A text message illuminated the screen.

Trouble: you found me…

Trouble: Enjoy

I shoved my phone in my pocket, grabbed the bags of her evidence, and exited the room.

I placed the red card on the knob letting the cleaning lady know this one needed a deep clean. It wasn’t necessary, but this was a well-known five-star hotel. I walked down the hall and pressed the button to the elevator. I stood there waiting impatiently. I wanted to get to the mansion. I wanted to watch her. Get my fix.

***

I slammed the door to my room shut and hurried over to my computer; I logged into the camera systems, knowing she got one from the media room. The data was loaded in her private folder from today. I’m the only one who had access, which is how I found her. I’m the watcher. I see everything everyone does. She was like a shadow. She used to erase them before we could see them. I understood why, but the first time I saw her in person, I was assigned cleanup crew; okay, I volunteered. I knew it meant that I could see this mysterious black widow. She was gorgeous, tall, sexy as fuck, with a slim waist and wide hips, long legs and thick thighs. Trouble personified. Her body looked like something that was crafted from a man’s dreams. Then there was her face, exquisite and exotic. We passed each other in the hall; I could smell her pussy as we walked by her and the scent of her Prada perfume. Her video was there that night as if she wanted me to watch it. So, I did. Now I made sure I was on every clean-up mission even though it was below my paygrade just so I could see her, the flushed cheeks, the messy hair, and wish it were me that made her delectable pussy smell like that.

I pressed play and watched as she walked in and took off her trench coat. I bit my knuckles, my cock hardening as I saw her in the bondage lingerie I left on her pillow.

“Fuck trouble, you’re so sexy.”

I adjusted myself, taking my cock out as I observed. She looked into the camera after she placed it. She was staring straight through me.

I saw her fuck him, slit his throat, and then she came back to the mirror, spreading her legs and fucking herself, making her pussy clench around her fingers as they were inside her. She thrusts her hips forward into her hands and looked straight at me, rolling her head back and moaning, never losing eye contact. “Derek,” slipped out a whisper through her luscious lips. I stroked my dick. The hardness ached. This wasn’t enough. I needed to release inside of her. Only she could satiate this appetite I had.

My abs tightened as I watched her come undone in the video, imagining my cock as her fingers.

“Come on, Trouble, make me come.”

And I did, so fucking hard, it hurt. I slammed my fists on the desk, and the chair flew back as I rose, making it fall. Rage and adrenaline overtook me. I fucking wanted her; I wanted her to be mine; I wanted her to stop having to do this.

I grabbed the chair and chucked it at the screens, taking as many out as possible. I knew they would have to be replaced, but I didn’t give a fuck. It was the hardest thing wanting to be with her and not be able to. She was turning nineteen soon, and then I would claim her.

Chapter 4

Britt

Itook a couple of days to myself, focusing on the routines for dance class. I was given a lead position. The closer my dreams felt, the harder it was to live them out. I felt like the rug could be pulled out from under me anytime. I finished out my stretches and let the music flood the empty room on repeat. I liked to rehearse alone. I loved my girls, and I would kill for them, clearly because I already have. The flashbacks entered my mind, but only momentarily. I shut them out before I could think about it too much. The brain was a powerful thing, and thoughts were dangerous, they could make or break you. I rerouted those thoughts, imagining Derek watching the little video I left for him, and suddenly, my body was awake.

I began to sway, and my eyes fluttered closed. My hands roamed my body. I bounced on my heels, waiting for the beat to drop. My eyes flew open when it did, and I threw everything into my movement. Exuding power, I pushed out anger, sadness, and all my trauma into every move. Unlike work, dance was where I felt powerful and in control. My body was a weapon, and I used it wisely, but when I was working, I was a puppet on a string. I was a debt that was still collecting interest, and I didn’t know how to get out of the well I was drowning in. but here on this dance floor that seemed so trivial in comparison to life, I was myself.

So, I let the music into my mind. It radiated through my body, flowing like a tangible thing, feeding into my heart and soul and filling my lungs. It was like I wasn’t breathing or living until I was here. I watched myself in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors that covered the wall and perfected every movement. Making sure each one was as sharp as the dagger I carried.