Dirty Ugly Toy (40 page)

The room pulsates with ripples of my rage that I can’t contain. The unknown blond fucker who hurt my Jessica is his accomplice. “Who is he?”

“So damn oblivious. You’ll find out soon enough,” he sneers.

My eyes flit to the doorway and Dubois stands there, his shoulders stiffened and his face twisted into an ugly scowl I’ve never witnessed before. Even as I see him standing there, I don’t believe it. Dubois hasn’t ever
not
had my back. He has it now. I know it.

Two steps into the room.

His arm raises.

Pop!

My eyes bug out of my head as Jamal crumples to the floor. Trevor’s eyes are on mine but now his palm is on his throat desperately attempting to hold in the blood. It runs down his front and his eyes roll back into his head. Jamal crawls out of the way as Trevor stumbles forward. He falls on his face and the blood gushes from him.

“Sir, are you okay?”

Dubois still has his weapon raised but concern paints his features.

“Uh, shit. Yes. What the fuck, man? I thought you were dead!”

He shakes his head as he steps into the room. “I was busy cleaning up his mess. Trevor was planning something big. He’s been emailing with an unknown about gathering evidence for your ‘demise’ which included stealing information from the servers. The idiot sent in a paid fool to take the backup tapes. My only choice was to burn the evidence of your clientele and the man as well. Trevor was only a puppet—someone else is now running this show. And that, sir, is why we need to get back to Seattle. I think their plan was to lure you away from your home. I don’t think Jessica or Christine or your father are safe. We need to move.”

The reality of the situation snaps me to attention. “What about this?” I point at the dead body.

Dubois lifts his chin and whistles. Two men—old thugs—saunter in. They’re both plainly packing heat and dragging two huge bags.

“J-Dawg and Kryptonite will handle this. They’ll take him back to LA, set it up as if he was involved in some shady drug deal gone bad. I’ve paid them handsomely for their assistance. Nothing will lead back to you, sir.”

It occurs to me that Dubois knows these guys from way back when, before I rescued and hired him.

“D-Bag, we got this, bro. Whitey here is gonna be another corpse on LAPD’s list of unsolved homicides,” one of the guys tells Dubois. “And we’ll make sure your auntie Bea gets the other 10k. We’re good for that shit, brotha.”

I know Dubois sends all of his earnings from his rental to her, but sometimes he likes to send her a little extra in the form of cash so she doesn’t have to report it for taxes. He takes care of that woman who always did what she could for him.

“And that’s why you two are my boys,” Dubois says with a grin that hardly makes an appearance. He then turns to me and the stiffness that is him returns. “Let’s get to Seattle, sir.”

By the time we land at the small airport, I’m fucking furious. Dubois informed me that Cart had called him. Christine and Jessica had been chased and nearly run off the road. I’m enraged. Of course I know deep down who hurt her, and I’m a stupid goddamned failure for not being able to protect her from him.

Dubois hauls ass the whole way back to the house while I grit my teeth to dust. I’m exhausted as hell having flown through the night and not catching any sleep. All I want is Jess in my arms—to assure her I’m going to sort this shit out. That I’ll never leave her again because I’m selling that goddamned hotel and Trevor is no longer a threat. I just need to dispatch this other asshole and then she and I can live in peace. No more bullshit.

The sun is starting to rise when we pull in the driveway. Dubois opens the garage door but as we start to pull in, something catches my eye on the door leading into the house.

“Stop!”

I scramble out of the car to find a rabbit mutilated almost beyond recognition on the doorstep. In its blood, written on my door I find the words:

I’M HUNTING WABBIT.

When Dubois curses from behind me, I leap into action. I charge in through the garage to make sure she’s unharmed. When I make it into the entryway and deactivate the alarm, my heart leaps into my throat at the silence in the house.

“Jessica! Christine!” I shout.

Silence.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Please, God. Don’t let my family be gone. I can’t survive this again.

“In here, son.”

I nearly collapse in relief but instead charge into the living room. Jessica is curled up against my dad sleeping. Her cheeks are swollen from crying and she clutches her purse in her sleep. She’s wearing tennis shoes, her black yoga pants, and a grey hoodie. I want to scoop her into my arms and carry her to my bedroom—to snatch up my comfy blanket and hold her over the warm vent. I want to pause everything and live in the moment with her.

“Is she okay?” My voice is hoarse.

He frowns and rubs sleep from his eyes. “Define okay. Son, you have a lot of explaining to do.”

My heart palpitates. What does he know? I’m still mentally freaking the fuck out when she stirs awake and then sits up. Fear flashes in her eyes at seeing me.

Fucking
fear.

Of all the times I’ve whipped her ass, humiliated her, threatened her, she’s afraid of me now? When all I want to do is grab her up and spend my entire life worshipping her. What the fuck happened while I was gone?

“I know about the book.”

My skin becomes ice as her chilling words cut their way through me. Of course she fucking knows now. The curious woman already figured out the code to my bedroom. My safe has the same goddamned code!

“Baby, let me explain—”

“No!” she hisses. “You’re a murderer, Braxton! I will not be another page in your book. Consider this my final fucking goodbye. Good riddance you monster. You’re no better than my husband.”

Her words slice through me and the blackness of my soul pours out. Husband. Monster. Goodbye. Dad is trying to calm her and Dubois is murmuring to me but the roar of fury deafens me. I can’t hold onto her any longer. It’s time I do what’s best for her and not what I want.

“Tie her up. Her stay is over.” My words are cold and empty. The room silences as the finality saturates each and every one of their heads.

Dubois is the first to snap into action. He grabs hold of her and manhandles her screaming self into the garage. Once he’s managed to get her out of the room, my eyes land on the angry ones of my dad.

“Braxton Kennedy, I don’t know what the hell is going on but we are going to fix this. Talk to me, son. Do not do whatever it is you’re about to do. Jessica loves you and you love her. What you’re about to do is final and it’s a mistake.”

I wave a hand at him. “Dad, we’ll talk when I get back. Tell Cartier I want him to take Christine back home. Keep them safe.”

Turn off your heart, Brax.

Let your head call the shots, Brax.

I harden my heart and make the decision to do what’s necessary.

Tears should roll down her bright red cheeks and her garbled pleas should become more frantic with each passing mile.

But not with her. Bunny is different. Always has been, always will be.

Dubois trussed her up tight at the estate just like all the others—her wrists fastened behind her back with a zip tie, a matching one around her ankles above her tennis shoes, and a scarf strung through her open mouth to the point of nearly gagging her.

Yet, instead of begging and crying, she’s glaring at me. The fear that she exposed briefly to me is gone and hate fills her expression. Somehow the hate she conjures up isn’t all for me. It’s for every wrong thing that’s ever happened to her in her life—the loss of Grace, the prostitution and addiction to drugs, the abuse she endured at the hotel from that fucker, and everything I’ve done to her—both perceived and real.

They all try to escape the inevitable in the end. And so should she.

Every single fucking time it’s the same.

Please don’t get rid of me, sir.

But Jess—Bunny isn’t like them. Her eyes glitter with promise and fierce determination. If she had a weapon, there’d be no doubt in my mind she’d attempt to use it on me. The thought fucking guts me. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

I drag my eyes away from the woman I love and turn my anxious attention to the Washington state tree line along the interstate. We’re almost there—to the place where each toy meets their end. Where I dust my hands and start anew. Yet this time, I want to scream in frustration. I want to figure out another way—to make her see the goodness inside of me instead. But I know this is the only way.

“Another ten minutes, sir,” Dubois assures me from the driver’s seat.

I meet his eyes in the mirror and nod before turning back to the window. When we slow and then turn onto a gravel road that leads into the dark, thick woods, she begins growling through the scarf.

No fear.

Hate. Hate. Hate.

Jesus, it wasn’t supposed to go down this way!

“You were fun for a little while,” I lie through gritted teeth. She was fun for every second of every day I had with her. More than fun, she completed broken parts of me. “But now it’s time to say goodbye.”

This toy shit is over. I’m retiring in more ways than one. Selling the hotel and taking care of Dad are my new priorities. Plus, there’ll never be another woman like her. It’s my punishment to exist without the sun. If I can’t keep her safe and mine, then this is the only way.

Dubois climbs out of the car and I hear him exchange words in Russian with Matvei. Jessica, as if she understands the language, widens her eyes in surprise. Does she question her fate which she was so certain of only seconds before?

“Time to say goodbye, Bunny.”

I want to taste her, just like the others. But Bunny is different. If I put my mouth on her pouty lips, I’ll become so goddamned addicted again, I won’t be able to go through with what needs to be done. My chest aches in protest.

She doesn’t flinch when I reach over and tug the scarf free. I expect her to beg and plead for her life like they all do. To grant her an extension on her shitty life. Unfortunately for her, I’m not in control anymore.

“And to think, I believed you truly loved me.” Her voice wobbles but not from fear; from betrayal. It cuts me deep.

I take a deep breath and try not to look at her. In the past, I’d be craving to fuck my toy one last time before I said goodbye. Not with her. With Jessica Fucking Kennedy, I crave to haul her to me. Promise her the world. Kiss her until forever. Make love to the woman who owns my heart.

“Bunny, I don’t love you. I never have.”

Her lip curls up in disgust and she shakes her head.“I hope I haunt your fucking dreams, Brax. Every single night. I want you to think about what you lost.”

I lean forward and inhale her but don’t kiss her. “There will be no doubt, Jessica. I’ll think of you every second of every day for the rest of my shitty existence.”

Gently, I tug a strand from her messy, dark bun and twirl the hair in my fingertips. She relaxes at the gesture and I crave for the pause button. I want to stretch out a few seconds into eternity.

“Ready, sir?”

I swallow down my emotion and turn toward Dubois. “Yes. Bring me the scissors.”

She lifts her chin and waits. All the other toys scream and cry, assuming I’d hurt them with the gleaming, metal scissors. A sad sob catches in her throat as I clip the only piece of her I get to keep.

She loves me.

But that doesn’t matter because her time is up.

There will never be another toy.

I’ve lost the desire to restore.

Nothing will ever be pristine and shiny in my eyes, not after Jessica.

“Any last words, Bunny?”

A single tear rolls down her cheek and she shakes her head. The hate has long since drained from her eyes and her gaze becomes magnetic. With each ticking second, I’m drawn closer to her. She doesn’t have to utter any words because I can feel them. Every single one.

Love. Confusion. Distrust. Betrayal. Sadness. Loss.

I’ll fucking miss her.

My life will never be the same.

“Goodbye.”

She makes no sound when Dubois gently ushers her out of the car with him. Matvei takes her away from my presence. Together, they do what I don’t like doing. They do the hard part. My part is always easy.