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Chapter Eight

Jolie

The thumping in my brain pounds in time with the beat of my pulse as I slowly come to. It takes a moment for the haze to clear from my mind before I remember I was extremely wasted last night. Sweat coats my body and I feel like I’m in an inferno, with flames licking my skin. Not ready to open my eyes, I try to throw the blanket off and someone groans beside me. Oh shit, not this again . It’s okay, Jolie, last time this happened you didn’t do anything.

I open my eyes and flick my hair from my face, having to spit a few strands from my mouth. My eyes widen when I see a naked, tattooed ass staring back at me. What the actual fuck?! I look down and realise I’m in nothing but a pair of underwear, my tits hanging free. A glance from under my lashes to my right shows Creed tucked under the remaining blanket; no wonder I felt like I was in an inferno trapped between these two. But how in the hell did I end up in bed with them?

“Morning, Tenshi,” Creed croaks as he rolls over to face me.

“Please tell me you at least have clothes on.”

“I do. Chester sleeps naked, but he refused to leave your side. Especially after you threw up on yourself around one in the morning.”

“Please tell me I didn’t do anything stupid,” I groan and slide my way down the bed. I spot a shirt thrown on the floor and give it a quick sniff before I pull it on. Stretching my arms above my head, I try to loosen up my tightly coiled muscles.

“No, you came home and went straight to bed.”

“I appreciate you lying to me, but can you wake him up and make him put some clothes on? I only have so much self-control and that”—I point with a raised brow—“is a good-looking dick.”

Creed smirks at me and nods. I keep my eyes away from Chester. He is a bloody work of art—his tattoos, the shape of his ass. If it wasn’t for them doing what they did, I would’ve happily jumped him and not regretted it.

I step into the en suite and look at myself in the mirror. The sight makes me grimace—I look like a coked-out hooker on a good day. Fuck, maybe if I look like this, they might want to steer clear of me. I go about my business peeing and brushing my teeth, but a shower is going to have to wait until I get some pain meds and food into my stomach.

By the time I leave the bathroom, both guys have disappeared. I head downstairs and find everyone gathered in the kitchen, Brennan dressed in his usual suit and making coffee. Chester has underwear on now, at least, but it still isn’t helping my cause. I’m horny as hell now living with five men who are all equally hot in their own ways. Then seeing them half naked makes me daydream about doing really bad things with them, all while fighting an internal war about how I can’t forgive them. Creed’s eyes darken as he takes me in, and I realise it’s his shirt that I’m wearing. I smirk up at him while biting my lip. Take that, sucker.

Kai lifts his head from the table, catching my attention, and I can’t help but double over in laughter. I don’t understand what he is wearing. He looks like a dad on damn vacation, and if he is wearing his stupid crocs again, they’re going to vanish. What man in his twenties wears them? I understand their practicality but just... no.

Trace quietly sits at the breakfast bar with his back to me. We haven’t really spoken since I’ve been back, and honestly, I don’t know if either of us has much to say.

Brennan slides a coffee in front of me alongside some little green pills. Normal crap doesn’t work for me. At least I know why now and am thankful they have something to help take the edge off. As a sufferer of excruciating period pain, I’m grateful I won’t have to deal with that anymore. Apparently, no amount of genetic engineering can stop a girl from the agony of her monthlies. Speaking of, I better pick up some tampons.

“You look as bad as I feel,” Kai whispers from across the table, sliding his sunglasses off his face.

“I need everyone to sit down.” Brennan clears his throat and looks pointedly at each of us.

We all take our seats and wait, Trace even moving to join us at the table. Once Brennan has all our attention, he licks his lips and takes a deep breath in.

“Mr Z sent me an email this morning. We have our first assignment as a team.”

“What? No, we haven’t even started to train as a team yet and he knows that!” Trace yells, his tone way too aggressive for the situation at hand. Something is going on with him.

“He is testing our ability to keep Jolie safe and in line. This is for us and not her. But, as usual, he has given us our instructions and we need to do as outlined. We leave tonight. Kai and Jolie, go shower, sleep, whatever you need to do to sober up.”

“Together?” Kai inquires, waggling his eyebrows. I flip him off and he laughs. “Just kidding, I know all the tricks to feeling better. Finish your coffee and I’ll order in some food.”

Creed excuses himself, stating he has some work to do in the morgue, while Chester mumbles something about going back to bed, and Trace just walks off without saying a word. Brennan’s phone buzzes, and he goes into the other room to answer it.

Olly jumps up onto the table and hisses at Kai. “Piss off, you wrinkly devil.”

“Hey, you leave him alone,” I admonish, and Olly struts over to me and dips his head for a scratch.

I stand and pick him up, heading for the living room. Before I flop onto the couch, I place Olly down, where he promptly curls up on a throw pillow. Kai joins me, picking up my legs and taking a seat on the couch, then resting my legs across his lap.

“What’s the deal with this mission?”

Kai chuckles. “You make it sound so much more exciting than it is. Occasionally, certain teams get assignments. We expected them to come now that we have you, but we thought we had more time to train as a team before that happened. Previously, we wouldn’t have group assignments since we were technically handlers. Mr Z may have singled us out due to our abilities if a team needed our help, especially after you left, but now you’re back. It shouldn’t be anything too complicated since he didn’t give us notice and we have you with us.”

“And we just have to do what he asks?” I raise an inquisitive brow.

“That’s the general idea. Other teams do it because they want to. Us, though, we don’t really believe we have a choice. We were created, and now it’s time for us to shine. I know it’s hard for you to believe, but we like what we do—we just don’t like that man at the top.”

“I don’t even know the full list of my abilities.” Whining, I change the subject. Honestly, I don’t want to get into it about Mr Z right now. He can go eat a bag of dicks and choke on them for all I care, but I definitely want a front-row seat to that show.

“Don’t worry about it. You just turn up, look pretty, and leave the rest to us.” He winks.

“Oh yeah, and what’s your best ability, huh?”

“It’s very similar to x-ray vision, but I don’t have the best control over it. Luckily for me, I’m really good at sneaking up on people when I need to. It helps that I’m not six foot six and built like a biker.”

“Are you shitting me? That’s awesome! Why did you guys all get the good stuff?”

Kai laughs and finishes ordering us food, then at the flick of a button, a TV raises up from within the damn wall. He picks some random movie and we both just chill, curled up on the couch in our little bubble until our food gets here.

Kai and I spent a few hours relaxing, eating food, and then he made some horrible concoction that he claims helps with hangovers. I now know why—it’s so damn revolting that my stomach recoiled as soon as it went down and then it came straight back up.

I came upstairs an hour ago to get dressed when Brennan informed me he had my outfit sent up to my room. Normally I would kick up a stink about a man dictating what I wear, especially when this is the second time—first Mr Z, and now Brennan—but I figure this is a job and I want to prove my worth. If I’m ever going to get close enough to my biological father to make him believe I’m on his side, I need to learn to rein in my temper tantrums.

I pull the dress out of the garment bag and reconsider that tantrum. There is barely any material, and there’s no way I will be able to wear any underwear. I drop my towel and shimmy into the dress. It’s blood red, crosses at the front, and ties behind my neck—leaving my cleavage on full display and my ass barely covered. The front is tight enough that my breasts look fantastic and pop.

The shoe box that accompanies the garment bag has a pair of matching red heels and I slip them onto my feet. They’re a lot more comfortable than they appear, and damn, they make my legs look great. After I finish applying my makeup, there’s a knock at the door and Brennan pops his head in. He takes his time looking over my outfit, lust filling his eyes. He clears his throat, and the lust disperses as he pulls himself together.

“We’re about to brief.”

I nod and grab my purse, slipping my phone and lipstick inside, and follow Brennan down the stairs. All of them are dressed in suits, their hair slicked back, and I even notice the expensive watches they wear. The kitchen bench is covered in a variety of weapons. While it momentarily shocks me, I don’t know why I’m so surprised—it’s not like I expected them to go unarmed, and I have seen them all carry before.

“Jolie, this is for you,” Chester says, holding out a diamond bracelet. “It has a GPS tracker inside. We also have a fake perfume that’s actually mace, so be careful. Here is a lipstick that flips up into a knife and a fake ID.”

He hands them to me carefully, and I put them into my purse. Once everyone has their weapons of choice, the bench is cleared, and Brennan places a blueprint down on the table.

“Jolie, your mark will be in the bar. Your job is to keep him preoccupied while we’re upstairs searching his room.”

“Wait, you’re trying to tell me it’s going to take the five of you to break into one room?” I give them a mocking glare and roll my eyes. “Kai is more than capable of doing that by himself.”

“We were instructed to go in as a team. I will memorise all the documents once Kai gets us in,” Brennan says, then Kai chimes in.

“Creed and Chester are the muscle in case we get our asses caught, and Trace will be outside in a van scanning the surveillance tapes for any faces he recognises.”

“Fair enough. Do we have a picture of the guy I have to entertain?” I say, wiggling my brows.

“You don’t have to fuck him, Little Angel, just keep him interested, but above all else, keep him at that bar. We will need half an hour, tops.”

“That I can do,” I say with a small nod.

Brennan sifts through a file on the table next to him and hands me a photo of my mark. He’s fairly attractive, for a guy most likely in his forties. Everyone starts to move around the room, and I hand Brennan back the photo.

“His name is Martin Simpson. He’s an extremely wealthy man, but I can’t stress enough that you do not leave that bar with him. He is associated with some very bad things and wouldn’t miss an opportunity to exploit you.”

“What’s he into?”

Brennan sighs. “Young girls. He runs a very exclusive escort business. Men with particular tastes in minors seek him out.”

“Are you going to kill him?”

“Not today,” he mutters. “We need to follow him and make sure that all the girls are safe. Mr Z has only just come onto this case, so we have to gather all the intel we can. With you not having much training, he will probably just send one of his other teams in to finish the job. I’m not sure you’re ready to kill anyone.”

“Is that something I will have to do?”

I don’t know if I’m a killer. I want to be. I want to watch the life drain from Mr Z’s face, but imagining it and reality are very different things. Maybe it’s something that was programmed into me, like a light will flicker on and I’ll go into killer mode.

“Nope, that’s what you have us for,” Kai says, kissing my cheek. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

We all double check that we have everything we need and head outside. The guys all pile into the van and I jump into the front. Trace is already buckled into the driver’s seat, keys in hand. He looks over and gives me a tight smile. “I think we need to talk,” he says, and I nod.

We need to hash this out. I have lost so damn much, and I can’t lose him. Before this, I was willing to take out anyone in my way to find him. Even with all the secrets, he might be my best bet for finding out the ones they’re now keeping.

The sun has long since set as we drive into the city. The lights from the buildings shine brightly like stars, illuminating everything around us. I will never tire of the beauty that the city offers.

Trace takes an unexpected turn and pulls the van over into a side alley. Everyone piles out, including Trace, and I follow suit. Brennan hands everyone a small, clear, rubber-type earpiece and we all put them in. It’s a little uncomfortable but extremely necessary so we can all be in contact with each other if need be.

The guys waste no time and walk towards the building. Trace reaches out and grabs my hand, stopping me in my tracks, and I turn back to face him. “Please be careful. I can’t lose you again.”

“You can’t lose something that’s already lost,” I tell him sadly, slipping my hand from his.

As badly as I want things to go back to the way they were between us, that girl is nothing but a memory. I’m not her anymore. While I keep promising myself that I will talk to him and hear him out, the betrayal is still too strong, and snapping at him just comes naturally.

Walking out of the alley, I survey my surroundings, but I don’t look back. I don’t think I can handle whatever emotions are displayed on his face.

All the guys are already positioned inside, so I open the large glass door and immediately see the sign for the bar. Making my way inside, I scan the room, noting all the exits; old habits die hard. I do another once-over of the interior space, observing that none of the guys are visible.

“Your mark is at the bar. Go up and order something girly,” Trace says through my earpiece.

Gliding my way through tables mostly filled with middle-aged men, their eyes follow me as they try to justify their thoughts about someone so much younger. I’m sure to their minds their wives are no longer young, and looking at me makes them feel youthful again.

“Is this seat taken?” I purr.

Martin looks up at me, his baby-blue eyes sparkling as he gives me a once-over. “No, be my guest.” His lips curl slightly in the corners.

“Thank you.”

The bartender walks over to me and smiles. “What can I get for you?”

I tap my pointer finger on my lips, noting how Martin’s eyes watch the movement. “Vodka lemonade please.”

“Put it on my tab,” Martin says, and the bartender nods.

I don’t miss the look the young guy gives him. I can imagine him thinking I must be a whore, going after a man double my age. The bartender snaps himself out of his thoughts, rushing away to prepare my drink.

“That’s very generous of you.”

“Anything for a pretty girl.” I giggle at his comment, playing into his game, because that’s what this would be for him. “Martin,” he says, offering me his hand.

“Lola,” I hear Trace say through my earpiece.

“Lola, nice to meet you,” I murmur, placing my hand in his. My eyes widen slightly as he lifts my hand and places a kiss on the back of it.

The bartender comes back, places my drink in front of me, and walks away.

“So, what do you do, Martin?” Extracting my hand from Martin’s hold, I pick up the highball glass and take a sip.

“I’m a very successful businessman. What do you do, Lola?”

“Tell him you’re in high school.”

“I’m a senior in high school.”

His eyes widen and his interest piques. He turns to fully face me, raising his hand to flag the bartender.

The bartender brings us fresh drinks, and Martin keeps the conversation flowing. His questions would be unnerving if I didn’t already know he was a sick scumbag. First, he asks about my family, and I tell him honestly that I have no one. Martin says the right things, picks up on the right cues, and really plays the sympathy card. In a twisted way, he is good—I’ll give him that—and I can understand why girls are charmed by him.

The clock behind the bar catches my attention and becomes my focus. Twenty minutes have flown by and there still isn’t any word from the guys saying they are done.

“Excuse me for a moment. I just need to use the bathroom.”

I slip from my chair and find my way to the toilets. “Any news on how much longer this is going to take?”

“No word yet. You’re doing great, but the asshole just slipped something into your drink. You can still drink it without any effect, since your body won’t absorb it. But you assholes, I know you can hear me, so hurry the fuck up. He’ll be expecting Lola to start feeling weird.”

“Almost done,” Chester growls.

I make my way back to the bar and take a seat. Martin slides my glass towards me, and I take a sip.

“I’m glad that I met you, Martin,” I say, before downing the rest of my drink.

“The pleasure has been all mine. I own a yacht—maybe you would like to see it sometime.”

“I don’t know. Wouldn’t your girlfriend get jealous?” I slur my words slightly, giving him the impression that his drug is taking effect.

“No girlfriend.”

“Well lucky me.” I add a giggle.

“We’re done and heading downstairs. Jolie, excuse yourself and start heading outside.”

“I have to go, but if you give me your card, I’ll call you.” I mock-pout, really selling the illusion that I’m interested in him.

Martin slides out a business card and hands it to me. I slip from my chair and stumble on my damn heels, then straighten out my dress and head out of the bar. The lobby of the building is silent and empty, not a person to be found anywhere. A hand wraps around my mouth from behind and I’m pulled against a chest.

“And we meet again,” Martin sneers into my ear, the pungent smell of the whiskey on his breath burning my nose. I stumble as he pulls me along with him and into the elevator.

“What are you doing?” I mumble through his hand. “Let me go.”

“What fun would that be? I need to break in my new toy. Girls like you from broken homes make the best workers. Men like me are willing to pay top dollar for you.”

I close my eyes and sag into his arms. He thinks I’m drugged and there is no way I can fight him off in the lift. I need to buy myself time to kick his ass, or at least try.

The doors open and I’m dragged slowly out. I keep myself limp until I hear him swipe a card, followed by the click of the door. I throw my head back and am rewarded with a resounding crack as it smashes against his nose. His arms uncoil from my body to grab his face, and I fall to the floor.

“You fucking bitch!”

Scrambling backwards as quickly as I can, I stop when my back hits a wall. I brace myself to fight as he stalks towards me—I don’t want him to get me into that room. He looks even more menacing than he did downstairs, with blood gushing from his nose. The emergency exit door silently opens behind Martin, and I see Creed slip through, followed by Chester, who holds his finger against his lips.

“Please don’t hurt me,” I beg, holding my hands up in a pleading manner.

Martin smiles and grabs his cock, making me want to puke. “Oh, I’m going to hurt you, little girl.”

He grabs my hair and lifts me to my feet. I hold in a whimper as the action rips a few chunks of hair from my head. Once I’m upright, my body starts to involuntarily shake; I haven’t been in a position like this for a while.

Creed sneaks up behind Martin and throws his arm around his neck, holding him in a headlock. Chester stalks around the three of us, moving to stand in front of me. Creed tightens his arm, causing Martin to let go of my hair and reach up to claw at his arm to get him off.

I rush forward, throwing myself into Chester’s body. He wraps his arms around me as I bury my face into his chest, breathing in his comforting bourbon scent.

“Who the fuck are you?” Martin seethes, Creed giving him enough air to speak.

“Your worst fucking nightmare. You think you can drug my girl and live to see another day?” Chester snaps, moving me behind him protectively and throwing a punch into Martin’s stomach.

Creed drags Martin towards the open door, and I watch on in awe.

“Tenshi, go downstairs and wait with the others. We won’t be long.”

Martin kicks and screams, but it’s no use as he is pulled into the room. The thud of the door echoes through the hallway as it’s slammed, but I can’t seem to make myself move. I stare at the door, wondering what is going on behind it.

Tiptoeing to the door, I press my ear against the wood to see if I can hear anything, which I can’t. Noticing the key card on the floor, I bend down and pick it up, gritting my teeth as I slip it into the key slot and it beeps, flashing a green light. I slowly crack it open. Chester and Creed have their backs to me with Martin pressed against a wall. Chester’s holding him by the neck, arm outstretched.

“You were not supposed to die yet, but no one tries to hurt my Little Angel and lives to tell the story.”

Martin’s eyes bulge and his lips turn a weird shade of blue. I should push the door open wider and stop them, but men like Martin need to be eradicated, like the rabid animals they are. How many poor girls have fallen victim to this man, their bodies used and abused for a sicko’s pleasure?

When Martin passes out, Chester lets go of him and Creed pulls out some cable ties from his pocket. What sort of deranged madman carries cable ties? Creed, that’s who. I lean a little further into the space to get a better view. The door creaks and both of their heads whip my way. With my cover blown, I push the door open wider and step into the room.

“Is he dead?” I ask, closing the door.

“No, just taking a nap. He’s coming for a ride with us, then I have some nice tools that will make him more willing to tell us what we need to know since this mission didn’t go as planned.”

“We need to pack everything up in this room ASAP. Jolie, grab his bags and start checking the room. There can’t be any evidence left behind. Kai is going to loop the security cameras, so we have approximately ten minutes,” Chester says without a care in the world, as if he didn’t just strangle a man.

I do what I’ve been asked, packing all of Martin’s clothes and toiletries, checking every closet and even under the bed. Everything that belongs to this man is packed and ready to go within minutes.

It’s then that I realise I lost my earpiece. “I lost my ear thingy,” I say to no one in particular.

“Don’t worry about it,” Brennan says from behind me, making me jump. How the fuck did he get in here without me hearing him? “It can’t be traced back to us. Let’s get out of here.”

Brennan grabs all the bags, and Creed helps Chester throw Martin over his shoulder. I open the door and pop my head out, looking both ways to make sure the coast is clear.

Chester is the last one out the door, and Martin’s head hits the door frame. “Oh, that’s going to leave a mark.” He snickers and Creed snorts.

“That is going to be the least of his worries when he wakes up in the morgue strapped to the table. It’s been a while since I heard a man squeal for his life.”

We take the service entrance out of the building, straight into the back alley. All of us pile into the van, Chester unceremoniously dropping Martin onto the floor with a thud.

“Mr Z is going to be pissed,” Trace mutters from the driver’s seat as he puts it into gear and takes off.

“Let me handle him,” I reply. “He needs me for whatever he has planned, and we can test how easy he is willing to go on me.”

“You want to hope he decides to go easy on you. The consequences for fucking up really suck,” Kai says from the back.

“What does he do?”

“Usually, it’s twenty-four hours at the facility. There are no breaks, showers, or sleep, and just when your body can’t take any more, he likes to give your abilities a test to see how far he can push them.”

“Well, let’s hope he’s in a forgiving mood.”

With that, we drive back to the house in silence, the reality of my future hitting me hard and exhaustion sinking in. This is my life now. I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the thrill of having an assignment. Mr Z still needs to die—he is too power hungry—but maybe I might want to stick around. After all, this is why I was created.