Page 4 of Murder & Mayhem (Bloody Desires #9)

DOMINIC

“ I swear, Nicky, you better not give me any crap the next time one of my jobs doesn’t go as planned.” Gideon laughed in my ear.

“Fuck off,” I grumbled.

Jameson’s eyes widened, and I realized he thought I was talking to him. “What?”

“Oh shit, not you. My dumbass brother.” I tapped the earbud.

“Right. Sorry.” Jameson tightened his arms around his chest. He looked so small and young and vulnerable, and all these protective instincts that typically only came to the surface for my brothers were rearing their ugly heads.

“Nothing to apologize for.” I turned from the young man before I gave in to my intrusive thoughts to wrap him in my arms and never let go. “So normally, I’d check the house before getting this far. But shit happens. I’m assuming you confirmed Bailey’s not here? ”

“Y-yeah. I did that before I woke Joey up.”

I nodded, pleased. He was in over his head, but at least Jameson was thinking somewhat clearly. I glanced over my shoulder at him. “Is there something we could fill with water? A large bowl or something?” I asked him as I threw my backpack onto the old couch and started to dig through it.

Jameson didn’t answer for so long that I turned around to see what was wrong. The visions of him having a panic attack were firmly ingrained in my mind and I didn’t want him to spiral again.

He wasn’t panicking, but he was staring at me. “Oh! You were talking to me.” Then he flinched and took a step farther away from me.

I smiled, trying to look as unthreatening as possible. I had no idea if it worked, but the last thing I wanted to do was hurt him. I gave him an encouraging nod.

“Um, yeah, there’s probably something. I’ll, um, go look.”

He booked it out of the room, going the long way so he didn’t have to get close to me. I sighed heavily and finally found the electrical cords that I was looking for in the bag and pulled them out, along with rope.

Gid laughed in my ear again. “Fuck, Nicky, you already got it bad. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Shut up. He’s a child.”

“Nineteen, actually,” Ari cut in matter-of-factly. “Almost twenty.”

“Shit, really?” He looked so much younger, but I seriously doubted that proper nutrition had been high on Byrne’s list when he’d had the boy.

“Are you really going to help him?” Gideon asked, serious for once in his life.

“It’s a bad idea, Nicky,” Ari added.

I knew that. But I also didn’t have a choice. “Well, what the fuck do you want me to do?” I whispered, though I was sure Jameson could hear me. He was banging cabinets in the next room, probably trying to listen in to my conversation. “If you were here, you would’ve done the same thing.”

Neither of them bothered to deny it. “It’s dangerous. We have no idea if you can trust him.”

“He just wants to find his brother, Ari. You know what it’s like to feel helpless like this. I’m not walking away.”

I couldn’t explain it, not like this anyway, but as soon as Jameson had started to have an anxiety attack because of that fucker, a switch in my head had flipped and I’d known there was no fucking chance of me walking away, at least until I helped him.

Fuck, maybe ever. It had brought back every memory of huddling on the narrow twin bed in our foster father’s house, the three of us wrapped around each other as we comforted Ari through his nightmares and fears.

I glanced over at Joey. He was still knocked out on his fucking recliner, but that would end soon. The water was running now, so I got everything ready. The asshole was about to get a rude awakening.

Over the comms, Ari sighed heavily. “Fiiine. If you’re helping him, I’ll see what I can find out about him and his brother.”

“Thanks, Ari,” I told him sincerely. I laid out the electrical cords on the couch and then picked up the rope, walking over to Joey. The fucker didn’t even stir as I began to secure him to the chair.

“Mmmm,” was the only response I got from my brother. The man was a big conversationalist, clearly.

Once Joey was tied up, I stepped back to admire my handiwork.

I loved ropes. You could get so much more creative with them than metal cuffs.

Besides, they were easier to burn when destroying evidence.

I grabbed the tarp on the bottom of my bag and laid it out on the floor.

The recliner would have to go, but the less evidence I had to clean up, the better.

Typically, I left none. The easiest way to keep cops off your ass?

Make the deaths look like accidents. Heart attacks, candles left burning while passed out drunk, heroin addicts overdosing, the authorities never looked twice at that.

Sometimes, though, you had to make exceptions.

Finally, Jameson came back holding a pot filled with water. He kept his eyes pointedly on me, careful not to look over at his stepfather. Not that I blamed him.

“I hope this is okay?” he asked nervously. “It was all I could find.”

A metal pot? Even better. “That’s perfect. Thanks, Jameson.”

“You can call me Jamie,” he told me, his voice quiet but steady and a strange expression on his face. “All Jameson does is remind me that my mom cared more about alcohol than me.”

I snorted. “Fair. Then, thanks, Jamie.”

He flashed me a smile. It was small but genuine and had me falling even deeper into the hold of this young man.

I got a better look at him finally, now that the immediate dangers were over.

Everything about him screamed vulnerability, but on top of that soft interior were layers and layers of strength.

You had to be tough to go through the shit he had gone through.

I hadn’t watched all the tapes that Ari had uncovered in this house of horrors, but I’d seen enough to confidently call it that, and Jamie and his brother had been featured prominently in a lot of them.

It had started when he’d been extremely young with recordings going until very recently.

I took the pot of water from him with a grateful smile, and his sage-green eyes met mine.

Such sad eyes on a man so young. It made me want to slow down the torture on this fucker.

I wished I had hours with him, but it wasn’t feasible.

Especially with Bailey missing. At this point, he was the priority.

Squatting down in front of Joey, I removed his nasty ass socks and positioned him so his feet were settled in the water.

Byrne still didn’t stir. I must’ve done a number on him when I’d knocked him out.

I hadn’t meant to hit him so hard, but seeing Jamie’s reaction had sparked something inside me and I’d lost control.

Only for a moment though, before I’d been able to rein it in.

I hadn’t lost my tight hold on myself in years, and I had no intention of starting now.

I could feel Jamie’s eyes on me as I grabbed the cords. “Shit, I forgot scissors. Can you grab them for me? They’re in the front pocket of the bag.”

“Oh, um, sure.” Jamie shook his head like he was coming out of a trance and then hurried to my bag.

“Make the kid your accomplice. Smart. So he can’t rat on you,” Gideon unnecessarily added.

“Fucking Christ, do you ever shut up?” Ari grumbled, causing me to smile.

“No,” Both Gid and I said in unison.

Jamie handed me the scissors. “Thanks,” I muttered, already focused on Joey.

“This might get a little messy. If you want to wait in another room, you can.”

“This is such a bad idea, Nicky,” Ari reminded me.

“Pretty sure you said that already,” I muttered.

“Well, I want it to be on record when this all smacks you in the face that I told you so.” I rolled my eyes and focused on Jamie.

I knew I was being reckless, but I also knew that if either of my brothers were here, they’d be reacting the same way.

I couldn’t explain it, but Jamie wasn’t a threat to me.

He wasn’t going to turn me into the authorities or anywhere else.

There was something in his eyes, in the way that he’d kept that gun trained on Joey’s chest even as he’d shaken with fear.

Finding his brother was the only thing he cared about, and he was willing to do whatever it took.

Jamie shook his head, his messy hair falling into his face. “No. I want to watch.” There was strength to his words even as he wrapped his arms around himself and slumped even further into his oversized hoodie. His green eyes never left mine.

“Good boy.”

The words slipped out unbidden. They had a few times during his panic attack too, but I didn’t think he’d noticed then. He did now, his eyes widening and his pupils expanding at the praise. Jamie’s lips parted, and I swore to fuck I heard the quietest of whimpers before he got it together.

For a moment, I couldn’t move, completely fixated on those chapped lips as they quivered slightly. His bottom lip was poutier than the top and I wanted to take it between my teeth, leave my marks on his skin . . .

Which was all kinds of fucked up. Get it together, Nick. Focus on torturing the pedophile, not on defiling the sweet boy .

It took effort, but I managed to turn away from Jamie. Mainly because my annoying ass brothers were needling me.

“You’re being ballsy behind the protection of distance,” I told them. “But I have a long memory.”

Gideon only laughed. The little fucking shit.

Ari only grumbled, “Can you get this over with already?”

“Yeah, yeah. Spoilsport.”

I glanced at Jamie, who was watching me with fascination. “Last chance to leave.”

He shook his head.

“Alright.”

I cut off Joey’s stained T-shirt and then shoved it in his mouth. He would need to be able to talk later, but things might get loud. Then I hooked the clamps of one of the wires to his nipple before letting one dangle into the water.

I jumped back just in time and watched with unbridled glee as the electrical current traveled from the water and through the clamp around Byrne’s nipple.