Page 9

Gabriel

Mark Jackson is being dealt with in a manner that will no doubt send out a message to the rest of the members.

I know that it’s not routine for me to be involved in the dealings with incidents, but having two within less than a week, something needs to change.

Jackson is taken to an abandoned warehouse on the other side of town.

It’s a place that is used by homeless people and drug addicts, the police tend to give it a wide berth unless absolutely necessary.

We had the basement locked down a couple of years back so that we could use it at times like this.

It’s a large open space with metal studs and framing, which are effective for restraining people.

It’s cold, smells like metallic and the floor has numerous dark patches from the blood that has been spilled here.

Anders had Jackson’s hands secured together and used them so that he hangs from one of the ceiling beams.

He was informed of his indiscretions and was begging for forgiveness when the first punch landed over his kidney.

I sat back and watched as he realised that he wouldn’t be leaving this room.

Anders appeared to enjoy using him as a punching bag and by the time he took a step away and cleaned his hands, Jackson was spitting blood and switched from begging to spewing profanities at us.

I stand, step towards him, and grip his chin forcing him to look me in the eyes making sure that I’m the last person he will ever see.

I raise my blade to his throat, still holding his chin I push the tip of it into his skin just below his jugular so that he doesn’t instantly bleed out.

Keeping the pressure on I slide it across his neck, dark crimson blood spills from him as he gurgles and chokes, slowly dying.

Still keeping hold of his chin, I watch the life drain from his eyes, giving him a wink as he dies.

His body hangs limp, lifeless like a pig in a slaughterhouse.

I have never had an issue with violence or taking another man’s life, it raises no emotions in me.

I’m back at my apartment getting cleaned up, thankful that David and Anders managed to have it fixed up quickly after the incident since work has started on the house today.

Anger is still reeling through my body, and I am ready for the welcome distraction that tonight is going to be.

I’ve booked a table at a place that’s about a half hour’s drive away, somewhere that members from The Sicuro wouldn’t routinely turn up at.

I don’t want people to know about her.

Not yet.

I get ready quickly knowing that I need to go to the office before I pick her up.

I don’t bother going into the bar when I get there and go straight upstairs.

Anders has already made it back after dealing with the body and is sitting on the couch.

“Boss, there’s some things that need to be taken care of.”

“Take care of them then.”

“What do you want done with Jackson’s apartment complex?”

Fuck! I forgot about those, now that he has been disposed of these will fall to me as payment for his outstanding debt.

I ask how many there are.

He informs me that he only had one finished, it holds three, 2-bedroom apartments.

He was starting to take over another one, but the contracts weren’t completed.

I tell Anders that I will look into it later.

I have better things to do with my time.

I pour a whisky and finish off some outstanding work.

I’m in the car on the way to pick her up when my phone rings.

“Boss, are you sure about this? She’s an outstanding worker and one of the few loyal ones.”

“Anders, don’t overstep your mark.”

“Understood.”

He hangs up.

I know he’s doing what he thinks is best for me and for her.

If it’s just a fuck I want, then there are plenty of women that could give me that without affecting The Sicuro.

If it is, and I fuck her she can’t continue working there.

She would get a hefty pay slip and be sent on her way.

It’s not like me to interfere with the staff, but something is pulling me to her, an uncontrollable desire, and I can’t resist it.

It’s bang on eight when I knock on her door.

As she opens it my eyes trail from her feet upwards, her leg is slightly placed out of the split that reaches her knee.

I continue up and reach her pert tits, my lips open slightly and by the time I am looking in her eyes, I have already thought about her legs being wrapped around my neck whilst I devour her.

Her hair is down, framing her face.

“Is this suitable for where we are going?”

“More than suitable.

You look outstanding.

This way.”

“I just need to grab my purse.”

She steps back into her home, my eyes fixate on her arse, images of it bent over my bed enter my mind as she’s stepping back out, she pulls her door closed behind her.

I place my hand on her lower back, slightly lower than normal, my fingers resting on the top of her arse.

I open the car door, hold out my hand for her, and she goes to get in without taking it.

“Kelcie.”

Her name leaves my mouth laced with a hint of anger.

Today’s events still cursing in my veins.

She stops, looks at me, and then gently places her hand in mine, it’s soft and delicate.

She gets in, I close the door and walk around to get in beside her and I can feel the blood rushing to my dick already.

“Where are we going?”

“Dinner.”

“Is it a long drive?”

“No.”

My responses are blunt, anger still present in my body.

“Not a talker then.

Dinner should be fun.”

“What would you like to talk about Kelcie?”

“I can’t imagine that we watch the same shows, so that’s out the window.

I also can’t imagine that we have much in common.”

She has a point, but I don’t want to sit and watch TV with her, I want to run my hands over every inch of her body and make her moan in pleasure as I take her as mine.

“Do you know what I like?”

I ask her, already knowing the answer.

She doesn’t, but no one other than Anders really knows anything about me.

I am sure that today’s incident in the bar has made her imagination run wild.

“No.”

“You will.”

We pull up at the restaurant and I am happy that she has accepted that she doesn’t get in or out of the car without me opening the door, or that I prefer her taking my hand when I offer it.

We walk towards the entrance, and I do a quick scan of the place whilst opening the door, I gesture to let her know to walk through.

The host greets us with a smile.

I inform her of our 8.30pm reservation and she reviews the computer in front of her.

“Arh Mr...”

She cuts herself off before I can.

“Gabriel” she finishes.

I called the owner when I made the booking, he knew my grandfather, he wasn’t a member of the bar just a friend.

When I explained that I was taking a woman on a date and she doesn’t know who I am, well not yet anyway he understood and said that he would ensure that my surname wasn’t used throughout the evening.

We are taken to our table which is tucked out of the way with no other tables close by, it’s intimate and inviting.

“Could I get you something to drink Sir?”

“We will have a bottle of the Edmond Vatan Sancerre.”

“Sir.”

The server acknowledges my order and walks away to prepare the wine.

“Do I get to choose what I would like to drink?”

Kelcie asks keeping her eyes locked on mine.

I tell her it’s a nice bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and that she will like it.

“I don’t have a menu.”

She tries to keep her voice from shaking.

“You don’t need one, I will order for you.”

I can see by her body language that she isn’t impressed with my response.

“No, you won’t.

I would like a menu so that I can choose what I would like to eat.”

She emphasised the word I each time.

I smile and hand my menu to her.

The server returns with the wine and pours me a taste, I give an approving nod that it’s acceptable.

She serves Kelcie and then me.

After placing the bottle into the wine bucket, she asks for our order.

I inform her that I will have the steak medium rare.

She then looks over to Kelcie for her order.

She looks up at her, but no words are spoken as if shock has slowly taken over her body.

“She will have the same, but no garlic butter.”

The server nods and walks away.

“How do you know that I wouldn’t want garlic butter?”

The curiosity present in her expression.

“I know pretty much everything about you.”

Her brow furrows.

“You’ve been at The Sicuro for the last six months, you work most days.

No boyfriend, you don’t go out clubbing like most 22-year-olds and prefer to stay home with a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc.

You run occasionally, and the only place that you regularly visit is the gym.”

“What the fuck? Are you stalking me?”

“No.

I am just careful about who I spend my time with.”

“So do I get to know anything about you?”

“What do you want to know?”

“What is it that you do?’ The inquisitiveness is back on her face.

“I run an assistant start-up company, helping businesses get off the ground.”

It’s not a lie, it’s exactly what I do, alongside owning The Sicuro.

“Any family?”

“Not anymore.”

Her eyebrows tighten and I can see the empathy in her eyes.

The conversation doesn’t seem to want to flow, which I know is down to me and my short closed-off answers.

I find us sitting in what I can see she feels is like long stretches of silence.

I can’t take my eyes off her, the way the dress hugs every curve, the way her slightly erect nipples are noticeable.

Fuck, I want them in my mouth.

“What do you want from me Gabriel?”

The way she says my name makes me want to hear her scream it.

I want it to pass her lips in pleasure, in between moans, breathless and euphoric.

The thought makes my dick twitch and the blood rush to it.

“You know what I want.”

Her breathing deepens, the dress allowing me to see the rise and fall of her chest, her tits asking to be caressed, and her nipples have completely hardened.

Her eyes locked on my face waiting for me to look her back in her eyes. I do.

“Tell me.”

Her words are confident and strong, her eyes never leaving mine.

“You.

I want you.

And just so you’re aware, I will have you, every part of you.”

My words almost growled out, the fire in the pit of my stomach starting to blaze as I tell her I’m going to have her.