Page 10

Chapter Ten

Sutton

User1873: I want a private video. Name your price.

I stared at the chat window and then tossed my phone onto the bed and strolled into the bathroom.

Cool your jets, User1873.

The way Wild Side worked, content creators had custom user names, but viewers were designated generic ones to help maintain anonymity of the clientele.

For the last three nights, I’d explored the depths of the app. Posting provocative photos and then a pre-recorded video last night of me in the bathroom, my back facing the mirror. For the camera, I dropped the emerald green robe, letting viewers see me in nothing but my scorpion tattoo and a stringy black thong.

From what I could tell, it was the same path Mara had taken when she signed up for the app. I went through her profile with a fine-tooth comb, noting first the photos that were uploaded, followed by a couple videos, and after that, nothing.

It wasn’t long between her last video and the night she’d gone with Jack to the White Pearl, but I had a feeling whatever other content she’d created had been for private viewing.

Just like every other app on the planet, users could interact with the posted content but could also direct message the creators. Once a message was accepted, private photos and videos could be paywalled and exchanged.

That had to be how someone found her—someone who wanted more than a private video.

I flipped my head over, running my fingers through my hair to give it some back. When I straightened and looked in the mirror, it had that tossed, sultry look to it.

My posts had mimicked Mara’s. Looks. Poses. Attire—or lack of it. Whatever drew this fucker to her, I wanted to cast the same net to lure him to me.

Of course, there were other ways to get answers. Breaking into the White Pearl. Trying to find someone who would know what happened, and if I were able to find that someone, manage to get them into a position where I could threaten them without putting myself at risk.

It was a lot of ifs and a lot of time—time I couldn’t afford to waste.

But this…if signing up for Wild Side could attract the same man who’d taken Mara deeper into the Triad fold, it was by far the easiest route.

I rested my hands on either side of the sink, lifting my chin a little and examining the column of my throat down to my bare chest. Twin Scorpio constellations dotted out from my sternum like celestial skeletons framing under the curve of each breast.

I wondered what Tynan would think if he saw them in full. What he would say. What kind of growl he would make.

I shivered and straightened, my nipples hardening against the green robe that draped loosely over my shoulders. I hadn’t even bothered to knot it in front of me, so it gaped wide, the edges catching on my piercings.

I picked up my phone again, knowing it was always better to leave pervs like this hanging for a few minutes before responding. Made them more willing to tell me what I wanted to know.

And what would you like me to do in this video for you?

I replied to User1873.

No sooner had I hit send when another message popped into my inbox.

User923X.

Interesting . I’d never come across someone with the ‘X’ designation at the end.

I tapped to view his profile statistics before accepting the message. He’d never liked or commented on a single photo or video, but he’d been a member for several years.

So he was a creeper who only watched and then messaged girls privately. Perfect.

There was a slight pinch in my stomach when I opened the message, like the prick of a needle before it drew blood.

User923X: Did you enjoy the pain of getting your tattoos and piercings done?

Not what I was expecting, but I could roll with it.

I sat on the edge of the bed and tapped out a reply.

It made me feel alive.

User923X: The things I would do to you before fucking you would pale in comparison.

A chill raked over me. This guy wasn’t as overtly seedy as all of the other messages I’d received; many of them jumping straight into a request for a photo of my pussy or a video of my feet.

I guess it’s too bad then that you’re not here to show me.

User923X: Yes, it is.

A defeated sigh bled from my lips at his reply, expecting…something more than confirmation.

I waited another second before leaving the message window, unsure why I’d gotten the feeling in my stomach that this guy was…important. Connected to Mara’s disappearance.

Annoyed at the feeling of hope that suddenly died, I flipped back to camera mode and grabbed my single ivory-handled knife. Irritation pricked at me like a bee sting, knowing the mate was probably still left in that dirty alleyway covered in Kang’s blood.

Holding my phone in front of me, I positioned the tip of the knife near the pinchers of the small scorpion curling under my right breast. Inspired by the fruitless conversation, I let the tip of the knife sting my skin, drawing a dot of blood. I tapped the shutter button, capturing the wound under my bare breast with just a hint of my nipple piercing showing.

I captioned the image: Made for those who like a bite.

Not even thirty seconds after the image was posted, my message box lit up with a new message.

User923X: What is the wasp for?

Again, he surprised me with what he was focused on, though I wasn’t surprised at all he didn’t catch its significance. He was one of many who made the wasp significant in the first place.

I prefer creatures who have a violent sting.

User923X: You’re not the only one.

Another thing we have in common.

User923X: Not me. Another woman I met on here also had a wasp tattoo.

Mara .

I practically collapsed on the bed, relief thundering through me like a freight train. I was right about him. He did know Mara. Whether he was involved in her disappearance though was another thing.

User923X: I prefer creatures who think they like the taste of violence.

Think?

User923X: They don’t know until they meet me.

I inhaled deep, tapping out my next message carefully, and then held my breath as it sent.

And did this other woman get to find out?

It wasn’t until my heart pounded heavy against my chest, like a fist trying to slam through water, that I realized I’d held my breath for too long waiting for his answer.

But I couldn’t give up the conversation. Not now that I had confirmation he’d contacted Mara.

My teeth pinched my bottom lip.

Perhaps we could find out together. A group punishment.

If tits weren’t the way to scramble a man’s brain, then the suggestion of a threesome or at least some girl-on-girl action was.

User923X: Send me a live video of yourself.

Where’s the fun in that now that you’ve got me all worked up?

I stretched and clenched my palm over and over, waiting for his reply.

User923X: There is no fun. Not yet. I need to see your body first. I need to know it’s the same as the photos.

My throat tightened.

He sent another message before I could reply.

User923X: Start facing front and slowly turn until your back is at the camera. Then I want you to bend forward onto a bed or any surface and let me see your tight asshole. Count to three. Then, you will straighten again and return to facing forward. Sit down again and spread your thighs, so I can see your full cunt. Again, three seconds before you close your legs and stand again.

My eyebrows rose at the almost mechanical request like I was some car on an assembly line and he was responsible for the final inspection before I was able to be…used.

And then?

I wanted to know what happened after I prostrated myself on camera like sexual chattel for him.

User923X: If you are acceptable, then I’ll bring you to me and enlighten you on the definition of pain.

Acid bubbled in my throat.

The idea of rougher sex appealed to me, but not the way he alluded. User923X was a sadistic fuck. I knew it in my bones as sure as I knew the sky was blue.

Engage the enemy with what they expect; it is what they are able to discern and confirms their projections. It settles them into predictable patterns of response, occupying their minds while you wait for the extraordinary moment — that which they cannot anticipate.

The art of my modern, personal war was a little different than Sun Tzu would’ve ever imagined, but the tactical beauty of his teachings remained just as valuable.

I can’t wait.

I gave User923X what he wanted: a willing victim.

After sending the message, I dragged the chair out from the corner of the room and propped my phone against it. I tapped on the “Live” button, knowing it activated the camera so I could make sure the frame was lined up the way I wanted before broadcasting.

It wasn’t high enough.

I thought for a second before striding to the closet and digging into my duffel on the floor, finding my worn copy of The Art of War buried at the bottom.

The book had been a gift from Dad for my ninth birthday, codifying so many phrases I’d heard over the years. That was the last birthday he was home for, and he and Mom fought most of the day about the gift anyway. She didn’t want to accept who I was becoming—how I was becoming like him. She tried to ignore all the martial arts classes and how I picked fights at school.

She thought it was a phase, just like she thought Dad continuing to leave was a phase. She could never accept that this was who he was, the very pit of his soul formed from the fire to fight for his country, and that was what destroyed her in the end.

Or at least, it was the thing that sent her into the arms of the man who destroyed her.

I shoved the book under my phone, satisfied with the angle of the camera now.

Backing up, I rolled my shoulders, the robe sliding off them like a snake shedding its skin. The cool air licked over my bare skin as I shimmied out of my thong.

Uncurling my spine, I looked at the camera again, completely naked in the frame.

A small smile turned my lips, feeling like the scorpion about to strike.

I strode back to my phone and opened the music app. He hadn’t said anything about sound, so I picked a song by The Used, the older punk emo igniting vigilante rebellion in my blood.

This man wanted to make sure my body would make good prey. Little did he realize that my body—my beauty—was nothing more than bait. I didn’t care how violent his bite was. In the end, he would be the one strangled on the end of the line.

The music pulsed around me, making it seem like even the floor vibrated with the riotous beat.

I filled my lungs with oxygen and drew a serene expression to my face—a mask if ever there was one.

The whole secret lies in confusing the enemy, so that he cannot fathom our real intent.

Letting a few strands of hair cascade over my shoulders, I blinked slowly one last time.

I’m coming, Mara.

And then I hit the record button to start the live.

The giant right dot flashed like the scope of a rifle, harmless and ominous in equal measure.

Keeping my chin lifted, I backpedaled until I was close to the bed. My feet rooted for a second, and I stared at the screen like I could see the man on the other side.

I’m coming for you, too.

And then I turned as he instructed. Counterclockwise, I watched the bedroom filter through my view. The empty closet, my bag and clothes still tussled on the floor. The door to the hallway. If Tynan were on the other side—if he knew?—

No, I couldn’t think about him now.

Swallowing through the tightness in my throat, I continued to turn, allowing my eyes to blink only once I knew the camera couldn’t see them anymore.

My pulse stomped in my ears. Heavy, thundering footfalls of adrenaline chasing fear from my blood.

I faced the bed just as the music screamed from behind me, the words twisting and turning into something that fit my own story.

Take my body. Take my knife.

Rage cooled my flesh as I bent forward, my hands outstretched and waiting for the kiss of the comforter to my fingertips.

My back angled harsher and harsher until my ass was prone to the view of the camera.

It wasn’t just my ass he was seeing, but hell, I’d let him see the whole of my black soul if it meant getting Mara back.

One. I breathed out.

Two. I breathed in.

Three—BANG!

The door slammed open, and my head jerked.

Tynan.

My eyes went wide, staring at a man who looked once more like Zeus robed in wrath, lightning bolting from the fury in his stare and thunder cracking with each of his breaths.

My first thought was that he was enraged before he got here—before he opened the door. And now…

Now he was something beyond that.

“What the fuck?—”

The sound of his voice broke my trance, and I remembered what I was doing before he’d come—and who I was doing it for.

Fuck .

I spun and lunged for my phone. I had to end the stream—end the content before?—

I managed to stop the recording before my cell was speared from my hands.

“Hey, that’s mine?—”

“Not fucking anymore.” His eyes zipped over the screen. “What the fuck is this? What the fuck are you doing?”

I blanched. I was saving my best friend. Or had been until he ruined everything.

“None of your fucking business,” I charged, snatching the robe off the floor even though I made no move to put it on. “Who the fuck do you think you are just barging into my room?—”

“The one trying to protect you. Now what. The. Fuck. Is. This.” He punctuated each part of the question like the words were bullets fired from the chamber of his throat.

He lifted my phone up, the screen showing my profile on the app.

The chat was gone. Messages gone. My only lead on Mara—vanished.

I jutted my chin forward, fighting the sting of tears in my eyes. “How I like to spend all my free time,” I answered, my voice dripping with disdain. I launched my arm out to try to snatch it back, but he pulled away too quickly.

“Bullshit.” He stepped closer to me.

“Give me my phone back.” I was seething, anger and lust rioting a storm in my chest.

“Not until I get the truth.” His lip twitched like a hungry beast. “I know you lied to me about what Kang told you. I want the whole fucking truth, and I want it now.”

My eyelids fluttered, and I let my tongue take a swipe over my bottom lip. “Or what?”

“Or I give you that ass whooping I promised,” he rasped, his voice curled with his snarl, but his eyes told a different story. Like two buoys trying to stay afloat when they wanted nothing more than to sink over my bare skin and drown in my naked depths.

“You don’t have the guts.” I shouldn’t provoke him, but I couldn’t help it. Not when the energy in the room had changed so drastically.

Yes, there was anger and frustration laid like a minefield of firecrackers around us, but it was the tension—the sexual undercurrent laid between us like a foundation of C4. Sooner or later, one of those sparks was going to send this whole moment up in smoke.

I couldn’t help but notice the stark difference in Tynan’s threat to manhandle me compared to the masochistic mistreatment User923X promised. Those messages made my blood run cold, but Tynan’s rough, hot words spread like magma through my limbs, bringing me a kind of painful ache that didn’t even require a physical touch.

I’d never felt anything like it before. Childhood crushes and a few stolen high school kisses had been nothing. Training wheels on the evolution of passion. And then came Randy, and with him, that distinct erotic longing became tangled and tainted by trauma.

“Try me,” he muttered, his mouth hovering hardly an inch from mine.

It would take nothing to lift up on my toes and press my lips to his. They looked so firm right now. So punishing. I wondered if that was how they’d feel on my mouth…on my body.

My phone screen dimmed just then, and I recalled everything those lips had just made me lose.

“You ruined everything,” I murmured, finding his curious eyes and creased brow for only a second before I let my fist fly.

With one hand, I punched Tynan in the side, his stomach hard but unsuspecting, and then grabbed my phone with my other.

He grunted in pain, and the nanosecond of distraction was something I could work with.

I lunged to the side to dart around him as though running from my overprotective guardian had ever proved to be the answer.