Lyra Parish - Weak Without Him

"Gentlemen," I said coolly. I wasn't intimidated by them, especially not after dealing with men worse than them for half of my life. I knew the gangsters on the other side of the spectrum, and they knew me. We agreed to stay out of each other's way, which we did easily, but they owed me, and it was time to pay. If I hadn't bailed their boss out of jail, they wouldn't be where they were today. After saving their asses more times than I could count, they agreed to stay underground and away from me and The Elite. With that, I agreed to leave them the hell alone. Money talked. Always had and always would. Luckily, I had enough to have conversations for days.

The two guys didn't respond, but I didn't expect them to. I pulled the photo of Jennifer, the one that was in her Elite file, from the inside of my coat pocket and slid it to my right. He picked it up and narrowed his eyes, then handed it to his buddy. I continued to look forward and sipped my drink calmly, though my insides blazed with a need-to-know so strong that it almost made me sick. One thing I was good at: poker face.

The man beside me sucked in a deep breath and scooted the picture back to me. I placed it inside my coat pocket. It had been with me since I came home.

"I've seen her," he said.

My breath hitched in my chest, and that's when the violent rage almost consumed me. I had to count to ten, fucking twenty, to calm down and evaluate the situation.

When I was a teen, heavily involved with the gangs of London, I almost killed a group of men with my bare hands after losing control. A screaming girl in a dark alley stopped me in my tracks. Four sick fucks had kidnapped and proceeded to have their way with her, but I caught them with their pants down before they could do any damage. I beat the lot of them to a pulp and left them for dead. A piece of me wanted to burn them alive for being the bottom-feeders of the city, but I didn't. Instead, I told them if they ever fucking touched or kidnapped another person, I would hunt them down, chop off each of their dicks, then proceed to shove them down each of their throats, one by one, as they watched each other choke. To this day, Abbot watched them. Those men never tried anything like that again, and if they did, a sharp knife would be waiting for them.

The unstoppable force I slowly transformed into in London was not the person I wanted to be. That wasn't the life I wanted to lead: always watching my back, fighting for my rights, and killing. I was intelligent, practical, talented, and I had street smarts. Don't get me wrong, I was still unstoppable, but I didn't want to be known as a fucking murderer. Monsters didn't care or have a conscience. I was different.

I needed a change from it all, and Columbia had offered me a full scholarship. It helped that my father was an alumnus. The Felton name became a free pass, almost. Columbia kicked my ass, made me into the businessman I was, and for that, I would forever be grateful.

I finished my drink and so did they. They waited for me to speak though very little would be said between us.

"She’s alive. Make sure she stays that way." I didn’t say it as a question, but as more of a conviction. I knew her heart still beat, and that would keep me temporarily satisfied. If any woman could be slung through the mud and make it out alive, breathing and snarling, it would be her. I hoped she wasn't giving them to much hell, but a little piece of me knew she was. If she acted out too much, Jennifer would get hurt. I couldn't have that. Fucking firecracker.

The leader nodded his head, and I wanted nothing more than to demand he bring me to her, but that's not how deals like these worked. I knew that. Instead, I continued to stay disinterested in them, and the whole conversation, and they returned the gesture.

After they finished their drinks, they swiveled from their stools and stalked out the front door. Although I contemplated following them, it would have done me no good. They could be trusted, especially considering the amount of favors that were owed to me. If they fucked this up, the two of them would be dead, and not by my hands, but by their boss.

Finnley fucking Felton meant something underground. I was not to be toyed with, and even though I wasn't a murderer, they all knew that I would kill and take every single one of them down to get what I wanted. In less than a month, I could have half of the gang of London here to battle it out with these fucks, and they knew it. Plus, I had the money to fund the escapade. My background was on a need to know basis, and all the mob bosses, drug lords, and slave drivers knew what I was capable of, which gave me and my business an unlimited number of get-the-fuck-out-of-my-way passes.

No, they would keep their end of the deal, but if they crossed me… if they fucking crossed me, all I would have to do was make one phone call and all hell would break loose.

My mouth dropped open when I saw blond hair.

"Surprise. What? You thought Luke brilliantly crafted all of this? Think a-fucking-gain." Jesse stared at me with so much hate in her eyes I thought I might die. Before I could say a word, she pushed Luke away and came at me. With both hands wrapped firmly around my neck, Jesse slammed my body powerfully into the wall. I tried to push her away, but she kept coming back for more. The rumble in her throat, the vengeance in her eyes, and the animosity in her grasp… I knew who was in charge of my kidnapping, and it wasn't Luke.

The minions entered and broke Jesse off of me. They jerked me by my arms and bound my hands behind my back. They pushed me to the bed and secured me to the metal bed frame with handcuffs. Jesse pulled a gag from her back pocket and forced it into my mouth.

"Now," she said. "It's time we clear up a few of your stupid little misconceptions. I've been watching you since Finnley met you in the Bellagio. I'm always watching him."

My eyes narrowed on her.

"Then when he first mentioned you working for The Elite, I knew you were fucking trouble. I wanted you out of Vegas. I slashed your tire so you wouldn't have transportation. I staged a cab driver to bring you wherever you wanted to go so I could keep tabs on you. I tried to have you drugged, but you couldn't handle it and almost died. I wanted your virginity stripped so Finn would stop his stupid fucking obsession, but that didn't fucking work either. Why is that, Jennifer? Why do you keep slipping through my fingers? This time, you won't. It was only a matter of time before I took you. You're fucking naive."

She pulled a knife from a sheath on her leg and inspected it with a smile. The crazy bitch then straddled me with the knife in her hand, and I knew at any moment she would stab me in my chest, in my heart, and watch me bleed out on the dirty mattress. The sharpness of the blade skimmed my face as she leaned over close to my face and whispered, "I want to fucking kill you. I want to watch your life leave your eyes." She wrapped my hair around her fist and jerked my head forward. "For ruining what Finnley and I would have had. You know, he fired me because of you. Because you couldn't fucking handle seeing me with him. Sexual harassment. What the hell? I was fired for sexual harassment, and you know, this is payback."

My heart pounded so hard in my chest that my ears rang. Jesse continued to pull my hair tight in her hand and wrapped it twice around her fist.

"We would have fallen in love. We would have gotten married, had kids, started a life together, and lived happily ever after. I had a plan to make him want me. Make him want me. But your skank ass arrived and took that from me. You are responsible for him pulling away from me. For that, you will pay for the rest of your sorry fucking life, which won't be very long."