BEAU2Y (Beauty Part 2): Blaire's World Page 14

  Beauty offered Marisol a hug too before Raul helped the old woman into the back seat of the car. Opening the door for Beauty, she scurried in, and Henry climbed into the driver’s seat. Then we were off, headed for home, finally.

  “What’s going to happen with the bodies? Pigs?” Beauty asked, her tone curious and perhaps a touch enthusiastic.

  Marisol muttered something under her breath and signed the holy cross over her chest. It would be interesting having her around, although I assumed after the things she’d been privy too in Kleeman’s house, my reclusive home in Mexico would be rather quiet.

  “Jamison’s aunt and uncle own a funeral home. They’ll be burned and their ashes flushed.”

  “Huh, no shit.” She snorted, laughed and continued to say, “no pun intended.”

  Fighting my own smile was hopeless. Fuck how I had missed her.

  “What happened to the rabbit?”

  “Shot him, he was crying,” Raul answered Beauty’s question.

  “What about Christopher? Are we gonna off him too?”

  Raul and I chuckled at Beauty’s description of “offing” somebody.

  “Jamison is taking care of that.”

  “Sweet, so, we’re finished? Does that mean we’re going to Mexico?”

  Just as I was about to answer, my phone buzzed. Pulling it from my pocket, the name BOSS glared back at me and I sighed. I was determined to take Beauty to my home and ravish her for days, but if Charlie had a job for me, we’d need to postpone the interlude. For the first time in my life, I found I had reason to ignore his beckoning call. Sliding open the screen, I read the text message.

  Gift for you at warehouse 1601.

  Hmmm, there was only one purpose for Warehouse 1601, and it was usually bloody and messy. It definitely peeked my curiosity.

  “Slight detour, I’m afraid.” Both Raul and Beauty groaned out loud. Henry remained his usual stoic self, though I knew he was eager for a break too. We all were. It had been months since any of us had taken some decent time off. “We need to swing by warehouse 1601 before we head home.”

  Henry glanced at me from the rearview mirror, his eyes saying “what the fuck?” We’d only been there once before, and the gruesome display of violent torture had been positively mesmerizing.

  “Where’s that?” Beauty asked, kicking off the flip flops she’d found in her bedroom and pulling her feet up to rest in my lap.

  “It’s in Mexico, but several hours from my home. We’ll take a few days off to recoup, and Raul can escort Marisol home and get her settled while we visit the warehouse.” Raul was a people person, he was better equipped to handle Marisol.

  The old woman was already beginning to fade, her tired eyes heavy as she studiously tried to ignore our conversation.

  “By the way, there was something you mentioned to Kleeman back at the house that I wanted to bring up. Something about other men who visited his home?”

  “Oh yeah, I remember them,” she said, tapping the side of her temple with a mighty proud look on her face. “All of them.”

  “All of who?”

  “The other men Eddie invited to his home. It was like a damn smorgasbord of depravity, there was always a woman he was offering up to be used, housekeepers, cooks, sometimes women he brought in, and I have no idea if they were prostitutes, or, you know . . . slaves.” Beauty’s voice was becoming harder the longer she went on. “I never really understood what was happening, and some of those women disappeared . . . some came back, but different. Now I understand, they were being used.” Those pretty eyes were narrowed, and Beauty’s monster rolled from within, the deep rage purring seductively. Taking a long breath, she squeezed her eyes closed, shook out her hands, then opened those beautiful doll-like orbs once more, this time with a smile curving her lips. She was already learning to control her temper, and in such a short span of time was quite remarkable.

  “It was Marisol who taught me how to remember them.”

  “You were my clever chiquita,” Marisol murmured.

  “When I was little, Marisol told me if I knew the demon’s names, I’d have power over them.”

  “My memory has never been good,” Marisol went on, adding to Beauty’s story. “But my Lucy is inteligente, she had a memory like an elefante, she could remember everything.”

  Beauty laughed. “Go figure. I couldn’t remember past the end of my nose a few days ago.”

  “You know the names of the men who used the women?” I clarified, somewhat amazed with the story.

  “Yup,” she said, popping the ‘p’. “Mr. Gregory Emmerick, Mr. William Carter, Señor Slavador De Alba.” Her eyes suddenly narrowed. “Hubert Dalcourt. . . Bear?”

  Well I’ll be damned.

  “I didn’t like him, he was a narcissistic pig.”

  “Sounds familiar,” I murmured.

  “Oh, and we can’t forget Garrett.”

  “Who?”

  “Garrett, the boy who set me up to be kidnapped.” Leaning forward she pressed her lips to my ear. “The boy who danced with me,” she whispered, anger biting at her words. “He pretended to like me. He just stood there and watched with a smile as I was stolen away.”

  My fingers curled into fists as I imagined my Beauty being deceived in such a way.

  “Perhaps for him I will have Raul bring my death mask out of retirement.”

  “Death mask?” Beauty asked, her eyes dancing with interest.

  “Something not unlike a bear trap, though it’s secured around the neck. At my leisure, I press a button and the jaws spring shut around the head.” Smacking my hands together, I imitated the force of such a torturous device. “After the last time I used it, it took Raul days to clean the brain and blood out of the metal contraption. I promised him no more . . . but, this is something, special.”

  “No shit,” Beauty murmured in awe. “When do we go get it? When do we go hunting?”

  “Soon, I think we’ve earned a few weeks off though.”

  “But we need to get on this. These men might be abusing women right now?” Beauty argued.

  “Belleza, you start writing down all the names, and I will begin searching. It will take us some time to put it all together. You and Hart can rest, and I’ll see what I can find on these men. Maybe I’ll even try and put another bebé in Sylvie while I’m home.”

  Raul to the rescue.

  “I thought Sylvie was having you neutered?” Beauty asked.

  “Don’t even joke, Belleza!”

  Noticing the bag at my feet, I pulled it onto the empty seat beside us and dragged open the zipper. Inside were my belongings, including Beauty’s copy of Hart Crane poetry. Reverently, she reached for it the moment her eyes settled on the leather bound cover.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, holding it close to her heart.

  I also procured her iPod and headphones, which she was quick to snatch away, pushing the earbuds into her ears. Flicking through the device, she found something to listen to and rested her head against the window. Those long, pale lashes fluttered closed, but not before she reached for my hand and linked her fingers with mine. For the longest time, I watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest, and knew the moment she drifted off to sleep, her eyes flickering with dreams beneath their lids. I could watch her for days and never get enough. Every agonizingly beautiful inch of her captivated me, and I swore I would never get tired of just gazing upon her. Bringing our linked hands to my lips, I kissed the back of her knuckles, and breathed “never again.”

  19

  BEAUTY

  The place where Warehouse 1601 was located was freaking impressive. I’m not even sure you could call these monstrosities warehouses. All the structures within the high security gates we’d passed through to get here were easily three floors high and double the length of the largest house I’d ever seen. It was a certifiable warehouse city, full of warehouse mansions with wide laneways between each building. And off the books it all belonged to the Los Zetas. I was beginni
ng to wonder if the organization had a slight warehouse fetish.

  Eventually Hart came to a stop beside the building we were after, how he knew which one I had no idea as they all looked the same to me. Climbing from the car, the heat hit me like a physical blow, and I groaned.

  “It’s hot.”

  Pulling my shirt away from my skin, I tried to get some air to my flesh. Within the warehouse city there was no breeze, and the concrete that surrounded us made me feel like I was being slow cooked in an oven.

  Hart grinned over his shoulder. “That it is.”

  He seemed quite content with the stifling heat, even in his long dark grey slacks, and pale grey button-up business shirt rolled to his elbows. Damn, he looked gorgeous. His hair slicked back from his handsome face, the angles of his sharp jawline catching the light. We’d spent the past week cooped up in a hotel, healing. We were both still littered with ugly bruises that were slowly beginning to yellow, but I must confess, all the time spent soaking in a spa and lying in the sauna had done wonders for my aches and pains. Right now, in the humid, sticky heat, I felt like a washed-out river rat standing beside the impeccable Mr. Cordell. Probably had something to do with the fact he dragged me from the shower not more than an hour ago, ravished me hard and fast in the hotel bed before hauling me to the monster warehouse city. My hair was knotted and still damp, so I’d pulled it into a messy bun on the top of my head. My short denim shorts, spaghetti strap singlet, sneakers, and my fine gold chain with the little ruby heart were about as much as I dared clothe myself in for fear of dying of heat stroke. I looked decidedly haggard. Hart however looked like the devil himself, sinfully beautiful.

  At the door he pushed a series of numbers into a keypad and waited for an electronic beep before twisting the knob and opening the door. Beyond only darkness beckoned. Both Henry and I hesitated to enter, and Hart’s grin grew.

  “Scared?”

  I said “no” at the same time Henry said “yes”.

  The fact Henry was nervous made me nervous. Henry was huge, and well-armed, and sickly pale. He knew something I didn’t, which made me uneasy. Even with Hart standing casually by the door with his hands shoved in his pockets looking all dreamy and badass at the same time, I was anxious about whatever awaited us inside. Hart assured me Charlie Decena wouldn’t be here. Pity, I still wanted to stab the bastard for taking Algis’ last breath. Nonetheless, whatever loomed in the darkness beyond this door made Henry look ready to vomit.

  Hart disappeared inside, and I followed, Henry dragging his feet behind us. It was pitch black, only the stray light from the open doorway chasing away a small area of darkness. Hart used his cell phone as a torch, guiding us toward the center of the enormous building. With each step I took, a low hum from somewhere inside grew louder and louder. After a few long moments, a click echoed and a spotlight in the middle of the room sprung to life.

  “The lights operate on sensors. They automatically switch on when you reach this point,” Hart patiently explained as I looked about nervously. The edges of the warehouse were still hidden in darkness. Anyone could be back there . . . watching . . . waiting.

  In the center of the warehouse, the light seemed focused on what looked like a huge glass container, about the size of a small room. While I moved cautiously toward the object, Hart waltzed forward without a care.

  “What is this?” I wondered as we approached the fogged-up glass. This was where the humming was the loudest, coming from some sort of machine at the other end of the glass room. Touching the side, I found it bitterly cold and damp. Condensation.

  “A refrigerator, of sorts,” Hart answered.

  Wiping away the fog, I peered through the glass. The sight that greeted me took the air from my lungs. In the center of the glass room, hung a naked man suspended in mid-air by cables. At the end of the cables were hooks that threaded through his flesh.

  “Who is that?” I hissed.

  “I have my suspicions,” Hart murmured, pushing open the glass door.

  I followed him into the strange room and gasped at the frigid cold that greeted me. Ignoring the sting to my warm flesh, I followed Hart to stand beside the body which had an unusual blue grey hue to it.

  Hooks had been threaded into the man’s skin all over his back, legs and arms, then attached to the cables which hoisted him up into the air. His flesh looked about ready to be torn apart. Blood pooled on the concrete floor beneath his head, and when Hart took a fist-full of his hair and lifted his face, I realized why.

  “Holy shitballs, is that Viktor?”

  With his eyes gouged from their sockets, his tongue most likely removed considering the amount of dry, crusted blood on his lips, and his ears hacked off, his features were barely discernable.

  “That it is.”

  Hart released Viktor’s hair and his head fell back between his stretched shoulders.

  “See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil,” I muttered, vying for indifference. It was hard though because this was freaking impressive. Who the fuck has a glass fridge the size of a room?!

  “Essentially. Nobody crosses the Los Zetas without repercussions.”

  I was somewhat disappointed that Viktor had already been tortured and killed. He was supposed to be ours. He had wronged me. Yet again, this Charlie Decena had taken what should have been mine. I was moments away from stomping my foot in protest when Hart took my hand in his.

  “You have to admit, it’s quite beautiful.”

  Huffing out an irritated breath of frosty air, I eventually nodded and mumbled, “I like the hooks.”

  “Hmmm,” Hart hummed. “The only thing missing, is music.”

  Henry disappeared into the shadows, probably to spew from the look upon his face. Hart opened the door to the glass room and signaled for me to leave ahead of him. Following me out, he found a chair nearby. Dragging it to sit beside Viktor’s dangling body behind the frigid glass, he stretched his legs out in front of him and began to scroll through his cell phone for music. Finally finding the right song, he placed the phone on the arm of the chair and steepled his fingers under his chin.

  “Dance for me, Beauty.”

  “Serious Love” by Anya Marina began to play. It wasn’t classical, but I’d soon discovered after meeting Hart my body could move to just about anything. And he was always eager to watch.

  “Please,” he added with a boyish grin when I didn’t start dancing right away.

  So, I danced. With my palm to my lips, I blew Hart a kiss, lifted my leg high into the air in an arabesque before bringing it back to my ankle with a pointed toe and spun myself round in a pirouette. Hart’s eyes immediately grew heavy, and his perfect lips parted ever so slightly as he watched me with such spellbound attention. Spinning around the strange fridge and its frozen occupant, I smiled into the bright beam of light that shone down upon me. It was like my very own personal spotlight.

  “You know, I think it’s only fair that you should have to dance for me too one day,” I said aloud.

  “Hmmm,” was Hart’s only reply.

  “Perhaps you should strip for me.”

  “I’m more than happy to spend my time with you naked, my love.”

  My love. Love. A word as foreign to me as the concept of family. Hart had shown me the love and loyalty that my biological family never hoped to possess. The wicked man watching me with such obsessive desire owned me, my monster, and a part of me I thought had been quelled within the walls of Algis’ home . . . Lucy.

  As the songstress sung about the unexpected side effects of real love, the kind that threw you from your perfectly paved road, and left you lost and delirious, I danced for my Hart. He’d found me not on a perfectly paved road, but rather down a dark, lonely stretch of dirt, and upon that dark path, he’d taken my hand and walked by my side as my equal.

  He breathed new life into me.

  When once upon a time I was a nameless victim, I am no more. My name is Beauty, and I’m just the type of monster this world needs.<
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  THE END

  For real this time . . .

  Thanks for reading. I hope you’ve enjoyed BEAU2Y. If you could leave an honest review on Amazon and/or Goodreads, I’ll be forever grateful.

  I hope you will check out the rest of BLAIRE’S WORLD: more Dark Romance novels waiting just for you. They don’t have to be read in any order, so you can dive right in wherever you’d like. All available on Amazon. Enrolled in Kindle Unlimited.

  BLAIRE’S WORLD

  LUNA & ANDRES

  SERAFINA

  KRISTOFF

  EVELINA

  OLIVER

  I also encourage you to read The Dark Romance Series if you haven’t already. With over 1000 5-star reviews, BLAIRE and BLAI2E have become an international Amazon sensation. Anna Zaires says BLAIRE, Part 1, is “Compelling Dark Romance.”

  Available on Amazon.

  Enrolled in Kindle Unlimited.

  Available on Audio.

  Find them here: www.anitagrayauthor.com

  OTHER BOOKS BY KIRSTY DALLAS

  Mercy’s Angels Series – contemporary romance (Kindle Unlimited)

  Violet Addiction – friends to lovers

  Breeze of Life – road trip romance, friends to lovers

  Decker’s Wood – bestselling comedy romance

  Bradley’s Whistle – comedy romance

  Stupid Love – comedy romance with a twist

  When Nothing Is All You’ve got – award winning dark romance

  Liberty – a spin-off to When Nothing Is All You’ve Got