Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
She nodded. “Ok, Mr Morgan, I’m sorry.”
“Not as sorry as he’ll fucking be when I get my hands on the cunt.” I scrolled back up to events, checking out his next venue, and that’s when our cosy little duo became a trio. Demelza came dashing in.
“Mr Morgan…” she began, but I held up a hand.
“I know, I know, Topaz has been filling me in. I’ll get on it in a fucking minute.”
I was shaking with rage, my ears fucking ringing, and Topaz, bless her ditzy little socks, she took the fucking reins like a trooper.
“Don’t worry, Demelza,” she said. “I’ll give you a hand, just until Mr Morgan is ready.”
Demelza sighed. “It’s not normally a problem, it’s these masks, I can’t tell who’s bloody who tonight.” I felt her eyes on me, and turned to see her pouting. “And these weren’t put on the system properly,” she said. “I didn’t have any photos for this batch.”
“My bad,” I acknowledged. “I was a little distracted when I last processed them.”
“Who’s missing?” Topaz said, cutting my pathetic apology short.
Demelza flicked through the sheets. “I had four new starters, two came straight to me, I found one about fifteen minutes ago, and that was all good, but I can’t find this guy. George Frederick Winstanley.”
“Sorry?” Topaz said, and she was quick, ripping that sheet straight out of Demelza’s hand.
“What?” I said as her blushed face turned to fucking snow. “What is it?”
She put her hand over her mouth and her eyes were pools of fucking dread. “George Frederick Winstanley,” she said. “That’s Vincent Blackthorne’s real name.”
***
“Go!” I shouted. “Demelza get the fucking door team, get them to lock the main doors. Hell, get them to lock every fucking door. I want nobody in or out. Nobody, understand?”
She nodded, as white as Topaz. “Yes, Mr Morgan.”
“Now!”
She dashed off, and I was already calling up the security feeds, but the fucking masks everywhere made it hard.
“I’ve been looking for her,” Topaz said. “I couldn’t find her.”
I called up the camera to playroom four, but it was on a different circuit, it took a minute to fire up. My breath fucking stopped when the picture cleared, and there she was, I could only see her legs behind him, but I could see well enough to know she was pinned fucking solid. I leapt from my chair with hardly a fucking wince, the adrenaline was already rushing, pumping like a fucking piston.
“Where is she?” Topaz asked. “Is she ok?”
I didn’t answer. I was already off, racing down that corridor without a shit for anyone. The door was fucking locked, cunt. I smashed my shoulder into it but it wouldn’t budge.
“What shall I do?” Topaz arrived, panting. “What shall I do, Mr Morgan? You don’t think he’ll hurt her, do you?” She clutched her hands across her mouth as I slammed into the door again. “Please God, don’t say he’ll hurt her.”
“It’ll be the last thing the cunt ever fucking does,” I snarled, then realised I was running out of fucking options.
Demelza rushed up, out of breath. “They’re securing the doors… they’ll be up soon…”
But I didn’t have fucking time for soon. I ran my fingers over the hinges. I’d need tools. My mind was scrambling through options, no other entries, no vents, no fucking anything.
“FAYE!” I screamed. “I’M RIGHT OUTSIDE THIS FUCKING DOOR!”
I heard her shout something but it was muffled. I could have thumped my own fucking head in frustration, trying to work out how the fuck to get through that fucking door.
It turns out saviours come in the weirdest fucking disguises. A hulk of muscle, inked with a dragon, a black leather mask covering half his face.
“Hey,” he jogged up. “What’s going on, Morgan? Is Faye in there?”
“In there with Vincent fucking Blackthorne, the cunt from Italy. She’s locked in.” I was pacing, but there was nowhere to go.
Masque tapped the door, shoved his shoulder into it, and then he pulled his mask off. Shit was about to get serious.
“We can take it,” he said. “Two of us together, everything we’ve got.” He was already bracing himself, flexing, ready for the assault. “Ready?”
Was I ever fucking ready.
“We’ll take this fucking door down,” I snarled. “But that cunt in there is all mine.”
***
Faye
I kept him kissing my filthy mouth, kept my legs as tight shut as he’d let me. Distracting, ever distracting.
He broke away. “I’ve missed this, pretty bird. I’ve missed loving you. I love you more than life itself, you know?”
With any luck he’d be putting that statement to the fucking test.
“Now,” he said. “Open those sweet thighs for me, let me show you how much I’ve missed you, how good we are together.”
I shook my head, pretending, pretending. I gave my best smile, pulled my corset down.
“Not yet, Master. Punishment before love, always. You taught me that.”