#RunningWilde Ch. 3 | Two Can Play That Game
There’s something intoxicating about a wild woman; the way she refuses to be repressed by society’s definition of what a woman should be, and how she is unapologetically her true self. It can be quite a paradox for some men to deal with; on the one hand he may become conflicted in how he perceives her because she is completely unconventional, with socially questionable principles and values, a girl that you are wary of taking home to meet the family. On the other hand, the wild woman is one of the most beautiful creatures a man can encounter, not only for her outer appearance, but because of her aura too; she is liberating like the first gasp of air to hit your lungs after being held underwater for too long.
Max was in love with Ava; it had been that way since the day he met her when he was 15 and she was only 8. It didn’t start out as a romantic love; it was love of the purest kind, innocent and nurturing. Her serene nature derived from her naivety held a certain sweetness that made you want to shield her from anything that would corrupt her perfect, happy little world so that she could always stand in the light, but Ava had a habit of seeking out the darkness and trying to right it; she was annoyingly passionate about doing it with all of her ‘save the world’ projects, and yet she was oblivious to the darkness that was her father’s legacy -and it was Max’s job to keep it that way. As far as Ava was concerned, Max was sent to look after her while she was away from Daddy dearest simply because her father had drummed into her head that as he was such an extremely wealthy businessman, that these things were expected of him. She’d argued that none of her peers who were also from prestigious families, had bodyguards. Her father said that just because they had money and titles that didn’t make them as important as she was. Ava sighed and accepted Max as her protector, chalking her father’s overprotectiveness as fear of losing another member of his family. He had been devastated when her mother committed (what Ava and the rest of the world were led to believe was) ‘suicide’ all those years ago, and couldn’t bear to lose his darling daughter too.
Max owed Vince his life. As a child he’d had a rough time growing up; his parents had come to London from Taiwan in search of a better life for their family, but sadly things didn’t go to plan. They struggled to find work and even when they did find work it still never paid enough for them to survive adequately on. Max’s two older sisters both turned to prostitution, his father got sick and his mother fell into a deep depression, so by the time he was ten years old, Max learned to fend for himself. Instead of going to school he did odd cash in hand jobs, and spent a lot of time in the library teaching himself about the world through endless piles of books, and escaping it through them too. He was often picked on by the rougher kids in his neighbourhood because he would rather work and read than associate with them, which is how he learnt how to fight. He had to; otherwise they never would have stopped. Although he wasn’t a violent person, Max was good at fighting. Once the bullying became too frequent, he started to read about different martial art techniques, practice them at home and try them out on his tormentors. Each time they came for him, he got better and better and they could see it.
One day when he was 15, five boys tried to jump him at once. On this particular day, Vince was passing through Max’s neighbourhood and watched in awe as this lanky Asian boy brought down every single one of them on his own without the advantage of weapons. Vince pulled over, chased the bruised and battered boys off and had a chat with Max. He told him that he admired the fight in him and asked about Max’s home life. Max stood proudly before Vince and told him the truth about his unfortunate circumstances. Vince decided that a boy of Max’s talents shouldn’t go to waste and offered him a better life as one of the soldiers of The Syndicate. Max was wary of this strange well-dressed white man’s offer, and was about to turn him down when from the back window of the man’s Bentley rolled down and a little brown girl popped her head out of the window and yelled out impatiently, “Daddyyyyyy!” She noticed Max, blinked her huge hazel eyes at him and then she smiled warmly and waved. Something about this child put Max’s soul at peace; he saw light in her that he’d never seen in anyone else and decided that he would like to be around her for the rest of his life. He didn’t know why, but at that moment, that was all he wanted. Max waved back at her and agreed to go with Vince.
He’d never meant to end up as a bodyguard, but Max didn’t mind it all that much because it allowed him to be with Ava. As they grew he developed stronger feelings for her, watching as she blossomed into the beautiful young woman with the same heart of gold that had drawn him to her in the first place. Although he loved her, Max knew that he could never be with her -Vince would never allow it -so day by day he moved with her, protecting her from the darkness, with the unsung love song for the ages on his tongue that she would never hear, trying to ignore the ache from the weight of unrequited love.
He wasn’t supposed to leave Ava’s side, but Ashley had stirred something within him; a feral fire that he hadn’t satiated in a long time. Guarding Ava was a fulltime job, but he figured that nothing bad could happen to her while she was surrounded by her girls at the student union bar, plus, Ava was a sensible girl (more or less), so she wouldn’t do anything stupid. She was also a little prudish, so taking some guy back to her dorm was not on the cards at all. Max told himself that she’d be fine without him for a few minutes while he discovered exactly how much trouble Ashley was.
Ash was something of a siren; a mistress of seduction with the capabilities to bring even the most powerful men to their knees. Ash understood men and their quiet need to feel real love, disguised with inflated egos and chauvinism. Like women, men wanted to be worshipped and adored, but each man has different preferences on the way his worship and adoration was delivered, so different tactics had to be used. To unearth their desire, it was important to pay attention to the clues they revealed in their casual manner. Max was Ava’s bodyguard; a protector. Ash found that when it came to sex, people often craved the opposite of what their casual demeanours portrayed, which meant that in Max’s case, it was likely that rather than take care with her, he’d prefer to dominate and ruin her instead; his arrogance and watchfulness hinted at that.
They tumbled into the empty dorm room that Ash had stolen the Excelsior sweater from, joined at their fervent lips whilst violently tugging off items of clothing until their thrashing bodies backed onto the unmade bed in just their underwear. The only light in the room was from the pearly ice-blue glow of the moon that shone softly through the double glazed window. Max admired how the moonlight transformed Ashley’s freckled porcelain skin, giving it an ethereal quality that made her look like a red haired fire nymph. It had been a long while since he had been with a woman, so the feel of Ashley’s warm, toned body felt almost foreign to him. He had missed this exquisitely simple pleasure; being able to caress, stroke, manipulate and mould a beautiful woman’s anatomy beneath his fingers and watch in awe as she reacted to his provocative touch. That was the best part of making love to someone, the control that you had over them, the way you could sync their nature with yours and make them sigh, undulate and cry out for you. He wanted to hear Ashley cry out for him.
Slowly, Max retracted his lips from Ashley’s and laced his arm under the deep curve of her back to hold her in place so that he could watch her come undone. With his other hand, he placed his palm flat on her flat stomach then gradually let it glide upward to the edge of her ivory lace bra, enjoying the feeling of her breath catching and releasing the higher he got. His thumb circulated her areola through the intricately woven brocade pattern of the delicate lace, until her nipples stood to attention, pert and aching to be relieved by something more. Ash whined and arched her back, presenting herself to him. Max opened his palm and cupped her breast, kneading it gently through the material before he peeled away her left bra cup and kissed it. He repeated this routine on her other breast then let his hand travel between her legs.
Ash sighed and settled back onto his arm, pressing the softness of her sex into his probing fingers. They slipped beneath the now damp lace, and he inserted one into her, pulling it in and out of her opening at an agonisingly slow rate that agitated and excited her. Max stared down at her artistic features, marvelling at how much more fascinating she was to look at whilst in this state of erotic animation. He studied the way her full flushed lips parted slightly as she released soft moans and heavy breaths for him, the way her turquoise orbs glittered and glazed over every time his finger massaged her quivering g-spot, and the blush of reckless abandon that warmed her pale speckled cheeks when he pulled out. She gyrated on his finger, patiently following his tortuous rhythm, encouraging him to reach further into her.
“Keep still,” he grunted huskily, his voice thick with arousal as he slipped another finger in. Ash jerked in surprise and Max halted his slow torment. “Ashley, keep still or I will make you keep still,” he warned.
“Will you now?” she smirked languidly, daring to curve her waist and slide up and down Max’s slick fingers. He allowed her to pleasure herself for a few seconds; it was a sight to see this rebellious red haired woman fuck his hand with a smile on her face, but he wanted to control her reactions and Ash knew this. Her moving on his fingers was only meant to serve one purpose -to challenge him so that when he did finally take her, he would not hold back. Men like Max wanted complete control when it came to making love, and if you did not give it to them willingly, they would cleverly find a way to take it.
Max slid his arm out from under her back and pressed down on her abdomen to halt her movements; “I will.” Keeping her pinned in place, he thrust his fingers into her quickly, pumping his arm furiously and listening to the wet squishing sound of his knuckles coming up against her lower lips. He kept hitting the same spot over and over while Ashley struggled to jerk beneath him, trying to respond the way her body wanted to, but her instincts were thwarted by the ever growing pressure of his hand on her stomach. Her mouth fell open and her breathing became more infrequent as the pressure in her lower region began to skyrocket from his consistent attack on her g-spot. She gripped the bed sheets and threw her head back, her soft whimpers and heavy panting turning into cries of sexual injustice as she fought to free herself from his restrictive hold. Her legs began to shake.
“Don’t cum yet,” he whispered and leant down to kiss her mouth. She bit his bottom lip. Max winced and growled at her. In one fluid movement the hand that pressed down on her stomach was at her throat, and the one inside her tugged down his boxers, unleashing his pulsating member. He crashed into her purposefully, like flint against a rock, setting her on fire and gripping her throat so hard that her windpipe was constricted –that was like dousing her flame in gasoline. Ash gasped with pleasure and clawed at his arm, gagging for air between heated, breathless kisses. She spread her thighs wider for him, wanting to feel the base of his dick kiss her lower lips as he slammed harder and faster into her. Max groaned and pulled his mouth away so that he could lift his torso from hers and watch her as he granted her masochistic request; he fell deeper inside.
Ash’s body began to go limp, and her fire steadily dimmed with every heavy blink of her surrendering eyelids. She was too lightheaded to do anything more than feel Max’s savageness as he attacked her quivering body with the intensity of a great warrior. Her arms fell to her side and her head lolled, then like a quiet storm the orgasm took over, creeping up on her gradually until there was nothing but a blinding white light flashing beneath her eyelids and an explosion of feeling.
Max sighed gratuitously as her walls clench around his shaft followed by the warm rush of her release as she came hard all over him. He released her neck, waited for her dramatic gasp of air before he lifted her hips up to meet his, and crushed her creamed core onto his cock at an unnatural pace, until he trembled, clutched her against him and exploded inside of her.
He collapsed next to Ash, panting and smiling, completely satiated. “You were worth the trouble,” he joked.
“You weren’t too bad yourself,” she laughed as she discreetly reached under the bed, pulled a syringe full of Rohypnol out from where she had hidden it between the bed frame and the mattress and stuck it into his neck, hitting the main artery like an expert assassin. She smiled down at him as the tranquiliser took effect, “I kinda wish I didn’t have to do that; you’re an excellent lover Max Yang, but I have a job to do. When you wake up, give my regards to Vince Lockewood. Tell him we’ll take good care of Ava-Marie until we get Keegan back.”
“Ava…” Max gurgled groggily as the tranquiliser set in. The last thing he saw was Ash’s beautifully speckled porcelain body glowing in the moonlight before it blurred into darkness.
Aiden walked through the entrance of Rococo Lounge with Dougie and Stone flanking him, all dressed in black nightclub attire, subtly flying the official colour of the Diamond Mafia with pride to announce their presence. Driver was sitting in the black out Range Rover down one of the backstreets, with the engine still running just in case they needed to make a quick getaway.
It was an attractive place, decorated with black floors and black, purple and gold brocade walls, with grand gold pillars, beautiful sculptures of naked goddesses and angels, and soft blinking gold and purple lights that flashed in an entrancing sequence.
As Aiden made his way to the back of the club, the women stopped and stared with lust in their eyes so apparent that he could feel them undressing him -he did look particularly handsome in a suit. He was used to the way women fawned over him; he was the dream of a melanin demi-god made reality; tall, dark and handsome with a proud mouth, heavily lashed dark eyes that appeared to be black unless seen under the right light, smooth dark chocolate skin with a few scars here and there that made him look a bit more rugged but didn’t diminish his attractiveness, and tattoos covering him from the neck down. His hair was cut low and fell across his scalp in slick dark waves, with a thin goatee and moustache that connected to his chinstrap. He looked like a bad boy should, and acted like a bad boy did, but the ladies loved him anyway.
Aiden stepped up to one of Vince’s men who guarding the door that led to the exclusive VIP box upstairs that looked out over the whole establishment, where Vince and his guys hung out when they were in the area. The security guard was big, burly and (to a regular civilian) intimidating, with sunglasses on, a headset and a large coat that concealed multiple weapons and security gadgets beneath it. He looked blankly at Aiden.
“I’m here to see Vince,” Aiden said, not waiting for the man to ask him any questions. He had been trying to keep his cool the whole way here, anxious to get to Keegan, and now that he was this close, his impatience was beginning to show.
“Who are you?” the guard rumbled in an unnaturally deep, authorative voice.
“A business associate.”
“Care to give me your name, Mr ‘Business Associate’?” the guard sneered.
“Not really.” Aiden made a subtle gesture with his head and Dougie stepped forward, drew a blade from his sleeve and slit the guard’s throat. Before the large man could fall and draw attention to them, Stone pushed the door behind him open, and he and Dougie ushered the guard through quickly while Aiden strolled coolly in after them, stepping over the lifeless body. “Stone, go hide him somewhere and keep look out for any more of them. If you do see any more of them, deal with them. Ash will let you know when she has the girl; once she does, I want you to call me right away.”
Stone grunted and nodded lazily; he wasn’t much of a talker, Stone mostly just smoked and grunted, which is how he got the nickname. He was the biggest stoner of the crew; high from the moment he woke up to the moment he fell asleep, so his attitude was generally very laid back, but he operated well on it. When he wasn’t high (which was only first thing in the morning) Stone would get agitated very easily, and would be all over the place, fidgeting and fussing with everything. The weed balanced him out.
Aiden and Dougie walked past the elevator, not wanting to risk being trapped inside if the security guard watching the camera spotted them and trapped them inside. They headed down the dimly lit corridor until they found the stairs, and climbed up three flights, hitting the floor that led to the VIP box. Dougie stepped in front of Aiden and peeked discreetly into the circular pane of glass to see how many security guard Vince had in there with him; he counted five of them –two by the door, one by the window overlooking the club, one behind Vince and the other against the back wall. The room was a decent size, carpeted and filled with a mini bar, a circular couch and a large glass table in the centre of it. There were gold wall lights and long, slim black speakers mounted in each corner that played Jazz music. He slipped his blade back into its sheath hidden in the sleeve of his jacket and double checked for his pistol hidden at his back, before pushing the door open casually so Aiden could step inside.
Amongst the guards and Vince, there were a few of Vince’s lieutenants and capos with two skinny, scantily clad girls to every man, sipping champagne, smoking Cuban cigars and sniffing cocaine off of their breasts. They paused their party to look up at the unexpected intruders -the security stepped in front with their guns out, and Vince’s men did the same. Dougie smiled.
“Gentlemen,” Vince said coolly, lifting the strung out girl off of his lap and getting to his feet, “Are you lost?” Vince was around 5”11, with a head full of thick chestnut hair that had streaks of grey on the side that curled around his ears and at the nape of his neck. His face was pale and uniquely distinguished, with exotic features that weren’t usually found on Caucasian men, like his thick, heavy set eyebrows, a prominent mouth and high cheek bones. His eyes were his best feature; they were an icy blue shade, so light that they were almost colourless, with a ring of indigo on the outside that gave them a haunting quality if he stared at you for too long. He was clean shaven and had laugh lines around his eyes and mouth (which took years off of his forty-something appearance), and he was dressed impeccably in a navy blue suit from Tom Ford, with platinum cufflinks, a white shirt and skinny black tie.
“No, we are not lost,” Aiden answered matching Vince’s cool tone.
“Then how may I help you?”
“Tell your men to stand down; my friend doesn’t respond well to guns being pulled on him,” Aiden gestured at the sinister grin on Dougie’s face, “And I find it really irritating.”
“They’re doing their job, so until I know what it is that you want, I am not inclined to tell them to do otherwise. So, what do you want?”
“I want to talk about what you have done with my brother.”
“And you are? Forgive me, I would like to know so I know whose brother is the subject here, there are so many of them.”
“I am Aiden Michaels. My brother is K Dot.”
“Ah, Aiden” Vince smiled, “The head of the Diamond Mafia, am I correct?”
“Yes.” Aiden confirmed tightly. He wasn’t surprised that Vince knew who he was; Vince ran the drug scene in London, he knew everyone.
“And this must be Dougie. Please, come in gentlemen.” Vince made a whistling sound and his security backed away and lowered their guns. Vince returned to his seat and gestured for Aiden and Dougie to sit in the seats opposite him on the circular couch. They both noted how Vince’s men didn’t put their weapons away, but instead had them rested in their laps ready for use. Dougie kept smiling.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
“No. I came for my brother, not to play frenemies with you.”
Vince’s ice-blue eyes hardened like a glacier at Aiden’s insolence, “Suit yourself.” He took his cigar from the ashtray on the table in front of him and puffed on it with an air of arrogant supremacy. The pungent smell of the tobacco made Aiden gag slightly; he never understood why people smoked them, they smelt bad and tasted even worse. “I like you Aiden; I’ve heard good things about you and was hoping that we could talk business one day. It’s a shame we couldn’t meet under better circumstances. I’m afraid that I can’t just give you your brother back. His stupidity caused me quite a bit of trouble with one of my clients, not to mention the money he owes me and my missing product. If I just gave him back to you after all of that, how would that make me look?”
Aiden spoke through gritted teeth, “I understand the position this puts you in; K Dot was stupid for doing this, and if I’d have known, I’d have dealt with him accordingly, but as I only found out today after discovering that you had your men pick him up without discussing it with me, that puts us in a bit of a predicament.”
“I suppose it does,” Vince smirked, “So what do you suggest we do to get out of this predicament.”
Aiden leant back in his seat, “You give me Keegan back, I’ll give you the remainder of your product and make him work until he pays you back for what he sold.”
“And what about his payment for the trouble he caused?”
“What do you suggest?”
Vince leant back in his seat, “10 million, upfront.”
“You and I both know that I don’t have that kind of money on hand,” Aiden scowled.
Vince shrugged and too another puff of his cigar, “That’s not my problem. Those are my terms if you want your brother back. I hear you’re good, so I’m sure you can find the amount, and because I like you, I’ll give you three days to find it, but once those three days are up, your brother will be dead.” He smiled. Aiden saw the reason Vince had all of those laugh lines; it was because he had achieved the kind of power that meant he didn’t have to stress about anything because he always came out on top by any means necessary. “Think of it as motivation.”
Aiden clenched his fists tightly, trying to keep his head; Vince knew that he could never gather that amount of money in three days. As well off as Aiden was, he hadn’t reached the point where he could just hand over 10 million like it was nothing yet. Vince wanted to make an example out of Keegan and was dangling this offer in front of Aiden just to make him think he had a chance when he really didn’t. “That’s not going to work for me.”
“I don’t care if it works for you. Those are my terms and if you ever want to see your brother again, you will find a way to make it work.”
Aiden cracked his knuckles. He needed to stall for time until he had news of Ava-Marie’s capture so that he could get Vince to reconsider. “How do I even know that you haven’t killed him already?”
“You don’t, you’ll just have to take my word for it.” Vince grinned.
Aiden’s eyes darkened, he didn’t like the way this man was toying with him so flippantly. He may not have been as powerful as Vince yet, but he was just as dangerous, if not more, which is why Vince had heard his name. Aiden was one of the last men to mess with because if he couldn’t come out on top, he would make sure that his enemy couldn’t either. “Fuck your word, I want to speak to my brother,” Aiden hissed.
“Fuck what you want!” Vince narrowed his eyes at Aiden through the stream of cigar smoke; was this junior really trying to belittle him on his own turf while he held his brother in captive? “This is my city; I call the shots here, not you!”
“Do you really think that I’m going to bust my ass to get your shit back to you, plus 10 million pounds on top of that if I have no guarantee that my brother is even alive?”
“Yes,” Vince replied bluntly. He leant forward in his seat and peered at the young drug lord, “I mean, it’s not like you really have a choice is it? You either do as I say and hope that your brother comes back to you, or you don’t do, and you have no hope of ever seeing him again. Those are your choices; pick one.”
Aiden glared at the king pin with eyes full of hatred, “You’re very arrogant, you know that?” he sneered.
Vince put his cigar down “And you’re just as stupid as your idiot brother if you think you can sit here and insult me under my own roof. I think it’s time you and your little friend left.”
“We haven’t finished talking.”
“Oh yes we have.” Vince nodded at his security. They advanced on Aiden and Dougie with their guns aimed at them once more. Dougie reached for his, his twisted smile was back again.
“I’m not leaving until I speak to Keegan,” Aiden said getting to his feet. As he stood up he reached under the hem of his trousers and pulled out his pistol and aimed it at Vince, not caring that every gun in the room was trained on him and Dougie.
Vince laughed in disbelief; how could this boy be so cavalier? The odds clearly weren’t in his favour and yet he was still pushing his luck. He admired his spirit, but thought he was an idiot. “This is getting ridiculous. You haven’t got a leg to stand on, and still you continue to challenge me?”
“He is my brother.”
“I’ve stated my terms,” Vince sighed, quickly growing bored of this tedious pissing contest, “If you don’t leave now then I will make you leave in a body bag. It’s your choice.”
Just then Aiden’s phone began to vibrate. Keeping his pistol trained on Vince, he pulled the phone out and pressed it to his ear.
“It is done.” Stone murmured. Aiden hung up and nodded at Dougie. They lowered their weapons and smiled at Vince.
Vince knew something had just gone horribly wrong. Whatever that person said to Aiden on the phone made the previously hostile young man too calm for his liking. He frowned, “What?”
“I think you should let me speak to my brother now,” Aden suggested evenly, “That is if you ever want to speak to your daughter again.”
Vince paused for a moment, confused as to how this glorified thug knew about Ava-Marie; nobody outside of the first circle of Vince’s most trusted Lieutenants in The Syndicate knew she existed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that I figured that there was a chance that you may have been unreasonable, so I got some leverage just in case.”
The room fell silent as Vince sat glaring at the opponent that he had sorely underestimated. He had made every precaution to make sure that Ava would be kept away from all of this; shipping her out of London, making her live amongst the British upper-class, and shielding her from the dark reality of his world to keep her safe, and now this young thug on the rise had tracked her down and dragged her into this mess all because of his stupid brother. Vince was livid, “I will kill you!” He spat.
“That wouldn’t be a very smart move. What do you think will happen to Ava if my soldiers find out that I’m dead?”
Vince dragged his fingers through his hair and cursed. He got to his feet, “Someone get me a phone!” he bellowed. One of his capo’s handed him their mobile and Vince scrolled down to find Chris’s number.
Chris picked up on the third ring. “Mikey, it’s 4am, what the fuck do you want?”
“It’s Vince,” he said tightly.
“Oh, my bad boss. What’s going on?”
“I need you to put the Michael’s kid on the phone.”
“Don’t waste your time, boss,” Chris chuckled, “The kid can barely speak. Hurly did a number on his face.”
Vince glanced at Aiden, who stood watching him through the barrage of stocky men in bulletproof vests. “It doesn’t matter, put him on the phone.”
“Okay boss.” Chris got up from the table where he had been playing poker and puffing cigars with Hurly and a few of the other Syndicate guys, and made his way down to the basement of one of their compounds. He unlocked the door and flipped a switch, flooding the bare cement walls with a blinding fluorescent light. In the corner curled up on a dirty mattress on the floor, chained to a cast iron pipe was the body of 19-year-old Keegan Michaels, covered in dried blood, weeping wounds, severe swelling, and his once honey brown skin now splotched with aggressive bruises. Chris kicked him in his side, “Wake up you little shit!” Keegan released a strangled howl, his mouth too swollen for his to part his lips properly. Chris grabbed him by the collar of his black Ralph polo shirt and yanked him to his feet. Keegan groaned and stumbled, wincing as tears formed at the corner of his eyes and fell, the saltiness stinging the cuts across his cheekbone. “The boss wants to talk to ya.” He put the phone on loud speaker.
“Keegan?” Vince called harshly.
Keegan looked at the phone but made no attempt to speak. That earned him a punch to the stomach from Chris. Keegan howled again.
“Speak when you’re spoken to, boy!” Chris snarled.
“Keegan, your brother Aden has come to see me. He wants to talk to you to make sure you’re still alive. Can you talk?”
Keegan mumbled an inaudible response.
“Close enough.” Vince shrugged. He stuck the phone out, beckoning Aiden to take it from him. The guards stepped aside to let Aiden pass, but closed back around Dougie, letting him know that was not okay to follow.
Aiden snatched the phone from Vince, but kept his eyes locked on him just in case he decided to do something stupid.“Keegz, you all right?”
Keegan tried harder to form words to let his big brother know that he was far from all right, that these bastards had beat him so bad that it hurt to breathe, but that it was cool because he was the trillest nigga in the Diamond Mafia and that once he got better he would kill them all…but it only made his face hurt more. His muffled speech turned into more distorted howls.
Aiden clenched his fist, wanting so badly to drive it through Vince’s face. “Don’t try to talk. I just needed to know that you’re still alive. I’m gonna get you home okay, just hang in there.” He hung up and handed the phone back to Vince with a menacing grimace on his face, “Here’s what’s going to happen since you and your boys think you can fuck with my family; I am going to get my soldiers to drop off the rest of your product and then you are going to give me back my little brother and 20 million pounds for the trouble you and your men have caused me_”
“Excuse me?” Vince choked.
“You heard me. I will return your product to you and you will give me Keegan and 20 million. Once Keegan is back in my custody and fit to work again once he heals from the shit your men did to him, he will work off the rest of the money he owes you and not a penny more. As you were kind enough to give me three days, I will extend the same courtesy to you.”
“I know you don’t think that’s going to fly with me kid.”
“I don’t give a fuck if it flies with you or not old man, I have your little girl and I will torture and kill her in three days if you do not do as I say,” he said smugly. “This could have gone a different way had you been more reasonable, but now the ball is in my court so we’re playing this my way.”
Vince narrowed his eyes at his new enemy, “And, how do I know you’re not bullshitting me about Ava?”
Aiden shrugged, “You don’t, you’ll just have to take my word for it, though I imagine once Max Yang is conscious again in a few hours, he’ll tell you himself.”
“Or I could just kill your brother, you and your little friend right now.”
“You could, but you won’t. I’m guessing from the lengths you went through to hide Ava that you wouldn’t risk her life like that.”
“My men will find her!”
“I promise you, they won’t,” Aiden said stonily. “You’ve already underestimate me once, old man, do you really want to make that mistake again?”
Vince grabbed Aiden’s arm, yanking him forward so that his face was inches from his. His anger had turned his pale skin a shade of puce that only made his icy eyes all the more haunting. “You will die for this!” he hissed.
“Not before you I won’t.” Aiden nodded in Dougie’s direction where he was stood proudly amongst the guards with his gun aimed at Vince’s head whilst the guards has their guns aimed at him. His smirk was too confident for Vince to take the risk; he had heard stories about Dougie too. He released Aiden, “Get out!”
Ash lifted Ava’s limp frame out of the boot of the car and carried her to the entrance of the compound. Once Max was out of the way it wasn’t that hard to capture her mark; she’d simply ran back and told her that Max was hurt and was asking for her. Ava followed without question and as soon as they were outside Ash stuck her with another one of her Rohypnol needles, and dragged her stumbling, semi-conscious frame to the car, binding her wrists and ankles, and gagging her mouth before she crammed her small body into the boot and closed the lid on her.
Once they were inside, two of The Maids of assigned to this compound took Ava from Ash and took her to the bedroom at the end of the hall, dumped her on the double bed, removed her gag, undid her bindings and fastened themto the posters of the bed frame.
“Poor girl,” one of them said to the other, “She has no idea what kind of hell is coming her way.”