In Hell We Dance

Salvation

-Isaac-

Man, some people are easy.

Connor is basically my bitch. Anything I want, he says he'll get. I know he has money. Daddy's money. Guess I chose the right shithole to call my home. Got myself a fast ticket to the life of my choosing. I have big plans for this place. That was no lie.

Can't believe he buckled under my sweet sweet lies. I wasn't going to do anything to pretty boy. Nothing he wouldn't like anyway. If he said no, I would have let him walk. I heard his bitching and it's like I told him: destiny. It was spur of the moment, but the crazy thing was, I'm starting to believe in that pretty shit I said. A partnership. Of course I want to fuck the guy, but no need to rush. He's shy, but I can break him. I always do.

I had nothing. Nowhere to go. His warehouse was the only place I could break into. The lock was flimsy. The night air promised death. I spent what little money I had on beer and a taxi the day before. Probably shouldn't have bought the beer, but I needed to wash the taste of blood from my mouth.

It's still there. An aftertaste that won't wash out.

That's why I asked for a lot of tequila, rum, Bacardi. Alcohol is the great cleanser. That and chocolate. I asked for a lot of that.

Connor returns two hours later, in the back of a fucking Mercedes.

I run to greet him as he climbs out and moves to the boot. I whistle, gazing at the beauty like I would a client. Connor is a client too, though he doesn't know it.

"Shit, man. That's the CLA 45 AMG."

Connor raises a brow.

"You know your stuff."

I shrug. "I've been with a few guys who are car freaks."

Connor's lip twitches, absorbing that tidbit of information. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was jealous. Damn. A minute ago he had no trust in me. This'll be easier than I thought. I just need to fuck him and he's all mine.

I start to pace around the piece of art, running my fingers down her sides—she won't mind. I catch him glaring in the corner of my eye. He looks cute when he glares.

"Two litre, four-cylinder twin-scroll turbocharged engine. I know this baby pumps out three-hundred-and-fifty-five hp and makes zero to a hundred miles per hour in 4 seconds."

I whistle, longer this time. That's some serious power. I've stumbled onto a gold mine here.

"4.6, actually," he mumbles. I smirk, which draws a blush. I could say any shit and he'd turn pink. It's kind of fun really. He reminds me of Trevor.

"Gone that fast, have you?"

"Of course not."

I purse my lips.

"No, you wouldn't, would you? Too much of a pussy."

He says nothing, but I can see I've struck a chord. Better lay off him. Not my style to give anyone the easy treatment but I need this partnership to work. Doesn't help if I make the guy cry.

"So," I grin, changing subject, "gotta have paddle shifters, right? What's the inside like?"

That seems to work. Connor might have a fucked-up relationship with his dad, but when daddy's money buys you this, you've gotta at least be somewhat grateful. What I'd kill to have a dad like Connor's. Not the bastard I got stuck with.

Connor closes the boot and moves to the front of the car, smiling my way. "Wanna see?"

I spy an ominous shape break around the corner. I can feel my cheeks drain of colour.