AT HIS MERCY

CHAPTER 9 - CHEROKEE

Macane walked out the bedroom door even more frustrated, he couldn't keep himself in check near her. He would have pushed her down on that bed and fucked her, had his phone vibrating in his pocket not snapped him back to reality. He was relieved to already find both the watchers at his door. The watchers were like guards, no more like hitmen, with multiple weapons and martial art training, at his beck and call. They also could speak 25 languages as well as write and were well-trained to be shadows when needed.

Nodding at the two in greeting, knowing them personally both from previous missions he had sent them on, they were two of his top watchers, "Good Afternoon, I have an asset in the suite of great importance, no one in or out, except you Eliza. My 'asset' can be somewhat difficult and don't underestimate her. Have dinner sent up Eliza, I'll be back soon"

Macane waited until Eliza was securely inside and Josh stationed outside the door before he got into the elevator. Fresh memories tormented him as he stared at the corner where they had their first kiss. Even now he could still taste her lips, feel her skin under his fingers and smell her perfume, berry, and pineapple, this was torture, but sweet fucking torture.

He was out of the lift and opened the door to Murphy's cruiser, looking over at his friend who was now sporting a very irritated look on his face. "Well please take your time" he breathed out annoyingly as Macane buckled in. "Here I thought we were going to kick some ass, but it seems I'm here to see you dragging yours" Murphy smirked over at him. "Drive" was all Macane could manage to say in a low growl as Murphy turned towards the road and quickly made his way through the traffic.

On the way to the warehouse, Murphy had filled him in on the details concerning the detainees, They were child trafficking officers for the syndicate, known as ChiSy, the same fuckers who he and Murphy had hunted for the past months.

This was what he needed, a release, darkness...death.

They made their way into the dark warehouse, which already smelled like piss and vomit. Macane walked over to the barber chair set up in the middle of the room, the table next to it neatly displayed all of his favorite tools, just as he liked it. He turned to the cage at the other side of the room and watched as Murphy pulled one of the detainees towards him and pulled his already limping body towards the chair. Murphy strapped the man into the chair, turned, slapped me on the shoulder, said "Have Fun" and walked over to the door lighting his cigarette, only visible by the red cherry brightening up now and then as he pulled a fresh breath of nicotine into his lungs.

Macane started slowly, introducing himself "Do you know what they call me? The Cherokee...not that I have any Indian American heritage, hell I grew up in the slums on the streets, but its because I enjoy sculpting my guests whilst they are alive, and then if they survive I skin them from head to toe, now don't you wish you could just take back all the fucked up things you did in your life right now... don't you just wished you could go back in time and never have sold those first girls into the trade...I hope you practice some sort of religion because after tonight your meeting your maker" Macane smirked at the man in the chair, who was losing his shit, his face covered in snot, tears, and dirt, the stench of fresh piss clinging to his body.

He slowly, almost lazily shook his jacket from his shoulders, sliding the long surgical gloves over his hands to his elbows and followed by pulling a plastic apron over his head. He picked up the scalpel on the table next to him, loving the sting of the cold metal on his fingers, and slowly pulled it across the man's forehead, the incision starting just below his hairline, the man's face and Macane's hands instantaneously covered in a river of blood, the screams of the man in the chair and a few of those in the cage turned into a melody his mind craved, soothing his dark soul.

Hours later Macane finally killed the last of the men in the cage. Murphy had gotten his answers and the locations of crates full of missing girls. His men already made contact with the police to secure safety for them.

After the long procedure of disposing of the bodies with chemical baths, they made their way back to the penthouse. "So what's your plan with the girl?" Murphy said, pulling to the back of the luxurious 'Lehome'. "I don't know yet, but I'll keep you informed, and her name is Sara not girl," Macane said knowing he sounded a little too defensive, sighing as he pinched his nose with his forefinger and thumb, "Sorry I'm tired" he apologized, he was feeling more at relaxed, but having let his all of his darkness loose on those men took a toll on him, he was tired, hungry and in urgent need of another shower.

He just hoped Sara was already asleep