Becoming His Slave (19 page)

Trenton had to remind himself that Katianna had few things, even after four years she had kept her life simple, her tools for her writing were her most valued items and he was taking one of them away. Even for a day was enough for her to fret over, so he made a mental note to make sure he delivered on his promise to have the new phone delivered the next afternoon with all her data plus a few additions like twenty different ways to get in touch with him—his cell, his office, the truck, the club, his house and all his brothers, the precinct and other various emergency numbers. Along with internet services with apps for nearly every online dictionary, thesaurus and Wikipedia reference source she could imagine. He would do that for her compliance. For her

~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~

Trenton had one of his men take Katianna home. While he would preferred to have done so himself to enjoy the time with her, he had too much on his desk to walk away from, that and he wanted to know what Kirshnov was up to.

He buried himself in the task of reviewing the bidder applications for the upcoming auction, but when he pulled open the next folder and discovered a request form from none other than
Vedoucí,
Nikolai Kirshnov, all his previous concerns flooded back at him and doubled. There was trouble on the horizon.

A few years back Kirshnov had all, but disappeared from the New York area, but growing suspicions suggested he was back in operations when the bodies of women began to show up at random—beaten to death during the abuse they had suffered.

Trenton managed to get Harper poking his nose around down at the precinct on the case, under the jib to assure himself it wasn’t his
perp
, but the info Harper brought back was certain the girls had undergone multiple lacerations from canes and other items not considered acceptable. Wrists and ankles had been bound, throats choked, mouths gagged and they had been sexually penetrated with a number of alien objects. Trenton’s stomach wretched as he read the reports Harper brought to him. Five girls in just eight months and it had come to no surprise when Detective Tate Marshal finally paid him and Dane a visit to ask a whirlwind of questions.

Trenton assured Marshal this was not bdsm, this was pure madness and evil, such behavior was never tolerated. In the proper world of B&D it was art and it held a lot of rules of restraint and care.

And it was why it pissed him off something terrible when he saw Kirshnov’s application come in. No way was he going to let the son of a bitch be allowed to bid on any of the Slaves at his auction. Kirshnov had to of known his application would be rejected and all the more reason to go on red alert when the man showed up talking with Amelia and Katianna.

Trenton could feel the rage choking in his veins, like that feeling he would get just before being sent out for a black ops mission. Antsy to the point of being nauseous and trigger happy.

Trenton pushed off from his desk and headed down the hall towards the back door that would take him to the gun range. He just couldn’t sit idle at his desk a second longer; he needed to expel some energy.

“Hey where you going?” He heard Marcus call out for him as he passed the door to his office.

Trenton ground to a halt and backed up a few steps and poked his head in. “Shoot off a few rounds.”

“Dane just called said he was on his way over to help you finish off those apps before you left for Paris. And wanted to go over the security for the event.”

Trenton thumbed his nose then scratched at his head. “I gotta shoot something, I’m gonna crawl out of my skin if I don’t—just send him back will ya?”

Marcus gave him a nod, but tapped his desk with the pen held in his fingers, “You want me to switch out Amelia’s limo with one of the SUV’s? Put some extra steel around her?”

Trenton shook his head with a grudging expression, “She won’t go for it. She likes the armored Lexus. No way you’ll get her in one of the Excursions not even one of the Cadies.”

Marcus shifted back in his desk chair, turning more thoughtful on the matter, but was distracted when his phone rang, “Go ahead, I’ll send Dane your way when he gets in.”

Trenton continued off through the back doors that put him out on the stairs that lead down to the gun shop below. He spotted Diesel up front at the counter and went down to join him. Stepping behind the counter, Trenton helped himself to access one of the cabinets and pulled out two laser gun mounts that they used for the virtual programs.

“Hey Bro—I was half expecting you’d pay a visit today.”

“Yeah—” Trenton scrubbed his face with his hand then pulled one of the gun drawers from the back wall out to eye the choices. He was in the mood for something heavy in his hand. He ended up with the Dragon Mark large caliber 357 and a Tavor submachine gun. “Say you got time to start up the gauntlet room?” Trenton asked over his shoulder while he started fitting the laser receptors to the two guns he’d selected.

“Yeah? You wanna do—
can’t see shit
—or—
all hell’s breakin’ loose
?”

“Just the
can’t see shit
program, I don’t need to get myself worked up more than I already am.”

“You got it. Let me get this guy rung up here and I’ll have it up for you by the time you get back there and into position.” Diesel shot a glance over his shoulder as Trenton took off down the hall, noticing he didn’t take the night goggles with him. “Hey you forgot the night vision!” He called out for him.

“Not using it!” He heard Trenton shout back.

Diesel shook his head “Don’t wanna get worked up… my ass.” He mumbled as he rang up the purchase for the man at the counter, “That’ll be three-twenty and thirty five cents.” He shifted his attention to the computer monitor on the counter and pulled up the icon for the training room while his customer was fiddling with his credit card, “Yeah just sign the pad and we’re done.” His right hand tapped an
accept
icon on his register computer screen then pushing the gun purchase in its box over to its new owner while his left hand started up a program software on the computer. “Give me a shout when you got some time to come in and shoot a few rounds with that, Bob.”

“Sure will Diesel. Thanks. Have a good one.” The man tipped a farewell at him then headed out.

No sooner that Diesel had the training program started up and the review monitors up on the screens, Dane was coming down the steps. “Hey Deez, Marcus said Trenton was back here.”

Diesel pointed to the monitors on the wall behind him with a raised brow. Six tv sized screens set flush in the wall showed the interior of the virtual training room from various angles. Each one just powering up with an image of their brother stepping into place at the end of the training room.

“Yeah?” Dane’s eyes brightened like a kid who’d just been given access to the latest gaming program, “How far is he?”

“Just starting.”

Dane scampered up beside him and the two zeroed in on the screens to watch.

Trenton rolled his shoulders and let out a long hard breath. As he waited for the program to start up. Diesel had spent years designing the program, a sort of glorified horror house—half virtual imagery, half pop out targets including repositioning props and walls. Thus the name
the Gun Gauntlet
and Diesel had spent a pretty penny building the damn thing, but it had been well worth it. Paying itself off when he picked up a contract for it with the army and with the local police. Gotta love those military and gov’t contracts.

The room darkened and Trenton could hear footsteps coming around, a click of heels—he backed up—keeping the Tavor holstered to his thigh, the Dragon357 gripped in both hands and setting his aim partially positioned ready to react, but low enough not to act too soon. The clicking of heels drew closer. Should be a lady in heels coming home from work or a working girl on the beat. And sure enough a hologram of a working girl slid across the wall like an apparition.

“You looking for some sugar?
” The image asked him in a haunting tone, but kept on walking across the screen.

Boots pounding the pavement on the opposite side of the room. A blast of air at his side to pull him off focus. He jumped, but kept his eyes forward, his gun up and fired just as the booted figure came into sight. The working girl apparition screamed, the sound of her heels running on pavement drawing away, but the other—a hooded scrawny man had fired at him. A flash and then the room grew darker with images of smoke or fog making it even harder to see—now Trenton had to listen—had to rely on instinct.

But when you can’t see—and the mind is troubled, that trouble has a way of haunting your thoughts.

The echo of a cell phone had him spinning around, an image of someone behind him
“Whoa its cool dude.”
The apparition spoke to him. The screeching of a car coming up and some noise drawing close behind him.

No, car first. It came into sight and Trenton could see the silhouettes of the machine guns inside the vehicle —he aimed.

Tire
—
grill
—
driver
.

Three shots went out taking his mark and the noise filled the room with a car wreck. What was it behind him? Like a shuffling sound, he ducked just as gun shots sounded over his head. But another phone call was in his head, one not in the program—
what was it?

…
Remember the case I’m working on
—
yeah
—
there’s been another hit
—
you need some guys I’ll back you up
—
it was that writer friend of yours
—

The room went black again, a flash and the virtual scenery changed. Trenton’s attention swiveled around the room mapping it out as physical walls pushed out from the main parameter creating a labyrinth and shots were firing right off the bat—he ducked—and rolled, but heard the buzz.

 
“Target strike. Upper body portion.”
A computer voice announced overhead.

“Shit” Trenton cursed. The computer program scanners detected he most likely took a shoulder hit. “Stay focused.” He muttered to himself—but shook his head he was focused—too focused—it just wasn’t the room he was tuned in on.

… So what is this
—
What’s what
—
This
—
Just got this feeling
—
What feeling Trenton this isn’t like you. You don’t get fixated on women. You pick them out play with them awhile
—

The room filled with the sounds of a mob drawing close, a group of punk kids. They were using the alley way to make their voices bounce and echo to throw off their position—Trenton kept his eyes alert his ears pricked.

A click. Trenton spun pulling the sub gun from its holster and open fired taking out three targets with a spray of laser assimilated bullets.

… Whoa
—
Red
—
dangerous territory dude
—
your thinking she’s the one aren’t ya
—

Trenton dropped rolling to his back just as an apparition image came darting out from behind the hard contact of a dumpster that rolled into his path. He brought up the 357 and fired.

The virtual scene in the room changed out again and more fog filled the air around him. A steady vibrating hum like machinery filled the whole room, filling his ears. His chest vibrating with the noise. He needed to kick in his instincts to break past the enveloping white noise, but still his thoughts had him off balance.

The threat of Kirshnov making a public appearance. He spoke to Katianna, zeroed in on her—
Kirshnov
. He was a serious threat, one that Trenton couldn’t ignore and he couldn’t deal with it. Four years he kept himself away to give Katianna time. Let her have the space she needed to find some independence so she could make that choice he would soon ask her to make, but with Kirshnov prowling around—it would kill him if anything happened to Kat. How would he protect her without rushing her?

… Fantasies Trenton
—
There just fucking fantasies
—
They’re not real
—
No
—
I won’t give them up
—
It’s all I have ever wanted and she will be the one to fill my needs.
—
I just have to give her time
—

No. There had to be a way to still ease her into his life and still protect her. But he’d kept so much from her, sheltered her from knowing just how deep his desires went—to what it really meant when he was called the Dominus. He couldn’t just throw her into all that.

… Because Trenton Leos
—S
he’s not. Your. Type
—

Yes she was. She was perfect for him—perfect to surrender to him. He’d had a taste of it when they were at the expo.

… Are all your baths as beautiful to watch
—

A spot of red flickered on the wall he was being targeted, laser scope. Trenton lunged from his tucked hiding spot, came to his feet aimed and took out his target—another behind him—he turned—

Click
—

“Shit!” He was out of rounds. He hadn’t kept count, didn’t tap the laser scope on his gun to indicate he was reloading. The enemy shot was at zero point range, a red flash from a light over head lit up on his chest.

 
“Target hit. Fatal.”
 The computer tallied him as a goner.

And he was. His head dropped, his chin to his chest, and he stood there just letting his thoughts torment him further.

… Let me show you just how beautiful you really are
—
You’ve stolen much more from me
—
Please I hardly think I’m worth your time
—
Oh I think you are
—

He heard the door to the room open. He should have known better then to do this to himself. He holstered his gun and ran a hands over his hair and head, before letting himself face the man who’d come to confront him.