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I cracked my knuckles, knowing it would be easier to beat him to a pulp than break down the door. This was a lesson I wouldn’t have to learn twice. From now on, I would wear a locking holster so no weasel could pick it from my pants when I let down my guard.
As I stepped toward him, he took a whip off the wall. A motherfucking whip.
“Who the fuck do you think you are? Catwoman? You might need some breast implants if you’re trying to pull off that look.”
He wrapped it around his wrist until his knuckles bulged white without blood flow. Worse, he seemed to like it. I glanced at the wall for a toy that I could use as a weapon but didn’t spot one.
“There’s something about a snake whip that just...”
Mercer took a deep breath and let out a chuckle, and then he uncoiled the whip toward me. The tentacle reached out to grab me as I dodged out of the way. I landed on my side before scrambling to my feet.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Sloan?” I demanded.
“Many things,” he conceded. “I would prefer it if you would call me by my Dom name: Snakes.”
I glared at him. “What a stupid name.” But it rang a bell.
He glowered. “Like your stupid shirts.”
“Difference between you and me, asshole? I know mine’re stupid.”
That was the point of my T-shirts and frilly aprons. They got a rise outta people. Perhaps he didn’t realize it, but Mercer had fallen for it too.
I smirked and stroked my beard. “Isn’t it strange how my ridiculous double-entendres give me the tiniest bit of power over those who read them?”
He rolled his eyes and let out a puff of air. “Dumb.”
I shrugged.
Snakes—his name was niggling at me—made a figure eight with the length of the whip, watching the way it unfurled and coiled like hecoveted it. “You see, I’ve earned my name time and time again.”
Mercer cracked the whip next to my ear and I flinched. And it dawned on me. Roni. Celt. This man had to fucking die. But he had the upper hand right now, so I watched the way the leather moved too and prepared to catch it when it came just close enough. Besides, Celt deserved this kill.
“What do you fucking want?” I goaded him. “I’m stuck in here, and you have your whip. You obviously don’t wanna take a ride on my disco stick, so whaddya want?”
He didn’t answer, only swirled the leather throng with fixated fascination written on his face.
I calmed my breathing, though my heartbeat ran wild. I needed to get out of the room, get Maddie, and blow this joint. I would get my revenge on Sloan—Snakes—after I made sure Maddie was safe and I had my gun. Yet I wouldn’t shoot him. Nah, I’d just hand him over to Celt like the stuffed pig he was.
Snakes gathered up his whip again, but then his phone pinged. I didn’t relax as he reached into his pocket and looked at the new message. That sadistic smile transformed into a displeased sneer. He pressed his finger to the screen, and the door clicked unlocked behind me. I backed up a step, but he reared back with his whip.
Pain didn’t scare me. I had been hit many times before, not with a whip but my daddy’s belt. But I had to put Maddie first right now. I couldn’t chase Maddie through Serenity with Sloan on my tail. Gah, how would she react to the thought of being lashed with that sick thing?
“We’re going to my office,” said Mercer, tilting his head.
And before I knew it, the whip snaked around my hands and the end tied itself in a knot. Despite the abrupt lash of the tail and my wrists being bound, I stared at the leather, fascinated with the skill or practice it had to have taken to perfect that move.
Mercer pulled on the handle, tightening the tail against my skin. “For my safety, you’ll understand.”
“For. Fucking. Now.” I glared at him with murder in my eyes. He didn’t account for my feet.
I sank my weight into my thighs, but he gave me a little back andforth shake of one finger. “If you’d like to see your girl again, you will want to come with me.”
Outside the door to his office, Sloan walked inside first, holding the door open to me. I glanced over my shoulder, hoping to see Maddie coming down the hallway. I had tried to spy her in the packed crowd of Serenity but couldn’t find her. I didn’t know where the bathrooms were, and by now, she could’ve been anywhere in the damn club.
“Don’t be shy,” called a man from inside the office, and I stalked inside. Snakes closed the door behind me, but I didn’t hear the lock. Then, he jerked the end of the whip and the wrap around my wrists fell away.
A man sat behind Sloan’s desk with his expensive shoes kicked up on the edge. His black leather shoes were polished, matching the glint from his rings and the buttons on his sports coat. He even had fucking cuff links. What a pompous ass. He screamed money, but I had no idea who he was. He had perfect hair, wore his beard closely cropped, and looked more at ease here than Sloan Mercer.
