Professor Cline: Redeemed (Professor #2) (16 page)

BOOK: Professor Cline: Redeemed (Professor #2)
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Sophia.

She would always be the reason. She had been the one thing that set everything in motion. I hated him for taking all my choices away, for stealing my childhood, for making me hate myself, for destroying any kind of life I could’ve had. Nothing in my life would ever be normal. I was damaged, scarred, broken. But I'd be damned if I let anyone see it, especially these assholes.

I wanted to pull away from Donicko, run out to the car and demand to be taken home, but I couldn't. Whatever they were doing was bound to be another test. A test I wouldn't fail because I wouldn't be involved in it, no matter how hard they pushed me into doing it. I might’ve been John's puppet in his business life, but I'd be damned if Donicko thought he could do the same thing.

We arrived on the second level to a huge open space with a balcony which looked down to the first floor. Those who had gathered parted, letting us walk through, all of them staring at me which I tried to ignore.

I couldn't deny the twisting feeling in my gut that something was going to happen I wouldn’t like, yet again. I kept my eyes forward and followed along, keeping my head up as if I were better than them. Deep down, I knew I was.

Donicko had dropped his arm from around my shoulder when we walked up the stairs, but placed a hand on the one closest to him as soon as we made it to the closed, white door at the other end of the space.

Donicko turned toward the crowd and whistled with his fingers to get everyone’s attention.

"Ten minutes, gentlemen. Then you shall make your bids."

I felt the sweat accumulating on my forehead as I squeezed my hands into fists. I knew what these words meant. I didn't have to go through those doors. I clenched my teeth as I tried to keep myself together. I would not lose it in front of all these people.

I closed my eyes for a brief moment and asked God for strength. I'd never been a religious type of guy, but something was better than nothing at that point. I needed guidance, but I feared I was too lost for any chance of hope.

John opened the door and Donicko ushered me through. What I walked into was a nightmare times a thousand. The entire wing, which should’ve all been separate bedrooms, was see-through Plexiglas with a door to walk through. But that wasn't the part that had my heart pounding out of my chest and my eyes bulging from my head. Each room contained a girl and each girl was tied to the bed, writhing in a mix of pleasure and pain, naked and blindfolded. Exactly how Sophia had been presented to me two years prior.

I looked around, in every room, furious at what was being presented to me.

"What the fuck is this?" I asked through clenched teeth, unable to contain my disgust.

John walked around, peering into every room as I stood there, staring down Donicko.

He chuckled. "You know exactly what this is, boy. Where do you think all those girls went when you did your drop-off, eh?"

I looked down, breaking eye contact and thinking about what he'd just asked me. Where
did
I think they went? I shook my head, answering myself. I
didn't
think about it. I didn't want to know. It made everything too real. It made the monster inside me real. I was doing it for Sophia because it was the only option I'd had, and he was standing there mocking me.

"You're a sick bastard, you know that? Both of you are."

John looked at me then to Donicko and they both laughed. "It's in your blood, boy. The quicker you accept it, the better off you'll be."

I shook my head, furious at his words, and did my best not to hear the moans coming out of the speakers John had just turned on.

"You think you're on top, Donicko, but one day, your pedestal will crumble to the ground. And nobody will be there to build you back up."

He walked the few feet toward me, and a smarter man would have cowered away with the look displayed on his face. He wasn't the kind of man you threatened and yet I did it so easily, without a thought for my own well-being.

Placing a hand on my shoulder, he squeezed it to the point of pain, but I didn't move or show any kind of emotion. He leaned in to me and spoke beside my ear.

"You may think you can one-up me, Mason, but just remember, I'll be one step ahead of you at all times. My pedestal is made of steel, and I won't be knocked down anytime soon."

He pulled back from me and I looked into his cold, heartless eyes with hatred. The cool demeanor he presented to everyone had been knocked down for a mere second, but I saw it. He wasn’t as hard as he’d like everyone to believe.

He and John were a lot alike. They put fear in others to get what they wanted. I’d already found myself victim to their game, but never again. I wouldn’t allow it.

Taking a step back, I looked to John, who had his eyes trained on one of Donicko’s many victims, then back to the man himself.

“I don’t know why you insist on trying to get me to partake in this illegal bullshit. You’re both kidnappers and murderers. I’m nothing like you, and I never will be.”

Donicko laughed. “Who said anything about murder? We’re not murderers, boy. Far from it.”

I scoffed. “You and I both know what will eventually happen to them. You might as well just shoot them now.”

Donicko offered that evil smile he’d mastered so well.

“What would the point be in that, Mason?” he asked, shaking his head. “Then we wouldn’t get paid.”

My lip turned up in disgust. I’d had enough. I’d had enough before I’d even arrived. Turning away from them both, I headed toward the door to leave what I’d forever call The Cell.

“Where do you think you’re going?” John called from across the room.

“Far the hell away from you assholes,” I gibed as I turned the knob and exited the room.

I flew through the hall and made my way down the stairs, ignoring the eyes which followed my every step along the way.

I had no idea what I was doing. I knew not to push Donicko, but there was no stopping the hatred I felt for the man. He wasn’t the number one reason my life had been fucked-up, but he definitely wasn’t a bystander, either.

Fuck him and John.
I would no longer be subject to anything they did ever again. One day, they’d get what was coming to them, and I’d enjoy every minute of it.

 
Twenty

 

Mason

 

I pulled up to the circular drive in front of the red-bricked manor and sat there with my engine running. Memories of the last time I was there plagued my mind. I knew I was psyching myself out; too much time had passed since that night. I highly doubted he’d invite me to his home after all this time to show me the same thing again, but I couldn’t help but wonder what he had up his sleeve.

Without delaying another minute, I cut the engine, got out of my car, and made my way up the stairs leading to the massive white oak door.

Nerves filled my stomach as I knocked and waited for it to be answered. I hated walking into the unknown, but I came prepared, and I couldn’t deny that I was curious to find out exactly what he needed to say.

The door opened and an old man with thinning white hair stood in the entryway.

“Please, come in.” The old man gestured and I walked into my Hell on Earth.

Thoughts of all the women who had been inside these walls entered my mind. I tried not to think that there might be women there, in that very moment, under duress in The Cell while I was about to meet with the man that put them there.

“Right this way, sir.”

We walked through a grand entryway and past the stairs. I noted the décor looked just as it did all those years before, but the manor seemed to have some upgrades. The shabby tile which ran throughout the rooms was replaced with cherry flooring, and the wall color had all been changed.

The old man led me into a living area, and I stopped to look around. The entire room had that ‘old money’ feel. All the décor looked to be ancient.

“Please have a seat. Mr. Black will be with you in just a moment.”

I turned my head to thank the old man, but he’d already left the room.

I glanced down at the couch. I’d debated taking a seat, but resigned that idea. I wanted to be able to leave as quickly as possible at all times.

I stood there waiting for Donicko to arrive and looked over the paintings he had on the walls. One in particular caught my eye; it was very similar to the one Emma had admired in my own home. It was disturbing to see our tastes were similar, but I quickly blocked that from my mind as the devil himself walked into the room.

“Mason, so good to see you.”

He sauntered in, and the air in the room changed. I could feel the dominance flowing off him, and the anxiety I felt prior to my arrival was clawing its way out. It was a weakness I wouldn’t let him see.

“Let’s cut the shit, Donicko. Why don’t you just tell me why I’m here so I can leave?”

“Have a seat, boy.” He gestured to the chair that was angled to the couch, then reached into the cigar box beside him and pulled one out. “Would you like a cigar?” he offered.

“No.”

I reluctantly watched as he grabbed the cigar cutter and clipped the end off, then picked up his lighter and slowly puffed until it was lit to his liking.

He draped an arm on the back of the couch and turned his body to me, getting comfortable like we were old friends.

“Let’s get on with it, shall we?” I prompted.

He blew out smoke and smirked at me.

“So, tell me, Mason. How’s your friend Ms. Blake?”

Anger built in my core at the sound of her name. I capped it down, but there was no hiding the glare I was shooting his way.

“Ms. Blake is none of your concern,” I stated sternly.

“No need to get riled up, son. She really is a lovely woman. I had the pleasure of escorting her to her sister’s office the other day. She’s really quite beautiful.”

I ground my teeth together as I tried to garner the patience I needed to get through this Hell.

“I’d greatly appreciate it if you were to get on to the reason I’m here. You said there’s something you wanted to talk to me about?”

Donicko leaned forward to tap out his cigar then stood.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked, making his way to the liquor he had on the shelf across the way.

I continued to stare at him as he finally went back to his seat.

“I was told some rather interesting information.”

I raised a brow and waited.

“It seems to me that you’re trying to fuck with my empire.”

I furrowed my brow and broke into a sweat, unsure as to how he would even know I’d been thinking of doing anything.

He smiled and chuckled as he placed his glass on the table beside him.

“I can see you’re confused,” he deduced, sitting back in his seat to get comfortable. “Let me just start out by saying John and Victor’s offices are bugged, and one of them has been having some interesting conversations lately.”

I diverted my gaze to stare at the floor, panic building in my core. Donicko wasn’t a man to fuck with and I knew that, but I didn’t want Victor to fall into shit he knew very little about. I should never have gotten him involved, but it was the only thing I could think to do.

“I can see that look in your eye, son, like your hand got caught in the cookie jar.” He chuckled. “I’m actually quite impressed. I figured you would have dropped that innocence act a long time ago, but apparently I was wrong.”

He grabbed his glass and took a drink as we glared at each other.

“It seems to me that, all in all, you’re trying to fuck things up for John. I’ll be honest.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t make me fucking happy, you fucking with my money, but John isn’t the only man I deal with. I’m sure you’re smart enough to know that. I’m not even going to say anything to him about it, because honestly, I don’t care if you fuck him over. He’s run his course anyway.

“I’ve been in this business for a long time, taking it over after my father. And I’ll tell you now, you can’t get to me that way, son, I have every angle covered. My walls are indestructible. You’d need to be a lot smarter to get anywhere close to me.”

“Who’s to say I’m not?”

“If you were, you would have been able to do something by now, but you can’t. I told you a long time ago, I’m always one step ahead of you.” He smirked.

The words made my stomach churn.

“And how exactly is that?” I asked, not really wanting to know.

He sat up in his seat, bracing his elbows on his knees as he entwined his fingers.

“Tell me, Mason, did you enjoy snatching those girls?”

“You know I fucking didn’t,” I growled through clenched teeth.

“Ah, yes, you poor thing. The guilt eats at you, does it?” He tsked. “Tell me, did you feel guilty as you fucked them against the buildings? Knowing they were about to go through their worst nightmare?”

I blinked at him, not able to say a word. He tilted his head at me as if he was honestly curious.

I averted my gaze and stared at the floor, bile rising in my throat at the thought of everything I’d done. The guilt did eat at me. Every. Fucking. Day.

I looked up at him, my lip curved in disgust. “How do you know?”

He laughed at me, as if enjoying my distress.

“You intrigue me, Mason.” He stared at me and pursed his lips, then leaned down to pick up his glass, throwing back what was left before setting it down again. “You fight your natural urges when you should be embracing who you truly are.”

I scoffed. “Fuck you, Donicko. How do you know about the girls?” I knew there weren’t any security cameras. I’d always checked.

That evil smile of his crossed his face. “Do you really think we’d let you out all those times on your own?”

I looked at him, dumbfounded.

“I had men on you at all times. I protect what I’m invested in. I had to make sure you were doing what you set out to do.”

“So, you had them follow me?”

He sat back in his seat again and let out a sigh, as if he was bored. “And record you.”

I turned my head slightly and furrowed my brow. “Excuse me?” I was hoping I’d heard him wrong.

“I have everything. All the time you’d spend in the basement and every single one of your encounters with the girls.”

I sighed and ran a hand down my face. I didn’t know what to say. Fuck, I didn’t know what to think. My hand clenched and unclenched, and I felt the burning sensation in the pit of my stomach spreading throughout my body. I knew what it was, and it didn’t want to be ignored.

“I told you, son, always one step ahead. I was actually impressed with you, too. You were a natural. You took what you wanted, even though you knew it was wrong.”

I didn’t wanting to hear anymore. I stood abruptly, wanting to punch something, and attacked him without a thought.

“You motherfucking piece of shit,” I spat, fisting his shirt and shaking him. “You did this to me. You fucked up my life!”

Donicko’s hands were instantly on mine, trying to claw himself free.

“Why’d you do it? Why me, you son of a bitch?
Why
?”

Donicko broke into laughter as I pushed him further and further into the couch. I stopped and my facial expression went from rage to confusion.

I let go of his shirt and stared at my hands.

What the hell am I doing?

I lifted myself off his still-laughing form and grabbed my head with both hands. I was losing my mind. I had to get out of there.

“You truly are just like your father.”

My face twisted in disgust.

“Fuck you, Donicko, I’m nothing like John.”

He laughed again and shook his head as he straightened his button-up shirt, brushing out the wrinkles my fists had left.

“I told that bastard to tell you a long time ago.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “John’s not your father. I am.”

I shook my head, not believing a word coming out of his mouth.

“What the fuck is this? You’re lying. Don’t you think I’d know if you were my father?”

“Not if you didn’t know the whole story.”

“I don’t need to hear a goddamn story. As far as I’m concerned, John never was my father, and you sure the fuck aren’t, either.” I threw my hands up in defeat. “This whole conversation is bullshit. I’m out of here.”

I took a few steps toward the door when Donicko spoke again.

“You leave when I say you can leave, boy. Sit the fuck down. Now,” he stated calmly but firmly.

I stopped where I was and took a deep breath. I knew I could walk out that door. It wasn’t that far, but deep down I wanted to know. I needed to know the truth, even just for some fucked-up way to torture myself.

I turned slowly and walked back to my seat as Donicko poured himself another drink then made his way back to the couch.

“Let me tell you a story,” he started then threw back the liquid. “Once upon a time, there was a brunette goddess named Amelia. She was perfect in every way. Her skin porcelain and flawless, her eyes were bluer than the sky above. Gentlemen from all over wanted her, but I was the boss and I wouldn’t let her go, even though the bidding went way beyond what I could have ever imagined. She was precious, a gem to possess and cherish. But then, that gem became with child. If the circumstances were different, she might have been more excited about having a baby, but you see, there isn’t much of a life for the child of a sex slave.”

I balled my fists together, digging my short nails into my palms as I tried to contain my anger.

“I still remember when you were born, though. You were a feisty son of a bitch, crying nonstop. You looked just like her, you know. You still do.” He leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. “But alas, you weren’t welcome to stay. My home was no place for a child, so that’s when I contacted John.” He chuckled. “That bitch had been trying for years to have a baby, but she never got pregnant. And when John approached her, she was all too willing to take you. She didn’t look sorry for one moment as she took you from Amelia’s arms.”

I stared at him blankly, trying to absorb the story, something that could quite possibly be real. The words John spoke the day my mother died rang in my ears.

“She wasn’t your mother anyway. She wasn’t your mother anyway. She wasn’t your mother anyway.”

The words kept playing over and over in my mind, and my body went numb. I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to react. What do you say when someone is turning your world upside-down? Telling you the demon you’d been trying so hard to get rid of would be a permanent fixture in your life? There would be no getting rid of that kind of evil.

I’m the devil’s son? Donicko is my father?
I stared at the wall with the painting I’d noticed earlier.

No.

I stood from my seat and tried to tamp down all the feelings flowing through me.

“No,” I mumbled under my breath as I shook my head. Marcella wasn’t like that. She was a kind-hearted, loving woman. She was my mother. I wasn’t going to listen to anything this fucker had to say. “I’m not your fucking son.” I didn’t care if everything coming out of his mouth was the truth. It took more than sperm to make a father.

He smirked. “Oh, but you are, Mason. I think deep down, you know it’s true.”

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