Sins of a Bad Boy (The Original Bad Boys Book 1) (15 page)

“Not by my hand, Ivy. I was trying to help her. That man hurt her,” he clarified, hoping to placate her.

Once more, stillness, but William was already following where the sound of her voice had come from.

Rounding another corner, he saw her standing down the corridor, her palm touching the wall as she inched forward.

“I’m scared!” she shrieked.

Why did she scream?
He was standing in plain sight at the opposite end of the hall.

“Ivy, don’t be scared.” He held up both palms.

It seemed as if she was looking straight through William as he closed the distance. When he met her halfway, she finally noticed him, and her entire body tensed. She pivoted on her heel and ran back.

William was right behind her, trying to grab her arm, but she was quick. In the next attempt, he caught her elbow, pulling her back against him as he forced her to slow down and pushed her against the wall.

Ivy’s skin was cold as she drew in irregular breaths. Blinking profusely, her eyes were completely red and teary, and she was shaking on unsteady legs.

Since the day he’d taken her, he’d never seen her this upset.

“Shhh... Calm down.” He combed back her curls that were plastered to the side of her sweaty face and swiveled her around. “Why did you run? There’s nowhere to go and you know it!”

“Oh my god! You expect me to stay put when I witness three men hovering over a dead body?! What the hell is this place? And I was stupid enough to start trusting you.”

“This place is exactly what I told you,” he pointed out. “It’s purely a sex club. Clients are not allowed to kill women, if that’s what you’re assuming. If you’d bothered to eavesdrop a bit longer instead of running away, you’d have heard us discussing how to handle this situation.” William had no idea why he even explained this to her; she was his captive and just needed to do as told.

She beat her fists against his chest, and he was perplexed at her violent reaction.

“What are you doing to me?! You don’t understand!” she was crying while rambling. “I hate the dark!”

Then Ivy sagged against the wall, mumbling incoherent sentences.

All the while, William stood, staring down at her, completely lost as to how to approach her. This was the first time she’d broken down since he’d taken her. A small part of his conscience screamed at him to comfort her, yet he ignored it. He scratched his brow, wondering how to handle this.

Eventually, he spoke through gritted teeth. “Get up!”

In response, she cried even louder and curled into herself.

Okay, so the tough approach clearly didn’t work. So William swung her into his arms and carried her back. In his embrace, her cries subsided until she went still.

He was tormented about whether to return to Sins or go to the elevator to take Ivy up to his apartment and drop her off. He convinced himself that in her state, it would be unwise to leave her alone. Only because he was worried she might hurt herself or trash his apartment, and he still needed her.

So he strode back to Sins, furious at her for running. Furious at himself for allowing her the intimacy earlier and for letting her get under his skin.

Well, no more.

CHAPTER 16

At the door that would take them back into Sins, William placed Ivy on her feet.

She was indifferent now – no sobbing.

Good, because they both needed this reminder of their respective positions. Sex between them was complicating the situation too much.

“Stay here. I’ll be back in a second. If you move an inch, I’ll drag you back in naked,” he threatened and didn’t wait for an answer before he burst into the club.

William yanked the sheet from their bed, returned to Ivy at the door, and draped it over her shoulders. She anchored the edges underneath her arms and started wrapping it around her naked body.

“I can do it myself,” she snapped and tucked in one end between her breasts.

She looked much too appetizing wearing only the sheet and the dirty look she aimed at William. He preferred her hard exterior over her crying and vulnerability any day.

William gripped her wrist and hauled her inside to the bar at the center of the room where Charles and Silk were standing and Dechamps was seated on a stool.

Charles spoke up first, pure sarcasm directed at Ivy. “Glad you could join us again.” Then he asked William, “What did she witness?”

Ivy hid behind William, clutching the sheet as he held her wrist.

“Too much. She saw everything we saw,” William answered.

Everyone was silent while Charles scowled at both William and Ivy.

Silk forced Dechamps to drink another glass of water. The fluid, coupled with the shock of the murder, had sobered him up a little.

Charles perked a brow. “What do you suppose we do, Dechamps? You murdered a girl in my club. I should go to the police.”

“No! You can’t do that, Charles.” He stole a peek at Ivy. 

William scolded, “She already knows what you did, so don’t you dare glare at her. This is
your
mess!” And he blocked Ivy from Dechamps’s line of sight. 

Dechamps was at a loss for words.

William continued, “
We
will clean up your mess.”

Dechamps straightened, astonished.

“But...it will come with a price,” William added and held Charles’s eyes for a second. 

Taking his cue, Charles carried on, “You’ll need to provide Sins with liquor.”

Dechamps nervously stared from William to Charles. “How much liquor? And on what basis?”

“Five crates, weekly,” William replied. “And you will arrange it however you see fit,
but
we won’t pay you a cent.”

“What?! That’ll cost me a fortune!” Dechamps argued.

William cocked his head. “Did you think covering up a murder would come cheap?”

“She was just a common whore,” Dechamps retorted.

Charles calmly countered, “She was a human being you killed for your own sexual perversities. Whore or not, if I report this, you’ll be tried and sentenced. Your political connections won’t help you at all; not with a scandal of this proportion. Your Jeremy’s fighting career will be over before he could ever reach the top because he’ll live in shame.”

William released Ivy’s wrist, and he felt her tense up behind him. Her chest pressed against his back while she watched the exchange with a look of utter disbelief.

 “We”—William pointed to Silk, Charles, Ivy, and himself—“are all witnesses of how you choked that poor woman.”

Dechamps bolted up from the stool. “You didn’t witness a thing.”

That was true, and William would never have gone to the police, because that would bring too much unwanted attention to their establishment; however, he would use this to his advantage. “But an autopsy will back up our story. Don’t forget that I have the body. You may choose. Do I send Silk to the police department with you, or shall we get rid of the body together?”

Dechamps rubbed a palm over his forehead, then scrubbed his face in agitation, knowing he didn’t have much of a choice. “Fine. Five crates, every week. How do I know you all will keep your end of the bargain?”

“You don’t,” Charles stated. “I guess that’s a risk you must take now.”

Dechamps’s profile hardened even more, but he kept his mouth closed.

Charles held out his hand to Dechamps to seal the deal. Dechamps shook it and then shook William’s hand.

“We need to dump the body right away,” Silk finally spoke up. 

Charles instructed, “William, go upstairs and get dressed. Dechamps get your clothes from the bed and dress as well. We meet back here in ten minutes.”

Silk went with Dechamps as William took Ivy’s hand and headed back to the entrance they came through earlier. But before they stepped out, he said, “Wait here for a moment.”

And he hurried back to Charles to confirm that they were on the same page. “I’ll restrain Ivy in my apartment, even though, at the moment, I don’t want to leave her alone for a second. She’s volatile and has proven to be resourceful, but we can’t take her with us.”

“Yes, cuff her to your bed or something sturdy. We don’t want her to know the location of where we dispose of the body.”

Charles looked at Ivy and spoke loudly enough for her to hear. “You’re an accomplice now.” 

She didn’t baulk, which surprised William. It also surprised him that she bit back a retort. Sometimes, she was too feisty for her own good, yet other times, she was intelligent in discerning whether or not to keep her mouth shut.

Desperate to end this horrible night, he dragged her through the halls, toward the elevator.

Inside, he turned his back to her.

The tension could be cut with a knife.

“William.” Her voice held only a hint of a tremble.

William inhaled deeply but didn’t respond.

She persisted, “William, at some point, you’ll need to talk to me. You can’t avoid me, since
you
kidnapped
me
. What the hell is going on? You scare me, you fuck me, you and Charles involve me in your schemes, yet you haven’t said another word about the money you think I supposedly stole. Do you even still know why you took me?”

William clenched and unclenched his fist. Even during fights, he didn’t feel as worn out as he did during his dealings with this woman – it was starting to grate on his nerves.
She
had talked to someone during the fight then lied to him, forcing him to take drastic measures with the Dom and Morgan, then after
she
fucked him,
she
ran. His mind was wrecked. He whirled around, and she retreated a step in reaction to the unbending lines of his profile. But in typical Ivy fashion, she stood there stoically, doing her best to conceal her anxiety from him.

Nevertheless, it was too late. He preyed on her fear. Keeping in line with his earlier promise to himself, he needed to redirect and end whatever had been going on between them. His fury about this entire night helped him achieve that goal.

William inched forward until his chest almost brushed her knuckles that were holding the sheet clutched around her naked body. He covered her hands with his and pried them apart, letting the sheet fall to the floor.

Bracing each of his palms against the wall on either side of her head, he whispered, “I’ll talk when I want to. I’ll fuck you when I want to. And trust me, Ivy, I know exactly why you’re here.
You
are the only one who’s in the dark.”

A frown appeared for a second, but she held her ground, meeting his scowl with red-rimmed eyes that betrayed her rampaging emotions. “I’m not in the dark. I know more about you and your business now. That means I’m more of a danger to you and Charles. You can threaten me by calling me an accomplice, but I’m merely a witness.”

The elevator stopped, and as William opened it with his key, he spoke with his back to her. “Oh sweet Ivy, clearly you still haven’t figured out how I can bend things to my will. I can make it seem like you were an
accomplice
. Hell”—he went inside his apartment and extended his arm, dramatically motioning her in—“I can even make it appear that
you
killed her.”

She treaded inside, and he pushed her forward.

“I’d think that after all this time, you wouldn’t be stupid enough to underestimate me anymore,” he said.

Finally, she shut up as they swept inside his bedroom, and William forced her to the bed with his hands on her hips.

“Lie down.” He took one end of the cuff, the other attached to the bedpost.

“No! Why restrain me? I can’t go anywhere anyway!” she protested but did lie down.

He ignored her and clicked it shut around her wrist.

Quickly, he went to his dresser and grabbed a shirt and slacks to throw on while she kept yapping.

“You have no idea what kind of trouble you’re creating for yourself. Do you and Charles even think about what’s going to happen after I’m free? Or do you just do whatever Charles says?”

He craved to reply. Though, using all his strength, he discounted her derision and left without a backward glance.

Secretly, William realized he had to be away from her – for his own sanity.

He wanted this night to be over and done with.

***

Forty-five minutes later, an inconspicuous carriage left the Loop. Silk and William had wrapped the body in plain white linen sheets while wearing gloves, and it lay on the floor in the carriage.

Charles decided to go with a carriage instead of his vehicle because the car made too much noise and might attract unwanted attention.

Now, three men, Charles, William, and Dechamps, were in a black wagon as Charles led the horses through a deserted and murky Grant Park at two a.m., rolling along the lakefront trail close to the shoreline, toward the Dusable Harbor dock.

The lighthouse illuminated the pier, much to William’s chagrin, but this was the smartest place to get rid of a body, never to be found again. 

No one was in sight as Charles stopped at the end of the pier.

William stepped out and gripped her ankles. “Hold her shoulders.” And added, “Hurry!” Exasperated when Dechamps hesitated. 

“Okay! Okay!” Dechamps did as told, and they lifted the corpse out, laying her on the edge of the pier as the wind howled ominously in the night.

“Charles, get me the weights.” 

Charles dipped inside the carriage and came out with two eleven-pound weights that William positioned inside the sheet, knotting it closed again as Charles kept a watchful eye for any movements or witnesses, and Dechamps was utterly useless, just gaping at William’s ministrations.

“Help me throw her into the water, Dechamps.”

Again, William held her feet as Dechamps raised her shoulders and grunted underneath the weight.

They swayed the body back and forth three times. 

“One, two, three, go,” William counted off.

And they both threw the body. It flew from their hands and fell into the water with a deep plunge, sinking in. The current would drag her into the depths of the lake, and she would never resurface.

Without a word, the men rapidly returned to the Loop where Dechamps left Charles and William’s establishment in his own carriage.