Break For Him by B. B. Hamel



There’s nothing like unwrapping a new, pretty toy.

Except I couldn’t decide if I wanted to keep her, or kill her.

Maybe a little bit of both.

Rolan pulled the black cotton hood off her head. She blinked, eyes adjusting to the bright white lights shining from the warehouse ceiling. Water dripped down a wall nearby and the concrete floor must have felt freezing under her knees. Crates loomed at the edges of the room. My guys stood around checking their guns and reading magazines. Viktor lit a cigarette and Rolan cracked the seal on a new fifth of vodka.

“What… where am I?”

The girl stared at me. Pretty blue eyes, long brown hair. Her body was tight and slender, her round ass stuffed into a pair of dark jeans, her black shirt cut low enough to show off a hint of her round breasts. Her skin was pale and smooth and I had the absurd desire to see her strip down right then and there in front of my men.

Of course, I wouldn’t do that.

No, I was the jealous type. I didn’t like to share.

“You’re in my warehouse,” I said. “Do you know who I am?”

She squinted. “I have no clue.”

“My name’s Owain.”

“Never heard of you. What’s going on? What are you doing?”

“Your brother heard of me.” I tilted my head and crossed my arms over my chest. “Me and Jason, we knew each other very well.”

I saw her eyes go wide then she sat up on her knees and struggled to compose herself. I had to admit, she did a pretty good job. Her face was almost neutral, though the fear still trickled through.

“How do you know Jason?”

“I was his piggy bank. For a while, anyway.”

Her breath came faster. Her chest rose and fell.

“I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I think you do.” I smiled a little. “It’s always about one thing, especially with Jason. And I’m not talking about the drugs.”

She looked away. I saw the pain in her eyes.

Couldn’t blame her.

Jason died last week. I heard she found him slumped over his desk in the back room of their little store. I could guess how fucked up and hard that must’ve been, but I didn’t really need to.

I had my own memories of finding dead bodies of people I cared about to deal with. I didn’t need hers.

“Money,” she said, her voice soft. She looked down at the floor. “All the money for our store.”

“That’s right, darling.” I smiled and spread my arms again. “You figured it out fast.”

“He was going to you.”

“Bingo. Like clockwork. I’d lend him some money and some drugs, he’d go back to you, and you’d be none the wiser. I didn’t know much about you of course, just that he was in business with you. I had no clue his sister was so hot.”

A flash of something. Anger, maybe? Excitement?

No, definitely anger.

She looked up at me. “I don’t have it. If that’s what you want, I don’t have it. All that money went into the store.”

“I know. You two ran a nice little business. You sold the stuff and designed the shirts, and he ran around town pretending to court investors. Really, he was getting high and begging me to write him checks.”

“Why’d you keep doing it?” She narrowed her eyes. “If you knew he was a junky, why’d you keep giving him money?”

I frowned slightly. It was a good question, I had to admit it.

“I’m an optimist.”

She snorted. “What?”

“I believe all people are good at heart.” I gestured toward my guys. “Look at these men. Do you think they’re good people?”

She opened her mouth then shook her head. “I don’t know them.”

“Come on, boss,” Rolan said. “We’re a bunch of fucking saints, right?”

“These guys are scumbags,” I said. “Rolan especially.”

Rolan laughed. “Fair enough, but if we’re scum, then you’re king of the scum. You’re the scum prince.”

I grimaced. “Not the nickname I want, but okay.”

“I don’t understand.” She sounded desperate and the fear was coming back.

“I thought your brother might be able to make good. Well, no, I didn’t think he could. But I did think you might be able to pull it off.”