Page 106 of The Beast Who Bought Me
We both look at the dead guy. His eyes are open and so is his mouth. “We can’t do anything,” I say after a glance around the room. There’s nowhere to stash him. “We’ll just have to leave him here. Hope they figure he died of…a heart attack or something.”
I expect the Clemenza to argue. It’s a shitty plan and it only gives us a chance to get away, not sleaze around the place looking for someone who knows something. But Caligula just sighs. “Let’s move fast.”
“Right,” I say, relieved he’s seen sense.
“We go straight to Daniel King.”
“What?No.” We’re not on the same wavelengthat all.
But Caligula’s already moving to the door, unlocking it, peeking out to check the hallway. He beckons me over. “Do you know how to get to his office from here?”
“No, I fucking don’t,” I say firmly, but Caligula steps out of the room, fast and slippery like a fish, that stupid silky cloak slipping out of my fingers when I try to grab it.
All I can do is follow and hope we don’t run into anyone who might ask where the Russian Bratva went. Caligula is moving fast, and his chin is lifted in that arrogant damn way he has. Even with a cock cage and a butt plug, the guy’s ego just leaks out all over the place. If anyone lays eyes on him, they’re going to notice.
“Waitup,” I say sharply, jogging the few steps to catch up, and yank him back to my side. “Remember, you’re supposed to be my goddamn property.”
“We need to find King,” he says obstinately.
“We need to take the L and get out of here with our organs still inside our bodies.”
Caligula swerves away down a side corridor before I can pull him through the door back to the main room, and then starts running. I noticed how fast he was that time he was running away from his grandpa’s place, and I’m even more impressed by his speed with what has to be a real uncomfortable plug in his ass. It takes me a few precious seconds to catch up with him, go through that same door, only to find him standing at a dead stopa few feet into the room. I run right into him and have to wrap my arms around him to stop him from getting bowled over.
Ah, shit. We’re in the auction room, at the side. He’s staring at the stage, and I don’t like the look on his face.
At least there’s no one else in here, because Caligula has chosen this moment to start having some kind of panic attack, his breath getting faster even though he’s stopped running. His chest is heaving, and I feel his heart beating where his back is pressed into me. “Calm down,” I snap unhelpfully. “We don’t have time for this.”
And all of a sudden, his breath stops. I let him go, worried he’s about to drop dead, but he’s just caught his breath in a gasp. “Theproxy,” he says, like he’s solved something.
“Huh?”
“During the auction.” He points to his feet. “There was a man standing right here, bidding on behalf of someone else in the room. Someone sitting up there in the dark.” He points to the back of the room. “I couldn’t see them. They had…long hair. That’s all I could see.” He looks up at me expectantly. “Who was it?”
“How am I supposed to know?”
“You walked right by them when you marched down to the stage to bid ten million dollars on me.”
I don’t like the look in his eye or the tone of his voice. I especially don’t like the fact that I’ve got nothing to share, because the only person I noticed in the room that night was Caligula Clemenza, golden and beautiful like some young god, shining in the spotlight.
“I don’t know,” I tell him. “And we need to get out of here.”
“We need to find King’s office and ask who that bidder was.”
He’s got balls, I’ll give him that. “We’re out of time. We’ll find out some other way. Caligula,listen to me—” I grab him by the shoulders. “We. Need. To. Leave.”
I seem to be getting through to him. Or so I think. Then he breaks away from me again and runs back through the door the way we came. I jog after him again, but I don’t think he even knows where he’s going, because we end up back where we started, just outside the room where we left a corpse. He seems to recognize it, too, because he finally pulls up and looks around helplessly. “Everywhere looks the same,” he mutters.
I seize him by the bicep, determined not to let him go this time.
And then my life gets a thousand times worse as Jesse Foster rounds the corner of the hallway, thunder-faced and pouting. He brightens up when he sees us standing there, evil eyes landing on Caligula for only a moment. “Hel-lo, sir,” he says to me with a simpering smile. “I came to see if you and Grisha needed anything…extra.”
He reaches for the door.
I grab him by the arm. “Actually,” I tell him, “Grisha’s taking a minute for himself. Recovering. You know what I mean?”
Foster casts a disdainful glance at Caligula, taking in his messy hair, flushed cheeks, the dried mix of spit and pre-cum still on his chin. Caligula does his best to look downbeat, eyes to the floor, brows pulled together in an expression approaching sorrow. It’s not a great act, but it’s enough to fuel Foster’s malignant little mind. He smiles in satisfaction.
“I’msoglad you were able to find mutual understanding,” he coos. “I’ll just see if he’d like a warm cloth or?—”
