J.R. Ward the Black Dagger Brotherhood Novels 1-4 - J. R. Ward [206]
Another bonus was the financial freedom. The Society gave him everything he needed to do his job, covering the costs of his house, his truck, his weapons and clothes, his electronic toys. He was utterly free to hunt his prey.
Or he had been for the first couple of years. When Mr. X had taken command, that autonomy had come to an end. Now there were check-ins. Squadrons. Quotas.
Visits with the Omega.
O got in the shower and washed the crap out of his hair. As he toweled off, he went back to the mirror and peered at his face. His irises, once brown like his hair, were turning gray.
In another year or so, everything that used to be him would be gone.
He cleared his throat. “My name is David Ormond. David. Ormond. Son of Bob and Lilly. Ormond. Ormond.”
God, the name sounded weird as it left his mouth. And in his head, he heard Mr. X’s voice referring to him as Mr. O.
A tremendous emotion swelled in him, panic and sorrow combined. He wanted to go back. He wanted…to go back, to undo, to erase. The deal for his soul had only seemed good. In reality, it was a special kind of hell. He was a living, breathing, killing ghost. No longer a man, but a thing.
O dressed with trembling hands and jumped into his truck. By the time he was downtown, he was no longer thinking logically. He parked on Trade Street and started walking the alleys. It took some time before he found what he was looking for.
A whore with long, dark hair. Who, as long as she didn’t flash her teeth, looked a little like his Jennifer had.
He slipped her fifty bucks and took her behind a Dumpster.
“I want you to call me David,” he said.
“Sure thing.” She smiled as she undid her coat and flashed her bare chest. “What do you want to call—”
He clamped a hand over her mouth and started to squeeze. He didn’t stop until her eyes were popping.
“Say my name,” he commanded.
O released his grip and waited. When all she did was hyperventilate, he took out his knife and pressed it into her throat.
“Say my name.”
“David,” she whispered.
“Tell me that you love me.” When she hesitated, he pricked the skin of her neck with the tip of the blade. Her blood welled up and slid down the shiny metal. “Say it.”
Her sloppy breasts, so unlike Jennifer’s, pumped up and down. “I…I love you.”
He closed his eyes. The voice was all wrong.
This just wasn’t giving him what he needed.
O’s anger rose to an uncontrollable level.
Chapter Sixteen
Rhage heaved the barbell up from his chest, teeth bared, body shaking, sweat pouring off him.
“That’s ten,” Butch called out.
Rhage set the load back on the stand above him, hearing the thing groan as the weights rattled and fell still.
“Add another fifty.”
Butch leaned over the bar. “You got five-twenty-five on there already, my man.”
“And I need another fifty.”
Hazel eyes narrowed. “Easy, Hollywood. You want to shred your pecs, that’s your business. But don’t take my head off.”
“Sorry.” He sat up and shook out his burning arms. It was nine in the morning, and he and the cop had been in the weight room since seven. There wasn’t one part of his body that wasn’t on fire, but quitting was a long way off. He was shooting for the kind of physical exhaustion that went into the bone.
“Are we there yet?” he muttered.
“Let me tighten the clamps. Okay, good to go.”
Rhage laid back down, hoisted the barbell off the stand, and let it rest on his chest. He marshaled his breathing before pumping the weight.
Stray. Dog.
Stray. Dog.
Stray. Dog.
He controlled the load until the last two reps, when Butch had to step in and spot.
“You finished?” Butch asked as he helped settle the bar on the stand.
Rhage sat up and panted, resting his forearms on his knees. “One more set of reps after this break.”
Butch came around in front, twisting the shirt he’d taken off into a rope. Thanks to all the lifting they’d been doing, the male’s chest and arm muscles were thickening up, and he hadn’t