Violent Angel (Pretty Broken Things #1)

1. Chapter One

Chapter One

Present day

D emure…I must appear demure.

Lips twitching, Elliot lowered his gaze, careful not to lose pace with Gerard as his boss worked the crowd in the snazzy, upscale LA club. Not a single person behind those fake smiles understood the meaning of the word, except maybe a few of the trophy wives with the blank stares. Tonight, he was more of an object than any of them.

In the fucked up role he played, anyway. At the end of the night, his mask would come off.

Those poor women had to live with theirs on, twenty-four-seven.

Catching sight of a slight brunette in an almost transparent silver gown, Elliot slowed at her poorly concealed wince. On a leather couch in one of the VIP sections, a beefy bastard held her arm in a visibly painful grip as she attempted to stand, jerking her back to her seat while he continued his conversation with the man across from him.

Palming the blade tucked in his sleeve, Elliot turned.

Big hand curving around the back of his neck, Gerard leaned in close. A strand of black hair broke free of his low ponytail, brushing Elliot’s cheek as he spoke. “Eyes on the target, mot?nel. If he’s still around when we’re done, I’ll give you a freebie. No credits for cleanup.”

“Deal.” Elliot stashed the blade and bit back a grin, his whole body buzzing with anticipation.

This job had taken months to plan, and prolonged inaction always put him on edge. Unlike a few of the other guys, he sucked at recon and research, and going undercover for more than a night had him dropping enough bodies to eat through whatever he earned.

Cops weren’t cheap to pay off around here, not with so many willing to line their pockets. And Elliot still wasn’t great at covering his tracks.

Good thing I don’t plan on retiring anytime soon.

He’d be paying off his debts to Gerard from his grave if he didn’t cool it, but at least this job should make a nice dent.

“What had you so amused, anyway?” Gerard didn’t move his hand from where it had settled at his nape, like he didn’t entirely trust Elliot not to slip away. Granted, in a crowd like this, with so many distractions jerking his focus this way and that, Elliot might’ve gone on a side quest if his handler wasn’t practically glued to his leather-clad hip. The man knew him well. “You don’t usually smile until someone’s bleeding. I figured your brother being here, even on a short leash, would make things worse.”

Huffing out a laugh, Elliot slid a covert glance toward the other half of their team. Gerard’s second-in-command, Virgil, had chosen the VIP section overlooking the dance floor. There was a long leather sofa, bracketed by two leather armchairs, with a round black coffee table and matching end tables to complete the space.

Plenty of room for both Virgil and Lux to get comfortable, since no one else was in their area.

But, as usual, Lux had convinced the older man to let him snuggle up on his lap.

Anyone else getting that close to the little brother he’d claimed would have Elliot up there, carving the man into little pieces. But he trusted Virgil with Lux. The hardened assassin had a soft spot for the touch-starved trainee and they both knew the flirting wouldn’t go anywhere.

Even with Lux dressed in snug white booty-shorts and a white mess shirt, his platinum curls giving him an almost angelic vibe—minus that naughty smile and his constant come-hither stare—Virgil looked like a big bear letting a kitten purr and crawl all over him. The two could pull off the perfect act of Lux being Virgil’s sex slave, but in reality, Virgil had no interest in anyone except the hard, cold man playing the same role with Elliot tonight.

Studying Lux for a moment, making sure he was really relaxed and not just pretending, Elliot gave a satisfied nod before glancing over at his handler. “He doesn’t need a leash.”

Gerard let out a dry laugh, smoothing down his black tie before straightening the collar of his gunmetal gray shirt, the subtle adjustments the only indication of how uncomfortable he was in the expensive suit. “If you believe that, you’re not paying enough attention. Take a look around. Unless we want even more bodies to clean up at the end of the night? Yes, he does.”

Blocking out the noise and the blinding light flashing over the gyrating mass on the dance floor, Elliot narrowed his focus to individuals positioned strategically around the room, clearly not here for a night of clubbing. He and Lux weren’t the only ‘objects of interest’ on display, but the buyers barely acknowledged the others.

Over by the bar, three men were having a heated conversation as they polished off shots of top shelf spirits and puffed on cigars, their hungry gazes slowly creeping over Lux, like slugs leaving a trail of slime along every inch of bare skin. Another man stood alone near the dance floor, his predatory stare holding a more dangerous edge, as though he wouldn’t be happy getting whatever ‘prize’ he won naked.

All around the room, Elliot spotted more like them, and pinned their images to the mental pressboard in his mind. The marks his team were here for, two high profile sex traffickers, hadn’t come out yet, but Gerard had talked up several of their close contacts.

They’d show their faces when the party really began.

Elliot hadn’t wanted Lux here at all, not with so many predators under one roof, but at twenty-years-old, his little brother was done letting him or anyone else keep him out of the action. If he wasn’t assigned jobs like this, he’d go off on his own, again , and next time, Elliot might not catch up in time to avoid him getting seriously hurt.

So he had to hope Virgil’s invisible ‘leash’ would be enough to steer Lux in the right direction.

And be present enough himself to make sure his little brother got nothing but scraps to play with when the bodies began to fall.

The lights around the bar flickered twice, a signal only those attending for the main event would understand. All the men Elliot had pinned as potential buyers moved almost as one, expressions a mix of determination, eagerness, and…something darker. A depraved, unhinged kind of hunger, as though they were pigs around a fresh corpse, ready to feed.

Worse than animals.

Barely human.

Yeah, none of them looked human to Elliot from the second he saw them for what they really were. He had no problem taking down bad people, but depraved beasts men who got hard at the thought of abusing someone helpless?

Ending them is an absolute fucking pleasure.

At the other end of the club, past the bar and the dance club, was a set of double doors, hidden by a heavy red curtain a bouncer pulled aside after checking the name of each man who approached off a list. Moving closer with Gerard, Elliot eyed two more bouncers opening the doors. Took note of the lumps breaking the smooth lines of their plain black suits. There was likely more muscle inside, armed to the teeth, just like them.

Since Elliot obviously couldn’t fit his own weapons in the outfit meant to expose all his best assets—a purple, skin-tight leather jumpsuit with strategically placed zippers—he needed an idea of where to get his hands on some.

The hired thugs would be very helpful in that regard.

A light squeeze at his nape from Gerard reminded him of his role—which didn’t include side-eying the muscular bouncers he should be afraid of—and he dropped his gaze to the polished, dark wood floor. Past the curtains and the double doors were several long, curved, red leather sofas already half occupied, surrounding a round raised platform, clearly serving as a stage. The other ‘slaves’ were being lined up, moving like zombies with barely any strength left to drag around their dolled up corpses.

They didn’t know their suffering was almost over, but when they did?

Then came his favorite part—aside from all the killing, anyway.

When a victim got their first taste of freedom.

But for now, their lifeless submission was needed. It meant the attention would be easy to draw away from the captives to where his team would be in full control.

Making sure no one was looking, Elliot slid his handler a crooked grin.

“Demure.”

Gerard’s brow creased, irritated confusion stealing across his hard features. “What?”

“You asked why I was amused.” Elliot spoke under his breath, keeping his eyes down. “I was thinking about your conversation with Lux about the whole trend. How pissed off you were that you didn’t get it.”

Grunting, Gerard guided him along a narrow hallway, slowing as they reached the private lounge, which was bigger than the part of the club accessible to the public. “I still don’t, but he spoke more than five words. Can’t complain, even if it’s about something ridiculous.”

A soft sound of agreement was Elliot’s only reply. He still worried about his little brother—Lux stopped speaking until his late teens, despite the blood credits Elliot dumped into all kinds of therapy. Adding to his debt would’ve been worth it if a damn thing had helped, but in the end, only letting Lux train brought him out of his shell.

That and him spending more time with coldblooded killers.

Elliot had wanted a normal life for his brother, had desperately tried to build one for him, but there’d never been a real chance of ‘normal’ for either of them. A sense of security, some control over their own lives, and a purpose had to be enough.

Everything Gerard offered sixteen years ago.

For a price. One I was more than willing to pay.

Lux making the same choice fucked with him, but it was too late to change anything.

They were both in way too deep.

Behind them, Virgil spoke softly to Lux in Romanian, his tone reassuring. Lux didn’t answer, but rapid movement got Elliot turning, barely catching the white blur of his little brother darting away before he disappeared out of sight.

Virgil’s big body blocked him before he could follow, and his light brown eyes met Gerard’s, even as he addressed Elliot, keeping up the act—though he didn’t switch to English. “He needs a minute. I sent him to the bathroom.”

Inclining his head, Gerard stayed Elliot with a firm grip on his arm, still using Elliot and Lux’s native tongue. “You can go check on him, but let’s not have both of you running off. We can sell him being a bit spirited, but you should be—”

“Demure?” Elliot ducked the cuff Gerard aimed at the back of his head. He effortlessly switched from English to Romanian. “What? It's my new favorite word.”

“Find another one. I’m charging you a grand every time you use it from now on.” Gerard’s hard stare said he wasn’t joking. “Try to at least pretend you’ve been beaten into submission.”

Walking backwards, Elliot smirked at his handler. “I think I’ll fetch a higher bid if these fuckers think they can beat it into me themselves. Wouldn’t you be tempted?”

“You’re not cute, mot?nel.” Gerard grabbed the front of Elliot’s jumpsuit, jerking him in close. Thankfully, his tone didn’t match his outward aggression. The anger was for show. “But playing the defiant slave will come more naturally to you. I’ll allow it, so long as you’re prepared for how you’ll be treated if you push it. No matter what is done to you, you don’t make a move until I give the signal, understood?”

As much as Elliot loved pushing Gerard’s buttons, the man’s trust meant more to him than just about anything. If not for his handler, Virgil, and their team, his life would be much different now.

If he’d survived being sold as a child, he’d be just like the young men being herded into the back now. Slender, beautiful, dressed just as provocatively as him and Lux, but…with eyes that held no light. No hope. They’d given up on any existence other than the one they’d been forced into.

I’ll…no we’ll change that. For all of them.

Tone solemn, he held Gerard’s dark gaze. “I understand.”

“Good.” Gerard released his collar and waved him off. “Then go.”

Several sets of eyes followed him as he headed for the bathroom, the hairs rising on the back of his neck as he sensed someone close behind. Whoever was in charge of the auction wouldn’t let the buyers ruin the ‘items up for bid’, but there was a chance some rich fuck would be allowed a sample.

If that did happen, at least he could make sure it was him and not Lux.

Quickening his pace, he shoved the heavy, ornate wood door open and stepped into the gleaming, white and gold bathroom. Winced at the muffled, gasping sobs coming from one of the stalls. These didn’t have space above or below the door, so he couldn’t slip into an adjoining stall to pop his head over the top to check on his little brother.

And shouting to him risked someone overhearing concern he shouldn’t have for a stranger, even if no one understood what he was actually saying. He’d have to wait until Lux came out.

The door to another stall opened, startling him into jumping back a step. His mouth went dry as he lifted his gaze to meet eyes the exact shade of the pacific ocean—he couldn’t stop staring down at it the last time they’d flown overseas, and the same impact hit him now. A small glimpse of something profound, deeper than he could possibly imagine, and one wrong step would see him dragged beneath the surface to be lost forever.

Holy shit…the rest of him is just as bad.

Elliot didn’t get tangled up with any man, no matter how attractive he found them. He’d been trained to use his looks to lure a mark, to manipulate for intel, or get them alone if he just needed to take them out. Sex was a tool, nothing more, and he didn’t particularly enjoy the physical contact that came before the act, nevermind actually following through.

Thankfully, he hadn’t been forced to go that far on a mission yet.

And he hadn’t even been tempted with the other trainees who loved fooling around among their own ranks because it was safer.

But the handsome face in front of him, with a sharp jaw shadowed with just the right amount of dark brown stubble, lips he could picture curving into a sexy smirk, hair just long enough to be hot all messed up…yeah, a man like this could tempt him. The guy was a full head taller, with broad shoulders and muscles straining the fabric of a suit that definitely wasn’t custom made.

I bet he could handle me.

Fuck…I kinda want him to.

Scowling, Elliot took a step back. If the fucker was at this auction, he was one of the bad guys. The heat surging down to Elliot’s dick was nothing but his body reacting to a bit of eye candy.

Maybe I’ll jerk off to the image of him bleeding out on the floor after I kill him.

Yeah, that totally worked. The man would be just as sexy dead.

And much less distracting.

Giving him a dismissive look, the guy stepped toward the stall next to the one he’d left, rapping his knuckles softly on the door. “Hey, you okay in there?”

The door opened a crack, Lux peeking out, his eyes going wide as he craned his neck to meet the man’s gaze. “Yes.”

Instead of taking Lux at his word, the handsome and soon-to-be-buried-in-an-unmarked-grave bastard crouched so he was closer to eye-level. “I heard you crying. No, don’t be ashamed, you have every reason to. I won’t force you, but if you wanna get out of here? Just say the word.”

Lux blinked, then glanced helplessly at Elliot.

“He’s fine where he is.” Elliot forgot about his cover and Lux’s. Forgot everything except how much he wanted to get the man away from them both. “You think you can get him alone somewhere? Use him before he’s sold?” His lips curved as he trailed his gaze over the man, who’d straightened up to glare at him. “You can’t afford him, so you’re looking for a freebie?”

Letting out a bitter laugh, the man shook his head. “They’ve got you really fucked up, don’t they? Not everyone wants to own other people. Hell, some of us are disgusted by this shit.”

“Uh huh. That’s why you’re running for the door. Calling the cops to have ‘this shit’ shut down.” Elliot took Lux’s hand, pulling his brother behind him. “I don’t think you’re any different than the rest of those rich assholes.”

“Then it’s a good thing I don’t give a fuck what you think.” The man reached into his pocket, taking out a crumpled piece of paper and a pencil sharpened down to almost nothing. He turned his focus to Lux. “My name’s Damon. Call me if you want out and I’ll come get you.”

The second Damon reached out to Lux, Elliot caught his wrist, snatched the pencil, and stabbed it right into the center of the fucker’s hand.

Cursing, Damon jerked back, blood pooling into his palm and dripping to the floor. He stared down at his hand in pure shock before lifting his gaze to Elliot. His eyes were even more beautiful blazing with rage, almost like a merciless sun beating down on crashing waves.

A shame all that emotion, all that life, would be snuffed out within the hour.

Less if he caused a scene, but hopefully the man was too proud to go out there and tell the others a ‘slave’ had gotten the best of him.

Leaning in close, Elliot stood up on his tiptoes and whispered in the man’s ear. “Nice to meet you, Damon, but he doesn’t need your help. Not when he has me.”

With Lux tucked close to his side, Elliot left Damon to licked his wounds and headed out of the bathroom. He almost walked into Gerard, but didn’t get a chance to tell him what had gone down before he was being dragged toward the makeshift stage.

There was already a young man standing in the middle of it, being stripped down as higher and higher numbers were shouted out.

The auction had begun.