The Dangerous Delaneys and Me Read online

  The Dangerous Delaneys and Me

  by Anne Brooke

  The Dangerous Delaneys and Me by Anne Brooke

  Chapter One

  It’s a truth universally acknowledged, particularly in this city, that you don’t mess with the Delaney twins. Ever. If you know what’s good for you. I, however, am not known for my caution under duress and this, therefore, is the story of how I did the opposite.

  The Delaneys lived on the shady side of town. I don’t mean where the majority of the trees are. They’re not really park people. No, I mean on the shady side of the law. Here, if you wanted a dodgy deal, a hot gun or dirty money, the Delaneys were your first port of call. If you wanted to give an enemy a serious fright or get overdue money paid to you, the Delaneys were the people you see. Hell, if you even wanted to start a new, above-board business, you’d have to check with them first. Unless you wanted your windows smashed on your first week of trading and your potential customers never to show up.

  They were bad enemies to have, but loyal friends. Which meant that, at the end of one particular sultry August night, when their beloved cousin Brandon dumped me publicly and in no uncertain terms, and when I’d expressed my opinion equally publicly and in terms just as committed, I knew I was going to be in a damn sight of trouble.

  Not that the Delaneys had any kind of reputation for gay-bashing at all. No, quite the opposite, in fact. But when I’d poured a nearly full bottle of Dom Perignon from the next table over bloody Brandon’s head and told him—and the whole of Luigi’s restaurant—I was going straight to the police with what I knew or guessed at about his more dubious activities, and see him buggered good and proper, even I, in my understandable rage, could tell my prospects weren’t good.

  All the next day therefore, I was waiting. Not that I wasn’t still angry because I was. I thought Brandon and I had had something going. We’d been screwing for ten months, and serious about it for seven of those months. Which was pretty long-term by my standards. Especially as my parents had been tight-lipped about me seeing him at all because of the Delaney connection. The gay aspects of it didn’t worry them; my elder sister already had the grandchildren, thank God. But they’d been worried about me hobnobbing with dubious people, as they so succinctly put it. Naturally, at the time, I’d ignored their words of wisdom, but now, after realizing just quite what a little two-timing, lying shit Brandon actually was, I wished I’d paid more attention.

  I wished I didn’t have quite so much of a temper when wronged, too, but I couldn’t change what I’d done. So the day after I’d doused Brandon with the most expensive bottle of bubbly I could lay my hands on, I went to work. Like any other day. I worked in an art gallery, mainly number crunching and sending out boxes and boxes of marketing bumph, not to mention helping to hang pictures and handing out wine glasses at numerous functions. The gallery owner—a no-nonsense, elegant woman in her fifties called Melissa—knew her stuff and knew how to sweet-talk people into doing exactly what she wanted, too. We were all terrified of her. When Melissa walked in, you straightened your back and doubled your efforts. And then some. It was through her that I’d met Brandon—she and the Delaney twins seemed to have some kind of mutual understanding, and they’d never bothered us. Now I wished she hadn’t been quite so pally with the Delaneys after all.

  So, I spent all morning packing boxes and calming down and then all afternoon worrying and glancing at the door every time it opened. Retribution wouldn’t happen here, of course. I wasn’t stupid. Melissa would never stomach it. Besides, the Delaneys weren’t old-time gangsters. Then again, neither was anyone foolish enough to mess with them. Even though I’d never go to the police and didn’t know anything anyway, I’d said too much—and in public—for them to let it go. I briefly toyed with the idea of begging my boss for help and standing stark naked in the middle of Luigi’s with a huge sign on me reading: Please forgive me. I’m sorry. I’ll never do it again. Bearing in mind the fact I’d never be allowed back in to the scene of the crime anyway, that one was probably a no-hoper.

  With all this going through my head, I was pleased I was the only one in to work today. I wasn’t sure how I’d have coped with conversation of any sort. Plus being at work didn’t give me much of a chance to miss bloody Brandon too much, the tosser.

  Six P.M. came way, way too quickly, and when I’d done all I could to elongate the time before my inevitable kicking—God, I hoped whoever was tasked with my punishment wouldn’t be too mean and I wouldn’t be in the hospital too long—I finally locked up and started on the ten-minute walk for home. I was never any good with the concept of pain.

  I clocked the bloke following me almost at once. Medium height, dark-haired and well-built, and no doubt with muscles like rocks, which he was soon going to put to good use.

  Oh, God, this is it then, I thought. Prepare for the inevitable.

  Every step of the way I fully expected he was going to leap on me, drag me into some dark corner of the city streets and beat the life out of me. Though I hoped he might leave me with the odd breath. Just to keep going.

  It didn’t happen like that. Strangely. Still, he was probably just stretching out the tension until I was so terrified I’d be helping him to beat me up, but to be honest it was doing my head in, and by the time I got to the front door of my block of flats, I was shaking like Jackson Pollock after one whisky too many.

  It was then that a strong hand descended onto my shoulder and swung me round.

  “Okay, okay,” I began to say, or rather stammer. “It’s—it’s all my fault and I’m sorry. I’ll take my punishment, whatever way you want to dole it out. But, please, I…”

  But it wasn’t the man who’d been following me, and I shut up at once. And swallowed. “Oh. Where’s…”

  “He’s not here right now, Liam,” the Delaney twin said. “It’s just you, me, and my brother.”

  I blinked. A moment later and the mirror image of the man in front of me loomed up from the shadows near the hedge. Two tall, fair-haired and grim-looking men faced me down. I had no idea which was which—I’d never been able to tell. Not that it mattered, not now.

  “Let’s not forget this,” said the other twin. He put his hand into the pocket of his long dark coat and drew out something metallic. For a wild and very stupid moment, I thought it was a novelty cigarette case before sanity kicked in and I knew exactly what it was.

  Oh, God—a gun. That was all I needed. I began to shake then in truth. If I could have found the words I would have begged, but my mouth was dry and I couldn’t think straight. There I was, trapped like a rabbit in the spotlight and unable to run, unable even to move. All I could think of was the gun.

  Which right now was jammed against my face, cold and hard and terrible. I wanted to fall to my knees, but didn’t dare move. Apart from the shaking. There was no way I could control it. At last I found my voice.

  “Please, Mr. Delaney, please…” I whimpered, trying to move my mouth as little as possible. Would the gun go off if I spoke too much? I had no idea. I’d never even seen a gun this close. Let alone felt it. Brandon had never carried one. He’d carried a lot of other shit, but never a gun.

  The first twin swore. “For fuck’s sake, stop bloody shaking like a girl, would you? And keep your mouth shut. I can’t hear myself think.”

  I obeyed at once. I shut my mouth and tried to bring the trembling under control, but complying with his last command was harder. I hoped he realized I was making the effort.

  As I waited for whatever the hell was going to happen next, with the gun still pressing into my cheek, the first twin began to pace up and down. Two steps right and two steps left. The pathway wasn’t long. I hoped that wouldn’t upse
t him even more.

  “All right, the situation is this, Liam,” he said, as my eyes followed him back and forth, back and forth. “You’ve fucked up, big time, and neither my brother nor I take kindly to what you’ve done. We’re not vindictive people—oh, no, not at all—and we’ve been pleased to have you with us for a while. Almost a member of the family, you’ve been. It’s been good to see my cousin so happy. Family can be difficult, you know?”

  This seemed to demand an answer, so I nodded. As carefully as possible. Bearing in mind the gun. My small gesture seemed to satisfy him. Thank God.

  “Yes,” he continued, “family is hugely important. We have to support them, no matter what idiocy they come up with. Now, we’re the first to admit young Brandon’s never been the smoothest bullet in the barrel, but he’s one of us. So, when someone humiliates him in a public place, we just can’t let them get away with it. No matter what our private thoughts may be. We’ve got our reputations to uphold and a business to run. You fucked up, Liam, and you have to take what’s coming to you. Do you see?”

  I nodded again. This time it wasn’t enough, as Twin One grabbed me by the chin and shook me. “What’s the matter? Something happened to your tongue?”

  “N-no, Mr. Delaney,” I managed. “And y-yes, I do see. I fucked up and I need to take what’s coming. But, please, I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, believe me.”

  He stopped shaking me and smiled. Neither was particularly reassuring.

  “Too late, my friend,” he said, and this time his voice was a whisper, reeling me in. “Because you still need to learn what you can and can’t do when it comes to the Delaney twins. Now, because you’ve somehow managed to make Brandon happy for a while—longer than anyone else ever has with the mean bastard, I have to admit—my brother and I are going to give you a choice of punishment. What do you say?”

  He let me go and cocked one enquiring eyebrow at me. I swallowed again.

  “Very kind of you, Mr. Delaney,” I said, the words tumbling from my lips as if they couldn’t wait to get out. “That’s very kind of you both because I don’t deserve it. No way.”

  “You’re right there,” he replied. “So listen to me and listen well. Your choice is this: my brother tends to be a little trigger-happy and I’m willing to let him shoot your balls off right here and right now. Don’t worry. He won’t kill you. We’re not unreasonable men, and the hospital’s not far. You won’t die, though I wouldn’t bet on being a father any time soon. Not, of course, that you’re the sort of man to be concerned with family life.”

  He paused, and I felt my prick shrivel away to nothing. I hoped it wasn’t an omen. “Please, sir, Mr. Delaney, what’s the other choice?”

  My voice was a hell of a lot higher than I’d anticipated, though I was amazed I had the courage to speak at all. Quite honestly, I was desperate to move on, in case he decided to withdraw the alternative completely. I quite fancied keeping my balls intact for as long as possible.

  “The other choice?” he said at last, just as I could feel Twin Two easing the gun downward, in a direction I didn’t like to think about. “The other choice is you let the both of us fuck you. All night, for as long as we want to, in any way we want to. Until you don’t even know who you are and you’re as sore as a cold razor on a winter morning. What do you say to that then?”

  I stared at him, my mind flying off in all directions, hardly able even to think. “Um. Thank you, Mr. Delaney. I’ll take the sex. Please?”

  God, no choice there—terrible injury or rape. No choice at all. What the hell were they playing at? I hadn’t even realised they were gay. Maybe they weren’t and this was just some weird mind game.

  Twin Two spoke again. His voice was softer than his brother’s was, but twice as threatening. “This isn’t some game we’re playing with you. We mean it.”

  “Yes, yes, Mr. Delaney. I know. I see you’re totally serious. You’ve got the gun. Believe me. I’ll take the sex, thank you.”

  A short pause followed, during which I wondered just what the hell I’d asked for and—worse—whether they might change their minds and shoot me anyway.

  “Good,” said Twin One at last. “You’ve decided quickly. In which case, we’ll have time to eat.”

  “Eat?” I echoed him, my voice somewhere up on the high side of soprano.

  “Yes, eat,” he said, glaring at me. “As I keep telling you, we’re not uncivilized men. Now give me the gun, Johnny, and we can all get going.”

  Twin Two frowned, like he’d been promised a treat and then had it taken away from him, but he handed the gun over anyway. It was obvious Twin One was the man in charge. I was glad Johnny didn’t have the ability to kill me any more—not unless he could use his bare hands, of course. And I wouldn’t have put it past either of them really. Twin One—who I suppose would have to be Mark—pocketed the gun with a sigh and strode off down the path.

  Still trembling, I followed him. Johnny brought up the rear. I thought we must have looked quite out-of-place, the Delaney twins and me, there in the evening sunshine walking with purpose down the city street. We passed a couple of people, one of whom I recognized as a neighbour, but nobody spoke to us. I couldn’t blame them for that. Everyone knew about the Delaneys. I could only imagine my neighbour might already be preparing his statement to the police for when they found my body, but I could only hope it wouldn’t come to that. If it did, I hoped he might find something nice to say about me.

  At the end of the road, a black BMW drew up alongside us. When I glanced inside, I recognized the driver as the man who’d followed me from work. That would explain where he’d vanished to.

  “Get in,” Twin One—Mark—said as he opened the back door and gestured inside.

  I did so. Johnny slid in next to me. The seats were cream leather, and I could smell polish, something sharp and lemon. Mark got in the front. He turned around, then took out the gun and laid it for a moment across the back of the seat. I stared at it.

  “Look at me, Liam.”

  My gaze shot upward to his face.

  “Are you listening?” he said.

  Wordless, I nodded.

  “Good. I want you to know that just because I have the gun and my brother doesn’t, it doesn’t mean I won’t use it if I have to. What we’re going to do is this: we’re going to go to Luigi’s, where you made such a scene last night. We’re going to sit down, nice and polite, and then you’re going to apologize to Luigi in the way in which I tell you to do. Afterwards, if Luigi accepts your apology and if my brother and I are happy with how you’ve performed, we’ll eat. I mean, Johnny and I will eat, and you’ll watch us. If you’re very lucky, you might get the odd mouthful, but again it depends on whether you can behave properly.

  “When we’ve finished, we’ll go back to your flat. We’ll go into your bedroom, and if we still want to fuck you, then we will. If we don’t, or if we’re not happy with you in any way, then Johnny will shoot you. Where we promised he would. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Mr. Delaney.” My voice was barely above a whisper, but he seemed to understand it well enough.

  He turned back around again and snapped a command. “Then let’s drive.”

  Our journey progressed in silence for a while. Through the gap in the seats, I could see the gun where it now lay on Mark’s lap. I tried not to look at it, instead staring at anything else I could focus on. The streetlights, other cars, even my own knees.

  A cool touch on my cheek almost made me jump. When I glanced to my left, I could see Johnny had eased over the seat so he was right next to me. Somehow, I hadn’t heard him. Now he was stroking my face, his finger moving across my skin. I tried to steady my breathing and, when he touched my mouth, I opened my lips and sucked his finger inside. His breath hitched.

  The driver said something I couldn’t hear, and Mark turned in the front seat towards us. I stared at him, all the time sucking Johnny’s finger. Another one joined it, and I sucked on that one, too. Mark’s lips opened s
lightly. After a few moments, Johnny removed his fingers and began trailing them down my neck, leaving a line of saliva dampening my skin. I stretched my head up to give him easier access. When he came to my top button, he began to undo it.

  “Leave him,” Mark said suddenly, his voice rough. “We’ll have time enough later, if we want to.”

  At once, Johnny obeyed and shifted back to his seat. I sat there, panting a little.

  “Yeah, Mr. Delaney,” I whispered, slow and soft. “You can have anything you want from me for as long as you want it. Do whatever you want to my body. How does that sound?”

  In all honesty, I couldn’t believe I’d spoken at all, let alone had the balls to tease them. Hell, at least I still had my balls. This was something to be grateful for.

  Johnny made a groaning noise and ran one hand through his hair, but Mark simply stared at me. I might have been wrong about this, but I thought he might not have known quite what to say. So I smiled at him and finished undoing my top button. I did it nice and slow, just how I’d spoken to them. Then another button and another, while he kept on looking. When I reached inside and pinched my left nipple, it was he who gasped. It broke the spell.

  “Jesus, Liam, do yourself up, would you?” he said, spinning around until he faced the front again. “We’re nearly at the bloody restaurant. What are you, some kind of man-whore?”

  “Maybe, when it comes to you, Mr. Delaney, maybe,” I whispered, but he made no reply. I wasn’t even sure he’d heard.

  So I did myself up, like he said, and I was as dapper and neat as a suit on a Monday morning by the time we arrived at Luigi’s.

  Luigi’s had always been a classy joint, until I brought its standards crashing down yesterday. Maybe it was why Brandon had chosen it as the place to dump me. He’d thought I wouldn’t make a fuss somewhere like that. Tosser. He’d have to rethink his assumption now. It was coming up to seven P.M. by the time we arrived, and so there weren’t many people eating yet; just a scattering of post-work groups and a couple of family outings. I hoped to God neither Delaney twin was planning to use the gun in here, not with children about. But they were a law unto themselves, so you never could tell. I thought I’d bloody well better make sure I was on my best behaviour so they didn’t want to.