Page 106 of Mafia Prince (Paranormal Delights 1)
"-they die," Porter muttered, his eyes staring straight ahead. "And I won't hold back this time."
"Good man." She patted his shoulder. "Let's get moving."
Brother and sister slipped out of the car together. Porter had gone low-key, wearing a pair of dark jeans and a t-shirt to match. He kept his head down, staying out of the way as Amy typed in her security code and let them in through the back door. She led him down a long, narrow hallway that let out into a small room. They were about to step around the corner before Amy slammed a hand against Porter's chest and shoved him back.
"Guard," she hissed. "They must have made sure to keep a few posted through these areas." She glanced around the corner before she turned back and scowled. "Listen, I know him. He's a Bianchi and he's into me. Once I lure him away, you go and get your man."
Porter grabbed her arm when she started to walk away. "Create the distraction and then get back with one of the guys. It'll be easier if we're all together as much as possible."
Amy nodded. "Look at you, the boss dad always wanted you to be. And he's missing out on it."
"Fuck him," Porter scowled.
"Yeah," she grinned. "Finally, you've said it. Fuck him. I thought you would never let go of your desire to please him, but here you are. I'm proud of you."
Her praise made his heart warm. The words he’d always wanted to hear from his father said by her held more meaning. Amy was a good person and if she was proud he was ecstatic.No time to think about it right now. Jaygen’s waiting.
Amy slipped into the room and he could hear her talking to the guard. Her words were light and flirty, and he could practically envision her twirling a string of hair around her finger. It was something she'd done often while they were growing up and it always worked. Everyone was charmed by Amy.
Porter listened carefully until he heard them walking away. Slowly, he poked his head around the corner, and the far door was left unguarded.Thank you, Amy.He was going to owe her a hell of a lot later.
He raced into the room and straight to the door. There was another keypad, but he remembered Amy's number. She had given it to all of them when they met up and he keyed it in quickly before he let himself inside.
It took a moment for Porter's eyes to adjust to the darkness. There were a few bare lightbulbs dangling from the ceiling here and there, but everywhere else was cloaked in shadows that threatened to swallow him up. Porter tiptoed forward carefully, bypassing the smaller cages that more than likely housed exotic pets before he came to the larger cages. Some were covered with tarps or thick blankets while others weren't.
Porter slowly moved among them. Most of the beasts in their cages made small noises, but they all seemed too broken to care about who he was or what he was doing. Porter's heart ached. He wanted to release all of them, but he had to find Jaygen.
"I'm sorry," he whispered to a brown bear cramped into a cage entirely too small.
A long, deep growl echoed in his ears and Porter turned on his heels. He moved toward the sound quickly before he ripped a tarp from the top of one of the cages. There, locked away, was a magnificent tiger. Right away, Porter knew that it was Jaygen.
"There you are," Porter whispered, his throat squeezing and trying to choke him up. "Oh God. Hi, Jaygen. Fuck, I've missed you."
Porter picked up the padlock on the cage and frowned. Right, he had to get Jaygen out. He glanced around the room before he crouched down and reached into his pocket. One of the few things Porter had brought when he left home was his lockpicking kit. The thing had come in handy more times than he could count when he was younger and he was grateful that he'd taken it along.
He shoved the tension wrench into the lock and got to work. Porter closed his eyes, trying to listen as carefully as he could. Jaygen chuffed and, to his surprise, whined.
"I'm right here," Porter whispered to him. The man had to be overwhelmed by now. "Don't worry, Jaygen. I won't leave without you." He cursed as he fucked up and had to start over. "I never got to tell you this, but I need to say it right now." He paused and glanced up at Jaygen's imposing blue eyes. "I love you, Jaygen. Do you know that? I love you so damn much and I'm going to get you out of here."
Jaygen stared back at him and moved forward. His big paw pressed up against the cage making Porter's heart race. Yes, this was his Jaygen. It had to be. Porter touched his paw and for a moment, he marveled at how beautiful the tiger was. It was easy enough to see his allure when he was human, but his animal form was no less stunning. Porter had to shake his head and force himself to concentrate on the task at hand.
"You're almost out," he reassured, focusing on the lock. "Fuck, it's right there. I just have to get this-"
"Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite piece of tight ass."
Porter's blood ran cold as soon as he heard that voice. He glanced over his shoulder and Michele smiled back at him, his dark eyes sending a shiver up Porter's spine. The man stepped forward and for a moment, he forgot how to even breathe.
"We figured you'd come for your little boyfriend," Michele purred. "Let me guess? All those years of taking my cock made you hungry for more? You didn't have to get a substitute, Porter. Not when I'm the real thing."
He shook his head as he shakily rose to his feet. "Stay away from me."
Michele continued to stalk forward. "No, I don't think so." The man chuckled. "Your father is going to be happy to see you. It's time to come home, Porter."
"No," Porter hissed. "I have a home and it's nowhere near that goddamn man. I'm warning you," he reached into his pocket and snatched out the switchblade inside before flicking it open, "stay away from me!"
The man smirked before he lunged at Porter. "You fucked up! I'm going to bury my cock in your sweet ass again and make you scream just like old times."
No, no, Porter couldn't do that again. The thought of Michele touching him made bile rise in his throat and he fought himself just so he wouldn't vomit. Every night in Michele's bed or down in the basement flooded back to him. He could feel the man's hands on his body, smell the scent of his thick, cheap cologne, and taste his breath against his tongue.
