“I fix things that need fixing. And you, Raven, are broken.” When his best friends Vice and Victor ask Raven, a PI, to investigate Gregory Holmsworth, the estranged grandfather of Vice and Victor’s girlfriend, Mirage, Raven is drawn into the underworld of the music industry. Although on the surface Gregory Holmsworth’s business seems legit, his path has not always been on the right side of the law. When Raven’s investigation is noticed, Gregory sets Vixen to distract him. Vixen is Gregory’s Fixer, a role which is wide and varied in activity, but for Vixen, mainly involves the music side of his business, as Vixen is the lead singer of a punk band just breaking into the industry. Whilst Raven has been looking into Gregory, Vixen has been looking into Raven, and she sends him an invitation to meet with her, luring him with the promise of a way into Gregory’s business and secrets. But Vixen has other plans for Raven. She likes pretty boys, and broken things, and she has decided that Raven fits both descriptions to a tee.
View MoreVixen stacked her boxes against the wall in the new apartment. Office. Apartment. Whatever. She was relatively sure that Thomas did not know about this building, as his sexuality had been Gregory’s closely held secret. She knew that Gregory had made Andrew make the purchase disappear off the books. The accountant had been very helpful from his sandy, sunny, retirement. And that was all that mattered. That she and her boy toys would be safe. “Alright?” Shadow paused by her, carrying a box. He had taken off his shirt, pushing it into his waistband, and his face was sweaty, his arms and chest dirty as the dust from the boxes mixed with his sweat, leaving behind streaks. She smiled at him with false brightness. “Fine.” He was still worried about her. She had made choices that she did not regret, but they had come with a cost, and she had paid it. Broken boy toys, she thought, and a broken Domme. But she was a Fixer, and she would f-king fix herself, along with her boys. She saw the
Raven opened his laptop on his normal Friday morning table after checking that its surface had been wiped free of spills and crumbs. He was glad of the quiet moment - it had been a chaotic week of packing up Vixen’s apartment. They had hired a moving truck and moved the furniture out themselves, a b-tch of a job, but they had not wanted any trail that someone could follow to the office building, so had decided that it was better not to hire removalists and keep the move off record. They had also hired an architect to begin putting together plans for the band’s apartments in the building, and the smaller ones that they would lease out to others. There were eighteen floors, plus the basement level in which the sex club was located, so the building would eventually be a good income for them, though, from what Gregory had left Vixen, they probably wouldn’t need it. It had been fun and interesting to explore the building and basement with Vixen and Shadow, to spend an evening drinking ch
The approach to Gregory’s house was blocked off, and the news reporters had been pushed back to a point beyond view of the house, where the trees were set back from the road, leaving a gravel edge convenient for parking. Shadow had to park far back from the blockade, behind rows of news vans, support vehicles, a couple of ambulances on standby, and the cars of curious passers-by, and they worked their way through news crews and thrill seekers alike as they made their way to the police-guarded rope. “Anything?” Raven asked Shadow who had his phone to his ear, redialling Vixen’s phone for the one hundredth time since the news story. He rose onto his tip toes, craning his neck, searching through the crowds of police and SWAT officers behind the barricade, looking for Vixen. “What colour was her hair today?” “Rings out,” Shadow shook his head. His face was pale. “I can’t remember man,” he added. “Blonde, I think. Though my mind has totally shut down, and maybe that was yesterday? Blonde
Vixen touched her brow as she drove between the rows of police cars and black SWAT vehicles to the gates. “No need to stand to attention, fellows,” she murmured under her breath. There was a flurry of activity around her. Speed was of the essence, she knew. There was always the risk that one of Thomas’ associates would drive up the road and spot them. All it would take was one phone call at the wrong time. “All good Tempie?” Claudia said in her ear. “Just admiring the view,” Tempie replied. “Lots of beef on the side of the road today, makes a girl a bit hungry, you know?” Claudia chuckled. “Keep that spirit up, Tempie. Not long now, hey? And then this will be done.” Tempie wound down the window at the gate and pressed the intercom button, smiling for the cameras, as if a man in camouflage was not crawling along the side of her car. The gates opened, and she eased her way forward, hoping that there were no limbs or other body parts in her way and bracing for a bump and a scream. I
Midday Friday, Raven was stalking a surveillance target when his phone rang. He glanced at the display. Vice. “Hey,” he said putting the phone onto speaker so he could take photos if the target came into sight. “Raven, sweet boy.” It was Nicola, Vice’s mum. Raven checked the read out on the phone. Definitely Vice’s number. “Nicola,” he said warmly. “Have you stolen Vice’s phone?” “No, I am looking after it for him,” she replied. “Something has happened Raven. I am guessing that you have not been listening or watching the news.” “No,” Raven felt a cold fist close around his heart. He put the camera down and picked the phone up, taking it off of speaker. “What happened, Nicola? Are Vice and Victor okay?” “They are fine,” she assured him. “But we are at the hospital. Miranda was shot this morning.” “Holy f-k.” Raven was shocked. “Is she okay?” “She lost a lot of blood, but she is a strong girl. It was a shoulder wound. Some man from her recording label who has been causing her gri
“Alright,” Vixen told herself as the gates to Gregory’s house opened to admit her. “It is easy.” “We will be here with you,” Detective Callahan said in her ear. Vixen adjusted her hair to cover the earpiece. It was skin coloured and barely noticeable, but if she were caught with it, it would not only give away the entire plan, but also her part in it. “That is nice, but we both know there is nothing you can do if I get busted. Not without giving away twelve months of investigation, right? So, you are not going to come riding to my rescue if I get into trouble.” “Have you changed your mind?” Claudia sounded strained. “No,” Vixen eased the Ferrari into the parking spots. “No. This will make Miranda safe, and you promised to leave Gregory alone, so no, I have to do this.” She drew in a deep breath and fixed her lipstick, before picking up her handbag, and opening the car door. She adjusted the mask on her face, and flicked her hair over her shoulders, before strolling up to the fron
It had been a shit morning Raven thought as he parked in amongst the ever-changing array of cars under Vixen’s building. He was dodging Vice’s calls and had failed to dodge a swing from a long-term surveillance case who had cottoned on to his spying. Luckily, he was ready to wrap that one up, and had flicked the client through the required evidence whilst pressing a can of soft drink against his inflicted jaw. The crew was working, this time on a very nice vintage Porsche, dressed in overalls and face masks. No one queried his arrival or stopped him on his way to the stairwell, so he assumed the face masks didn’t hide Vixen or Shadow behind them. He climbed up to Vixen’s floor. “Hey,” Shadow was playing PlayStation at the oversized TV and looked over his shoulder as the door opened. “Grab a beer and a control. Tempie’s off doing Tempie things.” “What Tempie things?” Raven wondered as he grabbed a beer and slid onto the couch. He leaned back against the corner of the couch, anglin
In the morning, Vixen left the two boys curled up in bed. Raven’s eyes opened briefly as she left the shower, before he closed them again. Shadow wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him closer, and snuggled into Raven’s dark hair. “Aww,” she leaned over to deliver them kisses, breathing in the warm scent of their skin. “Snuggly boys.” “Don’t go,” Raven tried to pull her back into bed, but she laughed and eased away with lingering kisses. “I must, my pet.” Raven heaved a sigh. “It’s not even eight.” “Do you have to work today?” She wondered as she sat on the edge of the bed to lace up her boots. “Should do,” he muttered, lured to the edge of sleep by Shadow’s hot body against his. “Have a surveillance job that gets active around ten.” “Should I set you an alarm?” She offered. He groaned pressing his face into the pillow. She took that as a yes and programmed the smart device on the bedside to wake him at nine thirty. She paused in the doorway in order to look at them with
“Alright,” Vixen had removed the band t-shirt and wore a black studded bra. Her feet were bare. She jerked her head towards the bedroom. Shadow was already moving across the room. “Strip and get into position.” She did not follow them in, going instead to the fridge. Shadow pulled off his clothing in the walk-in-robe. “Position?” Raven copied him. The playroom door was open, offering a tantalising glimpse within. “Kneeling.” Shadow had stripped to the skin. “Hurry up man.” He kneeled to one side of the door, and Raven knelt beside him. “This feels weird,” Raven murmured. “You’ll get used to it.” “Why are you guys so sure I’m a sub?” “I guess we’ll find out for sure tonight, but…” Shadow trailed off as Vixen closed the bedroom door. She closed the door to the walk-in-robe behind her. Raven felt his skin crawl. There was something about the gradual closing off the rooms that heightened his awareness of the contraptions in the playroom. As Vixen closed the playroom door, he flin
“I would do him,” Shadow decided.They both watched the black-haired PI drinking his coffee at a table on the other side of the room.The PI was hot, Vixen agreed as she stirred her ice coffee with a spoon.Whilst not as big physically as Shadow, who could have easily played football like his former-pro father but preferred the drums, and who often had to duck his head in doorways, the PI was still a large man, around six-foot, built lean, though his shoulders filled the leather jacket nicely, and she would bet he had nice arms – a man did not get that V shape without working out.He had a fine arse on him too, displayed nicely by his habitual jeans, as both she and Shadow had reason to observe in tailing the man around over the last couple of weeks.Ten am, Fridays, coffee, black, and half an hour on his laptop in the café, same table if he could get it, facing out towards the windows. Between ten fifteen and ten twenty, depending on whether she was behind, his mother would walk by.
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