In Your Name, page 26
The dance floor heaved with a writhing mass of bodies, the music thumping out a beat which punched you in the stomach from thirty feet. People gyrated and rubbed themselves against perfect strangers, hoping it would lead to something more.
The Venetian masks added to the sense of abandoned pleasure. They gave the green light to enjoying doing things the wearers would be horrified to do minus the anonymity. When you’re wearing a mask, anything goes. The strobe lighting made the whole scene look like a single organism pulsating to the beat. It was hot and it was loud.
Bassano wore his mask and was leaning into a woman with long dark hair. Her back was against a pillar and his arm was outstretched marking out his territory, his hand resting inches from her head. She bent forward to hear him over the noise. They broke away and threw their heads back laughing. Bassano would like to say she was exactly his type, but in truth any woman this close was his type.
He leaned in again and put his face next to hers. He lingered, whispering in her ear. The woman laughed again and slapped him on his chest, playfully reprimanding him for something suggestive. She slipped her hand in his.
Bassano smiled his best Italian American smile. She tilted her head to the floor in a false parade of coyness and sipped her drink holding his gaze.
Bassano didn’t have a drink. In his one hand he held the warm, strong fingers of the woman in front of him, and his other was a metal hook. He still didn’t trust himself to grip a glass with his prosthetic and he wasn’t about to let go of her in preference for a glass.
His mask was black and hers glistened pearlescent white. The invitation had said ‘Girls in white, guys in black. Masks obligatory’. For Bassano, singles clubs were a welcome diversion from real life, and the masks made the parties a total blast.
He scored every time. Not only was he tall and ruggedly handsome, but he definitely had the curiosity factor. The faint lace cobweb of scars on his face, and his missing arm, seemed to hold a deep fascination for certain women. They were crazy to find out about it, and the more they had to drink the crazier they got.
When he laid on the Italian charm, coupled with the story of how a vicious serial killer nearly murdered him, he was home and dry. It worked every time.
He wasn’t interested in taking any of them home to meet his folks. He’d done that once and it was a disaster. No, this was distraction time, that’s all.
Huge speakers banged out some techno rubbish, which only people wearing masks would ever consider dancing to. The DJ shouted over the distorted sounds from the PA and the crowd in front screamed something equally unintelligible in return. Bassano placed a kiss on her cheek. She smiled and squeezed his hand. This was going good.
He reached down and cupped her hand holding the drink, brought it up to his lips and drank it dry. She slapped his shoulder and sent him away for another. There is something about being over six foot tall with a hook for a hand which makes getting close to the bar a relatively easy process. Bassano ordered two more drinks, paid for them and walked back with both glasses pinched between his thumb and first two fingers.
He reached the pillar, she was gone.
He scanned the room trying to find the dark-haired woman in the white dress wearing a mask, a description which didn’t really narrow down the field. Then he saw her standing against the wall by the restrooms. She was wearing her coat with a look that said ‘catch up, boy’.
Bassano pushed through the tight knot of people and offered up the drinks. She took one and downed it, crunching the ice between her teeth. She fed her arm around his waist and said something in his ear. Bassano smiled, gave his drink the same treatment and allowed her to lead him through the crowd towards the emergency exit next to the stage.
She hit the bar with the heel of her hand and the door flew open, the fresh air hitting them like a blast freezer. They spilled out into a narrow alley at the side of the club. A row of trash cans and dumpsters lined up against the opposite wall. She slammed the door behind them. The music carried through the walls as if they were still on the dance floor, it echoed and reverberated off the high brickwork.
She pushed Bassano against the wall and kissed him. Her tongue was hot in his mouth. Her hands caressed his face pulling him in.
Bassano’s arm curled around her, feeling the contours of her body. She pulled back and ran her fingernails down his chest. She kissed him hard. Her fingers slid down to his belt. He began to breathe heavily. He tore off his mask and spun her round, pinning her against the wall, grinding his hips into hers.
She sank to her knees and unzipped his pants. He was hot and hard in her hand. She gripped him tight and freed him from his clothing. Bassano steadied himself against the wall and closed his eyes.
There was a blinding flash of pain.
He recoiled to see blood running down his legs. The dark-haired woman knelt with her back against the wall holding a knife in one hand and his cock and balls in the other. Bassano staggered around, holding the gap in his crotch where his genitals used to be, his mouth wide open in a silent scream.
She slid the blade underneath the band on her mask and cut it free. Bassano stared at her face as blood pumped from his body.
She looked familiar.
She was smiling at him.
He recognised the smile.
The face was different, but the smile was the same.
The last time he saw it, a woman broke his face and severed his arm.
His legs gave way and he toppled backwards. The scream finally left his throat, only to be drowned out by the noise of the club.
Her high heels clicked on the concrete as she walked away, confident that this time she had done a proper job. The bloody contents of her bag were a fitting trophy.
One down, two to go.
The End
A Note from Bloodhound Books:
Thanks for reading In Your Name . We hope you enjoyed it as much as we did. Please consider leaving a review on Amazon or Goodreads to help others find and enjoy this book too.
We make every effort to ensure that books are carefully edited and proofread, however occasionally mistakes do slip through. If you spot something, please do send details to info@bloodhoundbooks.com and we can amend it.
Bloodhound Books specialise in crime and thriller fiction. We regularly have special offers including free and discounted eBooks. To be the first to hear about these special offers, why not join our mailing list here? We won’t send you more than two emails per month and we’ll never pass your details on to anybody else.
Readers who enjoyed In Your Name will also enjoy
Those That Reman Also by Rob Ashman, the first book in The Mechanic trilogy
The Revelation Room by Mark Tilbury
Acknowledgments
I want to thank all those who have made this second book possible – My family Karen, Gemma, Holly and Maureen for their blunt, painful feedback and endless patience. To my band of loyal proofreaders Yvonne, Lesley, Christine, Penny, Christine, Nicki, Jackie, Anne, Frazer and Simon who didn’t hold back either and finally my talented editor, Helen Fazal, who once again did an amazing job and made me a better writer in the process.
Also by Rob Ashman
Coming Soon …..
Pay The Penance
Find out how it all ends in the explosive final book of The Mechanic trilogy
Rob Ashman, In Your Name
