Previously

          Wade's hand meets the small of my back, grinning and directing me towards the other members of the room. My smile falters. "What's going on—?"

          "I've kept my end of the bargain, I suspect you'll do the same," Wade intervenes, neglecting me wholeheartedly.

          The man before me leers, and any normal human being would shiver at the provocative and sinister glance thrown at them. I, however, have to force a shudder.

          Play along.

          "Yes, of course Mr. Ayton," the words roll off his tongue coldly, his eyes reflecting his own tainted soul "I wonder how Mr. Parks will react once he knows we've played with and sliced his favourite girl."

          My eyes widen to the size of Frisbees. "Say what now?"

Now

          He snaps his fingers, a refined and alarming sound. "Seize her, but don't make her feel too uncomfortable, the poor dear is merely stuck in the middle of a... business deal."

          Should have let Kirk, Spock and McCoy stalk me I chide myself bitterly, then decide against it almost immediately. Chase isn't in a good place right now, concerning the burns still fresh and tarnishing his back and shoulders. He isn't telling anyone, but I'm quite certain he's enduring an enormous amount of pain because of it. Then there's the fact of his mental stability. He hasn't had a break down in a while though...

          Lucas is smart. He could probably get me out of here, but he's a lover, not a fighter. Actually, he's neither. He's just... Lucas. Smart, and while he miraculously has a fine set of muscles on him – like Jordan and Chase do (my God, Chase) – he doesn't fight. Sure, he retains all fighting basics, but my friends Lillian and Jade would be able to pin him in a minute. He's very talented in identifying a person's weak spots though, so that most certainly could come in handy.

          Jordan is the reason they want me. He cannot by any means necessary turn up. Not only would there be a possibility – albeit small – that his bronchial asthma would act up, but an idiot would be able to realize they mean him harm. I'm not some idiotic heroine from the books or movies, I don't have people yelling at me like 'No, it's this you stupid woman! It's blandly obvious!'.

          "Let's go girly."

          I resist the impulse to recoil in disgust from the man, or knee him in the jewels. When I cast Wade a glance, his face is stoic, as if this doesn't bother him at all.

          Psychopaths are good at changing moods within the blink of an eye.

          "Girly has a name you bumbling buffoon," I seethe, proceeding to glare at him before swinging my evil eye to the culprit behind this entire endeavour.

          "How could you? Using me – your girlfriend – as a bargaining chip so you could get what? Money? Information? A clean slate? Enlighten me Jacob, just what exactly is worth my life?" I spit, and an almost undetectable spark of admiration glistens in his eyes. Of course, no one else sees it, because as Lucas would put it 'There's an abundance of stupid in the room and it is too overwhelming to the senses for anyone else to comprehend.'

           A dry, sadistic smile forms on his face, a single strand of his dirty blonde hair falling out of place to frame his face. "Nothing you need to know," he sighs disinterestedly titling his head and staring at me when he sees the look on my face "Oh Stella, if there was only someone out there who loved you," he taunts, chuckling afterwards. He did NOT just quote Frozen at a time like this.

          "Did you really think I cared for you Stella?" He continues, idly strolling to where the head man persists to stand, Mr Malone was it? "Personal assistants these days, getting stupider and stupider."

          "Couldn't agree more," the man affirms, eyes raking over my body shamelessly "although they are getting better to look at."

          Wade flinches.

          The head man takes his time approaching me, his hair not slicked back with product but an oily mess, contrasting against the immaculate suit he's adorning. His eyes look as if they were once brown, but bit by bit the colour was leeched along with each step he took towards insanity. Yes, he's insane. Lucas has bestowed me with a few of his deduction skills. I can carry out basic identification, and this sickly skinned, charcoal haired mad man is important, that is prominently obvious.

          When he comes to a stop in front of me, close enough to be breathing in my own air, he leans forwards and nuzzles his nose against my ear, inhaling my scent as loudly and obnoxiously as he can. I recoil away, repressing the quivers trying to overrun my body. Well, not my quivers, but the quivers of this character Wade so desperately wants me to play.

          Twirling a few loose strands of my golden hair that are currently framing my face, he raises them to his nose and inhales yet again, keeping firm eye contact with me the entire time, unblinking. "You have the most alluring scent my dear," he coos, pressing his forehead against mine.

          I try to jerk my head away, but he tightly seizes my chin and holds it in his iron grip, forcing me to stay in place against my own will. "You are simply scrumptious."

          Then guess what he does?

          He licks my face.

          ......

          I'm not kidding.

          HE LICKED MY FREAKING FACE.

          He runs his tongue over his lips afterwards, slowly treading backwards with a demoniac smirk tugging at them. "Chance Eau Vive? Lovely choice in perfume, Chanel has always been a wonderful brand."

          "Like I said before, you'll keep your end of the bargain, yes?" Wade inquires stiffly, dragging the ludicrous man's back towards him.

           He tears his gaze from mine. "Ah, yes. Let's talk business," he waves at the two morons gripping me "take her away" and the two start walking elsewhere while Laurel and Hardy drag me to a desolate room a few hallways away... with a bed.

           One of them throws me onto the bed roughly, the other turning to lock the door. I restrain the urge to roll my eyes, actually finding this marginally amusing. My clutch purse was snatched from me on the way in, so all I have are the clothes on my back... and everything within this bedroom.

           "Pretty thing like you, you'll be worth every dime in his piggy bank," the taller one with long brown hair sneers, the shorter one with raven black hair grunting in agreement. "First though... let's have a little fun."

           I quirk an eyebrow, surveying my surroundings. Two dressers, two bed side tables, a bed, one lamp, a walk in wardrobe, a desk and a bathroom. Simple enough.

          I squirm away from their approaching figures until my back slams against the headboard of the bed. "Y-You really d-don't have to do a-anything..." I whimper, tears streaming down my face on demand.

          "No we don't sweetheart, but we want to," the taller one with Hercules muscles replies, smirking as he grips my leg.

           Within a second, I blink all the tears from my eyes, spinning completely around on the bed and connecting my heel with his jaw. He instantly falls back, the assault managing to draw blood from his busted lip and fractured nose. High heels do come in handy.

          "What the—ˮ the other one starts, but I snatch the lamp from the bedside table and yank it from the power socket, swinging it at his head. His forearm blocks my assault, but at the same time I leaped off the bed and stomped my heel onto his toes.

          He cries out in anguish, his teeth grinding together at the unexpected pain. Taking my chance in his momentarily weakened state, I use my right hand to swipe his arm out of the way then shatter the lamp over his head, showering sharp shards over his face.

          He crumples to the floor in one swift movement, eyes rolled to the back of his head. I take the brief moment to fix up the form fitting white dress, tugging it back down to my mid-thigh. When I turn back around, the second bloke with the badly cut lip and ghastly fractured nose draws me into a headlock, and I begin to feel my face turn purple already.

          "You... bi—ˮ

          Cutting him off, I stomp my heel onto his foot as I did his friend, a blood-curdling scream about to split my ears open. I don't allow him to do so and alert the others though, twirling out of his weakened grip and grabbing a pillow. I hold it over his mouth before finding a pressure point in his neck and pressing it.

          He collapses in a bundle to the carpeted floor.

          "If you're going to commit such repulsive acts," I heave, fixing my dress and hair in a lady like manner "then don't be so cliché about it."

           I pat the man closest to me down, finding a phone within his pocket. An impish grin finds its way to my lips. "Big mistake."

          Scoffing at the passcode protecting the device, I spend about a minute cracking into it then finding the messages app, typing in Jordan's phone number:

          Been captured by men who are interested in you, not Death the Horsemen as far as I can tell, but that's yet to be confirmed. Gonna watch how it plays out. Still in the building. Be nearby should anything go wrong – EA

          His reply is imminent.

          Be careful – JP

          My eyes roll skywards. He's not going to listen to me, I just know it. How do I know it?

          Because he didn't argue back.

          Slipping the phone securely into my bra until it's comfortably undetectable; I stride into the bathroom and play with my hair for a bit, being sure that I look presentable to the men behind the doors. Feeling satisfied with my appearance, I return to the bedroom and scour it for anything I may have missed.

          I start rifling through the drawers, finding nothing but men's clothes and women's lingerie. Coming across to be the bedside table, I open the top drawer and immediately know I've won this stupid little battle.

          A laptop.

          I fish it out, seating myself on the bed and turning it on. After breaking into it and allowing Aidan to monitor all the technology within the building now, I conceive an idea.

          Pulling the phone back out, I place it next to the dresser besides the door and play a disturbing soundtrack of someone being... sexually assaulted... so the guards aren't suspicious of no sounds coming from within the room should they pass by.

          "Aidan," I murmur, concentrated on the laptop screen after taking my seat on the bed again, typing in more computer encryptions and codes.

          "Yeah Elle?"

          "Bring up the security cameras within the room that Wade and the man are conversing in. Run over previous footage I may have missed and play everything important, also, run facial recognition on the face of the head honcho. Somehow I don't think Malone is his real surname."

          "Rightio Elle," the screen flashes with all assortments of numbers, letters, symbols and equations. Half the screen lights up with a video feeding of Wade and the other man, the other half still running a facial recognition.

          "She's a pretty piece, certainly worth a pretty penny," the man comments, he and Wade making their way to a large and spacious work desk.

          Wade smirks. "That's not what you entirely want her for, but I won't press."

          The man points a finger at him, a psychotic grin broadening on his face. "You're good Mr. Ayton, very good. Almost had me fooled..." His fingers snap again, and within the blink of an eye, thirty men swarm into the room like a horde of rats.

          Clicking on the right arrow key, I fast forward to the current time, immediately pressing play and observing what Wade has gotten us into.

          "—still a lovely gift, but know when you've been beaten Mr. Wilson."

          Wade's trademark mischievous grin plays at his lips, a maniacal bellow of laughter bursting past them. "T-This," he laughs, barely able to form a sentence through the laughter and disregarding the two men holding his arms back "this is why I don't try to be all smart. This is why I prefer just to chop my way in. So much faster, and less boring. I thought I was going to fall asleep half way through negotiations back there, but this! Oh! Now things have gotten interesting!"

           He's a bloody lunatic.... But I guess I'm used to that sort of thing living with three men.

          "Found a match Elle."

         Lowering the volume of Wade and the man's conversation, I glimpse at the other half of the screen to see what Aidan has dug up for me.

          "There's an abundance of encrypted files here and a security alert was almost sent out when I figured out who he was, you're bloody lucky to have me."

          I scoff. "I made you, you're lucky to have me. Anyway, the security alert, where was it going to be sent to?"

          If AI's could roll their non-existent eyes, I'm certain Aidan would. "Tracking it now, but I have a pretty good guess where it was being sent to."

          Maybe I should change that Australian accent on him... I do love Irish accents... An Irish accent would be hilarious on him.

          Off topic? Off topic.

          I blink down at the laptop with bored patience. "And...?"

          "He's some director of an agency, one that used to be a government one but funding was cut once they found out of their... recreational activities. They're now funded by the Beyond Corporation which is the newest version of the terrorist cell SILENT."

          "Tell me more about SILENT."

          "SILENT was like a clandestine cell system, so they organised troops and clusters of people ranging from resistance fighters to terrorists. SILENT died out, and the Beyond Corporation was born. Simple as that."

          "Name of the Director who proceeded to lick my face and the agency he's in charge of please. The one that the Beyond Corporation is funding."

          "He licked your face? Ew," he chuckles throatily... even though he doesn't have a throat.... "That's gross. Anyway, can't find much, they're like SHIELD, but the opposite. They act alike in every single way from what I can find, and carry out missions of the sort with the same level of secrecy, maybe even more so that SHIELD. The man's name is Dirk Anger, and he's very well like an over the top parody of Nick Fury. The company he's Director of is called HATE, which stands for Highest Anti-Terrorist Effort. That's bloody funny."

          "Stay focused Aidan."

          "That's all Elle. I can't find anything else. That name though... they're not serious about that right? The acronym is all good, but Highest Ant-Terrorist Effort? They're funded by a damn terrorist forming corporation."

          I hum in deep thought. "So the Beyond Corporation – who's funding HATE and Dirk – they're like what, consulting criminals?"

          He emits a robotic chuckle. Sometimes I wonder why I gave him human characteristics. "If you want to go all Sherlock Holmes on this then yeah, they're the Moriarty to SHIELD's Sherlock, and probably a larger threat than HATE."

          "Don't underestimate HATE, Dirk Anger is a mad man, and I know a mad man when I see one. They both need to be offed," I reprimand, pushing those thoughts away from now and quickly requesting "Send all the information about that to the boys, as well as the footage from tonight. Stand by on the phone once I leave the room and turn those... revolting sounds off. Call them should things get messy."

          "What kind of trouble are you getting into now?"

          I smirk knowingly. "The kind that'll get me—"

          "Dead?"

          My head whips to the door, eyes expanding larger than the moon when I recognise who's standing in it.

          "Jordan!" I hiss in a contain whisper as he closes the door silently behind him, black walking stick with golden skull handle in hand "what are you doing here!?"

          He snorts as if it's obvious, opening his mouth to reply then staring at the phone replaying the abhorrent sounds from it. Pausing the sounds on the phone, he attempts at answering again. "Saving you of course... duh."

          "Does it look like I need saving!?"

           He analyses the room, eyes skimming over the two unconscious and bleeding men, before resting on me completely unharmed and perched on the bed, laptop lying in lap.

          "Well... not really, no..."

          I groan, running my hand over my face. "You're an idiot."

          "A super sexy idiot with a multi-trillion dollar company who was an Abercrombie model twice and happens to be Death the Horseman."

          "Still an idiot."

          "Ah yes, but I've got my idiots in crime with me."

           My gaze darts to the laptop screen, full screening the live video feed of Wade currently being punched by one of Dirk's henchmen.... And laughing.

          I keep my gaze fixated on the screen, but lowly warn Jordan "You didn't...."

          "Oh," he clicks his tongue, tilting his head to the side for a second "but I did."

          The elevator doors slide open slowly, and I have to repress frustrated yet slightly happy exhale as two masculine men in lavish and pricey suits saunter from it. One saunters anyway, the other strolls with his hands clasped behind his back and a frankly uninterested expression in his face.

          I groan, laptop now placed on the bed, and massage my temples in attempts to mollify myself. "Why is it when something happens, it's always you three?"

          He ponders for a moment, before plopping down on the bed beside me. "Technically Wade started it... well, no, Dirk started it—"

          I blink in surprise. "How do you know his name? I only just requested of Aidan to send you the information as you walked through the door."

          "Lucas has been keeping tabs on HATE since he first bumped into one of their agents a while ago. I would explain how but this is about to get interesting so long story short, we found out about Wade hunting them as well so the Death the Horseman approached him and offered deal – because that's what I do best – and now here we are, Horsemen and Deadpool working side by side. He doesn't know our identities of course, but—"

          I clamp my hand over his mouth and watch the computer screen intently, scolding "I'll yell at you later."

          "Mr. Parks requests that you return his assistant back to him at once," Chase civilly demands, yet the mere tone of his voice as he does so is intimidating enough to shake a few of them in the room.

          Dirk offers a hushed yet mad laugh. "How adorable! He's sent his two bulldogs fetch the kitten. I'm not the best at math—"

          Chase snorts. "Go on."

          "— but there's thirty one of us, and if I'm not mistaken, only two of you."

          Chase laughs amusedly, taking another step forward and rigidly crossing his arms, his muscles bugling through the suit's sleeves. "I don't know what you're talking about. That was pretty good math to me."

          Dirk guffaws louder. "You're a barrel of laughs. I should keep you; maybe I'll buy a leash...." His fixed stare falls on Lucas, interest glazing over his eyes.

          "Do we have a dog who's lost his bark?"

           Lucas' chestnut brown hair sweeps over the left side of his face, and the smallest of smiles ghost his lips. "How's the nicotine addiction?"

          Dirk's grin progressively slips from his face.

          Lucas pauses before continuing. "Or the alcoholism? I'm sure judging by the mints peeking from your lower right suit pocket and the crumb of cake dusting your left shoulder barely detectable to the eye that your bulimia doesn't seem to be progressing in your behalf either. Why have mints? Well it's elementary really, you're self-conscious of your breath that no matter where you may be you require them by your side, obvious to deduce by the fact you're in possession of them during a business deal turned interrogation. Why be self-conscious of your breath? Cake usually leaves a somewhat refreshing odour in your mouth compared to garlic or onions, so why have them? Ah, unless you threw up your previous contents into a toilet before starting this whole ordeal. Then there's also the most evident fact that the way your suit hangs on you shows you're not eating enough yet you've got a cake crumb decorating your shoulder. Most people would assume anorexia but no, it's clearly bulimia."

          Dirks' face increasingly turns feral.

          Lucas' small smile still plays at his lips, before turning into an 'innocent' frown. "Hhm, what I'm truly perplexed about is the misogyny which you also have, but Estelle's perfume clings to you so prominently that I can smell it from over here... you're a women hater who did something to a woman that wasn't violent..."

          "ENOUGH!"

          A pin can be dropped within the next room, and everyone would be able to hear it. The tensions is so thick that I'm sure Wade would so us the honour of slicing it with his katanas if he had them on hand.

           Lucas' face doesn't twitch. "Depression is such a common condition these days, but the mixture of that with sadism? That's a treacherous mix, don't you think?"

          "How... could you possibly know about all of that?" Dirk seethes, eyes a ferocious and savage blaze so beetling even from here.

          "I observe," is all Lucas offers.

          Dirk's expression contorts to one of psychotic satisfaction, a single eye twitching. "You observe?" he cackles "So you've probably pieced the puzzle pieces together of Jordan Parks then, yes?"

          Jordan stiffens besides me.

          Dirk's growing leer sends a lightning bolt of ice down my spine. "The pieces painting the picture of Jordan Parks, or does he prefer Death the Horseman?"

Sorry I haven't updated in so long!! This was just a long chapter to write and eventually I had to cut it in half  and I'm going to give the same stupid reason as always because I'm too busy.... Stupid school....

But 11 chapters in and Jordan has been revealed! The multi-million dollar question is... does he know the identities of the other Horsemen? And how does he know about Jordan? I feel like one of those annoying game show hosts who should say 'Stay tuned to find out!'.

So I'll say something else instead.

That's all folks!

Oh! WAIT!

I want to know more about you guys because getting to reply becomes very very hard now that there's so many comments on all my books and I just can't keep up conversations as good as I used to, but I do still read every single one I can (which is 99%, I promise) so I'm going to start a QOTD and try to reply to at least the comments on those. Let's start shall we?

QOTD: Um.... I would ask favourite colour but everyone is sick of that question. So, if you would travel to one fictional universe, what would it be? (I'm 99.99% sure no one is going to say Panem, I hope not at least...)

Thanks for reading and that's all for now, bye! :) xxx

~T.L