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No…the smell is all wrong.
My heart lurches when I see Grayson’s eyes glaring down at me. Struck with adrenaline, I go to scream, but he cuts the sound off with a crushing kiss. My pulse roars in my ears. Lashing his tongue, he abuses my mouth.
His palm replaces his lips with a slap. He looks over his shoulder, dragging my focus to see Chuck walk into the cubicle and close the door with the three of us locked inside.No, his smirk, his hand on his groin, his erection—Oh God.
Tears build in my eyes.
They move in. Grayson presses his body to mine, squeezing a hysterical wail from me. The sound of it is masked by his hand, but my throat shudders with the plea. “You owe me, bitch! So, I’m going to fuck you against this stall. You’re going to love it. And you’re going to keep your mouth shut!”
I recognise the voice, the scent—it was him.
ManXY
“I have the money!” I cry into his palm. “We want to give it back—”
“We have money, you stupid cunt. I’m so sick of your bullshit. Your push and pull. Treat me like shit? Fuck you! I’m taking what you owe me. I’m going to make sure you can’t fit any more cum inside your little body today. Or…” He dips his head down and inhales me. My body shakes with fear. “Or we take turns with your boyfriend’s head. I heard through the grapevine that he’s moments away from drooling all over you instead of licking you.” He searches my face for the truth. His cock grows against me, his breath hot and nauseating on my neck. I look away, clenching my teeth.
He smiles, seeing the sadness I can’t hide. “I’m right, aren’t I? Xander Butcher is punch-drunk.”
“Don’t do this. I…” My voice trails to frightened silence. It’s no use pleading. He’s ‘The Taker’now.
Through pooling eyes, I look over his shoulder at Chuck’s smirk as he adds, “What will it be, Kaya? Grayson gets what he’s owed. Or we take turns with Xander’s head? Though, if he’d been alone at the hotel like I wanted, then I would have loved to mash that brain of his. So, please,”—he leers— “choose to save yourself.”
Grayson’s nose trails down my jaw, dipping into my hair again on a deep inhale. “Fuck. You used to smell like lollies and flowers, now you smell like him. I’ll have to change that.”
Chuck laughs. “We’ll be quick.”
Retail music plays through the speakers and people chatter as they pass the public toilet, but it’s the sound of his pants unbuttoning that blisters my ears.
“I told you I wasn’t gay, but I’ll happily take this gun and ram it up your arses until you taste lead.”
Xander.
Something clicks above us. A gun being cocked draws Grayson and Chuck’s wide eyes upward. Mine follow.
A vision behind a coat of tears greets me. Xander holds a gun over the stall wall, his eyes pitch black and at odds with the mocking comment.
The brothers step backwards, raising their hands.
“You’re a fucking dead man, Butcher,” Chuck snarls. “You pull a gun on me? You die.”
“Did they touch you?” Xander bites out, but his eyes are cold and dead on Chuck’s face. Losing focus to anything else, feverish rage turns him to stone.
I breathe. I ball my hands into a fist and jab Chuck in the jaw, the pain from hitting his bone flares through me, but I use the fear in my veins to drive a second jab into Grayson’s groin. He curls over.
I unlatch the stall door, rush out, and crash into Xander’s warm, protective body. Hysterical but trying to hide it, I shake and tremble in his arms. The scent of safety and him and us envelops me as I bury my nose into his shirt.
He cups my cheeks, pushing me out to scrutinise my tears, my wobbly lip—my emotions. He wipes at my eyes. “Did. They. Touch. You?” The words come through a hiss.
I shake my head. The doctor painted a harrowing picture that day in the hospital, of Xander taking one more hit, and now I’m plummeting down a wormhole of images. A fight with Chuck. Just one pointed blow to the head.
And I lose my broken boy.
But I have to be honest. “Baby,” I say, soothing him with my tone, swallowing the panic, but I can’t seem to stop my hands from vibrating. “Grayson kissed me, but that is all.” I grab his face, trying to hold his burning gaze on me. “That’s all, Baby. Just a kiss.”
“Just. A. Kiss,” he mutters, the embers of pain in his eyes burning my heart. “Justa kiss. Every kiss is mine.”
“Baby,” Chuck mocks, stepping out.
