AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Look what we’ve caught!”
“All alone?”
Someone spits on Maison, the glob landing on his chest.
Someone else spits, this time landing on his face.
Others join in.
“Fucking idiot!”
“Here for Carter, big brother?”
Someone smacks a hand against his head.
“Looks like we’ve found our next whore!”
Someone kicks the back of his knees, making him crumple. Rogers and Matthews have to heave him back to his feet and force him to stay upright as they continue walking.
“You’ll look real pretty with a cock in your ass, Beckett!”
“We know your brother sure does!”
The shouting grows in volume and excitement when that last one seems to shake Maison out of his pained stupor, the man now fighting against his human restraints as he slurs angrily at them. I hope like hell the slurring is fake and not the result of a head injury.
Travis stands watch at the entrance of the dungeon, nodding when our eyes meet. Maison is dragged toward him, dripping blood and spit, his legs scraped and bruised from all the times he fell during his walk of shame. A nasty gash on his forehead is bleeding the worst, the blood trickling down to join the drops coming from where the gun just hit his temple. He had already gained the forehead injury before I showed up to identify him.
Travis settles in front of Maison, his face perfectly calm. Almost bored. It takes considerable effort for Maison to lift his head, but when he does and he sees Travis, he snarls and hoarsely yells, “You fucker!”
Travis’s grin is almost sickening to look at. It’s Mica-level sinister, which is saying a lot considering the kind of fucked up things I’ve witnessed Mica do before. The sight of it has me suppressing a shudder. “Yes. I am a fucker. A fucker of your baby brother, most days.”
With a roar, Maison tries to lunge at him. He’s too weak, though. Even if he truly wanted to hurt Travis – which he might, considering everything – there’s no way he’d be able to break free from the men holding him. Not in the condition he’s in right now.
“Where do you want him, boss?” I ask, turning my attention to Travis.
Travis tilts his head like we haven’t already decided every step of tonight ahead of time with Maison’s approval, then jerks his chin toward the metal torture rack. “I still have a few questions for him. If he’s anything like his brother, a whip will get him to change his attitude.”
The men agree with him, laughing as they tell Maison that they’ve seen this for themselves. Maison starts spitting obscenities and threats that are too fast and slurred to mean a thing, his body rocking in all directions like a man possessed as he’s dragged toward the rack.
“Alright, gentleman,” Travis says, turning to address the growing audience. “I know this is exciting, but I promise he’s not going anywhere anytime soon. Let’s all go back to our lives while I sort this out. Don’t forget we’re locked down and he might still have backup coming.”
The men all groan, not impressed with this, but they’re all too excited to put up a fight. I ignore them as they filter past me with a few last shouts to Maison. When they're all gone, I head back toward Travis. My gaze accidentally locks with Maison's. The emotion in his eyes stops me short, my stomach flipping. This might all be planned, but it’s not an act anymore. Maison is fully aware of what he’s in for tonight and he’s scared. Genuinely scared.
I make a decision, knowing a change of plans needs to happen if the three of us are going to survive the night. "Turn him around. We don’t need to see the fucker’s face.”
They do as instructed, quickly shackling him so his front is against the rack this time. Maison is shaking. I have to look away, finding myself watching Travis instead as my friend finally forces himself to face Maison. A few emotions pass through his expression before he manages to lock them down. Thankfully, Rogers and Matthews are enjoying themselves too much to notice.
Travis tears his gaze away from our friend and casually strolls over to the wall full of torture instruments. He seems completely unbothered now. I hope like hell I look the same because my insides feel as hot and shivery as the first time that I had to watch Travis rape Carter, and I don’t have the dim lighting of the auction’s backstage area to help me hide this time.
“Rogers, Matthews, you’re dismissed as well,” Travis says. “Thank you for all your help. You will be rewarded.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Maison relaxes the slightest bit when he hears the door shut, but he’s still trembling. We're not off the hook. Even if we don’t have eyes on us now, we certainly have ears. And Maison can’t be seen again without a fair amount of abuse showing on his body.
I watch as Travis grabs a flogger that will bite hard but be fast about it. Travis’s shoulders are stiff and his gaze far away. He’s upset, but not nearly as upset as he's been before when it was Carter he had to hurt. He doesn't have that aura around him yet - the one that only appears when he dissociates from the scene and lets his inner monster out to play.
“What are you doing here, Maison?” Travis asks nice and loud for our eavesdroppers.
