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“Fuck. You.”
Travis flicks his wrist, bringing the flogger down hard on Maison’s skin. “Try that again.”
“You hard of hearing?” Maison growls. “Fuck. You.”
“I could go fuck your brother, if you’d like,” Travis lies as he hits him twice more. “Maybe I should. Maybe I should go rape him bloody and tell him the whole time he could have been saved from it if only his brother would have cooperated.”
It’s the route we agreed on, the one that would make the most sense for Maison breaking so easily – and he needs to break easily, we can’t mentally survive having to do this slowly. But it still feels like an awfully low blow to hear Travis saying the words. Especially when we all know just how close to the truth they are.
“Please don’t,” Maison begs, deflating. “Don’t hurt him.”
“What are you doing here?” Travis asks, returning to his original question.
“What do you fucking think, asshole? I’m here for Carter.”
“Hmmm.” Travis hits him again, this time across the back of his thighs. “What if he doesn’t want to be rescued? Ever consider that? Maybe your baby brother likes my cock.”
I flinch. That’s even closer to the truth than the last thing Travis said, and this time, it wasn’t preapproved. We all agreed there’d have to be improvisation, but… damn. I don’t think Maison is faking it when he roars, “Shut your fucking mouth!”
Travis’s jaw flexes, but it’s the only sign that he’s bothered. He moves closer and begins raining down blows, speeding this up for all of us. He doesn’t stop until Maison has all of his weight resting on the rack, his chest struggling to rise as he fights to breathe. “Are you alone?”
Maison barely manages a choked, “Yes.”
“If you’re lying, I will kill him,” Travis warns. “Do you understand? I will kill Carter before your backup gets a chance to get inside. I’m asking you again – are you alone?”
Maison laughs, but it’s short and sharp and awful. “Yes. They wouldn’t fucking risk it. They told me he wasn’t worth it.”
Another dangerous truth. Another knife to all of our chests. Christ, this is going to be so much worse than I ever thought.
“You had to have known you wouldn’t make it,” Travis argues. “For fuck’s sake, you didn’t even wait until everyone was sleeping!”
“I didn’t care. I knew I wouldn’t make it. But I thought maybe I’d at least get to see him if I came now. I thought maybe he’d be with you.” He hangs his head, looking utterly defeated. I pray to whoever the fuck is up there listening that it’s an act. “I knew a rescue was fucking impossible, but I just wanted to see him. To show him I didn’t abandon him.”
Travis’s cruel laugh makes me flinch. I turn away as he tells Maison that he did abandon Carter. As he tells him that Carter cried for his big brother, cried for someone to help him, cries out for Maison in his nightmares. I don’t know why – after everything – this is what’s getting me, but it needs to fucking stop. Now.
For fuck’s sake, I’m going to have to watch him get gangraped soon. I have to get it the fuck together.
Casey. I screw my eyes shut, blocking out Maison begging Travis to let him take his brother’s place as his slave, and picture Casey. We’re at the safehouse, lounging in a chair by the pool. He’s damp and cold and smells like chlorine as I bury my nose in the side of his neck. His fingers are pruned and hesitant as they map out my chest, running through the wet curls of hair there. He’s sleepy and sated and safe.
He’s safe.
I open my eyes and turn back to my two friends, keeping those two words in the back of my mind. We’re doing this for the victims. For Carter. For Casey. To keep them – him – safe. He’s safe, he’s safe, we’re doing this to keep him safe.
It’s much easier then, to see Maison’s abused body. To listen to Travis saying awful things. To watch him draw blood with a whip.
“I’m bored with you,” Travis says in a flat tone. “I think it’s time I let my men play.”
I’m up. My gut churns, but I remind myself why I’m doing this. I can nearly smell the chlorine already.
“Not going to beg or cry for me, Maison?” Travis asks when Maison doesn’t respond. “That’s okay. It won’t be long before you do.”
Travis walks toward the door as I approach Maison. My eyes settle on the bloody, broken back of one of my best friends. The operation is almost over, I tell myself. It’s so close. We can survive this. We can all survive this. Casey will survive this.
“Benny, you’ll make sure no one crosses a line?” Travis says loud enough for me to know Travis is expecting everyone else to hear. It’s a warning for the others. Thank god. “I want him alive and aware for when he gets to see his baby brother.”
I force a smirk, but there’s not a trace of joy inside of me right now. “He’ll still be kicking, boss. Don’t worry.”
“Oh, and Maison!” Travis calls from his place at the door. “Anything you want me to tell your baby brother when I go fuck him now?”
