Jayden’s unamused stare shouldn’t be so damn hot, but fuck. I’m beginning to wonder if I have a physical therapist kink, because his lean, muscular frame and intimidating asshole vibes somehow does it for me. When he smirks, I know I’m fucked.
“How about this? Be a good little boy, Princess, and maybe I’ll let you choke on my cock, since you can’t seem to take your eyes off it.”
Swallowing, I pull my attention away from his way too tight pants, and retort, “I’m Roman’s. There’s no chance I’m going to fuck that up. I love him.”
He snorts, rolling his eyes. “I don’t want yourfeelings, but I’m up for a good time as a reward, if you listen. Right now, there’s no chance you’ll earn my cock.”
“What—”
“Nope. Not arguing with you. Get some rest, stop being a fucking idiot, and I’ll consider helping you out.” With that, hewhirls around and strides out, his pert ass looking way too good on the way.Fuck.
I try to get comfortable in the bed, but every inch of me hurts. The least they could do is put a television or something in here, because it’s fucking boring to stare at the walls.
Closing my eyes, I bring up Roman’s face in my mind, and I ache for him. He’s so strong, but dammit, I want to be there for him, and I’m stuck here. Maybe I can convince whoever brings my next meal to give me a phone… Anything to be connected again. Right now, I’d even take my chances with Leandro, just so long as I can see Roman.
Being waterboarded is not all it's cracked up to be. The shock of cold water pouring over my bagged face is suffocating, and no matter how many times I try to remind myself it’ll end, my screaming lungs don’t get the message. It’s a good thing I’m strapped to the table, otherwise, I would have flailed right off with the way my body tries to thrash around.
When the second—or third?—round of water stops, I try to suck in some much-needed air. The wet bag over my head makes it hard to take a full breath, and I choke on the water in my lungs.
When the bag is ripped from my head, I slam my eyes closed, unwilling to be blinded by the bright light. I try not to gasp for air, but it’s futile, my exhausted body is desperately taking what it needs.
Turning my head to the side, I cough and gasp, trying to slow my racing heart.
Tennant tsks above me. “Such a disappointment, Cris.”
I ignore him, more focused on regulating my breathing and steadying my heartbeat. Tennant sighs, like I bore him. Good. I know him, once a “subject” is no longer interesting or useful, they’re dead; and I’ve far outlived my usefulness, as proven by my actions over the last few weeks…months, however fucking long it’s been since I lost the true meaning of our Family.
Was it after being kidnapped and then willingly ripped away from my light in the dark, my love, Allesandro, that changed me? Or had this been building since the moment my son stood up to me and promised to kill me if I came between him and the two men he loved?
There was so much I wanted for Roman, an entire history of abuse and pain I never wanted him to face, and in the end, I hurt him more than my uncle ever did me because of my shortcomings.
I’m so fucking sorry, Figlio Mio.
“With me?” Tennant snaps his fingers in front of my face and I glare at him. He smirks. “Good. I’d hate for you to miss this next part.”
“Fuck you, Tennant.”
“Mmm, no,” he hums. “I’d rather not, thanks. I have my own lovers to fuck.”
Clenching my teeth, I don’t rise to his bait, even if the broken, twisted part of me wants to lash out. It’d be so easy to give in, to take the goading and turn it back on him, but I know Tennant. He wouldn’t kill me; he’d turn it into a game and prolong my suffering, because that’s the type of person he is. Tennant is the main torturer for a reason. He thrives off the bloodshed and trying new techniques to get a person to break. And I am his ultimate plaything.
“I think,” he says in that annoying as fuck conversational tone of his. “It’s time to end this.”
Fear like I’ve never felt before rushes through me.
Tennant wraps a rope around my neck. The rough fibers scrape against my skin and I swallow hard, feeling the heavy weight against my throat.
He undoes the straps keeping me to the table, but I’m too tired and weak to fight back. Besides, what’s the point? Even if I managed to get off the table, and somehow grabbed one of the knives on the various tables around the room, I’d never manage to kill him. Not before he or the guards killed me first. Besides, Tennant is my one weakness, aside from my son.
Weaknesses are what get you killed, Cristian. Are you weak like your father? A disgrace to the Amato name, the same as he was?My uncle’s voice haunts me, and has for the last twenty-two years. Even dead, his cutting and baiting words hurt more than any beating he ever gave me.
Tennant pulls me off the table, using my rope leash to lead me to the hook in the middle of the room. He chains my arms together once more, and then pulls another chain down from the ceiling, attaching the rope to it.
When he lifts me up by my arms, the rope around my neck is pulled taut. One wrong move and he can kill me easily like this.
Meeting his glacial eyes from across the room, I wonder how we ever got here. His white blond hair shines under the bright lights, and those eyes that have haunted me for the last thirty fucking years stay locked on mine.
“I don't have to like you in order to want to see your abuser bleed.”
